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I’ll arch my back, hand firmly placed on my lower spine, just to try and carry it but the weight of the huge belly you’ve given me will just sink farther and farther down into my hips; the oblong shape of the belly will keep pulling me forward and down. I won’t be able to waddle anywhere without letting out desperate little grunts, each step forward a monumental effort to manage the huge load you’ve given me to haul around.

My hands will restlessly shift from the top of the rounded curve to my back, as I shift my weight from side to side, and then desperately try to hold up some of the weight from the bottom of my belly. But nothing I do provides relief for long, especially as my belly hangs low on my hips the farther along I get in this pregnancy, overdue by days….so I continue to restlessly moan as I try to move anywhere.

You don't even have to want it really. The female body is optimized for childbirth, and not for any of your actual wants/desires. A random mans sperm has more agency over your body then you do. Even if you hate every part there is nothing you can do to stop it after a certain point. You have to watch yourself swell up day by day. Watching as none of your pants button. How things start to strain around your chest. How everything keeps riding up and exposing your tummy. How your walk gradually turns to a waddle. Having to hold your hands on your back, moaning & panting W/ exertion at pretty simple tasks.

When things change, however, is when your gain starts to stick. No longer able to be brushed off as water weight, your stomach pushes against the front of shirts that once allowed extra room, your jaw softens, and the padding around your rear feels more packed in than anything.

You might be shy at first, surprised to see your changes become plainly obvious, and blush when others point out your gain, but it won't take long for the truth to sink in. You look good and feel good, too.

Not until it's way too late, I'm big and showing obviously and I feel the babies kicking before I figure it out. The sinking horror as I scramble to think of how I can get out of this but the only thing I can do is grow and birth them. I have to give birth, and there's nothing I can do about it. There are babies growing inside of my belly that aren't getting any smaller, only getting bigger and stronger day after day, making me huge with them, where anyone can see my bloated breeder belly. I'm trapped, my biggest fear cradled and kicking right inside my womb.

Despite it all I can’t help but smile and relish in how big I’ve grown. I smile wider, opening my eyes and seeing you in front of me. Your hands go to my belly, lifting the heavy burden off my back.

“Mm thank you…I wish I could take a bath…”

You smirk and chuckle, remembering how I almost got stuck in the tub just a few nights ago.

“You’re getting so big, baby” you say proudly, kissing my belly.

“They don’t seem to want to leave this belly just yet,” I giggle, caressing your cheek as you kiss up my linea negra, moving your hands and mouth to my swollen breasts.

“Does my cow need to be milked?” I see the glint in your eyes, the hunger in your expression.

I nod. “Please. They’re so full.”

I moan and feel my legs squirm as you latch on to my fat nipple, sucking long and hard, my milk letting down quickly.

“Oooh god yes!” I gasp. I pinch my other nipple, desperate to feel some relief from the tightness in my body.

I feel your hands roaming my belly, pressing in the babies and teasing my belly button. I grip onto your hair as I bite my lip and close my eyes, my pussy throbbing and wet.

You switch sides, your mouth and tongue heaven in my breast, your fingers roaming further down my belly until I feel them inside me, my legs spreading wider.

“Mmm daddy please! Oh god I’m too big…I’m so fucking pregnant!” I grunt, my clit throbbing in your fingers.

“Cum for me cow,” you say with a gasp, milk in your face. “Tell me how much you love being bred”

I hold onto you more, my legs feeling weak as I get closer to cumming. “I love being big and round…I love being so fertile and full of babies…I never wanna be empty daddy please!”

I squeal as I cum in your hands, leaning into you, my belly trembling as the babies go wild. I breathe heavily, my eyelids fluttering as I come down from my orgasm.

Soft feedism means admiring, squeezing and loving the excess of flesh that constantly peaks out of their shirts. It means adoring every curve and pound that they gain from overeating and doting them.

ssbbw summer

There’s nothing sexier than watching you be heavy and round with my babies. Perfect, round, gravid belly. I love how shiny and tight it is. Like a massive beach ball or watermelon attached to your slight frame. You love fondling it, holding it, weighing it.

Your womb is full. Your brain is hazy. You’re growing two new lives, it’s okay to be slow. It’s okay to be content like this. Rubbing your bump while you drink your cup of tea. Smiling as I pick up our children, fool around with them, make them laugh, play with them.

This is why you want more. Always more.

Seeing me with the babies you pop out, how much I care for them, love them, make sure they are taken care of, it’s your own aphrodisiac. I spend every free minute of my day helping you with the five kids we already have. I hired a nanny too, for the twins you had a year ago. Now you’re almost ready to pop again. Seven months and counting.

Insatiable. Little. Breeder.

You’re so proud of how large you get when you’re pregnant. You’re carrying twin boys this time, and they are large and healthy. I can tell that this will be your biggest pregnancy yet. The weight of the babies pushes down between your legs, and sometimes, when you think no one is watching (but I am), you sit down, open your legs, hold your belly and grind against a pillow.

Being a knight in a medieval castle ruled by a queen with with only one daughter. As a result, the princess is pretty spoiled, always receiving gifts from princes, eating fancy banquets nightly and generally living in medieval luxury.

I don't think much of her, thinking she's a brat, until I'm assigned to be her personal protector. It's what I expected at first, she's demanding and bossy. But soon I start to learn her secrets. For one she's not interested in any of the princes trying to court her, on account of her liking girls. I see her looking at me all the time, longingly, even making a point of coming down to watch me train which she never did before. But then I find out what she dose when the queens away...

She calls me into her quarters, red faced. She says she can't close her corset and needs my help. I see her newly forming belly hanging from the bottom of the half tied corset. I smile, gently pushing her gut up into the garment and pull it in tying the corset, hearing her sharp intake of breath. She thanks me but I can tell she looks uncomfortable.

"Getting a little small isn't it, Princess?" I mutter as she gasps.

"How dare you! You oaf, you won't speak to me like that!" She screams.

I ignore her. "Only natural, given how much you've been feasting lately. I've been bringing extra deserts up to you room every night this week."

"You're calling me fat?" She asked offended.

"Yes." I reply. She gasps again going to berate me. "But you could be fatter. You're a princess for gods sake. Start eating like one..."

She frowns huffing. "Why don't you make me."

Day off tomorrow, might have to spend it writing medieval fat yuri 🥴

And god, I was so stupid when pregnant. Not just slow—fuzzy. Like my brain had been wrapped in cotton. Every thought was warm and soft and slippery. I’d forget my own name if someone didn’t call me “mama” or “breeder” or “good little cumdump.” I couldn’t keep a single smart thought in my head—and I don’t think I really need to, not any more.

He made me his incubator. His leaking, waddling, smiling proof that he could fuck a purpose into me. And I glowed with it. Dumb, obedient, happy to be ruined.

And I miss it. I miss being claimed. I miss how proud I felt to be so clearly used. I miss being too full of him to care about anything else.

And I wouldn’t even hesitate to do it again.

If some man looked me in the eye and said, “You’d look better knocked up and leaking like the dumb little cum tank you are,” I’d spread for him on the spot. No thinking. No questions. Just soaked thighs and a whimper. Because he’d be right.

I want to be bred. Ruined. Useful.

You will keep rounding out, filling your clothes until they're stretched and tight. Until your average outfits feel like bondage. Until you can't reach over or under your tummy, because it just grew so much. Your butt firm and tight in your pants. Your chest plump and expanding.

Until you're a whimpering, needy mess. Until you're my spoiled little thing, for good. Until you look at me with your glazed pretty eyes, and ask to be fed even more. Because you know I will.

This is how it would go almost every time.

You were manhandled and used. Always with force and with an animalistic intensity. Never asked. Always taken. It was the reason you were in this…. situation. You were caught off guard by the direct approach. The goofy nature and warm smile. How easily you would laugh. At the time it seemed harmless. Truth be told you weren’t expecting much the first time it happened. But the second your legs were open it was day and night. Jekyll and Hyde. “Fucking sexual wolfman!” You laughed after a number of full body orgasms. It didn’t seem that funny now or that far off. Sweet and caring one second. Depraved and ravenous the next. “I’m a well-educated woman…. why did I keep letting him…” A sudden tiny kick in your belly brought you to your senses. You went to comfort the baby with your hand rubbing the taut skin o f your belly. If his twin brother woke up now you wouldn’t get any sleep.

You looked down at yourself and almost wanted to cry. You had always held a bit of pride in your curves but now they were everywhere. Dominating every inch of your body. Your breasts huge, heavy, and swollen with milk. Your nipples dully aching as the pressure continued to build. Your hips sore and worn out from the extra burden placed on them. Your belly hanging massively off your frame and low. the strain on your back was unbelievable. You could barely see him past your belly as he continued to tease you. You could feel his forehead resting on the underside of your belly. You had plans. A life. A good career. It was all right in front of you. But for some reason when this man came in you, you lost all reason and logic. He wanted you bred. And he didn’t stop until you were swelling with his babies. Now with the constant rush of hormones running through your system you didn’t stand a chance. As his warm tongue ran over the puffy and thickened lips of your sex you saw a glimpse of your future with him. He would bring you constant pleasure but you would be reduced to nothing more than a baby factory. Perpetually gravid with a baby in your belly. Your only purpose to take his seed and to labor his children into the world. Nothing more.