hi I'm diva and here are some things about me ^__^
I am an adult. 23 years old to be exact. and this blog is meant ONLY for people over the age of 18. if I see a minor interacting with my posts, I will block you. end of discussion.
💗 💞 💖
I'm a raging switch. sometimes I'm dominant and sometimes I'm a submissive brat 🫣
some of my kinks include: breast, belly, and ass inflation, cumflation, weight gain, lactating, hucow, cnc, freeuse, hypnosis, tentacles, slime inflation, monster fucking, ovipos, pain, degradation, praise, bimbofication, free use,exhibitionism, piss, voyeurism, and much more
I am not into: rape, scat, farting, death feedism, feet, and stuff like thaf
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you have to take a trip so you book a train ticket in first class, for some reason they were on sale that week ao might as well treat yourself.
the ride is a few hours and you get your own private little room! a small table, a bed, and a chair. you sit down and notice a menu and some buttons on the tabletop. Picking up the menu you see it just has a few options. "filling" and "size" the options are things like vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and custard, so you assume it must mean complimentary sweets! You look over to the table buttons and select "large custard filling"
after a few moments, a tube suddenly drops down and inserts itself into your mouth. the end is flared so now that it's in it won't come out. You feel a bit worried and then something of a light cream color flows down the pipe and into your mouth. It's a sweet, rich, creamy custard. you sit helplessly as it flows into you, feeling it sit so heavy in your little belly. Another attachment in your seat activates and makes a hole in your pants before another tube is pushed into your cunt. You find yourself wet already, this feels...so good. You moan around the tube in your mouth as the thick delicious custard begins to pump into your pussy. you move your hands over your belly as it begins to swell outward, your body tingling and warm. You watch as it grows rounder and softer with each passing moment. your shirt rides up revealing your wobbling belly, but it's getting tighter as your chest begins to swell too. Your belly is too big to wrap your hands around, and your chest is feeling so full... your breasts are round and perky resting on your big bloated gut. soon you begin to feel a funny tingling in your nipples, two tubes pull your shirt up and latch onto them. you moan louder as they begin to suck, and thick cream is pulled out. You have hours left on your ride, and you're being stuffed and pumped with no end in sight. There's no way you'll be able to explain away your new delightfully plump body.
🕊
Jeez, what kind of train am I am where this is the service? (also how do I book a ticket irl asap)
I can only imagine how wonderful it would feel, lazily sitting there and growing with all that sweetness filling my mouth and cunt... even before that wonderful stimulation on my swelling breasts pumping out my cream to who knows where, maybe another customer somewhere else on the train
How do I even get off? Will some attendant come and roll me off to my destination if I get that big? Or am I and anyone else who accidentally let themselves get so deliciously filled up bound for a new place to call home? Whatever the case, the ride itself will be pure creamy bliss
1 person is never enough, is it? You need a whole group of aggressive belly pumpers to show you what full means. Let's get some buff, obese, and skinny friends to hold you done. Moving your arms and legs are off-limits during your session. The only that gets to move is your empty balloon of a belly. One of them gives you some gentle kisses while moving their hand down your thighs and to your ass. They are slow but precise with the way they play with your hole. You have been told many things about its use growing up, but being where an air hose goes wasn't one. Ironically, it's what it's best at. This isn't your first time or even second, you have pumped your belly so much you would expect to see some stretchmarks. We will fix that. While you get comfortable and play with like a little toy, another friend gets a few blood pressure pumps. One for each person holding you down. Each one is glistening from the lube that was applied beforehand. Your hole is just begging to be stuffed so we can begin, and that's exactly what happens. Each person takes turns gently inserting each hose. Your moans of naughty delight aren't ignored as the person giving you kisses plants some more, along with some loving nipple bites. By the time everyone is done you have 5 hoses ready by blowing your gut with air. There is a group countdown from 5. When 1 comes, nobody holds back squeezing their bulbs to pump you. The air is relentless, aggressive, and even cruel. Nobody cares how much you squirm from the assault of 5 pumps swelling you forcefully. Everyone in that room can tell you love it. Your moans sound off more and more as they keep up their assault on your ballooning middle. Your gut rounds out fast as your sides become tight from the pressure. Even when one person gets tired and stops, someone else is ready to pick up the slack and pump you up more. There doesn't feel like an end in sight to how big they want you. You try to shift your weight between whimpers, but it's no use. The person on top of you smirks at your struggle, but rewards you with circular belly rubs around the bottom of your belly. It doesn't stop the air from forcing its way in, but it does give you a moment to feel loving care. As your moans turn to groans and grunts from being pumped past your limit, your belly looks more like a basketball than the empty flab you had before. Unfortunately, that's not the end. Each person has their own idea of how full you should be, and they won't stop till they are satisfied. Some have stopped pumping and work on rubbing your belly in tandem with the original caresser, but others care more about seeing you struggle as uncontrollable burps signify your fullness. At this point, every second fell so long with your aching drumb tight belly. The kisses and belly rubs help a little, but the mean fast pumping just makes it harder. Eventually, there is one person left, furiously pumping with lust in their eyes. They want to force more air in you till you almost pop. The group joins in a 10-second count down as the last person, covered in muscles and sweat presses on your belly with their fingertips while you squeeze the pump with all their might. Your belly is swollen beyond belief, and you struggle to even get moans out as even your throat feels full of air. You are breathing heavily as they finally get to 1. The muscle-filled person drops the pump and kisses your cheek, signifying the job well done. You are sore and immobilized by the untold amounts of air they forced in you, but it feels so good to be this full. Even your sides and hard as a rock. All the people holding you down and playing with your belly to your heart's content. The session is over, and you are reaping your rewards for being a good blimp.
I pour more and more slime down your greedy throat. The corners of your eyes water as your brain pleads for release but your heart begs for more. I see the hunger in your body and push further and further. A stifled moan is all you can gasp.
“Such a good girl, I hope you’re ready for more~”
The confused look on your face is immediately replaced by the shock of feeling a tentacle of ooze slip into your underwear, pressing up against your hole. Think you can handle it? It doesn’t matter, she didn’t ask if you could anyways.
Your favorite girl just can’t resist the feeling of getting bigger… and this time, she’s letting you watch every second.
She starts nearly flat, showing off her stomach before fastening a belt tightly around her waist and revealing the hose she’ll use to inflate herself. Slowly, her belly grows and stretches until she’s transformed from near-abs to a huge, round belly right in front of the camera.
And once she’s completely full, she pushes herself even further with a giant dildo and powerful vibrator. Already overwhelmed and impossibly sensitive, the intensity leaves her shaking, breathless, and practically seeing stars.
Ready to watch her fill up and completely lose control?~
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Yeah, this won't do. Your gut is looking way too flat today, and you haven't been properly filled in a while. I don't care if you pumped yourself yesterday, I mean, really filled. You always end up going easy on yourself, since you get so worried you are going to explode. That's why I am here to make sure your belly gets stretched to the limit. Get out the pump NOW. You aren't doing anything important anyway. You were just scrolling on your phone, looking for inspiration to get bigger. Well, here you go. Follow my words closely, and you will get what you wish for. I want you to pump air into your blimp belly 5 times every time I say PUMP. No complaints, no whining, and no stopping till I say so. You are a b-a-l-l-o-o-n, so PUMP your gut up for me. Yeah, that's better keep PUMPING for me. Don't you dare let any air out either. Any time you do means double the air needs to go back in blimp. Fucking PUMP more. I want you bigger than that. Did you think you could get away from being my blimp toy? Not a change air slut. PUMP that tank. Geez, so fucking slow, PUMP, PUMP, PUMP. You aren't meant to be empty. Keep filling yourself and keep PUMPING. Aww, does it hurt to have so much air in you? I don't fucking care. PUMP for me again. Don't you dare stop blimp. There you go. Much rounder. I will give you one chance to cum, but you have to PUMP yourself at the same time. I want your body hooked on inflated orgasms. Keep PUMPING like the blimp you are meant to be. Keep inflating for me while you touch yourself. That's so fucking hot. Look at your belly, desperate to let all the air out. PUMP more for me balloon. Fuck yah. Cum and PUMP your gut hard. PUMP PUMP PUMP and cum for me. Damn, you really stretched your belly for me. It's all taunt and hollow-sounding. Just like a balloon should be.
Maybe I’m a pet breeder and I need something more exotic to make money in the market. I’d remembered a story of people in the swamp-lands keeping domesticated slimes, but that wasn’t heard of in the colder, drier area where I live. The slimes wouldn’t be spread out in this environment. Instead, they’d keep in clusters around what natural water sources there were.
The more affluent citizens in the area often kept water features that could support a slime or two. That would be my target audience. First though, I would need to find a way to reliably breed the slimes. They could be elusive, and their clustering behavior would make them more formidable in numbers.
That’s where you come in. You’re a fresh academy graduate who specialized in monster ecology. Eyes bright and eager to please, I could use your enthusiasm to my advantage. I tell you I’m trying to better understand slime breeding habits. Wanting a chance to prove yourself, you offer to help in any way you can.
You and I head into nature alone to one of the known water sources that the local slimes have formed their clusters around. These are a deep blue with a glittery substance suspended throughout. You murmur to yourself about the coloration being affected by mineral deposits in the lake. I encourage you to take a closer look and pat you on the back. Enthralled by these unique slimes, you crawl down the hill towards them.
You were so captivated, you didn’t notice the herbal mixture I smeared across the back of your cloak. You also didn’t notice the rogue blob schlepping across the ground towards you. At least, you didn’t notice it until it’s sopping mass was oozing up your pant leg. You kick and roll around to try and dissuade the mindless thing from going further. It only serves to catch the attention of more of them.
The herbs were a special blend I shipped in. It’s out of season here, but slimes tend to recognize it as a sign that it’s time to reproduce. You ask me to help. I tell you that I couldn’t possibly interfere with all this data I was collecting. While slimes weren’t the brightest, they were hard to grab and heavier than they looked. If it were only one, you’d have a chance. With three of them already on you, your chances of escape were quickly dwindling.
Your hips are swimming in slime when they finally find a warm, wet place to go. Shock freezes muscle and mind, but the slimes don’t care. To them, you’re the best place to breed right now. By the time you regain your senses, they’re already pressing their bodies into your hole in pulsing bursts. Slime after slime packs into your womb. You had hoped that loosening the belt around your waist would be all the wardrobe malfunction you would suffer. Then your shirt buttons begin to fly off into the bushes one-by-one.
The slimes have filled you such that they press up into your lungs. You’re like a pathetic fish the way you gasp and writhe on the ground. Eventually, I take mercy. Your cloak ties had loosened in all your flailing, so I’m able to toss it off with a stick. Any remaining creatures go after it instead.
Teary-eyed, you can’t help but clutch your straining gut. I’m able to get you standing, albeit barely, with some careful maneuvering. You whinge the whole way back to my shop. So caught up in your discomfort, you don’t think to question why I’m taking you to the basement you didn’t know I had.
You plop onto the lone couch with a grunt. I offer you water. The glass is drained in a heartbeat. You seem perplexed by the sudden, intense thirst welling up. I set a full pitcher by you. You help yourself while I get some things prepared.
Initially, you’re polite and use the glass. The thirst persists though. To avoid wasting time, you grab the whole thing and begin chugging. The sudden deluge of water gurgles in your gut.
I return with some books. Despite the sloshing in your stomach, you quietly squeak out a request for another pitcher. Graciously, I refill the pitcher countless times as I ask you to take notes on your condition. It’s busy work. Your sloshing gut is just pinning you down to the furniture and keeping the slimes complacent as they soak up the water in your body. Exhaustion catches up to you. I offer to let you rest on the couch. We could find a solution to your predicament later. Naive thing you are, you let your eyes slip shut and sleep to cloud your mind.
When you wake, your wrists are bound and a hose apparatus leads into your mouth. You can’t plead or beg with anything more than a desperate look. Water flows into your mouth at a slow, yet unrelenting, pace. You grimace at the unexpected taste, but can only swallow.
“The salinity and mineral content have been made to mimic the lake we found these ones at.” I don’t bother to look at you while I write in my notebook, “my hope is that the similar conditions will keep them happier than the plain well water.”
Your stomach swells as the days go by. With no windows, you can only mark time by when I remove the hose to force actual food into you. You start to get really scared when it’s not just your stomach swelling.
“Water weight, maybe?” I mutter to myself as I measure you like a prize hog. You whine pitifully as I poke and prod your swelling mass with no regard for comfort. You’re like bread proofing in a warm oven.
The swelling only worsens when the slimes decide to get down to business. They swirl and churn in your womb as you’re forced to keep drinking. I keep a close eye on you to try and guess when the newborn slimes would emerge from you. The basement, however, is soundproof. You’re alone in the middle of the night when the contractions start. With each tightening of your muscles, dozens of small slimes pour from you and onto the ground.
When I come downstairs, I find you frazzled and exhausted. The new slimes luckily decided to play in a nearby pitcher of water rather than escape into the walls. Once they’re corralled, I palpate your still hefty gut. I smile.
“Good news! The mature slimes must really like the environment we’ve developed in you. I think they’re going to stay in for another round.”
Months later, you would be unrecognizable. Your waterbed of a belly stretches across the basement floor, teeming with life. Every place where fat could be is packed with retained water. The slimes had somehow altered your body to be the perfect breeding grounds, and I had no reason to dissuade them. Every breath sends a ripple across your whole body. To you, it feels like there’s a lake of your own inside your gravid form.
With all the money selling domesticated slimes, I hardly had to spend time doing much else. My days were spent admiring my cash cow and keeping you hydrated. I take in your shapeless mass and imagine. If you were this adaptable to slime breeding, what else could I do with you?
(WARNING: I'm in a mood today, so this one is rated E)
Call it a morbid curiosity. Call it an obligation. Either way Honey found herself standing by a long gilded table piled high with all kinds of sweets. Cakes, cupcakes, cookies, brownies, lady fingers, petite fours, puddings, custard tarts, anything you can imagine. It was the latest idea the fauns had come up with to get back at the fae for a rather unsavory prank. Of course, before that the fauns had flooded one of their recreation groves, so some argued that it had been warranted.
Honey and her friends thought up the table of sweets and had invited a group of fairies to dine with them as a "peace offering". In Honey's mind, though, this would be anything but peaceful.
"Hello?" A soft voice says.
Honey's ears flick to the noise. All the way down the table at the other end of the clearing stands a sweet looking fairy, wings tucked behind her back. A beautifully made silk dress cascades over her hourglass figure, neckline plunging almost down to her naval. Slits up the side show soft, slender legs.
Honey can feel a blush spreading over her face, "Hello... are you the only one here?"
The fairy steps forward, bare feet walking silently in the grass. Her eyes roam the table. She seems drawn towards a plate of scones, running her finger over the edge of the pattern barely visible beneath the fluffy baked goods. Honey didn't see any other fairies behind her, so she assumed that they had sent her ahead to make sure it wasn't a trap. For the same reason the other fauns had sent Honey.
"Is this all for me?" The fairy says, "This entire table?"
"We were expecting more than just you," Honey says; not sure what to do with her hands, she starts to nervously play with the fur around her hips. She didn't expect the enemy to be so pretty... or for her to be showing so much skin for that matter.
"I'm Elida," she says, smiling sweetly, "What's your name?"
Honey smiles back, "I'm not going to give it to you."
Elida pouts and then picks up a scone, "I promise no tricks..."
"I'll trust a fae's promise when I've lost all my sense," Honey says, crossing her arms, her voice dripping with contempt.
Elida waves the scone at her a little, "Any tricks with this food?"
"I mean..." Honey pauses, "Besides the fact that it'll make you fat, no."
Elida smiles again and then takes a bite of the treat, catching some falling crumbs in the other hand. Honey freezes. How did this fairy not catch that? She told her exactly what it would do. It would make her fat. That had been the plan, make all the fae so fat they would need to be rolled out of the grove. Or did she catch it and not care? A twinge deep in Honey's groin made her shift how she was standing. This fae was too hot for what was about to happen. And she was only going to get hotter.
Elida finishes up the scone and then walks down and picks up a brownie, devouring that one in only a couple bites. Honey focuses on Elida's body. She can't see any difference yet beneath the oversized, flowy dress.
Elida flits around the table, eating several more treats, making happy little noises as she does. By the time she picks up a couple macarons and eats them quickly, moaning as she savors them, Honey can see that her breasts are getting bigger. Elida's thighs are starting to poke out of the slits a little more and a pudgy belly starts to fill the dress.
Honey realizes she is incredibly turned on by this fairy eating herself into a new body. She tries to look away, but she can't. Elida comes closer to the head of the table where Honey stands. She gives a playful curtsy, the extra weight wobbling slightly as she does. Honey swallows and feels her face going red. She pulls out the chair at the head of the table and Elida sits, her belly resting a little onto her thighs.
The closest thing to where Elida sits down is a cake with fudgy chocolate frosting. She pulls it a little closer and materializes a fork in her hands before digging in. Honey steps back, watching, her hands clasped behind her back.
Elida's form changes as she eats through the cake. Her belly starts to swell like a water balloon being filled. Her thighs and ass pillow out, her breasts ballooning and starting to spill out of her dress as they heave with each breath.
Honey swallows, trying her best to control her emotions, but she is so ridiculously turned on that she isn't sure she'll be able to tamp down a moan if it comes up. Elida finishes the cake and goes to grab a brownie, but her belly bumps into the table. She leans back and looks down, shock and horror registering on her face as she sees her body.
She looks over at Honey, her mouth hanging open.
"Wait, I-" She's cut off by a massive burp that shakes her whole body, she groans and places a delicate hand on her swollen, aching belly, "Ugh, what have you done?"
Honey isn't sure what's come over her, but quick as she can she grabs a plate of mini fruit custard tarts and runs over to Elida. She tosses the empty cake tray to the floor and hops up on the table, placing her hooves on either side of Elida's now push thighs. Elida grips the arm rests, belly rising and falling with her heavy breaths.
Honey gingerly picks up one of the tarts and holds it out to her, "Open up."
Elida burps softly and covers her mouth; turning her head and staring off into the forest.
"Come on," Honey says gently, "Don't act like you don't want it... even with how fat you've gotten, you know you can't stop yourself. It feels so good, doesn't it?" She holds it out even further and some crumbs fall onto Elida's now massive breasts.
Elida sighs and looks back up to Honey. Ever so slightly, she opens her mouth. Honey doesn't hesitate and stuffs in the tart. Elida barely gets it down before Honey is offering another one. And another one. And another one.
Elida is breathing like she's running a marathon, moaning between bites. Her body is continuously expanding, the chair is creaking underneath her and her dress starts straining at the seams.
Honey gets the plate halfway into her when the dress in question splits, Elida's belly so swollen that the silk can't take it anymore. She is wedged into the chair now. Honey is sure that if Elida had tried to sit in it with this body she wouldn't have been able to.
They finish the plate and Elida shakes her head, "Okay, no more."
Honey hums and picks up a saucer with butterscotch pudding, "Are you sure?"
Elida swallows heavily, looking hungrily at the pudding, "Okay."
Excited, Honey starts feeding it to her. Just as she is giving Elida the last spoonfuls the chair gives a loud groan and then cracks under her massive form. She falls to the ground and lays there, her belly sticking out into the air.
Elida moans, hands going to her middle and rubbing it. Honey hops off the table and joins her, ripping the dress even more to she can put her hands directly onto Elida's skin. She massages Elida's swollen belly and then up onto her breasts, pleased by the the little yelps from Elida when she starts to play with her nipples.
Honey growls, shaking and grabbing the fat on Elida's belly. The fairy groans, unused to this new form, as she stretches back, trying to get comfortable. Honey slides her hands down to Elida's thighs, gripping them and then pulling her legs up so she can get better access between them.
Elida burps again as she does, it dissolves into another moan. Her moans get louder as Honey starts to work with her tongue, licking between her folds and dipping into her. Honey keeps playing with her belly as she swirls her tongue around Elida's clit, rubbing along her sides and feeling her shiver.
Elida's breathing gets sharper and she starts whimpering, her entire body moving in waves as she quivers, the contents in her belly sloshing around.
"W-wait..." She cries, trying to reach past her massive belly as Honey devours her. Honey guesses she's trying to reach for the horns twisting out of her head, but she doesn't let up, and Elida wouldn't be able to hold onto them past how fat she got anyway.
A little more and Elida falls back, her entire body wracked with shaking. She's trying to arch her back, but she can't quite move her body like that now.
Honey drops her legs and crawls next to her, panting, falling onto her side in the soft grass. Elida is also panting, still moaning softly with some after shocks. After her orgasm passes, she looks over to Honey, sweat beading on her forehead.
"Damn," she says between heavy breaths, "I guess fauns will eat anything."
Honey reaches out and pokes Elida's massive gut, "Apparently so will fairies."
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Tripping on your forest walk, and when you look down and realize you stepped in a slime. before you can get up, the slime slides over to your face, grabbing it, sticking to your lips. The slime forces your mouth open, and pushes slime inside, sliding it down your esophagus, forcing it down.
You can't stop it--you gulp, sending the slime inside your body. It tastes sweet and salty, and the stickyness stays on your tongue.
More slimes come out of the bushes, surrounding you, grabbing on to your hands and feet so you can't move, all while the original slime forces itself in your mouth as you gulp gulp gulp, until you've swallowed whole thing.
Your stomach feels funny, and not in a good way. Your body feels sticky and tingling.
You try to get up, but slimes are holding you down, piling together into a larger mass, one that grabs your face once again, stuffing slime inside your mouth. You have no choice but to gulp down more, feeling the slime sliding down your throat and into your stomach, filling you up more and more until you feel like you can't take it, that you might burst...
But the slime keeps pushing itself inside you. Your body feels weirder, stickier, and your chest trembles before it starts to grow with a strange, slimy sound.
Too much slime is inside you, and it's not stopping, but--seeing your chest get bigger is...exciting. Your body relaxes, just a little--and that's all the slime needs.
It pumps slime into your body at an increasing rate, and your body swells up with slime, your chest stretching bigger and bigger, busting out of your shirt, your nipples dripping with leaking slime...
Until the slime finishes, the last of it sliding down your throat with a final gulp.
Your head feels like jelly, and so do your tits...your whole body sloshes with slime. You get the feeling like something really bad happened to you, but...you're not sure you care. You're sexier than you've ever been, and your whole body throbs, at the edge of something incredible...
You lay there dazed, not noticing as the bushes rustle--another wave of slimes.
You're too spent to resist, and they force themselves inside of you--not just your mouth, but sliding into your holes, fucking them while stuffing you, pushing inside desperately while you can't resist, or make a sound--not while your mouth is full of slime!
Your body swells, breasts growing larger than your torso, stomach bulging out--even your ass is filling with slime as it grows bigger, bouncier...
It feels incredible, more intense than anything you've ever felt. Your body spasms as you cum, but the slimes don't stop, keep fucking you, filling you.
A pressure builds on your chest, and slime wraps around them, squeezing tightly...
...And slime leaks out of your breasts like a faucet, spilling loads of slime onto your lap, a growing pile of slimes that immediately follow the others--fucking you, filling you. The slime pile grows, more slime being milked from your chest.
You're going to lose your mind. It feels so amazing, being milked....seeing the slime come out...seeing the amount grow, milking out more slimes than there were originally, slimes that dutifully go stuff themselves back inside you...
You keep growing, and now your chest is down to your knees, slime still being milked out of it. There's slimes everywhere, multiplying, spreading out as more form, as your tits give birth to an unending expanse of slime that want nothing more than to make you bigger...
You sit naked in my kitchen, tied to a chair. Your painfully overfull belly bulges heavily in front of you. You're breathing hard, sweat beading on your forehead. It's obvious you're having trouble sitting still. You keep shifting from side to side in your chair, your plump thighs rubbing against each other. The vibrator inside you hums quietly, occasionally making you gasp and shiver. I can't help but watch the way your body jiggles and bounces as you squirm. It's incredibly sexy.
"If you want to cum, you have to eat," I remind you as I hold a ladle of melted chocolate up to your lips. "More calories, more pleasure."
You obediently open your mouth and tilt your head back. You moan as I pour the chocolate over your lips, your tongue. You seem to struggle with it, but I just keep pouring it down. "Good pig."
You gulp down mouthful after mouthful of chocolate until you can't take any more. "Please..." you gasp. "No more... no more..."
"No, no. More. There's no such thing as enough." I put down the ladle and begin heating up an ice cream container from the freezer in the microwave. I give your poor belly a short break from being pushed to its limits by making you watch me fill a huge container with melted ice cream. As I approach you with the ice cream, I turn up the power on the vibrator slightly, making you cry out and buck against the chair.
You struggle to breathe as I begin to dump the melted ice cream into your already stuffed, bloated belly. You struggle against your bindings, causing your stomach to jiggle and bounce. As I continue pouring the creamy, fattening treat down your throat, you whine and moan, but you can't do anything to stop me.
As the container is emptied and your belly looks ready to burst, I turn the vibrator to its highest setting and watch your fat body jiggle violently as you cum. It's truly a glorious sight to behold.
You slump in your chair, out of breath and gasping. I can see the pleasure in your face as well as the exhaustion and discomfort. I've been pushing you to your limit, forcing you to gorge on various rich, fattening foods, and it has done wonders for your body. You've grown much plumper since we started, and the extra blubber sits heavily on your lard-filled hips and gut, making you wobble and shake. Your body is covered in stretchmarks from the speed of your weight gain, and lately your appetite has been out of control. As nice as all this is, I have to admit I am still more than impatient about fattening you up, and you are nowhere near huge enough for me yet.
CW: force feeding, drug use, forced weight gain, mind manipulation
Day 1
I wake up, my head pounding. I don't remember much from last night, except the first couple of drinks and that cute guy who was definitely hitting on me. I squint, trying to adjust my eyes to the unfamiliar room I find myself in. I'm laying on a large bed. The room is definitely a basement, there is only one tiny window by the ceiling, and it has bars in it. I'm quite thin, but even I wouldn't be able to squeeze through it.
I try to lift my arm, but I feel a tug on my wrist. I turn painfully, only to see my hand cuffed to the bedframe.
I start to panic.
I hear a creak. The door opens, and no other than the cute boy from the previous night walks in. He's carrying a tray full of food.
"Oh good, you're awake," he says. "Now, don't panic."
"What do you want from me??" I spit out. "I don't have any money!"
I'm so scared. Is he going to hurt me?
"Calm down," he says, and his voice is very level and mellow. "Whatever nightmare scenario you're imagining, I'm not going to do it to you. I did find you rather hot at the party. But you could be much, much hotter."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Now now, no talking back, please. If you follow my rules, your life in here will soon become very easy and enjoyable. No responsibilities, no worries." He sets the tray on the bedside. I catch a whiff of delicious scent: burgers, fries, donuts. "Rule number one: you eat all the food I give you. You can take however long you want with it, but you have to finish. If you refuse, I will shove it down your throat anyway."
My mouth hangs open. What kind of sick game is this?
"Rule number two," he continues. "If you need to go to the bathroom, you ring the bell." He points to the bedside table. "I will escort you there and wait until you're done. Otherwise, you are not allowed to move from your bed, hence the handcuffs. Sorry about that. I am hoping they will stop being necessary soon, but for now I'm keeping them."
"And finally, you're allowed to watch TV in case you get bored. There are no real channels on here, just a couple of shows of my choosing. And a bunch of commercials." He pauses for a bit. "Any questions?"
I exhale, still in shock. "Is that the plan?" I ask, not liking how shriek-y my voice sounds. "Keep me here and feed me? How long? Why?"
"Why?" He smirks. "Oh, for my sick pleasure, of course. And as to how long - well, until you're presentable. I will decide when that happens. Now, get on with eating."
Day Two
"I... I can't..."
I groan, clutching at my distented stomach. My captor's "meal plan" is truly insane: 9 am, heavy breakfast, with pancakes oozing with syrup and several strips of bacon on top; 10 am, second breakfast, a bunch of donuts; 12 pm, lunch, burgers; 2 pm, snacks; 4 pm, dinner, an xl pizza; 6 pm, supper, a lasagna; 8pm, snacks; 10 pm, more snacks; 12am, a cup of heavy cream. As for other drinks, I am allowed full fat Coke or Sprite. There is no water.
It's 8 pm now. I feel like I'm going to throw up. He pushes Oreos into my mouth and then covers both my mouth and my nose, so that I'm forced to swallow. I can't speak, I'm scared of opening my mouth so that more food might be shoved inside. He sees that my capacity is at its limit, that I can't take anymore. He shows me a small pill bottle.
"You will start taking these."
I look at the bottle. It's mood stabilizers. "What the fuck?"
"For one, it will stop you from talking nasty like that. But most importantly, it will enhance your appetite."
I try to wriggle away as he uncorks the bottle and presses a pill to my mouth - but I am still tied to the bed.
I swallow, like I swallowed everything else.
"Good. Now, the real work can begin."
Day Four
I blink drowsily. There is still anger and resistence inside me, but buried deeper, under a layer of forced calm. My feedings are no longer unbearable, but they still leave me painfully full. Even if I could, I wouldn't really want to get out of bed. Even going to a bathroom with a distented belly is really a pain in the ass.
I lay on my back, watching TV. All the shows he put there are about food. Cooking and tasting, discovering new dishes. He says he can get me some of them if I develop a craving. With my appetite growing larger by the day, it feels more and more likely.
Week Two
I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My jaw is losing definition. My cheeks look puffy. I put a hand on my belly. It's early morning and I haven't eaten yet, so it's not tight as a drum for once. Instead, it feels gelatinous, curving slightly under my hand.
My reflection looks back at me with a dull gaze. I am slowly forgetting how to be angry.
Month Two
My body is soft all over, and I feel a strange sense of calm. I now wake up hungry every day.
Month Four
I learn to recognize my face anew. It feels like it belongs to a different person. No cheekbones left, instead, chipmunk cheeks that force my mounth into a pout. My eyes are squinting, dull. A double chin frames my face like a small crescent moon. I look older. I look fat.
I try smiling at my reflection. Pushing my cheeks apart starts to be a lot of work.
"Fatty," I whisper to my reflection. That's what he calls me. "Tubby. Lardass. Pig."
My breath quickens. The names slowly start ringing true. My fat face reddens as I huff and puff.
Lardass is ready for some food.
Month Six
I wake up, my belly growling. It's 8:45 am. I'm impatient for my breakfast. Slowly, I heave myself up to a sitting position. It's becoming harder by the day. My belly quivers and jiggles like a water bed. My back and side rolls spill all around me, forcing my hands at an angle. He said I don't need handcuffs anymore. It's not like I'm very eager to get out of bed, anyway.
I huff, adjusting my covers. My fingers are getting clumsy, hands dimpled and digits swallowed by fat. My thighs splay on the bed, forced apart but still touching. My belly, which can no longer rest between them, spills over and around. I absent-mindedly scratch the fold of my double chin, my upper arm roll jiggling as I do.
He enters the room, but this time, he doesn't carry a tray of food. Instead, he lays out enormous pieces of clothing on the bed. I have long forsaken my old clothes, instead sitting around naked.
"Put these on, fatso," he instructs. "You're free to go."
"W-what?" I stammer. My stomach gurgles harder.
"You heard me. You're free. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Is it? I feel panic rising in my chest. How will I even be able to waddle to the door? I can barely use the bathroom these days, and he has to assist me. I am trying to imagine navigating my fat ass through my old world. Taking a buss. Fitting in chairs. Seeing my old friends and family try to adjust to my new size...
"No!" The cry is out of my throat before I know it. "Please, no! I just want to eat!"
He smiles devilishly wide. "Don't you want freedom?"
"No, I..." I stammer. My cheeks wobble. Even my voice sounds muffled now - sounds fat.
I shiver and blush as I say the next words. "I only want food."
"Is that so?"
"Y-yes." I pause. "P-please?"
You pat my fat cheek. "Well, if you say so... Breakfast's in ten, fatty."
The relief that washes over me is the best feeling in the world.
**
Like my work? Here's my Ko-Fi :)
You whimpered as you heard the machine whirring to life again, your mouth tight around the wide base of what felt like a funnel, your eyes frantic beneath the blindfold that had obscured your vision for days. Had it only been days? It felt like an eternity of feeling that sickly sweet sludge fill your mouth, blimp your cheeks, and force its way down your throat until you were on the verge of popping. But still, when you realized this feeding was chocolate flavored, a part of you felt some amount of joy before the pressure and strain of the liquid calories forced their way into your mouth.
By now, you'd tried every manner of resisting. Blocking the opening with your tongue, holding your breath, swallowing it faster hoping to trick the machine's mechanism into shutting off sooner. But nothing worked. At this point, you knew the path of least resistance was laying back, heavy against the soft surface where you'd been restrained for however long you'd been held here, gulping back mouthful after mouthful of delicious calories. Sometimes when you got tired, you just gave up on swallowing and let the liquid flow down your throat entirely, your breathing strained as you tried not to choke.
Your limbs were held in opposite directions, tight enough that you could barely wiggle… though at this point any wiggling you tried felt more like a wobble. All of this fattening sludge was undoubtedly making you gain weight -- even if it wasn't chock-full of calories and sugar, you'd hardly moved a muscle the whole time. Even though you couldn't see your body, you could feel it. You'd felt your clothes get tighter and tighter before they finally gave way to your heft. You could feel the weight keeping you comfortably pinned on the comfortable surface as you ate, sleep, and grew in this endless cycle.
The fullness you had right now was pleasant. Your belly tight, but not uncomfortable. From what you'd seen, that meant you were maybe halfway through a feeding. The machine never seemed to let up until you felt like every possible space in your stomach had been stretched to capacity, the clink of the flow stopping arriving just when you felt like your body wasn't going to be able to take another drop. You could practically feel yourself inflating from the sheer volume of liquid. But something was different today, the clink came early.
"Would you like to see what you've grown into?" a voice said, soft, but eager. You gulped, nervously, though it felt wrong without something to swallow down. Unable to speak coherently with the funnel in your mouth, you nodded, your breaths growing more frantic. The blindfold lifted, your eyes squinting from the sudden harsh light. Above you, squirmed a large shape, your vision too fuzzy to make it out clearly…
As it came into focus, you realized you were that large shape.
Your thick belly, stacked in two fat rolls, wobbled anxiously, sloshing with the shake you'd already gulped down. Stretch marks zagged their way in a messy pattern across every inch of it, the blubbery fat curving to spill over your thighs and stack at your sides. Your thighs were flabby and wide, even your feet looking widened from lack of use. Your face, partially obscured by the funnel and tube that fed it, was framed by the thickest double chin. Every feeling suddenly made sense. Every fold and roll you'd caught perception of connecting to your mind rewiring itself to your new body. You squirmed anxiously as the machine began to spin back on, the chocolatey sludge making its way back towards your funnel.
"Isn't this what you've always wanted? So fat, every expectation, every thought removed outside of your unending growth?" the voice continued. The chocolate taste, sickly sweet, hit your tongue as you submitted and let your mind relax into the familiar cycle of gulping, your eyes softly fixed on your body's small, constant jiggles reverberating from every swallow as you started to feel yourself fill up even more, watching as your belly rounded, the fat subtly parting and straining for your stomach to swell.
Without realizing you'd been freed, your hands were suddenly clutching at your belly, then desperately grabbing at your blobby fat, your chest, your sides. The restraints were gone, but you weren't trying to get up, or even reaching for the funnel.
You let your hands sink into your belly, kneading it encouragingly, willing it to take as much as it could. The voice was right. This was what you'd always wanted. You'd get as fat as they wanted you to, it would never be enough.
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If you missed it, I posted an inflation on my OF this weekend 💕
We were trying to see how many pumps of air I could fit in me because I never really count them… now we know that 80 pumps of air can fit comfortably in my gut. It has me a little wet preoccupied thinking about how many more might fit in there less comfortably… 🫣
