Mrs. Belly

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Rebecca’s legs burned as she held herself in position. Her new weight, her new size, it was almost too much for her body to support. Even though at least a dozen of the numerous extra pounds she’d gained had gone to the muscles in her quads, hamstrings, and butt, even that was just barely enough to support all of the extra maternal curves she now carried. As she looked down at herself, one hand instinctively reaching to her back for support, Rebecca couldn’t help be awed by what she was.

All of this–these massive breasts, this incredible dome of a stomach, the gargantuan backside that made any chair she sat in a lounge chair–was all her. Every inch, every pound, it belonged to her. It was the most surreal thing, because at times she felt marooned in her own form, a prisoner of the life she was so expertly growing inside her. And yet other times it felt completely natural, almost right, even, to be this big. The constant fullness she now experienced was somehow both alien and a completely normal part of her existence.

Rebecca’s legs burned as she held herself in position. Her new weight, her new size, it was almost too much for her body to support. Even though at least a dozen of the numerous extra pounds she’d gained had gone to the muscles in her quads, hamstrings, and butt, even that was just barely enough to support all of the extra maternal curves she now carried. As she looked down at herself, one hand instinctively reaching to her back for support, Rebecca couldn’t help be awed by what she was.

All of this–these massive breasts, this incredible dome of a stomach, the gargantuan backside that made any chair she sat in a lounge chair–was all her. Every inch, every pound, it belonged to her. It was the most surreal thing, because at times she felt marooned in her own form, a prisoner of the life she was so expertly growing inside her. And yet other times it felt completely natural, almost right, even, to be this big. The constant fullness she now experienced was somehow both alien and a completely normal part of her existence.

Good bimbos gain weight and get round jiggly thighs that master can grab

Good bimbos gain weight, they get soft and squishy so they can take more spanking

Good bimbos gain weight so their ass gets bigger

Good bimbos gain weight so their body is primed for use

Good bimbos gain weight so they look pretty

Hit a new limit of food in me last night thanks to a feeder♥️🎈 began with a takeout order of Carl's Jr- 3 bacon cheeseburgers, 15 pc tender and a milkshake. Followed by 1L cake shake and 1L water. Just couldnt stop eating and ate half a huge tray of homemade banana bread with cream cheese topping, washed down with almost a full gallon of milk and another 2L water. Went even further and had half a huge tray of cheesy bread with another 1L water.

So full and pregnant feeling, every stretchmark I had was pulled out to the max I legit felt like I gave myself new ones... doing more of the same tonight again😻😮‍💨

See more here 🎈🎈🎈

Belly growth progression from the other night. After a plate of asada fries and a big chicken burrito I still was so hungry.. ate 2 pints of ice cream, then took another pint and melted it for 2L cake shake. Got it down with about 5-6L water. When I stuff this much I do it over the course of all night, and you can literally see all the swelling fattening foods traveling down my stomach getting more gradually disolved. It looks like I ate someone then they quickly dissolved into soft lower belly fat.... 🫣😋😋🫣🎈♥️🎈

Then the standing aftermath. God I need to look more painfully pregnant😭😭so hungry for more.. see more aftermath below8)

Ugh, begging for your belly to stop growing. Ugggggggh ~

His belly, as it expands, sounds like a balloon being pushed past its limit too. He holds as much of his belly as he could and tries as best as he could to resist the growth, holding it back but it’s futile

His stomach and himself seemingly get into a contest in who can moan the loudest.

“Please stop… I can’t keep… growing…” he grunts out. He really should save his breath, especially with all this mounting pressure, the lack of space in him. What’s the point of begging? This is all you are now; just a baby-making machine. Give in and accept it

His belly swiftly outgrows him and he can only whimper and hope this isn’t it; that he wouldn’t pop.

He is too stuffed…