#pop teasing

It only takes a few deep breaths, their lips somehow sealed perfectly around yours, until you're completely inflated and at their mercy. Really all you can manage is whimpering and uselessly wiggling your hands.

Hell, send me nightmares of just how helpless you'd make me and what I will be subject to once I'm too big to stop you…

This winter is full of firsts for you and your girlfriend.

It's the first winter you two are living together, which you're starting to enjoy; she's great at keeping your tiny self warm.

It's also the first winter you're experiencing as the "new" you. After years and dozens of incidents and "accidents" of the juicy variety, it's become a permanent... "Affliction" for you. No matter how often you get juiced, you always have the slightest tinge of blue SOMEWHERE on you, and soon enough you start swelling up slowly again.

As far as firsts go, this winter is full of good ones. That being said, there have been a couple downsides.

The worst part, you think, is the boredom; your bear-like girlfriend might not hibernate through the whole winter season, but she's certainly a heavy sleeper.

Not that you can blame her, really. With your juicer broken with no sign of repairs until spring on top of how much you build up overnight even when you get juiced right before bed, the only way for you to avoid... The p-word — is for her to gorge herself on your juice multiple times a day.

Neither of you are complaining, of course... And it doesn't stop her from gorging herself on other parts of her winter stockpile — thinking of yourself as part of said stockpile sends a gurgling shiver through your stomach. Since it takes considerably less time for you to eat, you often get to watch as she guzzles down honey and tear into dried meats or baked goods...

But a special shiver tingles through you when she eats the wild berries that burst against her teeth, which shamelessly gnash down on them while you watch... Making heavy eye contact all the while — with extra emphasis on the "heavy"...

Just the envious thoughts of those (lucky) berries turns your blue cheeks a darker shade while your stretched-to-capacity stomach gurgles. You let out a low moan as you inch out ever-so-slightly; you're fairly sure you've reached an even ten feet in diameter, your taught blue skin accentuated with the divots for your plump hands and chunky feet along with dark blue stretch marks that loudly announce your growing capacity.

Then, you feel the juice filling you slosh about as heavy footsteps approach the room. Your girlfriend's stomach enters the room well before she does; you know the only reason she can move right now is the fact that underneath the mountain of lard and fur is the foundation of a twelve-foot beefcake.

Your girlfriend yawns, her sharp teeth on full display as her clawed hand idly scratches her exposed stomach — none of her shirts can fit past her breasts, anymore. "G'morning, sweetie," she mumbles groggily, her voice almost as husky as herself.

"M-mmmornin..."

You're so overfilled with juice at this point, it's difficult to articulate anything more than that.

"Looking full," she gently places her palm on your bloated form, one of her claws lightly ghosting the edge of your navel, and she smiles with teeth so sharp you're almost afraid you'll pop just LOOKING at them.

You'd be lying if you said the threat didn't excite you.

"Let's see if I can't help," she adds as both her hands drift lower, touching you only with her palms as she starts the tall task of rolling you from a sitting position to laying on your back.

It's a long process — not for lack of strength on her part, you know. Rolling you takes her longer simply because she needs to be extra careful with her claws when you're THIS swollen.

"We need to get a pulley or something," she muses as she leans her elbow against you, the ends of her claws lightly tapping the surface of your skin as she drums her fingers. "I can't have one of THESE-" she just barely, ever-so-slightly presses the flat edge of a claw against you, "popping my favorite berry, now can I? At least..." She whispers in that thick, husky voice, "Not on accident."

Her teasing coaxes the first juicy orgasm out of you before she's even done speaking, of course; she knows your buttons so well at this point. Like how the slightest of grazes with her teeth will send you FLOWING.

By the time you're "normal," she's left sitting with a belly filled with all your juice and licking her blue-stained teeth.

"So then," you flash her a toothy smile of your own, gingerly pressing your palm into her stomach as it gurgles hungrily. "Ready for breakfast?"

You both know she is, and the constantly-swelling berry in you doubts she'll be able to get up for the rest of winter at this point. "Oh well," you think as you get dressed before getting breakfast ready. You're sure she won't mind you climbing her whenever you need a juicing.

Though a horny little corner of your mind fantasizes about what'll happen when YOU'RE too full and juicy to move, now that she's similarly indisposed...

As much as most comics and art tend to ignore it, being made fully aware of your surroundings -By Force- thanks to how big you're getting (Be it fattening or inflating) is one of the strangest, strongest appeals to me.

The environment is just as much a toy in the moment as I am the air pump or food cart is.

~w~

Oh no! Lester got hit with the "dart that makes you a werewolf and inflates you till you pop" dart! Such a shame.