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nicsnort · 5 days ago

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Sweet Cream

NSFW 18+ male minotaur (Tyrus) x female reader

Contains: lactation, milking, hucow, overstimulation, romantic Valentine's date, size difference, and physical transformations

Word Count: 3927

Lore/World-building prompt

Today is Lover's Day, and you wanted to do something special for your minotaur boyfriend. He loves the idea of milking you, but since you aren't ready for calves yet, you find a witch's potion to help you in making his fantasies come true.

Same minotaur character and reader found in After Party but it isn't necessary to read that one first

You had been seeing Tyrus for nearly three months. The relationship was going well by your standards. He was as sweet as cream despite his imposing minotaur figure. After he learned how attracted you were to monsters, he was a bit overprotective while on dates if other monsters were around, but he felt no threat from humans. However, Tyrus still snorted at any human men he caught staring at you to scare them off. Human or monster, Tyrus did not need to worry about you breaking up with him to explore your options. The two of you got along well, and you found yourself catching feelings for this minotaur who could have been a one-night stand. Not to mention the sex. The sex with him continued to be as amazing as the first night - even more so as your body adjusted to the magical effect of his minotaur essence so you could actually participate instead of just letting him use you as a sex toy. Though that was still fun to do sometimes.

After every night together, he took such good care of you. But Lover’s Day was approaching, and you wanted to do something for him.

Tyrus loved to talk about milking you during sex. It was one of his biggest fantasies. But to milk you, Tyrus would have to get you pregnant. A three-month relationship was not long enough to consider something as permanent as a calf, and both of you were busy building your careers either way.

Then you saw it on the corner of the internet where Teratosexuals discussed their stigmatized desires but also solutions to problems they faced in their relationships with monsters. A link to a witch’s webshop that provided various potions and remedies of a sexual nature. And for sale - Moo-duce.

The lame attempt at coming up with a clever name aside, it was exactly what you needed. A potion that would cause anyone with mammary tissue and nipples to produce milk.

You ordered the potion immediately, and it mysteriously appeared on your kitchen counter the next day. Magic was great. The potion would take 24-36 hours to produce the first milk, and the results would fade after three days or so. You drank the potion a day and a half before your Lover’s Day date with Tyrus. You wanted to make sure your jugs were full of milk for him. There had been a warning that the mammary tissue and nipples would likely be uncomfortable during the 24-36 hours of growth and milk production, especially for first-time users. Tyrus was worth it, though.

After a couple of hours, your breasts started to feel tender. A few hours later, you noticed the first signs of swelling, indicated by your breasts continuously popping out of your bra when you moved too much. By the time you went to bed twelve hours after ingestion, your breasts felt like pins and needles.

The users had recommended massaging your breasts to alleviate the feeling. So, lying there in bed, you cupped your breasts, imagining Tyrus’ hands as you massaged them. You could feel the increased weight already. They had to have swelled a cup in size. Pulling on your nipples, you imagined how it would feel to have milk pouring from them. Tyrus’ lips already felt amazing when he sucked on them, but to have pressure released when that happened? A few reviews said their nipples felt as sensitive as clits.

You couldn’t wait.

In the morning, the pins and needles had faded, but now your breasts felt hot. You walked around your home with your shirt and bra off. Luckily, you had the day off. Sometime after lunch, you suddenly felt a cool tingle around your nipples. A wave of excitement crashed over you. Biting your lower lip, you slowly looked down with anticipation. Leaking out of your areolas were several white droplets of milk.

You danced excitedly. It had worked!

Raising a hand to your breasts, you wiped the droplets away. Your fingers lingered over your nipple. You wanted to tug on it. You wanted to feel the release. Breathing out slowly, you fought down the urge. No, Tyrus would have the honor of being the first to milk you. You wanted to save it all for him. You were meeting him for dinner tonight.

A few hours later, you started to ready yourself for your date. As you walked, you swore you could feel the milk sloshing around inside of you, yearning to be released. You had pre-bought a larger bra for this evening, but as you put it on, you realized it was too small! The instructions said to expect a growth of one to two cup sizes, but as you quickly measured yourself, you realized you had gone up three and a half!

Fuck. There wasn’t time to go out and buy another. Unless you paid the exorbitant costs of InstantImp, there was no chance to get one that fit. You weighed the options in your head. You had bought a cute but baggy sweater for a top. Despite it being baggy, people would definitely be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra…damn it.

Opening up InstantImp, you managed to find the same bra in your new size. Of course, there was an increase in fees due to the holiday. At least you could return the other one you bought. Putting in your order, it took ten minutes for the delivery Imp to knock on your door. In your straining bathrobe, you answered the door.

The imp’s wings kept him at human eye level. He wore a bored expression, but his eyes perked up at the sight of you. His flat bat-like nose flared. “Mmmm, moo moo,” he commented, “Thirsty. Give tip?”

“I’ll report you,” you told him shortly, taking your package. The imp pouted and muttered something under his breath in its natural language before teleporting away to pick up its next delivery.

Imps were useful creatures, but their grasp of manners was as lacking as their grasp of the mortal spoken word. It didn’t help that the Imps bound to InstantImp had been created during the Great Incursion by the Demon Lords. At least, this way, they served some purpose instead of wandering in hordes, spreading corruption, assaulting people, and causing chaos. However, you were unsure if, as one of the last corporations, InstantImp was any less evil than the Demon Lords. Was it still the exploitation of labor if the creatures were literally created to serve others?

Finally, you were able to get dressed. The baggy sweater was less baggy than you had wanted, but as you examined yourself in the mirror, it was hard to tell any difference. If anything, it looked like you were wearing a padded bra.

At six, there was a knock on your apartment door. Opening it, you saw Tyrus, his big black-furred form filling the doorway, his horns barely missing the hallway's ceiling. “Omorfia mou,” he greeted, holding out a bouquet of red flowers - gallic roses, traditional for minotaurs, or so you’ve read.

“Tyrus, my handsome bull,” you replied, taking the roses and inhaling their scent. They were lovely.

“They are enchanted; they will stay fresh for over a month even without water.”

Your smile grew wider as you set them on the kitchen counter. You will find a vase for them later. Locking your door, you took Tyrus’ arm and headed outside. “So, are you doing to tell me where you are taking me yet,” you asked as he led you down the street.

“No,” he replied with a devious expression. “A surprise means a surprise. Perhaps I should blindfold you and simply carry you there.”

“A tempting thought, but I shall pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure? I could put you on my shoulders. I know how much you love to hold on to my horns with my head between your legs.”

“I believe I would be the wrong way around for the position I enjoy.”

“True. Then I could hold you in my arms, princess carry?” The two of you continued to make sexually charged banter back and forth. While Tyrus never did carry you, you completely lost track of where the two of you were going. All according to Tyrus’ plan.

“And here we are,” he announced after a ten-minute walk after getting off the tram. He gestured to a brickwork building with a large ornate wooden door that looked like it belonged in a castle. Old World was inscribed in iron-wrought letters above the door. You had heard of this place. It was a restaurant that catered to monsters and those from beyond the Rift, or the Old World as they called it. It was hard, if not impossible, for those from this plane to gain access.

You gasped and hugged Tyrus as tightly as you could. Your milk-filled breasts leaked slightly from the pressure. “Really? Are you sure it's okay? I mean - I’m allowed in?”

“No, this is just for me; eat elsewhere,” he said, barely hiding a smile as he spoke. Then, he could not keep a straight expression. His ears twitched with delight as he chuckled. “Yes, it is alright, Omorfia mou. They are doing a Lover’s Day special for those with human partners here.”

While plenty of food from beyond the Rift had shown up in restaurants, those recipes used ingredients from this plane and were changed to fit the norms here. This was as true to Old World food as you could get in this plane.

You danced excitedly, only collecting yourself as Tyrus led you through the front doors. A kitsune welcomed you, its tails swishing majestically, before leading you to the reserved table. It seemed they knew the sizes of those who would be eating at the table as Tyrus had a sturdier chair with his size, and you had a taller one to put you at near equal height to the table. Looking around, you saw all sorts of accommodations for various monstrous bodies. Unlike the human world, those beyond the Rift were used to adjusting for a variety of needs.

The dinner was a whirlwind of new experiences. The restaurant had created a tasting arrangement for the humans in the restaurant to give them the full experience. You tried roasted mimic, braised sunroots, fermented ooze noodles, and a whole variety of other things that you quickly forgot the names of in your excitement. You washed the food down with samples of Oakengleam Stout, Glowing Mushroom Wine, and Cinder Cider, the last of which caused you to breathe out a bit of smoke with each exhale. Finally, the tour of foods ended with a slice of heart apple pie.

“They say that those who share heart apple pie on Lover’s Day will have a passionate and happy year together,” Tyrus told you, offering a bite off his fork.

“Oh, that is very romantic,” you cooed, a blush on your face. Around the restaurant, several other people were making similar comments, as their lovers had probably told them the same thing.

You wrapped your lips around the bite he offered you, a bit more sensually than needed, then offered him a piece of your own slice. A romantic year you hoped for indeed.

Once dessert was finished and the bill paid, the two of you began heading to Tyrus’ apartment. It was a twenty-minute walk or so, but during that time, you noticed something. Your breasts were beginning to hurt. You could feel the pressure inside of them building up, needing release. By the gods, you needed to be milked.

“Are you alright, Omorfia mou,” Tyrus asked as you reached his apartment building. “Did a dish not sit well with you?”

“No, it was all delicious,” you replied. You leaned into him as you entered the elevator. “It was the most wonderful surprise…Under my clothes, I have a surprise for you, too; it has just gotten a bit uncomfortable…”

Tyrus snorted with anticipation, his tail lifting and curving to show excitement. “Well, then, let us get it off you soon.”

You giggled to yourself. He thought it was lingerie.

In his apartment, your excitement only grew. Your nipples ached, longing to be touched, pulled, and suckled on. Tyrus wrapped his arms around you from the back, pulling you against his firm body. His fingers played with the hem of your sweater, slowly pulling it up. “Can I have my surprise now,” he asked.

You hummed in anticipation, turning around in his arms, your aching breasts brushing against his firm chest. “Oh, yes, you may.”

Tyrus’ thick, calloused fingers dragged along your sensitive sides as he pulled the sweater up and over your head, revealing your plain blue bra. You saw his brow furrow and ears flick with confusion. “Uh, it is a very pretty color, Omorfia. A push-up bra?”

You laughed aloud. “That isn’t the surprise, silly. I never said it was something I was wearing. You see, I bought a potion from a verified witch to help make your fantasies, our fantasies, come true.”

As you spoke, you reached back and undid the strap to your bra. Pulling it away, you revealed your milky tits. “As you asked me on the night we met, can I get you a drink?”

The bull went silent as he took in your leaking nipples. You watched as his pants tented, his member growing rock hard at the sight of your milk-filled breasts. “Nomízo óti eímai erotevménos mazí sou,” he said in his native language as quietly as a prayer.

His hooves scraped against the floor as he kneeled before you. Usually, he would lift you up on the table or counter, but now he got down on your level. His large hands cupped your breasts. Your breasts had grown so large that they now overflowed his grasp instead of being engulfed by it. Tyrus snorted with pleasure as he lifted your heavy globes. His hot breath made your nipples stand at attention, milk dripping from their pores.

“Please, Tyrus. I need you to milk me.”

That broke him.

His broad tongue swept out across your right breast, licking up every leaking drop before finally wrapping his hot lips around your nipple. With a mighty suck, you felt the milk rush out of your breast, through your nipple, and pour into his eager mouth.

Your eyes closed, and your head tipped back as you moaned with pleasure. Gripping his horns, you held him in place. This was ecstatic. Each strong suck sent a jolt down your spine to your pussy. Soon your cunt was dripping as fast as your milk.

After a long suck, Tyrus broke off from your right breast and switched to the left one. You gasped with pleasure. With each strong pull of your tit, you felt your pussy clench like a slow, extended orgasm. “Fuck, Tyrus. I feel like I’m gonna cum just from this.”

He snorted, the speed of his suckling quickening. He took your words as a challenge.

The muscles of your cunt clenched faster and faster. Gods, you were getting close. Your hands tightened on his horns. Your hips rolled, desperate for that little bit of extra to push you over the edge. You were so close. You were gonna--

Then Tyrus broke his mouth off again, leaving you at the edge of your orgasm. “Noooo,” you whined, tears forming at the corner of your eyes in frustration.

His hands held your breasts up, and he pressed them together. Lowering his head, he captured both of your leaking nipples in his mouth and sucked. Twin streams of milk shot out of your breasts and down his throat. You screamed. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hips shook violently as you came hard. He continued to gulp down your milk, extending your orgasm.

Finally, your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Your hands released his horns as your legs gave out from the pleasure. Tyrus caught you, releasing your breasts to hold you up. Lifting your feet off the ground, he carried you over to the sex swing he had installed a couple of weeks ago. With surprising strength, even for being a minotaur, he tore your pants off you, but the sound of ripping cloth didn’t even phase you. Your cunt was still twitching with aftershocks as he placed you in the harness face down so your breasts hung like a pair of udders.

“Look at you, agápi,” he praised, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “just like a cow. My little hucow with milk leaking from your tits.”

Another rip of fabric, and you felt his heavy cock rest between your swollen needy lower lips. You could smell his precum. The heady scent alone caused you to moan. His hot member rubbed against your pussy as he reached around you. Tyrus’ strong hands cupped your breasts once more, his thumbs and forefingers sliding down to pinch your nipples. Then he tugged.

Milk sprayed out of your tits. You threw your head back as your back arched with pleasure. Rhythmically, Tyrus began to milk your tits. First, the right nipple was pulled, then the left, repeat. Each tug on your nipples sent a stream of milk to the floor. You felt like a cow, and you loved it.

Your hips rocked, grinding against his cock. You wanted it in you. You wanted to milk his cock with your cunt as he milked your breasts. Your clit dragged across the silky skin of his dick. So soon after your first orgasm, it was already driving you back toward the edge.

“Tyrus, Tyrus,” you began to chant in sync with your milking. “More, I need. Mo-mo-moooooo.”

You came once again, your juice gushing over his shaft. Tyrus relented his stimulation. His callused hands slid across your skin and held your hips. He pulled his cock back and began lining it up with your unused but soaking hole. “Listen to that, just like a real cow. Usually, it takes my cum down your throat to do that.”

The flared head of his weeping dick pressed against your pussy, slowly sinking in. Each glorious inch sent you further towards the edge of sanity. It was too much, but even so, you wanted more. Through the mind-numbing pleasure, you tried to ask for more again. Still, all that came out was a series of soft moos and moans.

He began to move your hips back and forth using the swing instead of thrusting.“But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be my breeding cow. Just think how much milk you’ll make when you are heavy with my calf. I’ll keep you bred just so you are always full of milk.”

All you could do was hang there in the swing and let Tyrus use you like a toy. Each time he snapped your hips back to hilt his cock inside of you, the force caused milk to drip from your tits. As he spoke, his pace sped up. “You’ll be hooked up to a milking machine. Spending hours on end cumming from your tits alone. Then, when I got home, I’d breed you over and over and over and over and - gah - Moooooooo!”

Tyrus mooed himself as he came deep within you. You could feel his hot, creamy seed filling you up, pouring into your womb in search of an egg to fertilize. Once more, your inner walls clenched, milking his cock. You wanted it all. He was right; you just wanted to be a cow. His breeding cow.

With his cock still rock hard within you, Tyrus lifted you out of the sex swing and deposited you on the bed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

You awoke to the bright afternoon light seeping into the apartment through the windows. Tyrus’ chest rose and fell steadily underneath you, his half-hard cock still deep within your pussy. Tyrus was already a beast in bed, but perhaps it was true that fresh milk was an aphrodisiac for minotaurs because he had fucked you for an hour straight, fell asleep, then woke up and fucked you some more.

Your body was so relaxed and delightfully heavy. Tyrus had drained your breasts of milk last night, but you already felt them filling up again. You were starving, though, and extremely thirsty. Carefully, you lifted yourself off of Tyrus, your sore but sensitive pussy twitching as his cock was freed from inside of you. Sliding off of him, your body felt heavy; your head, in particular, felt like there was more weight on it. Strange.

The movement woke him. “Mmmm, kaliméra agápi mou,” he muttered sleepily.

You recognized the first word, good morning. “It is far past morning, I think, but it is a very, very good afternoon.”

“It's Time for breakfast, still,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Perhaps some fresh milk?”

He grinned and cracked his eyes open to look at you. A sudden look of confusion crossed his face, and he blinked rapidly. Sitting up to look at you properly, he stared. “Am I still dreaming?”

“No?” Your ears flicked with curiosity. Tyrus’ tail brushed against your leg. You looked down and saw that his tail was firmly on the opposite side, far from you. Turning your head further, you saw another cow’s tail, the same color as your hair, sweeping back and forth against your leg. Reaching down, a growing look of horror on your face, you followed it up…right to the base of your spine.

All tiredness in your limbs was forgotten as you bolted off the bed to the full-length mirror. Reflected at you, you saw your milk-swollen breasts, your normal body, but three very unexpected things: a swishing cow’s tail, a set of cattle’s ears in place of your human ones, and a pair of small shiny black bovine horns sticking out the sides of your head.

You screamed.

It took several minutes for Tyrus to calm you down. You sat at his kitchen table on his lap, sipping tea while he stroked your back calmingly. “The reviews and warnings never said anything like this,” you bemoaned.

“You are sure it was a verified witch? Not someone trying to make quick coin?”

“Yes, I mean, I am pretty sure…so many said she was trustworthy, people who are big names in the community…I followed the instructions precisely. I mean, my breasts grew more than expected, but that’s it.”

Tyrus thought for a moment. “Did anything else weird happen yesterday? Anything unexpected?”

You shook your head. “I just did housework and caught up on a few shows. The only unexpected thing was that my bigger bra didn’t fit, and I had to order a new one at the last minute.”

Tyrus hmmed in contemplation. “Wait, how did you get a new bra?”

“I used InstantImp.”

“Fuck. Tell me, did you anger the imp somehow? Did it say or do anything strange?”

You furrowed your brow, trying to recall. “The imp smelt my milk and asked for a drink as a tip…I told him I would report him…he…fuck. He muttered something in that demonic language of theirs and disappeared.”

Tyrus snorted with anger. “That little fucking Imp cast a spell on you. Their magic is supposed to be bound.” He sighed and pressed his snout to the top of your head. “Don’t worry. Until we figure this out, at least you will get to be the cutest cow I have ever seen.”

_____________________________________________________________

Other Department of Monster Affairs works

Hello Neighbor - m!werewolf x f!reader, teratophilia, knotting, heat. One-shot.

Sex Therapist - m!Incubus x f!reader, hypnotism, dubious consent, teratophilia, blow jobs. Part 1.

For other works see my masterlist

#minotaur x human #monster fucker #minotaur x reader #monster kink #monster x you #teratophillia #monster smut #monster x reader #monster x human #Department of Monster Affairs

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best-cosmetics123 · 1 year ago

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growth-opportunities · 2 months ago

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A girl becomes addicted to her breasts getting bigger, and her second puberty aides her in becoming ginormous (talking hyper-sized, if possible - as big as you desire)

I genuinely don't understand how every girl doesn't get addicted to the feeling of their breasts growing. I was pretty much hooked the morning I outgrew my first bra. There was something... empowering about it. I don't know if I can fully describe it. The actual bra was uncomfortable, sure, but knowing that I was too big for it, subtle bulges around the edges... god. It was the first time in my entire life that I felt sexy. I was literally too sexy for my clothes and, fuck, it felt amazing. That was when I first started fantasizing about being properly huge, waiting until my parents went to bed and awkwardly searching the internet for "what happens when bigger than Z cup". But, as much as I wanted it, genetics had other plans.

It should have been a little bit obvious, in hindsight, but greed had blinded my young eyes. As I learned while snooping through the laundry, my older sister stopped growing at a C. My mom wore D-cup bras, but I'm pretty sure that was mostly from having kids and, while I was willing to do a lot for bigger tits, that seemed a little extreme. I was never going to huge like I had imagined, like I had dreamed, like I had prayed. My growth pretty much petered out at a large B/small C depending on the brand. That was all that genetics had deigned to give me and I can't pretend that I wasn't disappointed. No matter how many of my friends reassured me that I was "the perfect size" and they "fit my frame", that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted big. I wanted huge. I wanted the kind of tits that would make even the most hardened of hentai-consuming perverts (a crowd that I quickly found myself part of) wonder if it wasn't a little much.

But I wasn't about to take it lying down.

I got a job at a cafe to "save money for college", but every last penny I had went to buying supplements online. The unruly guests, making my cheeks hurt with forced smiles, doing everything I could to maintain my customer service voice, all of it was worth it in pursuit of a singular goal. Creams and lotions, pills and supplements, anything that even remotely promised growth was hastily ordered in lust-fueled hazes late at night. Shady sites stole my credit card info, like, three times and I was almost positive most were sugar pills or snake oil, but the joke about a man actually inventing penis-enlarging pills and having no way to market it stuck in my brain. If there was one breast growth supplement out there that was 100% legit then by god I was going to find it.

And, despite the incredible odds, it did work! To an extent. I managed to push my tits to a very swollen DD. Constantly massaging my breasts, kneading various lotions into my skin made them incredibly sensitive. If I hadn't already been obsessed with my tits, that level of sensitivity would have made it so. I could feel them bouncing and sloshing in my bras constantly. As much as I hated them, bras were a must. I didn't care about the 'modesty' or whatever, but feeling my shirt casually rub against my nipples all fucking day drove me insane. There were days where I didn't leave me room, just played with my tits until I came over and over again. Eventually, I'd stagger out at some point in the evening to rehydrate before crawling back into my cave, teasing my nipples and fantasizing about being double, triple, orders of magnitude bigger. I tried my best to come to terms with the fact that this is probably as busty as I'd ever be. Until, one morning, it wasn't.

I can still remember waking up and feeling that weight on my chest. As many times as I had dreamed about it, I didn't know what it was like until I finally felt it, that kind of heft on my chest. My jaw dropped open when I pulled back the covers and saw what had become of my tits. They doubled in size. Overnight. They literally looked inflated, almost unnaturally round, my skin red and covered in a web of veins. The sensitivity was mind-blowing. I could feel the air moving over my skin and it was just... woof. Between the size and the sensitivity, I had to get myself off immediately. Twice. Usually post-nut clarity had never hit me too hard previously, mostly just disappointment at my impossible fantasies, but that day it hit me like a freight train. Something wasn't right.

A few doctor's visits and some blood work later and I had an answer. I never admitted to taking the supplements, though my doctor was skeptical; he had never seen anything like this in someone whose thyroid wasn't full of holes. It turns out that, while the pills didn't really do much, all of the hormones that were in them were just sort of sitting in my system. If I had only taken one or two, they would have been flushed out pretty easily. But I was taking more than a dozen different pills. I was unknowingly adding more and more kindling to the pyre, adding in the hormonal equivalent of gasoline and thermite, just waiting until it reached critical mass and self-ignited. It was enough to trigger what was essentially a second puberty, my body starting to flood with self-made hormones outside of the supplements, but thanks to the variety of topical creams and lotions, it would be contained almost entirely in my breasts.

I was fairly silent on the car ride home, though I did whimper a bit when we hit a pothole. I trudged up to my room, carefully disrobed myself. My eyes were glued to the mirror, unable to take my eyes off of myself. Titflesh overflowed my palms, bulged out between my fingers, there was just so much of it. I could barely come to terms with the fact that all that was me. That thought alone nearly made me cum. The rest of the day was a lust-fueled frenzy. My pussy was largely neglected, focused entirely on my tits to get myself off over and over and over again. It felt incredible. The reality would come later, but I was too busy cumming then.

Unlike my first go 'round, which was painfully slow, my second puberty wasted no time. I was putting on at least an inch of bust every day. Sometimes, if I sat very still and held my breath, I swear I could watch them swelling in front of my eyes. Within a week, they were big enough to reach my bellybutton and, a week after that, they were almost at my hips. I was eating like a glutton, but I had to; my growing udders were taking up every calorie I put into my body. At some point, I started staying in my room not just because I was spending every hour of the day masturbating but because I had outgrown not just all of my clothes, but even our beach towels weren't bit enough to cover my tits. I could feel, every day, as the weight pulled heavier on my shoulders, nearly dragging me off my feet as they slid off my lap. I could feel my mobility slipping away, which would have been more frightening if it wasn't so arousing.

So anyway, that about brings things to now! My breasts are still technically growing, though at this size, it's kind of hard to notice an extra inch or two. I haven't officially measured these things in ages, so I can only guess that I'd have gone around the alphabet a few dozen times by now. I'm big enough that each, individual tit is big enough for me to use as a bed with room left over. Reaching my nipples is a workout, having to gather up so much titflesh in my hands and arms to get to them, though I rarely make it all the way there. I tend to get a little 'distracted'. The irony is that, after all this time, finally experiencing what it's like to be big has actually cooled me a little bit on the enormous fantasies. I mean, I'm already living the dream! Outside of just "bigger", there wasn't much left to explore on that avenue.

I have been taking a recent interest in lactation, though...

#breast expansion #breast growth #breast obsession #breast envy #second puberty #sensitivity change #GO asks #I always get carried away when the ideas are really good #1st person pov

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es-draws · 1 year ago

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Cream

“Is this what you want?”

You tease her, dangling the plump chocolate eclair above her sugar-stained lips. She answers with a moan, her mouth parting in a gasp, her head tilting back in pleasure. You know by now that she won’t answer, that she can’t answer. She has no breath left to give. But she nods, every inch of her begging you not to stop.

“That’s right. You need it, don’t you?”

You lower the treat to her lips. She stretches to take in more, greedily filling her mouth with doughy pastry, urging you to give her all she can take. She moans again through the mass of cake, her cheeks filled to the brim. She chews through layer after layer of devilish delight, through creamy filling that bursts across her tongue, through frosting thick enough to make her eyes water, until she finally manages to swallow the mass of eclair in one momentous gulp.

The whir intensifies, and she lets out a low, shuddering moan.

“Such a good girl” you say. You grab another.

You hadn’t expected her to enjoy it this much. You hadn’t expected her to want it this much. After all, it was your idea – and your kink. But she had obediently stayed as you pushed her in her seat. She shivered with anticipation as the rope tightened around her wrists. She whispered “hurry” when you bound her ankles to the chair. She had gasped when you placed the toy between her legs. And she had eaten every last bite you gave her since.

“Mmm…” she purrs through a mouthful of pastry.

“That was the last one.”

The remote clicks in your hand, and the buzzing rises. Her thighs tense and her knees squirm as she lets out a squeal.

“You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

You pat her bare tummy at the apex of its bulge, admiring its fullness, pleased with its growth. You wonder how much more it would take to make her truly grow. To turn this chubby starter belly into the blissfully fat gut it was meant to be.

As she writhes in pleasure, her pleading eyes meet yours. And you hatch an idea.

In the fridge you find your mark. A pint of heavy cream. Unopened. Sixteen-hundred calories in all its pure, indulgent, fattening glory. Just waiting to be drunk.

You don’t even need to ask.

She’s waiting for it when you return, mouth already open, head already tilted back. She needs no encouragement, no instruction, no gentle push. In this moment, it’s all she ever wanted.

You tilt the bottle to her mouth. She wraps her insatiable lips around it, ready to take it all in. Her eyes close and she swallows a mouthful. Hundreds of calories are guzzled down to stretch her overfilled stomach. She swallows another. And then another.

You flick the remote, and the whirring between her legs reaches a fever pitch.

“Mmmmm…”

She moans as she sucks down another gulp. A faint trickle of ivory white liquid spills from the corner of her mouth until fat droplets drip from her chin. She strains against her bonds, her back arching, her hips grinding against the seat. She does not stop.

A third of the bottle gone. A half. Three-quarters. With each second that passes, the box grows lighter, and her cries intensify. You know she’s close. You know she can’t take much more. You know she won’t stop now, she can’t stop now. Not until she finishes.

You run your hand over the curve of her tummy. She groans at your touch. You can feel how taut her skin is, how much her stomach has stretched. You’ve never seen her this big before. You run your hand in a circle around her girth, tracing your fingers from the bulge beneath her breasts down the crest of her middle. You encircle her wide navel teasingly before letting your hand come to rest, cradling the softness of her belly where it distends between her legs.

“Be a good girl and drink every last drop,” you ply. “Then you’ll get your reward.”

Your words send her tumbling over the edge. She guzzles down the final gulps, throes of ecstasy already washing over her, sucking greedily at the remaining drops before her mouth opens in a cry. She hangs there, back arched behind the perfect rounded curve of her belly, as she reaches her peak. She shudders and writhes in pure, utter climax for a blessed eternity. And then collapses. Falls back to a quivering, shuddering, shaking reality, in all her beautiful overfed glory.

“Such a good piggy,” you tease. Your hand returns to her bloated middle, already imagining the fat settling beneath your touch. “Can’t wait to see how much you’ll handle next.”

#this came to me in a daydream #and vice versa #anyway there's more art to come #like four more including animations #es-writes #es-draws

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fearfulfertility · 1 month ago

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MEDICAL REQUEST REPORT

DRC, Prenatal Division, Gestational Support Division

To: Operations Oversight Committee

From: Dr. [REDACTED], Gestational Support Division, Head of Dermatology

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: Increased Demand for Dermatological Supplies

Overview

The Dermatology Department has observed a significant increase in cases of nipple irritation and related dermatological complications associated with excessive lactation and weight gain among surrogates. This trend has created an acute demand for additional moisturizing lotions, ointments, and specialized care supplies, which our department currently lacks the funds or infrastructure to provide.

I. Key Observations:

Excessive Lactation

Surrogates carrying large multiples exhibit abnormally high milk production starting in mid to late-term gestation (15-20 days). This leads to skin overhydration, irritation, and cracking of the nipple and surrounding areolar tissue.

Nipple Irritation

Constant leakage causes persistent dampness, fostering irritation and increasing susceptibility to [REDACTED].

Friction from improperly fitted paternity garments exacerbates the problem, causing rawness in extreme cases.

Complications

Reports of dermatitis have risen by 37% over the past quarter, requiring additional intervention.

II. Lactation Volume Trends

Generally, surrogates at +15 days gestation can lactate up to 1 gallon or more of milk daily. This necessitates additional accommodations for milking and storage capabilities. The substantial output directly results from enhanced hormonal protocols, multi-fetal pregnancies, and specialized dietary regimens designed to maximize pre-natal milk supply.

"I wake up drenched, and the fabric sticks to me. My chest is so heavy it’s pulling my shoulders forward, and it feels like my back is going to snap. My pecs are always sore, and the creams don’t do much. It’s not funny when you can’t sleep because it feels like your chest is wetting itself." - Surrogate S136-645-L, 27 days gestation with dodecuplets (12)

Due to the extraordinary lactation demands, the average pectoral size for surrogates has risen to K or larger. This unprecedented increase in breast size presents unique challenges:

Physical Strain: The weight of milk-filled pectorals, combined with the already substantial physical burden of multi-fetal pregnancies, significantly increases strain on the back, shoulders, and chest.

Clothing Requirements: Standard paternity garments cannot support surrogates with such large pectoral sizes. Custom-fitted or medical-grade support is necessary to reduce discomfort and prevent long-term musculoskeletal issues.

Dermatological Concerns: The enlarged size and volume contribute to persistent skin irritation, chafing, and [REDACTED]. Prolonged dampness from lactation leakage exacerbates these conditions, emphasizing the need for high-quality emollients, breathable fabrics, and anti-[REDACTED] treatments.

III. Stretch Mark Management

The extreme abdominal growth observed in surrogates has resulted in widespread reports of severe stretch marks accompanied by skin tearing and irritation. The epidermis’s inability to maintain elasticity under such extreme strain has led to:

Deep dermal tears across the abdomen and sides, causing discomfort and risk of infection.

Skin discoloration and prolonged inflammation complications have led to [REDACTED].

"The stretch marks are everywhere — they itch like crazy. My belly is so big it rubs against my legs so badly when I walk. I’ve been using diaper cream because that’s all they have, and even that’s running out. It’s humiliating to ask for more!" - Surrogate S112-529-P, 30 days gestation with sexdecuplets (16)

Recommendations:

Increase inventory of stretch mark creams containing high-grade hyaluronic acid and retinol to improve skin elasticity and promote healing.

Provide surrogates with access to medical-grade silicone sheets for scar prevention.

Weight Gain and Related Complications

The rapid weight gain associated with multi-fetal pregnancies has also resulted in significant dermatological challenges in the buttocks and upper thigh areas. Reports of chafing, redness, and [REDACTED] have increased as surrogates struggle to manage:

Localized inflammation due to friction from excess weight.

Moisture buildup leads to skin irritation, particularly in the thighs and lower back creases.

"The swelling, the stretching, the leaking — it never ends. My pecs are so big they hit my belly like doorbell knockers whenever I walk. My nipples are basically faucets from the constant milk flow." - Surrogate S126-773-O, 28 days gestation with quindecuplets (15)

IV. Resource Needs

To address these challenges and maintain operational efficiency, the Dermatology Department formally requests the following:

Increased Lotion Supply

The current inventory of emollients and specialized nipple creams, including higher volumes of lanolin-based creams, breathable clothing, and anti-[REDACTED] treatments.

Provide high quantities of zinc oxide-based diaper creams to prevent and treat skin irritation caused by chafing and moisture.

Enhanced Clothing Options

Access to soft, breathable paternity garments designed to minimize friction and wick moisture is urgently needed. Custom-fitted support designed for surrogates with K-pectoral sizes or larger.

Additional Staff Support

More trained dermatological aides are required to handle the increasing caseload effectively.

Regularly monitoring surrogate health to preempt complications arising from excessive milk production and epidermal strain.

V. Impact on Compound Operations

Failure to address these dermatological issues promptly risks:

Reduced surrogate comfort, leading to lower compliance and increased resistance.

Escalated medical costs due to untreated infections and complications.

Conclusion

The Dermatology Department strongly advises immediate approval of the requested resources to mitigate these challenges and ensure the continued efficiency of the compound’s operations. Please prioritize the allocation of additional lotions, creams, and suitable clothing options for surrogates experiencing these conditions.

Report Prepared by Dr. [REDACTED], Gestational Support Division, Head of Dermatology

----------------

Sending...

Read...

----------------

To: Head of Dermatology, Dr. [REDACTED]

From: Director [REDACTED]

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: RE: Increased Demand for Dermatological Supplies

Following your memorandum's review, I approve the request for the increased lotion supply and additional staff support to manage the complications among surrogates.

However, the request for enhanced clothing options is denied at this time. While clothing-related discomfort is acknowledged, allocating resources to garments over medical supplies is not justifiable under current conditions. Prioritizing lotion supplies and preventative care will address most dermatological concerns without incurring unnecessary costs. Surrogates will continue wearing standard paternity garments or nothing at all (for late-term surrogates), and this decision will be reassessed during the next yearly review if issues persist.

Moving forward, while their discomfort is noted, surrogates are to remain functional assets. I expect your team to focus on preventative care and rapid treatment protocols to maintain compliance and meet compound objectives.

Director [REDACTED]

----------------

Click Here to return to DRC Report Archives

#mpreg #mpregkink #malepregnancy #mpregbelly #pregnantman #mpregmorph #mpregcaption #mpregstory #mpregbirth #mpregart #mpregnancy #aimpreg #mpregroleplay #malepregnant #latinompreg

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certifiedsexed · 1 month ago

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Hello. Do you have any info/resources about progesterone? (Preberafly for a trans woman ) Like It's recently twigged/clicked for me about the benefits f it (breast growth) but I've been on Oestrogen for 4 years now, would progesterone even do anything? (I.e I hav of course had breast growth in that time) What else does it do ? Any negative side effects? Would it be instead of or aswell as Esteogen? Is it injection or elsewise? Am I an eejit for not having considered it earlier? (Soz if this is too many questions)

Yes! This and this are both good references for info on progesterone, specifically made for and by trans women/fems!

It could! Whether progesterone works specifically for breast growth hasn't been proven-Some people report it, some don't. It's highly debated. (It's not that it has no possibility to do that! It's that people studying it aren't sure whether progesterone specifically causes breast growth or if its testosterone neutralizing/lowering affects help with breast growth.)

But it has been shown to lower testosterone levels and effects, as well as help with things like soft skin and maintaining bone strength!

As for side effects, you can be allergic but the regular possible side effects are mostly things like nausea, headaches, exhaustion, etc.

There is the possibility of inducing things like PMS and/or PMDD and depending on how you're taking it and with what, it can raise your possibility of breast cancer.

You can take progesterone with estrogen! In fact, that's for the best.

You can take progesterone orally, as a cream, as an injectable, etc. There are a lot of options! And no, you're not an idiot. There isn't a lot of information on gender-affirming HRT, especially not on things like progesterone.

Hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions. <3

#sex education #asks #trans education #transfem resources #transfem education #HRT education #progesterone #gender transition

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cedarxwing · 10 months ago

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The ending of Hannibal the novel explained

(aka the breastfeeding scene)

Here's the passage (end of Chapter 101):

I thought everyone was kidding about the breastfeeding kink jokes until my partner read Hannibal and the whole ending flew over their head. Their main takeaway was "that was weird." When I checked reddit, it seemed everyone was confused there too. I was gobsmacked to see one guy say that Thomas Harris was playing some cruel joke on the reader by writing an ending that didn't make sense!

How many people are reading Hannibal like this, completely missing the resolution to Hannibal's character arc? They must finish the book confused about what it was all about in the first place. So here's how I understand it!

First, I need to get this out of the way: a lot of people hate this scene, and from what I understand it's because they're weirded out by the "breastfeeding kink." Which is fine, but it makes me want to gently hold them by the hand and tell them that it's ok for someone to suck on a nipple. It happens all the time. Sometimes it just feels good, sometimes it's part of a breastfeeding fantasy, and sometimes it's literal breastfeeding. Between consenting adults, this is all fine and normal. Let's all move past this knee-jerk repulsion (or alternatively, sit in our discomfort and expand our horizons) so we can analyze this piece of art together. :)

Next, authors LOVE Freudian psychoanalysis. Even though it's all nonsense, it's full of literary allusion and makes for compelling narratives and character studies (childhood maladjustment, repressed memories, etc), which is basically catnip for a writer. Thomas Harris was no exception, and probably creamed himself (as I did) when he learned that Freud's oral-sadistic stage was also termed the "cannibalistic stage," referring to the time when an infant is growing teeth and begins to bite at the breast--the psychosexual urge to devour and destroy the thing you love. What could be more appropriate for Hannibal?

Next, consider the pattern of Hannibal's Il Mostro murders. He killed young couples in one of the most romantic cities in the world, then arranged them as Chloris and Zephyr from Botticelli's Primavera, exposing Chloris's left breast just like in the painting. In classical art, an exposed breast is often a symbol of fertility. Chloris is associated with spring, new growth, and transformation.

Perhaps, at the time, Hannibal rationalized these murders as retribution for rude behavior. Maybe the couples were performing disgusting PDA. Maybe they were obnoxious tourists on their honeymoons. Either way, it's clear to the reader that Hannibal has some deep-seated hang up about sex and romance.

The particulars of this hang up are open to interpretation, but based on Hannibal's obsession with the rape and transformation of Chloris as well as his embarrassment at the paintings of Leda and the Swan in the German's house, I think it's safe to say that Hannibal feels like any relationship he has with a woman who isn't aware of his true (monstrous) identity would involve a degree of violence/lack of consent. He is forever barred from normal romance.

Having given up on sex/romance, Hannibal is unable to consciously recognize his desire for Clarice, so he sublimates it into a more general familial love. He longs for a return to innocence, to return to the time before he ate Mischa and became an unlovable monster (cue the teacup metaphor).

But even familial love seems like too much to hope for, so he sublimates it further into something that seems more attainable: resurrecting the person whom he loved and devoured, and who loved him in turn (Mischa) through Clarice.

So we have the breast as a symbol of sex/fertility (Chloris/Clarice), as an object that is loved and devoured (Mischa), and as a literal source of sustenance that must be given up during infancy (mommy).

Big brain Clarice connects all these dots and, in the very same style of therapy that Hannibal has been using on her, distills Hannibal's psychological problems into a single poetic gesture that completely fixes Hannibal in an instant, proving that she's not only his intellectual equal, but is, in some ways, his superior.

When Clarice asks, "Did you ever feel that you had to relinquish the breast to Mischa? Did you ever feel you were required to give it up for her?", she's ostensibly asking Hannibal if he's stuck in the oral stage of childhood development (which yeah he probably is). On a deeper level, she's asking Hannibal to consider if he's given up on love.

When Clarice exposes her breast in the same fashion as Chloris, says, "You don’t have to give up this one", and suspends the drop of wine from her nipple, she is shifting his perception of her breast from familial devoured sustenance to a sexual object. Basically, "Why do you want me to pretend I'm your sister when we could be banging?" Hannibal is being aged out of his childlike mindset, not regressing into one.

There are other layers of meaning in this act. The hedonism of using thousand dollar wine for food play is a sign of Clarice's character development. The way Hannibal kneels before Clarice is a position of subservience, but could also be interpreted as devouring Clarice in a way that's new to him. It's the most self-actualized thing Hannibal has done since escaping prison (LOL) and marks the end of his hero's journey (as one of the first things we see him do in Hannibal Rising is nurse).

Personally, I don't read this scene as breastfeeding kink. Yeah, Clarice talks about breastfeeding, but that was more a metaphor for other stuff. Considering the direction of Hannibal's character arc, I understand this scene as him briefly licking the wine off before they have sex. But to each their own! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ANYWAY, yeah, it's unsettling. It's obviously meant to be. But it's beautifully unsettling! Hate it all you want, but this is peak cannibal romance, to me!!

#hannibal meta #hannibal #clarice starling

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best-cosmetics123 · 1 year ago

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Shape Up Breast Enlargement Cream in Pakistan

How To Use

Apply it to your hands

Do massage gently in an upward direction from base to top and then in a circular motion around your breast.

Keep massaging until it dissolves in the skin.

Recommended is to use it twice a day.

Read the guide given in the product packaging for more.

Note: Do not use the nipple area and remove the cream completely before breastfeeding a child.

Shape-up cream review: The response from customers is outstanding, you will definitely recommend it to others once you see the results yourself

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growth-opportunities · 2 months ago

Text

Interventions with the Best of Intentions, pt. 1

[A/N] Hi all! This is sort of my first venture into long-form writing. I was inspired by a brief exchange with @biggerbagingos, so I'm sure he and anyone who follows him already knows where this is headed. Also, heads up, this is gonna deal with some extreme sizes, much bigger than what I usually write about. This is part one of probably three, maybe four if I decide to pad things out. No hard timeline but I hope this gets people excited for the future! Without any further ado...

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The routine was one that Tiffany’s friends now found to be all too familiar. When she got upset, the first thing she did was gather up her long, red hair and throw it over her shoulder. This part was expected take a few seconds as her voluminous hair could be a bit unruly and often fall in front of her pale, freckled face. Once it was done, she took a deep breath, as deep as she possibly could. A second hung in the air, a brief, momentary pause, just holding the breath inside her. Then, she shoved her face into the deep crevice, the ravine, the canyon that was her cleavage and let out a long, muffled scream. It was amusing, though they wouldn’t tell her so, to watch her heave her breasts from beneath far enough to put her head between them, but in this instance, the table she sat at provided a perfect ledge on which to rest her breasts, sparing her arms the herculean lift.

This scream was particularly deep, Valerie silently noted while sipping her bubble tea, sitting across from her buxom friend. The table was on the far edge of a small strip mall, far away from any prying eyes and with virtually no chance of anyone eavesdropping. Between the autumn air and the tea, a slight chill was creeping in. For a moment, Valerie wished she hadn’t cut her dark hair so short, feeling goosebumps spread over her neck. She drew her denim jacket tighter around her slender shoulders, glancing down at her watch. Having known Tiffany since before her gargantuan breasts had even thought about beginning to grow, she knew she could count the number of lung refills like counting the rings of a tree to figure out just how frustrated her friend was. By the time Tiffany finally emerged from her own bosom, her throat burned. Valerie took another sip of her drink, reaching across the table to grab Tiffany’s drink and offer it to her, pushing the straw against Tiffany’s lips.

“Jeez, Tiff. A four? You didn’t even scream that much when you got your homecoming dress.”

Tiffany groaned, pounding her fist against the table, sending a ripple through her bust. She snatched the cup from Valerie’s hand and took a big, angry swig, as angry as one can be when drinking a Cookies ‘n’ Cream milkshake. “That was different.” Though the drink helped, screaming had left her voice hoarse. She lifted her head just far enough to put her arms under her chin, her breasts making for a soft pillow underneath. “At least then I had someone I could yell at instead of just the vague idea of ‘my hormones’ or ‘my genetics’. And, in fairness to her, the seamstress did apologize. I can’t really blame her for not believing the measurements I sent in.” Tiffany blew a puff of air upward, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “This is just…” Tiffany took another deep breath, as if she was about to aim for a five, only to let it out in a defeated sigh. “My fucking tits are already such a hassle, Val. I really don’t know if I can handle them getting much bigger. I’m gonna have to… I don’t know… carry them around in a wheelbarrow or something.”

Valerie let out a quick, wry chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you could find no shortage of guys and probably a good number of girls who would help push!”

Despite herself, Tiffany’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “I’m serious, Val! I really thought I was done growing and now… another growth spurt? My doctor told me I could literally double in size. I can’t even imagine that!” She fished one of her hands out from under her chin and lightly ran it over the upper swell of one of her tits, her oversized hoodie making them seem even softer.

“I’m already past conventional bra sizes, like, significantly. My boobs were big enough to get me out of running in gym class! Some girls are like ‘Ooh, look at me, I can almost fit half a beer bottle between my boobies’ but I could fucking bury a Stanley tumbler with room left over for another. For all of this-“ She smacked the side of her tit, the impact rippling across her bust like a waterbed. “to double? I’d struggle to reach my own nipples, Val! I already kinda do! Fuck, I’d be at least fifty percent tit. Maybe closer to seventy-five. It doesn’t help matters that I’m more suited to be the basketball than to play it.” No one in her family was particularly tall, but the growth and weight of Tiffany’s breasts had kept her at a notably short stature, only reaching five feet when standing on her tiptoes, a dangerous feat considering how front-heavy she was. Her backside had a pleasant curve to it as well, but it was completely overshadowed by the gargantuan bust sloshing in front of her.

Valerie reached out and put her hand on her friend’s elbow, trying her best to be comforting. “Hey, your body is going to do what it’s going to do. No sense in worrying too much. You’ll roll with the punches and, no matter what, you’ve got Ol’ Val sticking by your side.” Tiffany smiled at the nickname, ironic considering that Valerie was exactly one month younger.

Another sigh rolled out between Tiffany’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right! You’re right. I’m still me. I’m more than just my boobs. No matter how big they get, I’m still Tiffany.”

Valerie’s grin took on a mischievous undertone, her brown eyes shining, as she quickly moved around to the other side of the table. She nudged her friend with her elbow, dropping her voice to a low whisper. “And I know that having a pair of big, soft tits isn’t all bad, is it?” Valerie and Tiffany were very close and there were few secrets between the two. Valerie pressed her finger deep into the soft, accepting side of Tiffany’s breast. The busty girl yelped in shock, only getting one or two syllables into asking what Valerie thought she was doing before the words were interrupted by a keening whimper. Blush surged into Tiffany’s cheeks and she once again returned her face to her cleavage, this time in embarrassment and arousal rather than frustration. She made a half-hearted attempt to push Valerie away, but the way her friend wiggled her finger, playing with her breast, made it hard to think. “Hnnngg… V-val… Not here…”

An impish giggle rose from Valerie, only stopping to lean in and give her friend a quick peck on the cheek. “Just wanted to remind you that there are some upsides to these things. Remember that one night when we got drunk and you were fucking begging me so I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and-“

Tiffany shot upright, nearly dragging her tits off the table. Her cheeks ached with blush, close to bruising. “VALERIE!” It was a barely intelligible squeak, but it got the point across, Valerie breaking into laughter. She draped her arm over her friend’s back, rubbing her shoulders.

“Easy, baby. Relax. I’m just teasing. We should probably head over to the book store before it gets too late, yeah? I’ve been waiting weeks for them to get more of the next book in the Amethyst cycle.”

The words went in one of Tiffany’s ears and out of the other without touching anything in between. The busty girl could barely concentrate. All she could think about was how it would feel to have her breasts sucked while being twice as big. She might actually lose her mind. Beneath her sweatshirt, her nipples stiffened and quivered. She swallowed. “H-huh? Oh, yeah, let’s uh… let’s get out of here.” She winced as she stood, feeling her breasts slide along the table, bracing herself for the impact when they finally slipped off the edge and slapped into her torso. The two of them took a few steps towards Valerie’s car (The Val-mobile, as she called it) only for Tiffany to stop, reaching out for her friend’s sleeve. “Hey, uh, you meant what you said, right? About sticking with me no matter how big I get?”

Valerie smiled bright, leaning over to kiss the top of her friend’s head. Their developments had led them in very different directions; Tiffany grew outward while Valerie grew upward, nearly a foot taller than her friend and a modest handful on her chest, though anyone would look small next to Tiffany. “Of course, cutie. I love you. Always have. I’m with you no matter how big you get.”

A hint of panic crept into Tiffany’s voice. “But… But what if they don’t stop? And I’m just a fucking gross titty monster and I can’t even lift them anymore and I take up an entire room with just one of my boobs and-“

Valerie’s warm hands settled on Tiffany’s cheeks, tilting her up to look at her taller, slender friend. “No. Matter. How. Big. Okay? I mean it. You’re my best friend and that’s never, ever going to change.”

Tiffany nodded, letting her eyes close while she took a deep breath to center herself. When she let it out, she looked back up at Valerie. There was silence for a moment, a strange tension between them. Tiffany opened her mouth only to close it again. On her second attempt, she got it.

“M-more like breast friend, am I right?”

Valerie blinked before busting out in laughter. “You’re such a goofball, Jesus. See? Room-filling boobs aren’t going to take away that razor wit. Now, can we go already? I have to know what Iskandar and Alexan will do when they get to Drosenia. I swear to god, if there’s only one bed at that inn, I am going to flip.”

Now it was Tiffany’s turn to laugh. “Only you, Val. Only you.” The two chatted about the series and the improbably tense situations the characters found themselves in as they trudged to the car. No matter how many times she did it, Tiffany had yet to find a way to climb into the passenger seat gracefully, flopping down into the seat and letting her bust wobble on her chest. She was the only one who ever rode in that seat, so Valerie just left the seatbelt extender in place, letting Tiffany buckle it over her vast expanse of tit. She needed the extender even with it slightly inside her cleavage. The sensitivity of her bust reared its head once again as the engine turned over, sending vibrations through her body. As Valerie began to pull out of the parking spot, Tiffany mumbled a slightly embarrassed thanks for her friend’s care and understanding. Valerie didn’t need to reply, simply patting her friend’s thigh as the two hit the road.

The window was cool against Tiffany’s cheek as she stared wistfully out of it. She was still a bit apprehensive about growing – How could she not? – But at least, now, she felt a bit more secure in what the future could hold. As long as she had Valerie, someone to support her and care for her, nothing else mattered. And who knows? Maybe Val was right. Maybe there could be upsides to being so big.

#breast expansion #breast growth #inconvenient size #inconvenient growth #long-form writing #IBI

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ladylooch · 8 months ago

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Farmer Spa - [Mack x David]

The request: Very pregnant Mack and David are on the farm and her bump hinders her ability to do some things. Like trim/shave down there, I imagine she'd usually get waxed every now and then but limited options out there. She's frustrated and feels she needs a lil clean up so asks David to help. At first he makes a few jokes and makes it very known that she doesn't need to clean up down there, especially not for him, encouraging her to embrace the growth and that he is starting to feel what she must when they kiss ☠️. Mack's not quite in the mood for jokes though and lectures him about how her grooming is a self care thing and goddammit she needs his help. He does so and gets a reward afterwards 😉

Word Count: 1.5k

Mackenzie Hischier lays flat on her back in the middle of the bed, spread eagle, naked with her feet resting against the headboard of her and David’s bed. She attempts to gather up the energy for her second shower of the day. Being pregnant in the unrelenting July, Iowa heat has proved to be too much for any type of deodorant she can find at Hy-Vee. She has this distinct unease of smelling awful anytime someone gets near her, including her husband. David insists he doesn’t smell anything, but that isn’t encouraging coming from someone who deals with farm animals and sweaty hockey players all day. He’s likely nose blind to everything after breathing in manure his whole life.

Dragging her big toe across the indents of the plush, cream headboard, Mack huffs out a sigh. Her whole body has a sense of wet, including the forest between her legs that she cannot reach no matter what awkward angles she bends her body in. This tangle of a situation is what makes her feel so unkept these days. She is used to regularly scheduled bikini waxes. Yes, that requires a certain length of hair, but nothing like what she is currently rocking. When she thinks of giving birth in such disarray, she is embarrassed and uncomfortable. However, she has no waxer worthy of seeing her bare crotch within 50 miles of this place. Last summer, it was fine because she could reach. Now, it’s not fine.

“Babe?” She hears David call from the hallway. It must already be lunch time, which means Mack has been laying here for over an hour.

“I’m in here.” She lazily responds. David creeks the door open, getting an eyeful of her naked tits.

“Good gravy, baby. How long have you been like this?” He asks, shutting the door and sneaking in like he’s getting away with something. It is lunch. Mack is sure Felix and the boys are expecting him back relatively quickly. They have a lot to get done this week. “And why didn’t you tell me?” He pouts above her. His large hands settle over her breasts, holding them in place gently. They have been sore this week, so he is careful not to squeeze or pinch anything without her clear approval.

“I’ve been trying to take a shower for an hour.”

“A shower?” He asks, tilting his head down. “We took one this morning.”

“I know. But I’m already stinky.”

“All I smell is your shampoo, baby.” He assures her. He is used to this by now. Mack sighs. “Oh boy.” David murmurs sympathetically. He leans down to smooch her lips. Mack barely puckers hers in response. “Hey, love on me.” He quietly asks.

“I’m not feeling like any of this right now.” She swirls her hand around the room. She moves to get up. David steps back from the bed, releasing her breasts so they fall back into melting mounds. She keeps her back to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Honey, what can I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nah, you have been feeling like this for days. What can I do? I need some way I can support you.”

Silence stretches between them. Mack stares down at her hot pink toes, the ones her husband painted for her last weekend while they were having a lazy day on the front porch, during a stretch of cooler weather. He does things for her. Maybe he would…

“Will you shave me?” Mack blurts.

“Sure, where?” Mack instantly blushes at his agreement. Ope, she didn’t expect him to be so gung-ho immediately.

“Um…” She trails off. “Like.. my um.” David raises an eyebrow at her stammering.

“The place my tongue was earlier?”

“God, David, yes.” She grumbles. He cannot help but laugh at her.

“You’ve got no problem shoving my face deeper into your pussy, but you’re worried about me shaving it?”

“I! Don’t!.. Um. Well that is different.” She huffs.

“Why?” He sits next to her, dragging his finger tips across her bump. They continue down her back, sliding onto her hip to pull her into his body.

“It’s like too intimate.”

“We made a baby together and are married and fuck each other often, so I think it’s okay we have some intimacy.” Mack just stares at him. “What? Unless this is some test and I’m supposed to say you don’t need to shave? Because you know I do not care at all about what you’re sporting down here, baby. I’m gonna eat it. Fur and all.” He quips at the end making Mack want to quite literally die on that bed of embarrassment. Maybe she shouldn’t be, but pregnancy has made her confidence slip a bit and she’s much more self-conscious than she can every remember being. “Just think of if like your equivalent of a mustache.” He throws in as a joke.

“You don’t get it.” Mack snips at him, pushing out of his arms. She scoots across to the other side of the bed, achingly rising to her feet. David watches silently as she heads into their adjoining bathroom. It isn’t long before he joins her.

“We aren’t up for jokes?”

“No.”

“Okay, my bad. I didn’t read the room right.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” She sighs, putting her hair up in a claw clip so she can keep it out of the water spray. David is patient, keeping his hands to himself as she speaks, impressive considering how much her breasts bounce as she moves about. He does bite the corner of his bottom lip for a moment, looking concentrated as his eyes meet hers in the mirror. “I don’t feel like myself at all right now.” She shakes her head, feeling her throat swell with a lump. Stupid hormones! She does not want to cry! “And, I just hate how it looks down there. Like it’s bad enough you see it, but soon so many strangers will too! That makes me want to like.. give birth here and never come back. How am I gonna face the nurses and doctors at the grocery store, knowing what they have seen?”

“Baby, they have seen worse.” He laughs. “I guarantee it. You are hygienic and clean.” She stares at him. “But if this is what you want my help with. I will help you.” Her eyes slide away, bottom lip stuck between her two rows of teeth while deciding.

“How would we do it?”

“A lot like making this baby.” He jokes, shaking her belly slightly. Mack start to laugh and David joins in. “Go lay back on the bed. I’ll take care of the rest.” He leans down to kiss her, then pats her naked butt to encourage her back to bed.

It’s a few minutes before he comes into the bedroom. He has a towel, unscented shaving cream, a razor and an electric trimmer. He glides the towel under Mack’s hips, then kisses her raised knees before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. He comes back with a bowl of warm water and Mack’s cold eye mask.

“Welcome to the Farmer Spa. Please rate us 5 stars on Yelp when your visit is finished. 10% off for you next time.” He drawls in a quiet and serene voice. Mack snorts, laughing so hard her belly tenses and the baby begins to flail around inside of her. She puts a steadying hand on her bump, then watches as David disappears between her legs.

“Do you provide a happy ending here?” She murmurs. David starts to laugh so hard he wheezes. He buries his nose into her calf for a second, then gently works it over his shoulder so he can get in closer to the apex of her thighs.

First up in the trimmer. He carefully combs through, taking down the forest as much as he can to see what he is doing with the razor. He pulls back enough to look at his work, then nods, reaching for something else Mack can’t see.

“Cold.” He warns her after squirting some shaving cream on his fingers. He carefully and meticulously covers the most intimate parts of her.

Mack works her head to the side so she can watch him in the mirror above their dresser. It’s quite the look, David with his head buried between her thighs. She’s seen it before from this angle, but this is so different. She smiles at her reflection, knowing exactly how lucky she is to have this man as her husband and soon-to-be daddy to their son. David turns to the water, shaking off the hair and shaving cream into it. His eyes lift. He meets her gaze and smiles softly.

“Thank you.” She says to their reflection.

“Nothing I wouldn’t do for ya, honey.”

In a few short weeks, he will show Mack how sincerely and eternally he means those words.

#mackdavid au #NHL imagine #hockey writing #hockey fan fiction

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writingsofwesteros · 1 year ago

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Viserys's 1st daughter with Alicent manipulating her way into his heart and becoming his favorite, him doting on her just as much as Rhaenyra. She makes him think she's this sweet girl, but really she's just as bad as Otto, her grandfather's influence strong on her. Her love of the finer things in life and selfish desire to see her own chubby little babies sit the throne led to her hatching a plan. Viserys is visited by his daughter nightly, sometimes in his room as both he and her mother slept, bouncing on his cock and making sure every drop stays in. Other times she drugs him and lets him fuck her all over the room that he plays with his little toys in, the same one she pretends to be so interested in. Nothing makes her cum faster than knowing she was going to get everything she wanted and more.

When she finally becomes pregnant and her father starts questioning her about it furiously, she pretends to cry and act weak. She tells him that sometimes while he's on the milk of the poppy he comes into her room and won't leave until he takes her. Viserys believes her and is appalled by his own behavior, tearing up and shakily moving to hug her. She cries into his shoulder and tells him she never wanted him to know, making him feel guiltier. The only way to make this right is to marry his poor daughter the Valyrian way and hope the kingdom will accept him taking two wives as Aegon the Conqueror had. The only problem is now there's two Targaryen daughter's with scandals staining their names. One had been seen in a pleasure house with her uncle and the other was married to her father after conceiving his bastard. Alicent is furious and refuses to stay in the same room as him anymore, cursing him for ruining their child in such a way.

When they marry, Viserys tells her on their wedding night that they don't have to do anything, especially since they already have proof of their consummation. They strip into their night clothes, hers a sheer pink nightgown that shows off her pregnant belly and swollen tits nicely while wearing no small clothes underneath. She whines to him that they "don't feel comfy" now that she's pregnant. He spoons her from behind, cuddling her close to his chest to keep her "weaker" body warm and comfortable as she carries his child. As he starts to fall asleep, she moves her ass back and grinds it against his cock making him shoot straight to attention. He tries to stop her weakly, but can't when she whines out "I need your help Kepa~" She reaches back and grabs his cock, slotting it between her folds as she grinds her clit against it for a few moments to get herself wetter.

Her hips then begin to rock back smoothly against his, sliding her father’s hard cock between her folds before moving faster. She "mewls" and "begs" him to take her and put himself inside her again, chipping away at his resistance more and more. He tries to stop her, going to grab her hips and accidentally making his way to her swollen baby bump, causing his hips to involuntarily shoot out. She moans louder in reaction to that and gasps accordingly when he suddenly slips inside her, panting as she pretends it's too much, but all that she needed. She puts on a good show as her father fucks her on their wedding night, actually enjoying a bit of it mostly due to her pregnancy hormones. He creams inside her and continue playing with her tits, rolling her nipples as she moaned for real. Her pussy throbs and pulses around his cock, milk running down her side as he sucks on her neck and makes her tip over the edge intensely from his breast ministrations.

Viserys cups her face and makes her kiss him softly, smiling and asking if she liked it. She can only pant as he begins to go again and can finally see a bit of what Aemma must have. The whole time he dicks her down, he makes sure to caress her stomach that protected their young one and reflected their growth. Viserys tries to blame his breeding kink for his attraction to his daughter, along with the new circumstances they're under, but the truth is it shown through with his favoritism of her. He lusted for her, making him extra blind to her manipulations and how the sweet girl was just an act. Viserys should've saw it in the way she turned him against Rhaenyra and filled his days with only her, making him believe she cared for him most. He remains blind throughout her younger life, her pregnancy and even when she gives birth to their son.

She immediately loves her baby boy and cries upon seeing how perfect he turned out. Viserys is enamored by their little one, his first grandson also being his own son exciting him more than it should. As soon as she can, she begins buttering Viserys up and planting the idea to place their son as heir to be a neutral third party to the Rhaenyra vs Aegon showdown. He is a first son afterall, only by her right and not Viserys's. She always makes sure to bring it up after blowjobs, riding him, letting him try out anal, tittyjobs or anytime his head is extra mushy for her. She'll do anything to get her way, and she knows he'll be much warmer towards her idea when hearing the good news of her most recent pregnancy 👑💀

Oopsie, shouldn't be so hot that's for sure.

At least Alicent doesn't need to go to his bed thank you.

Viserys really is so easily to manipulate , he never saw that coming!

#👑💀 anon #the king's deep love

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