#broad broad huge enormous man

[thefrogdalorian]

Din Djarin + Chapter 8: Redemption

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy middle-aged loser Miguel w a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.

He has a huge crush on you even though he knows he shouldn’t but how tf couldn’t he????

With the way you always walk in a minute or two late, making the whole class look at you as you strut in with your quiet “so sorry!” and your cute little outfits that show off the best parts of your body.

Miguel’s eyes would follow you and the way you set down your bag, whipping out your computer, ready to absorb all the knowledge that Prof. O’Hara has to offer like a sponge. He usually has to stand behind his podium because watching you hang onto every single one of his words with those parted, glossy lips and curious eyes made him embarrassingly hard.

Or the way you took notes, your cute little organization of colors and annotations. Your kindness in giving notes to your peers because you wanted to see everyone succeed. Even though you may not have looked like it, you were a smarty pants, too. And he found that extremely hot.

During his lecture, he’ll sometimes catch you applying lip gloss or fixing your hair in your compact mirror and think to himself how gorgeous you are and how lucky your boyfriend that you totally already have is.

Cuz there’s no way he could pull someone like you. Those days are over for him. Plus, you were way out of his league.

But he can’t help but have a sliver of hope every time you leave class with an adorable smile and small wave.

“Thank you so much, Professor O’Hara! Great class today!!”, your praise never ceasing to make him slightly flustered on the inside.

Before you, he totally fucked his own hand like everyday. He’s a lonesome man. But now that you were in his life? That man goes home everyday, imagining his had is your luscious, tight cunt, replaying your cute voice in his head over and over again.

What he has no idea is that his praise has the same effect on you.

Anytime you had a question or were worried that you weren’t understanding a concept, Miguel would comfort you, with the most gentle words and voice.

He was such a cute man. It’d be so easy to praise him and baby him, telling him he’s sooo smart and such a good teacher.

His well-kept black hair w tiny hints of gray throughout, his black rimmed square glasses, his little cashmere sweater + button up combos that hugged around his broad chest, enormous biceps, and pudgy belly. He was sooo dreamy. He made it so hard to focus.

You’d go up to his desk after class needing clarification on a topic. He’d tell you to sit down, eager to help you with the class (or anything ever, he’d do anything for you if it meant keeping you).

His cologne would fill your nose as he bends over the table, a strand of hair falling on his forehead, pushing his glass up his nose as he towers over you as he explains what ever it was you were confused about.

It never helped because you never caught a single word. You were too busy imagining his soft stomach rubbing against your back as he bends you over the table, plowing you while saying those sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

And those veiny, hairy arms and hands wrapped around your waist as he bounces you on his fat cock, making those adorable glasses of his fog up.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re doing great, as always.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.”

“I know, mama, It’s a hard concept to grasp, but you’ll get it. I know it.”

It made you scream on the inside. You wanted so badly to be a good student for him so that he could talk to you this way every single class.

Pt.2 here!

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[anika-ann]

Thirst for Life (As It Is) - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, next-to-zero plot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 3,7k

Summary: You loved him for it; you hated it. You were still coming to terms with it, still learning to accept and believe that he damn-well meant it when he said he would always fight tooth and nail to come back to you.

You’d count your blessings; you celebrated his efforts by being the very home he was to you to him and if you could sooth his pain in any way you knew, as a physical therapist, as his lover, as a human being, you would.

A slice of life kind of fic, a moment of love life of Steve Rogers and his beloved.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, fingering, oral (F rec), allusions to penetrative sex, brief mention of canon typical injuries, briefest allusions to angst, FLUFF, dorks in love

A/N: Super belated entry for Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge hosted by @steviebbboi. Thank you for hosting and congrats again💕 I got inspired by the prompt Aw, does it feel good right here?🤭

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @saradika-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Lips pressing to heated skin; to entice, to sooth the burning.

Fingertips dancing over strained muscles. Body arching into the touch.

A silent blissful keen escaping.

A sinful whisper.

“Aww, is that the spot, love? Does it feel good right there?"

A blatant, wicked tease, rewarded by a breathless curse spilling from parted lips, a soundless complaint.

Unable to help yourself, you giggled, kissing the spot again, earning a grunt – a sound of protest and approval alike.

“Just you wait…” Steve muttered, annoyed and somewhat fond at once, groaning when you pressed with your fingers this time, feeling the tight knot right under his right shoulder blade as if growing thicker to rebel against your care. “And this isn’t funny.”

You licked your lips, biting back to fight another laugh and losing anyway.

“Come on, Steve… it’s a little funny.”

It was a little funny.

Steve Rogers, a mighty supersoldier, all muscle and broadness, filling the space of the large bed. A paragon of strength and justice, shoulders wide enough to carry the weight of the world, his heart a shield for those who needed protection, his shield the heart of the Avengers. A seemingly fearless leader, a strategic mastermind, an excellent fighter; the embodiment of masculinity and power and righteousness and love.

All that and more – brought to its knees by a pulled muscle.

Of course, if it were up to Steve only, he would not even let this slow him down, not in the slightest, let alone bring him down his knees. Oh no.

It was your gentle offer; a soft touch of a hand, a sweet promise, a confession and a plea on your lips.  

“Let me help, love.”

A gaze of mutual affection exchanged; a kiss to his lips to seal the deal with tenderness you knew your might have to abandon if you wanted to help set his body right.

It was a little funny.

The huge hunk of supersoldier muscle, turned into a puddle of a man under your touch. You treated him with as much skill as you would any other client or a patient of yours, if perhaps with a little softer care and with considerably less professionalism.

Obviously, Steve was not your usual client or patient; Steve Rogers was infinitely much more to you. The love radiating from the depth of your heart turned tangible in his proximity; undeniably present in your touch, be it your hands or your lips trying to sooth the pain, be it you straddling his hips which seemed almost absurdly narrow in comparison of the enormity of his shoulders, be it your words of affection or gentle teasing.

Obviously, Steve was not your usual client or patient; most of those who came in specifically with a pulled muscle were there because they had been helping a friend moving furniture, overestimated themselves in a gym, or snapped their head to the side too fast.

Your boyfriend of almost one year, on the other hand, had pulled a muscle when lifting a goddamn car off of someone to whose rescue he had rushed to.

Pressing against the knot, gently but firmly enough to make Steve groan – a sound of complaint bleeding into one of gratitude as you gradually released the pressure – you allowed the piece of information about him having practically lifted a car wash over you again, the astonishment at absurdity and curiosity of life fresh as if it was something entirely new to you.

But it wasn’t. It most definitely wasn’t the first time you had been confronted with this part of who Steve was. It wasn’t the first time you were confronted with how much the serum had enhanced his strength and possibly stubbornness, with what he did for living and how, or with the insistent calling in his very soul to help and serve and be nothing but a profoundly good man. It was hardly the first time and yet you guessed it would never cease to amaze you.

His good heart and his kind soul. His brilliant mind and his incredible body. A man all strong and resilient, but not invincible, not unbreakable.

And perhaps that was where the laugh was coming from – the reason why you couldn’t quite help yourself but tease him, why you couldn’t quite stop giggling.

The relief.

Because Steve Rogers – one of the greatest heroes of your time and the past alike – coming back home with only a pulled muscle was nothing short of a miracle, and this was how your strained body and mind expressed the utter, overwhelming relief coursing your veins.

Because Steve came home. Home to you.

Another day, another save.

Another day he could have caught a knife to his gut or to his neck. Another day he could have caught a bullet an inch from his heart or straight through. Another day he could have been taken and tortured for information or for the twisted fun of hurting Captain America.

None of that had happened.

Instead, it was another day Steve came home to you in one piece. Even if tired and with a pulled muscle.

You’d count your blessings, over and over, more so since you knew how and why he had pulled that muscle; gold of heart and dumb of ass, he couldn’t have waited for someone to come help him, not when the man who had been pinned under a damn car was so clearly and understandably in pain.

Steve’s mind was a brilliant thing, coming up with impenetrable strategies, with a plan B for the plan B and with a plan C and D just in case, carefully predicting outcomes and calculating risks; sometimes he just got bad at math when calculating risks for himself when he couldn’t bear seeing others suffer.

You loved him for it; you hated it. You were still coming to terms with it, still learning to accept and believe that he damn-well meant it when he said he would always fight tooth and nail to come back to you.

You’d count your blessings; you celebrated his efforts by being the very home he was to you to him and if you could sooth his pain in any way you knew, as a physical therapist, as his lover, as a human being, you would.

And he’d let you, even if the first time you had met had certainly not been the case. Not with him having been dragged in, after having his knee busted in a fight, arguing that he did not need anyone’s help, because he was enhanced by the supersoldier serum and his body had always healed on its own. You wouldn’t have it; you had met all the unwilling patients and sceptics. So you took one glance at the man who had literally dragged him in – his best friend, Bucky Barnes, seemingly more exhausted by his attitude than by the fact he had been carrying a significant weight of the huge pile of muscle Steve Rogers was – and then took another look at the man behind the shield himself, before you listed all the muscles, tendons and bones that would have begged him to differ in reaction to such claim.

To this day, you were not quite sure whether it had been your knowledge or your ability to simply not have his attitude that had impressed him more, but later you would find out his attitude was more about him feeling like others needed your help more than him and less about him questioning your field or expertise. That had mattered to you; what mattered also was that Bucky was never going to let you or Steve live your so-called meet-cute down, claiming he knew right away Steve had fallen in love the very second.

So you’d count your blessing and you’d let yourself feel whatever came, and you’d let yourself be consumed by the love with gratitude and thirst for life as it was.

You let yourself laugh again even as Steve grumbled under you, muttering something about maybe deserving it. You appreciated the self-awareness. You appreciated him.

You smiled as you let your hands roam with purpose, warm touch mapping out his pains and still taking moments to caress and indulge in exploring his body, cherishing the beautiful view of the expanse of his back and the feel of his strength yielding to your care with endless trust.

“I feel a little less treated and little more objectified at this point,” he muttered, a smile evident in his voice even before your gaze flickered to his face, now turned to side as he rested his cheek on the back of his hand.

One corner of your lips rose higher, barely a flicker of shame in your chest. You’d never violate a patient or a client like that; but you’d also never miss a chance to feel closer to Steve, miss a chance to touch him, to cherish the contact and to make him feel loved.

“Is there a complaint you’d like to submit, sir?” you questioned, a wide smile setting on your lips as he hummed in disapproval.

Still, you finished the treatment with a last few strokes that were indeed more of a gentle closing than anything else, climbed off of him and pulled the blanket over his naked back to keep the muscles warm.    

He blinked his eyes open as you sat by his side on the bed, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

The second he reached out his hand to hold you, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, making him huff but obediently stop his progress.

“You know the rules, Steve. Stay still for a bit, let the body process. I’ll bring you some fluids.”

He sighed, squinting at you with adorable defiance. “I do know… I don’t have like it. Maybe just a minor complaint then.”

You grinned, leaning closer to him on the pillow, feeling your heart tremble in thorough warmth as he observed you with sleepy intent and a look closest to adoration you had ever seen.

“What’s that, Captain Rogers?” you whispered conspiratorially.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

You relaxed into the mattress, shoulders slumping, heart a second from melting as the lightest and most delightful feeling spread through your veins, a rush so powerful it almost chased tears into your eyes.

To care and be cared for; to love and be loved, so utterly you had never believed it possible until you met Steve Rogers, most certainly the love of your life.

Reaching out, your fingertips lightly caressed his cheek, his eyelids slipping shut; you brushed over the arches of his brows, over the slope of his nose, over his lips – instantly pursing for a light kiss to your fingers – and caressed his scalp, only to meet his gaze again, so tender you felt something inside your soul shift and shudder in pure happiness.

“I know you will when I need it,” you assured him, bringing a ghost of a smile to his face. “And I’m pretty sure that’s the idea. That we’re supposed to be taking care of each other, love.”

A sparkle lit up his tired eyes, his smile turning positively goofy.

“I like that,” he whispered.

“Good,” you said, pressing another kiss to his forehead and climbing to your feet. “Now be a good patient and stay still for a bit, just like everyone else… no matter how special you are to me.”

“Mmm, if you say so… I love you.”

You fought the urge to lie next to him, reminding yourself that if you got him fluids now, you could lie with him and bask in his warmth later and with no interruptions.

“I love you too, Steve.”

By the time you got back, hands clean of the essential oil and full with a mug of tea and a tall glass of water, you found him fast asleep, still on his front, arms hugging his pillow.

Not bothering to fight off your smile this time, you set the mug on the nightstand, tucked the blanket higher to his chin and climbed up to the bed to sit and prop up on the headboard.

You reached for the engagement ring you had taken off for the massage first and put it back where it belonged, and only then for your half-read book, gaze once more flickering to man who had stolen your heart and would never give it back.

Attention divided, you read; but mainly you kept your future husband company, watching over his peaceful and more than deserved sleep.

Because that was what you were supposed to do; watch over each other, look out for one another, and take care of each other.

And in a few months, you’d promise to continue doing that with love for the rest of your lives, swearing so in front of your friends and families.

Lips pressing to heated skin; to entice, to sooth the burning.

Fingertips dancing over strained muscles. Body arching into the touch.

A silent blissful keen escaping.

A sinful whisper.

“Aww, is that the spot, love?” he teased, every syllable dripping off his lips rich and heady like honey, and even with your eyes fluttered shut, you could see his beautifully wicked smile, the spark in his eyes that shone dark, lit alive in a way that was reserved for you; and only for you. “Does it feel good right there?"

You recognized the echo of your own words, Steve’s voice coloured with sweet vindication. He knew exactly what he was doing and he revelled in it; you would protest and complained again if your lips remembered how to speak beyond Steve’s name and breathless pleas. You would protest if you truly wanted to and he would stop in an instant. You would protest if your hands were not literally tied.

Again, unlike your other patients, all Steve had needed was your skilled touch and a good rest. A few hours of sleep, Erskine’s serum working its magic and he had been good to go; perhaps not for another mission, not for a training session, but for repaying your service with love and adoration and desire.

Hugging your middle after waking up, resting his head over your thigh, he had sent a single glance up at you and you had very well forgotten what you had been reading.

He had kissed your palms in thank you, one and then the other, lingering with his gaze and his lips, and you had already been forgetting your own name.

He had pressed a kiss to your wrists, wrapping them in satin like a precious gift, smiling as he had to ruck up the sleeves of his very shirt you had chosen to wear to bed to do so.

He had ghosted his lips over your fingertips as he tied your wrists to the headboard, making sure you rested your hands, the most important asset for your work; conveniently putting your engagement ring on display for him to see at all times while doing so.

He had met your lips in a kiss so sultry you barely caught your breath, before they strayed over every inch of newly revealed skin as he unbuttoned the shirt, lingering in all his and your favourite places, hands roaming, caressing, holding, owning.

You arched against his mouth when he reached his prize, forearm draping over your middle, keeping you grounded as he lifted you towards the stars once, almost for the second time, until his fingers joined to show off his own talented touch and to bring you to the brink of madness.

“Did not quite catch that, sweetheart,” he muttered to the burning skin of your inner thigh, rendering you speechless with his tongue before you could catch your wits and answer. “I suppose I should try again…”

“Steve-“

“Right here, love… give me one more. Let me take care of you… you said you knew I would take care of you when you’d need it, didn’t you? Do you need it now, love?”

Steven Grant Rogers, you little shit- was the thought that flew through your head so fast you couldn’t hope to catch it let alone verbalize it. Not with how your head was beginning to spin when his lips, his hands, his wicked tongue and seemingly innocent filthy talk carried by his deep voice overwhelmed your senses and chased you higher and closer to your peak with every passing torturous second.

“Yes-“ was what actually spilled from your lips breathily, followed by a keen of please.

“Then be good and stay still.”

Steve’s dark mischievous gaze met yours, the erotic sight of him between your legs, wide shoulders barely fitting, with his palm sprawled to your belly and seemingly enjoying himself thoroughly was your undoing, along with things he did and you could not hope to put into words; not when your vision whited out with a cry of his name and wave of numbing bliss washing over you and pulling you under.

You were trying to catch your breath as he let you ride out your high, firm, wet languid kisses pressed to your thighs, your stomach, your breasts with just a graze of teeth to both increase your pleasure and to satisfy the man who loved to get lost in exploring your body and consuming you whole.

When his lips finally met yours again, you did not care you still hadn’t quite earned enough oxygen, whimpering against the demanding kiss as Steve’s fingers curled just to press at the spot again, while he casually rested his weight on his elbow, left hand interlacing his fingers with yours to feel the ring he had slipped on your finger just a few weeks ago.

“Love you so much, sweetheart. Love seeing you like this, so beautiful, so blissed out and so, so mine…” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had been the one to crying out in ecstasy.

“I love you too, Steve.”

Instinctively moving to touch him, to keep him closer, you tugged at the soft fabric around your wrists, huffing in frustration when all you could do was squeeze Steve’s hand tighter.

“Hands, love?” you pleaded, arching your body against his, hovering too high for your taste even when your bare chest brushed his, your body drinking hungrily the heat which his own was radiating. “Want to touch you.”

“Anything for you, love.”

As thoroughly distracting as his lips were, pressing back to yours as he blindly loosened the knots, your hands sprang the moment you were free, sighing as the utter delight at holding onto your lover flooded every cell of your body, fingers raking through his hair, digging into his back to pull his closer to your embrace.

His lips eased the pressure, nose bumping yours, fingertips brushing your cheek tenderly, his smile as sweet as sinful, and when you blinked your eyes open, you couldn’t but bask in the blinding light of adoration shining in Steve’s blown pupils.

“You alright, sweetheart? Can you take more?”

The question nor the concern were new; yet they tasted as lovely as Steve’s smile when he leaned in to kiss you again.

You ran your hand down the lovely expanse of his back, pressing to meet his hardness, a wordless agreement.

“Yes, just… be careful.”

Steve’s lips parted from yours with a wet pop, genuine worry instantly overtaking his features, his weight easing from your body – almost making you regret what you were about to say when he’d inevitably ask-

“Are you hurting? Did I do anything-“

“I’m fine, Stevie…” you assured him, brushing a lose strand away from his forehead, smoothening the crease that formed there, your wildly pounding heart shivering from his tender care for you, his consideration, his willingness to walk away from chasing his own pleasure and just hold you should you wish so for whatever reason.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, his frown only deepening with disapproval as he probably thought you were about to downplay whatever it was that bothered you, what he had done to hurt you or was causing you pain – like Mr. Hypocrite, your softest, biggest love.

“No need to worry, Steve. I just want you to be careful, you know… you might pull a muscle and need medical and fluids after.”

A beat of silence, bated breaths.

And then you were bursting out with laughter at Steve’s scandalized expression, the sound blending into a yelp as he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you to the air. He stood up in a whirlwind of a movement, spinning you until your back hit the wall, blow softened by his palm while his other moved under your bottom, fingers digging to your flesh, pinning you to the hard surface by his hips, his chest, and mainly by his lips crashing against yours, stealing the laughter from you very lungs, drinking your love from the very bottom of your heart.

He nipped at your bottom lip, hips bucking against yours, his voice a sultry promise you couldn’t wait for him to make good on; for all the teasing, you knew that indeed, your Steve would have caring for you at the forefront of his mind. You could feel his love undeniably present in his touch, be it his hands or his lips, be it his words of affection or the gentle, exhilarating threats:

“Oh just you wait, love… we’ll see who’ll need what after I’m done with you… I was so well-taken care of by my future wife, I think I want to start training for our wedding night. And sweetheart,” he whispered, warm breath brushing your ear, “I think it’s time we try to push our record to double digits.”

As a shudder ran down your spine like a livewire, your heart jumping to your throat with how your blissed-out mind scrambled to try to imagine that, you let your body sink into his, counted your blessing, and let yourself feel whatever was about to come.

You let yourself be consumed by love with gratitude and thirst for life as it was.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving feedback.

May November be kind to you💕

[bigmpregnm]

Five-Star Pecs - Part 4

[Story Collection] | [Part 3] [●] [Part 5🔴]

Jack stood frozen by the bed, unable to look anywhere else, carefully observing the head of Steve’s first baby emerging slowly, soon crowning and making Steve grunt.

“Wow, Steve, this is incredible. I mean, an actual baby is coming out of you,” Jack managed to say, still in shock.

“Yeah, incredible is one way to describe it... uugghh,” Steve responded amidst the intensity of the burning sensation in his hole as the first baby was crowning. “Please bring the things I asked for. This baby will be out in no time. Fuck! It burns!”

Steve’s screams took Jack out of his trance, and the nervous guy ran out of the bedroom, leaving Steve alone. With each push, Steve felt the burning sensation getting more intense, and the overall discomfort that had taken over his body also worsened. The babies in his belly intensified their kicking, reminding him there was still a long way to go. Additionally, his pecs were still making a huge mess because the flow of milk coming out of his nipples wasn’t stopping, probably getting stronger instead.

Steve pushed, guided by the instinct of his laboring body. He had seen videos and read articles about childbirth, but even all the information could’ve never prepared him enough to deal with the immense pain he was experiencing. It wasn’t only the contractions making the muscles in his abdomen contract but also the painful way his hole squirmed and stretched to propel the baby into the world.

“Please, please, please, this head feels huge. Uugghh,” Steve managed to mumble as the broadest part of the baby’s head stretched his hole even more. “Just, please, come out already!”

With a strong push, Steve finally felt the head of the baby popping out, along with a gush of fluids, making him feel some relief and joy, even though he knew it was just the beginning of the process. Steve panted heavily as the baby started slowly turning, giving him a few seconds to summon the energy to continue the arduous work of giving birth to his five babies. While the head of his first baby hung free from his body, Steve couldn’t help but think about the night that led him to his current condition.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that,” Steve whispered, rubbing the sides of his still-overpacked belly. “But damn, he was a hot man,” he added, weakly smiling.

“What the fuck?! There’s a head…” Jack shouted as he entered the room again with all the much needed supplies, taking Steve out of his trance. “I mean, yay! What a beautiful baby,” Jack said sarcastically, making Steve chuckle.

“Yes, Sherlock, babies have heads, and I… ooohhh… I think their heads usually come out first,” Steve managed to say as the baby continued turning and the process to free the shoulders started. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Uugghh. I need you to…”

“Shhh… Just push; I think I know what to do. I saw a short video while the water boiled,” Jack said, getting between Steve’s legs and holding the head of the baby with his hands. “Man, you owe me big time for this. It’s gross, but cute.”

“I’ll do anything. Oh, oh, help take these kids out of me, and I’ll do anything!” Steve shouted, feeling his hole stretching more than ever as the baby’s seemingly broad shoulders came out.

Steve clenched his jaw with each contraction, making his best effort to push with all he had to pass the widest part of the baby’s body. As he continued pushing, he absentmindedly tried to curl his body up, attemting to give more strength to the pushes. However, leaning his head forward forced his mouth and nose against his enormously overflowing pecs, making him feel suffocated. His chest was reaching unprecedented levels of fullness, adding another layer of discomfort to his already exhausted body.

Steve felt the first shoulder come out while he took deep breaths before each push. He groaned loudly when the second shoulder finally popped out, making the pain reach its peak. Steve couldn’t see anything beyond the horizon of his big belly, but having the upper part of his baby out of his body allowed him to realize how big the kids in his belly were. This realization took Steve’s mind back to the night of the conception of the babies, and he blamed himself for picking up the biggest guy among the crowd.

“Again, I’m not an expert, but I don’t think this is the average size for a newborn,” Jack said, placing his hand beneath the baby while it slowly continued its way out.

“Blame it on the dad... uugghh... and I’m not talking about me.” Steve pushed his head forward, feeling his belly shake with many kicks as the first baby moved slowly into the world.

“I want to hear that story, and you can’t say no; you owe that to me,” Jack said, chuckling. “Now, this big baby is almost out. Here’s the strong torso. Come on, Steve! You’ve got this! Just a little more!”

“Damn it! Shut up! We’re not at the gym doing sets. Uugghh… You have no idea... how much… this hurts,” Steve said, letting a low groan out as the hips of the baby came out.

“Almost there. It’s a boy and a big boy, I must say,” Jack said, laughing. “No surprise, considering I have your big thing fully hard right before my eyes,” Jack added as the legs of the baby finally slid out of Steve with even more fluids.

“Ohhh my... How is the baby?” Steve asked as he collapsed back onto the mattress, heavily panting and looking exhausted. “Jack! How is my baby?” he asked firmly, awaiting a response.

Immediately, the newborn’s cry echoed in the room as Jack carefully cradled the infant, giving him the required attention. Jack wiped away the residual fluids and gently cleared the airways using a clean napkin. Once the cleaning was over, Jack managed to cut the cord like he had seen on the video and then swaddled the baby in a soft blanket, inspecting his not-so-tiny body in detail. While the baby cried loudly, Jack smiled, shocked by the miracle he had witnessed.

“He’s perfectly fine. You did amazing,” Jack said as he approached Steve with the baby in his arms. “I think he’s super ready to meet his... daddy,” Jack added, carefully placing the newborn in Steve’s arms.

“I’m… Oh, look at this big boy. You’re such a handsome boy. You made me scream in pain, but I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Steve said as tears of joy poured down his cheeks. As soon as the baby boy felt Steve’s arms against his body, the cries stopped, and soft coos replaced them. “You’re perfect.”

Steve leaned forward and kissed the baby’s forehead, making Jack sigh due to the sweet scene. “I think you should give him some milk. Your nipples have been leaking all along, so I think you should put all that milk to good use,” Jack said, gently patting one of Steve’s pecs, making it shoot even more milk into the air like a fountain. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know they were so sensitive.” Jack added, grining,

“You have no idea. I really need some milking, but I think this big boy will help me with that,” Steve said, caressing the newborn’s hands. “Could you help me get more into a sitting position to feed him? I’m sure he’s hungry.”

With Jack’s gentle guidance, Steve adjusted his position, cradling the baby in a way that allowed easy access to his engorged nipples. The baby nuzzled against Steve’s chest, seeking comfort and nourishment, while Jack observed the tender scene with a mixture of admiration and support. In a quiet and peaceful moment, Steve, guided by instinct and a few tips he had picked up, helped the baby to latch onto his engorged nipple.

When the baby took the nipple into his mouth and started sucking and swallowing, Steve couldn’t contain more tears from falling down his cheeks. The soft sound of the baby sucking and swallowing very quickly, due to the rich flow of milk provided by Steve’s pecs, made both guys’ hearts feel warm. Steve’s heart was bursting with happiness due to the incredible feeling of having one of the babies he carried inside his belly for nine months in his arms and being able to provide milk for him, while Jack felt lucky to be the witness of such an extraordinary and cute miracle.

While the baby kept drinking, Steve started feeling some relief on the pec the baby was latching onto, but the other one was feeling plumper than ever, and the pressure was almost unbearable. Steve moved his free hand to his free pec and started softly caressing it in an attempt to feel some relief. Steve was so entranced by the perfect baby suckling on his nipple that he didn’t notice the soft moans escaping his lips.

“Do you… Do you need some help with that?” Jack asked, reaching to touch Steve’s pecs. “I mean, you seem to be in discomfort, and I have two hands if you need a massage,” Jack added, placing his hands on Steve’s free pec, making Steve shake.

“It’s just so full. The baby is helping with the pressure on the other one, but this is getting unbearable,” Steve said between groans as Jack started massaging his enormously plump pec. “I wish I had my pumps here. I really need a milking,” Steve said, chuckling at his absurd situation.

“You’re not only a beached whale but also a dairy cow,” Jack said, laughing and focusing his massage around Steve’s engorged nipple. “Well… I used to visit my grandpa’s farm during the summers, so I think I know a few tricks.”

Jack started rubbing circles around Steve’s areola, making him moan louder. The milk flow started getting more potent, so the pressure within Steve’s pecs decreased. Steve closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of his first baby suckling endlessly on his nipple while Jack massaged his other nipple, and the four babies within his belly started kicking up a storm again. His moans and groans became louder as his breaths shortened.

“Jack… I think… I think... oh, that feels so good, but...” Steve said, enjoying the massage but longing for more at the same time. He also felt the babies in his belly getting restless and pressure building up between his legs. “Please, don’t stop.”

Jack grinned and, without hesitation, got his lips around Steve’s free nipple and started suckling, making the pregnant guy moan even louder. “What… What are you doing?” Steve said between groans as he felt the pressure within his pec finally come down to a manageable level. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” he added as he felt Jack attempting to move off his pec.

Jack continued suckling and swallowing, looking up at Steve’s blushed face. The room was mostly silent, except for the sounds of Jack and the baby suckling and swallowing. Also, some moans escaped Steve’s lips as relief washed over him for a few seconds. However, as the baby and Jack nursed on his pecs, Stece couldn’t ignore the movements within his belly. The pressure on his lower abdomen and hips was worsening as the next baby positioned itself for delivery.

“Jack… Jack! I can feel the next one. I don’t want you to stop, but the next one... aahhh... the next one is coming!” Steve said, screaming as he felt a powerful contraction take over his belly. “Help me get in position.”

Jack finally released Steve’s nipple and playfully kissed his massive pec. “Oh, I think I know how you’re going to pay for ruining my couch and my mattress and for traumatizing me while helping you with this,” Jack said with a grin and helped Steve get into the birthing position again.

“I’ll do anything! But help me take them all out now!” Steve said, and as the second baby entered his birth canal, his belly started contracting even more. “It’s coming. I need to push again,” Steve said as he took deep breaths and started pushing again.

With his first son still nursing on his chest, Steve focused on the intense urge to push to deliver his second baby. With his free hand, he gently caressed the sides of his still-overfilled belly, trying to find some comfort among the indescribable pain he was experiencing. Recognizing Steve’s need for relaxation, Jack reached for the massive, contracting belly and gently rubbed big circles over its surface. The soothing touch helped ease some of the tension and the pain coursing through Steve’s body.

“How are you so good at this?” Steve said as he felt his whole body relaxing thanks to Jack’s massage. “I’d swear you have helped another guy give birth already,” he added, laughing at his own ridiculous situation.

“Oh, yeah. I have at least one delivery a day. Only yesterday, I had another friend who had octuplets, and his pecs flooded the apartment,” Jack responded, playing along to help Steve deal with the pain. “I’m a natural at this. Next time, tell me earlier so I can get ready to help you give birth,” he added, hearing Steve groan loudly.

“Hell no. I’m not doing this ever again,” Steve said, pushing hard and feeling the head of the second baby crowning. “Oh, fuck, it burns! It’s not getting any easier.”

“Yeah, because you’re giving birth to another huge baby. Who knocked you up? A giant?” Jack said, leaving Steve’s belly and focusing on the head of the baby coming out.

Steve couldn’t respond as the head of the baby continued its way out, and the widest part of the head stretched his hole to the limit again. The contractions came like waves of pressure and pain, intensifying and leaving Steve breathless. While he focused on pushing, he didn’t notice the baby on his pec had released his nipple and had fallen asleep with his tummy full of daddy’s milk. The constant flow of milk hadn’t stopped on any of his nipples, growing the wet mess on Jack’s bed.

Then, with a loud groan and a strong push, Steve cleared the head of the second baby, just as big as the first one, letting more fluids fall on Jack’s mattress. Beads of sweat glistened on Steve’s forehead while his belly shined under the light, with sweat and milk covering the surface. The sensations were overwhelming, and on top of it all, the constant kicking in his belly reminded Steve that there were three more babies inside him, waiting for their turn to come out.

With each push, the second baby inched its way into the world. One by one, the shoulders popped out, making Steve shout and cry in pain. He wanted to shout louder, but his paternal side didn’t want to scare the baby sleeping in his arms.

“You’ve got this. This time, it was faster. The baby is halfway out and looks as big as the first one. You really need to tell me who got you into this mess,” Jack said, holding the head and torso of the second baby while Steve kept pushing and groaning in pure agonizing pain.

“Just catch the baby... or pull it by the arms... Just take him out!” Steve pushed and groaned when the hips came out, revealing to a marveling Jack that it was another boy.

With one final push, Steve felt the rest of the baby’s body leave him, allowing him to rest and catch his breath. Incredibly exhausted, Steve leaned back on Jack’s bed while his chest and belly heaved up and down with his breathing. Meanwhile, Jack repeated the procedure he followed with the first baby. As he cleared the airways and cleaned the face from residual fluids, the second baby started crying loudly, making Steve get emotional again at the realization that his second baby was fine.

However, the loud cry woke the first baby up, and he joined the cry. “Shhh. Hey, it’s fine. I’m here. No need to be scared; it’s just your little brother,” Steve said to the baby in his arms while Jack finished the cleaning and cut the cord.

“I wouldn’t say he’s a little brother since he’s just as big as the first one,” Jack said as he approached Steve with the second baby in arms. “Look at this handsome boy, just as cute as the daddy and older brother.” Jack added as he placed the baby in Steve’s free arm.

With both newborns in his arms, Steve kissed their foreheads, and the crying stopped. “You’re so cute and so big. So perfect, my big boys,” Steve said in tears while his sons nuzzled against his pecs. Coos filled the peaceful room as Steve enjoyed the moment and marveled at his newly growing family.

“I guess he’s hungry. Let me help you into the proper position to feed him,” Jack said, helping Steve into a sitting position where he could rest the babies on top of his belly to guide the second one to the engorged nipple. “And let me clean that nipple before he gets it in his mouth because, you know, I...” Jack said, carefully cleaning Steve’s nipple with a wet napkin.

“You inaugurated my nipple before he did,” Steve said, chuckling and moving the baby to his nipple once Jack had finished. “I really owe you big time. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“It’s cool. Your milk is delicious, and... well, I’ll do anything it takes to help you go through this. Seriously, anything. Just say it, and I’ll do it.” Jack said, smiling at Steve and reaching for his big belly to gently rub it.

“You really mean it?” Steve asked, and Jack nodded. “You’ve done so much already, and... I know I might be asking too much, but... There’s something that’s been bothering me all along, Steve said, looking down but only able to see his massive pecs and belly.

“Sure, name it, and I’ll do it,” Jack said with a kind but lustful smile.

In the sitting position, Steve leaned back and spread his legs similarly to the birthing position. He could feel the babies moving and rolling within his belly in preparation for the next birth while under his belly, his hard dick was begging for some attention, and the ache in his balls was reaching unbearable proportions.

“My pecs aren’t the only thing overflowing really often. The hormones drive me crazy, and they get me horny. Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t need some relief down there,” Steve said, leaving Jack in shock for a few seconds, but soon his expression changed into a lustful grin.

...

[gingerbredman1989]

**Creating Prompts for Hyper-Muscular Men: A Step-by-Step Guide**

So, you're ready to create massive, vein-popping, muscle-bound titans? Here’s how you can write the perfect prompt to bring those behemoths to life. It’s all about the **details** and focusing on key aspects of size, muscle definition, and personality. Follow these steps:

### 1. **Start with Basic Descriptions**

   Begin with the person's **age**, **height**, and **weight** to set up a frame of reference for the character's size. For example:

   - **Example**: "A 40-year-old man standing at 6'5'' and weighing 450 lbs."

   These details help anchor the visual and make sure the muscle size is proportionate to the height and weight.

### 2. **Dial Up the Muscle Mass**

   Focus on **specific muscles** and make them **hyper-exaggerated**. Mention how **huge, defined, or vascular** they are. Use terms like “bulging,” “massive,” “shredded,” or “veiny” to bring attention to details.

   - **Example**: "His chest is enormous, with pecs the size of boulders, while his arms are thick and bulging with veins running down his massive biceps."

   **Tip**: Call out different body parts separately (arms, legs, chest, back), and don’t be shy about using over-the-top descriptions.

### 3. **Emphasize Vascularity and Definition**

   People love seeing the **veins and muscle striations**, so make sure you highlight them. Adding details like “skin-tight,” “veins popping,” or “deep muscle separation” will take the visual to the next level.

   - **Example**: "His skin is so tight that every vein is visible, snaking across his chest and arms as his massive muscles flex."

### 4. **Add Personality or Attitude**

   Give your character some flair! Whether they’re smiling, flexing, or standing confidently, describing their **expression** or **pose** adds depth to the image.

   - **Example**: "He stands confidently, smiling as he flexes his gigantic arms, his massive physique casting a shadow around him."

   **Tip**: Throw in details like "flexing to show off," or "grinning as his pecs strain against his shirt."

### 5. **Create a Setting**

   A gym, a stage, or just in front of a mirror—wherever you picture this titan, include the **setting**. This adds context and highlights their size compared to their environment.

   - **Example**: "In the background, you can see gym equipment that looks tiny in comparison to his massive body."

### 6. **Keep it Hyper-Exaggerated**

   Since we’re talking **fantasy-level** muscle size, don’t hold back. **Go big!** Feel free to exaggerate details like “muscles so big they look inhuman,” or “a body that barely fits through doorways.”

### 7. **Example Prompt**

   Here's how it all comes together:

   - "A massively hyper-muscular 45-year-old man standing 6’2” tall and weighing 475 lbs. His biceps are the size of basketballs, and his chest is so broad it strains against his skin-tight shirt. His legs are tree trunks with muscles bulging and veins snaking down. He’s standing confidently in a gym, flexing his gigantic arms while smiling, showing off his superhuman size and vascularity. His traps rise like mountains, and his back is so wide it almost touches the walls."

### 8. **Experiment and Have Fun**

   Try combining different features, playing with size, or even adding unique details like tattoos, unique clothing, or poses. Once you get the hang of it, the sky’s the limit!

[anantaru]

js had this thought, imagine capitano but in his delusion form fucking you man. the thought of it js makes me lose my mind like imagine how huge that shit would be bro

cw. monster[fu]cking, fem! reader + since we don't know how his delusion form would look like, I decided to describe it in my own way (and added horns because I'm a sucker for those).

as a man with an already remarkable size as capitano had ordinarily, his delusion form left no space for any imagination.

he was vast and enormous but there was more than that, a lot more.

drawn with two massive horns that were spiking out of his head, he seemed ethereal and every touch, every lick of his tongue or kiss with his lips was warm, burning and stiffening your muscles.

though his eyes held nothing more than an unilluminated darkness gently fading over his entire irises.

the lust that was consuming him would also mirror his touch on you, more than enough for his breathing alone to fill the room with a heated coil, his stomach glowing with the light amount of sweat embedded over them.

aside from this, you weren't sure how long you'd be able to keep your legs spread like this, after all, he was beckoning you to split them further, please, a little more, just enough so he could drag a couple more inches into you.

your noises might‘ve been his most dearest, how you assured him that yes, "it‘s too much." but no, "don‘t stop." and archons, how easy your words were falling into one another, your cries and whimpers, your tears showing him that it indeed felt amazing, so fucking good it had your state of mind turn into a current of hazy, filthy thoughts.

the next thing you noticed was how heavy it felt inside, how limb you already had gotten or the state your body was currently in, the constant shaking over your muscles to fight the overstimulation or how involuntarily you tightened around him, limbly clasping your weak legs around his broad body.

it wasn't an easy task to keep him in, to gain control over your bracing muscles on your heat, as well as tempering yourself to let the reasonable amount of pain fleet away.

the outrage in it, or how capitano seemed— like he was about to pass out from how hard his cock was, how the rushing blood in it further amplified his helpless state, how feral and absurd to have himself this vulnerable in front of your eyes, for you to see and indulge in.

you're reduced to nothing but trembling as he gently worked his cock head back and forth your hole, his red, swollen tip violently splattering his seed across your pussy.

even though it was merely his pre, it had you drenched and flodded with his warm cum— as you were thinking just how his real load would stuff you full if capitano would keep going like this.

you're trying to be open for him, though failing and he realized, of course he did.

it's how you were turning tighter, or maybe it was him getting bigger, even so, capitano pulled one of his large hands down to your throbbing cunt to place a finger on top of your clit, greedily pushing past the flesh to reach the sensitive jolts.

your hips moved up at the sensing, further when he increasingly rubbed you, ferociously patting and pinching your little clit while he simultaneously drove himself an inch more, so that he was now almost half way in, recognizing your warm walls swallowing him more and more.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[inheritedbelly]

The Weight of a New Life

"Raine… Raine," I said, my voice sounding much deeper, but I assumed it was just because I was still sleepy. "For God's sake, turn to your side! You're snoring so loud, like a tractor! Raine?" I reached out, expecting to find my girlfriend's slender shoulder, but instead, I touched a sweaty, hairy, and broad shoulder. I widened my eyes in shock. Between me and her, the first thing I noticed was a huge, rigid belly. No, a mountain of belly!

"Raine?! What the hell is this?!" I tried to jump up—or at least I attempted to—but my body felt like it weighed a ton. I collapsed back onto the bed, my round belly resting heavily on my legs. My skin looked aged, and my arms were covered in gray hair. As I turned to my side, a body rolled over—it was a man, just as old and big as I was. My mind raced: "Raine?!" It had to be her. The transformation must have happened to both of us. "Raine!" I yelled, my voice hoarse and deep. "We… we’re old men!"

She blinked, still confused, and brought her hands to her face. As soon as she felt the rough beard with her fingers, she quickly pulled her large, calloused hand away. Her tongue brushed against the thick mustache now sitting above her lips. "No!! Nooooo!!!"

She turned to the side, saw my new form, and froze in shock. Horrified, she rolled out of bed, standing up with her hands pressed against the enormous, hairy belly now hanging from her frame.

"What happened to us?!"

I wanted to run to her, to comfort her, but the moment I tried to get up, I realized it was going to be a battle. My legs felt like tree trunks, my back ached as if I’d carried a truck, and the heavy, drooping belly had completely shifted my center of gravity. "We’re… our neighbors?"

That’s when we realized that, somehow, we had become the old neighbors who owned the flower shop in the building. Later, we found a letter explaining everything. They had stolen our bodies and taken over our lives! They ran away before we woke up and told no one in the building where they had gone...

The following weeks were a nightmare. Raine, once a beautiful and refined girl, was now a man named Mario (according to the documents we found) and went into a crisis."Tomas, I look horrible! Look at this, I have a penis, and I can’t even see it because of this huge belly!"

"Welcome to my world, darling! We’re in the same boat," I grumbled. "My name is Alfredo now, apparently, and I have a belly so big it looks like it could swallow a horse whole."

I had to teach things that, honestly, I never thought I’d have to explain to Raine, like how to shave (she cut her face about twenty times) or how to pee like a man. Although, given the way we were now, we could only pee sitting down.

"This is disgusting, Tomas," she yelled as I tried to explain how to clean herself in the shower.

On my end, I was suffering too. Climbing the stairs in this building without an elevator was a challenge. And bending down to pick something off the floor felt like trying to fold a refrigerator. The worst part was showering; my belly was so big I had to lift it just to reach certain parts.

"Can you see your feet? Or have you accepted you’ll never tie your shoes again?" I asked Raine, trying to be funny.

After a few months, we gave up hoping the two would return and undo the swap. But honestly, what sense would it make? Giving up a young life to come back to this heavy one… "So, this is it," Raine said one night while we sat on the couch, shirtless, with her lying on top of me. "You’re not going to leave me? Even now that I’m a hairy, fat man?"

I looked at her — or rather, at him, at Mario. Her eyes, even in a wrinkled and chubby face, were still the eyes of the Raine I loved. I sighed, stroking her belly (she loved that now) "I never wanted to leave you. I still love you, Raine… or should I say Mario! I love you, and honestly, I still find you attractive, even as a 60-year-old man, haha."

She smiled and got up. We tried to kiss, but our bellies collided — it was like a natural airbag.

"I still need to get used to this part," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, I guess we’ll have to adjust. But honestly, it’s not that bad. The two of us, eating whatever we want, not working too hard, living a quiet life," I replied as she — or rather, he — leaned in to kiss me, successfully this time.

[bigmusclenm]

Give or Take - Part 4

[Story Collection] | [Part 3] [●] [Part 5🔵]

Bryce woke up early, as always, but felt different than the previous day. Everything felt strange, but the memories of Mason jerking off and confessing that he wanted to grow even bigger flooded Bryce’s mind immediately. Without opening his eyes, Bryce smiled, remembering how desperate Mason had been to blow a massive load, even though a thick layer of his cum was coating the entire room already. While these memories came to mind, Bryce felt his dick getting hard, making him realize he was naked.

Bryce slowly opened his eyes and became confused for a few seconds when he noticed he wasn’t in his room. He was looking at the ceiling, and even though it was similar to his room, the surface looked dirty and somewhat damp. Then, Bryce remembered all the events from the previous night, especially the sweet moment when Mason asked him to stay the night because he was scared of waking up even bigger.

Bryce remembered Mason jerking off for the millionth time while Bryce caressed the big guy’s messy hair. Bryce remembered Mason looking desperate, and even though Bryce’s lust wanted to give his friend a hand, he resisted the urge to rub the massive 25-inch-long dick he had given Mason. Bryce knew his roommate was worried about the changes, even though he was clearly high on pleasure, so when the offer to stay the night popped up, he decided to be a good friend and show some support to his big—and hot—friend.

Bryce’s body stirred to life as he attempted to stretch like he did every morning. However, he felt a warm, hard wall right next to him, making him smile as he figured out what it was. Bryce sat up and noticed Mason was still asleep, and his body looked magnificent. Even though it had all started as a revenge plan against Mason for gaining some muscle mass, Bryce couldn’t deny that he was enjoying how hot Mason looked. Bryce couldn’t help but sigh as he observed the result of Mason’s request for more size, to which Bryce had been more than happy to oblige.

“Damn, big guy, look at you. You’re a true sight to behold,” Bryce whispered, absentmindedly biting his lower lip with desire. “600 pounds, and it’s all muscle. Fuck... I think I overdid it with the dick,” Bryce added, quietly chuckling.

Mason was spread on his king-size bed like a star, leaving only a narrow space for Bryce but enough for him to fit in. Mason was undoubtedly the most muscular man ever. Bryce felt incredibly lucky to have that big guy right next to him. Mason’s body had grown to unprecedented proportions, giving Bryce so much to see that he didn’t know where to start.

Mason’s face looked angelic, as handsome and cute as ever, but the rest of him was massive. His traps were huge, like small shoulders popping out of his actual shoulders. Mason’s cannon-ball-sized deltoids adorned his insanely broad shoulders, which were easily twice as wide as any regular man. His biceps and triceps were enormous, way bigger than anyone’s head, and looking as hard as a stone. A thick vein adorned both biceps, making them look even hotter. Mason’s forearms were as thick as pro bodybuilders’ biceps, and more veins adorned them, giving Mason an even stronger look.

Even though Mason’s arms were really impressive, Bryce moved his attention to Mason’s chest, drooling and having lustful thoughts about the mountainous pectorals. Mason’s pecs stuck out about six or seven inches from the rest of his torso and looked so full and strong that Bryce could barely resist the urge to massage them. Mason’s nipples had also grown larger and looked somewhat erect. A very horny Bryce daydreamed about licking those delicious-looking nipples, but he decided against it. He was having a hard time accepting that he was attracted to Mason’s new body, but the big guy was too hot to ignore him.

Below Mason’s massive abs, his chiseled abs looked carved into stone. Since his arms were wide open, Mason’s lats spread like wings—enormously thick wings of meat. His midsection remained pretty narrow compared to the rest of his body, but it still looked strong. Every muscle fiber on his body had grown thicker, so Mason’s waist had gained some inches to support the weight of his upper body.

Mason’s lower body was so unbelievably impressive that Bryce felt like having a stroke as he observed Mason’s huge thighs, diamond-looking calves, and the most massive dick and balls ever. Mason’s dick stood hard and tall at 3 feet long and 10 inches in diameter. His bigger-than-basketball balls rested heavily on the mattress between Mason’s massive thighs, looking ready to burst. Again, Bryce felt the urge to reach and touch the dick or the cum-filled balls, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to fall deeper for Mason, so he preferred to look from a safe distance.

As the thought of not getting intimate with Mason crossed his mind, Bryce remembered that he was naked. Mason’s growth captivated him so much that he hadn’t paid much attention to his own body. Bryce looked down to discover how much his body had grown, slowly moving off Mason’s bed. Standing on his feet made Bryce realize that his muscles had grown a lot, but he had lost several inches in height.

“Fuck! I shouldn’t have taken so many inches from that guy on the street,” Bryce whispered when he was on his feet, standing at 5’0” tall.

However, Bryce had gained so much muscle mass that he looked like a short pro bodybuilder. Bryce looked at his pecs, and they weren’t only thick but also pretty heavy, making his nipples point downward. His arms were way thicker than his previous skinny legs. His whole body was the definition of power, except for his short height. Bryce explored his new body with his own hands and finally realized that he was naked because his body had outgrown his clothes during the night.

“Man, that’s so fucking hot. My muscles are so big, but…” Bryce said, looking up at the giant snoring in bed. “I’m not nearly as hot as you, big guy,” Bryce added, grinning with lust.

While Bryce continued exploring his new big—and short—body, Mason started moving in bed, finally waking up. Bryce was excited to see Mason’s reaction to his new body, and his hard-throbbing dick didn’t let him hide his excitement.

As Mason tried to turn, making the whole bed creak, he noticed something was different and opened his eyes wide. Mason attempted to sit up, but he evidently wasn’t used to his new heavier body. For a few seconds, Mason looked like a turtle trying to get on his feet due to the size and weight of his muscles.

“What? What? What the hell is happening?” Mason shouted when he finally sat up and saw at least part of his huge body.

“Hey, calm down. Don’t... don’t get scared,” Bryce said, trying to contain his laughter.

“What? Look at me, and... Wait, why are you... naked?” Mason looked at Bryce from bed, and his massive dick throbbed, making Bryce chuckle.

“Long story. I had some problems with my clothes last night, and... well, you probably know about that,” Bryce said, stepping closer to Mason’s bed.

“What? No! Well, yes, I know how that is, but... Wait, that means you see what’s wrong here? I’m a freaking monster,” Mason replied, trying to get out of bed, but he clearly struggled to get used to his new weight.

“No. No. I mean, you’ve always been a huge guy, so I guess you understand about struggles with clothes, I guess,” Bryce nervously replied.

“You gotta be kidding; I weighed 190 pounds a few days ago. You’ve always been heavier by 70 pounds. Now look at me. Come on, you have to…” Mason said, unaware that Bryce had just grown as well. Then, Mason finally got to the edge of the bed and slowly rose to his full 7’0” height. “...accept there’s something wrong.”

With Mason standing on his feet in front of him, Bryce could finally understand how big his roommate had become. Mason towered over Bryce by two feet and more than doubled the weight and size in the muscle department. Everything in Mason’s body was huge, but it was the three-foot-long dick and the massive balls that caught Bryce’s attention.

“Nothing’s wrong. Okay? You’re a big guy, and... I think you look great. So, I have to go to work now, and you... I think you should go back to bed and relax. I promise we’ll talk about this later,” Bryce said, trying to hide the fact that he was getting horny while looking at Mason’s magnificent body.

Bryce approached Mason, intending to kiss the big guy’s cheek like the day before, but the height difference made it impossible. Bryce kissed Mason’s enormous right pec instead, leaving the big guy speechless and extremely confused. Mason stood in the middle of his room, unable to say a word, while Bryce slowly walked away and went to his own room.

When Mason was alone, he looked down at his body once again, trying to comprehend what was happening to him. His muscles were enormous, and his dick was definitely a sight to behold, but even though he was pretty scared about the sudden growth, an irrational part of his mind couldn’t help but get aroused in an instant. His dick throbbed violently, and a thick glob of pre leaked out of his slit.

Mason looked around, and for a few seconds, he pondered his options. A part of him wanted to go to the hospital to get checked because no one could grow that much naturally. He knew he was for sure the most muscular man that had ever existed, which didn’t sound that bad, but he knew it wasn’t normal. However, as he lifted his arms and flexed his biceps, another glob of pre leaked out of his slit, evidencing he was more aroused than scared. His massive size made him feel powerful.

Mason observed his enormous biceps for a few minutes and then paid close attention to his massive pecs, not seeing much past them. He smiled as he accepted that he had always dreamed about something like this. When Bryce had joined the gym months before, Mason had decided to join as well because it was an opportunity to get Bryce’s attention but also as an opportunity to accomplish what he secretly wanted: to get huge muscles.

“I look good, I feel good, and Bryce likes it. I guess it can’t be that bad if I get big,” Mason whispered while flexing. He had longed for Bryce’s attention for a while, and the kiss was definitely a good sign. “I’ll call in sick again and wait for him to come back. I have to take care of something anyway,” Mason added, moving his hands to his massive dick to caress it.

Mason jumped back into bed, breaking the bed frame due to his weight. The mattress landed on the floor, making the whole room shake. However, with a wide grin, Mason pulled his dick against the valley of his meaty pecs and started rubbing the shaft up and down, synchronizing with him popping his pecs like giving his dick a massage. Pleasuring such a big dick wasn’t easy at all, but Mason had the entire day to find ways to do so, and he also had the best motivation he could get—Bryce’s kiss on his pec.

****

Bryce rushed through the apartment, trying to find something to wear. Part of him wanted to stay and enjoy being close to Mason’s new body, but he also needed to go to work to see the changes in his boss’ and friends’ bodies. The only problem was that Bryce didn’t own clothes big enough to wear with his thicker—but shorter—body. He literally didn’t fit in any of his pants or any of his shirts. While looking for some clothes, Bryce made a quick stop to weigh himself on the scale in the bathroom and was surprised by the number 264.25. The fact that he had nothing to wear wasn’t surprising since he weighed almost twice his previous weight.

The only option Bryce had was to borrow some of Mason’s clothes he found in the dryer. Bryce found an oversized T-shirt and jeans that seemed to be able to handle his size, even though they were way too long for his body. Mason’s T-shirt reached down almost to Bryce’s knees, and the pants were tight and long on him. Even then, he didn’t have more options, so he tried to look as good as possible and rushed out of the apartment. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Bryce heard and felt the ground beneath him shaking and the walls trembling like an earthquake. It happened really fast, so Bryce just continued walking.

On his way to his job, Bryce made a quick stop to fix a few things on his own body. He stopped by a construction site and found ten hunky construction workers who were pretty hot already but could definitely use some adjustments. Bryce knew he had to grow others to grow his own body, so he decided to make those hot construction workers look even better.

The shortest man was about 6’0”, and the tallest was easily 6’6”. Since Bryce’s short height was his main issue, he used his power to give each of these men four extra inches in height. Bryce thought their new height would be helpful in their job, but his motivation was only to get taller by growing others. Doing some quick math, he estimated he would gain 10 inches with what he had given the men at the construction site, which was good enough.

Using his powers to remove the men’s clothes, Bryce could observe their bodies and stats more carefully. Some of them had some measures that caught Bryce’s attention, so he decided to have fun with them. The second shortest, at 6’1”—soon to be 6’5”—had the most delicious-looking bubble butt Bryce had seen. It was so juicy and yet so firm that Bryce’s mouth watered while looking at that man’s ass, so he decided to give him an even bigger ass—about 10 pounds of muscle and fat—to make him look even better.

There was another man, very likely the youngest of them all, who had a 12-inch-long dick with a pretty decent girth. Bryce—a size king—gave this guy’s dick four more inches in length and a whole extra inch in girth. With a dick that big, Bryce thought the guy needed bigger balls, so he gave the guy some seriously-big balls, growing them to approximately soccer-ball-sized.

Another one’s chest caught Bryce’s attention because it looked round and full. The man’s upper body reminded Bryce of Chris Evans’ Captain America, giving him some ideas. He added 20 pounds of muscle and a little bit of fat to the man’s pecs to get them really big and juicy at the same time. He also altered the man’s nipples to get them larger and pointier. Bryce was having lots of fun, but he remembered he had to get to his office to see his friends.

Before leaving the construction site, Bryce added 2 inches to the rest of the men’s dicks, leaving most of them, except for the youngest-looking one, with 8 or 10 inches of dick and giving Bryce’s dick, by his own calculations, about 5.5 inches in length. His motivation was only to grow his own body by growing these men. When he had set all the changes for them, Bryce made a mental note to stop by the construction site the next day to see how they were doing. At that moment, he was more excited about his coworkers than looking at random people on the street.

Sadly, a few minutes later, Bryce arrived at his office and was informed that all his coworkers had called in sick, so the department had been closed at least for the day. The company wanted to inspect and clean the entire department because it was weird that most of the employees, the new supervisor included, had reported experiencing allergic reactions. Bryce contained his laughter while the man informed him that his friends and their boss were sick because he knew what was happening.

Bryce was sad because he wanted to see his friends’ new bodies. He also wanted to mess with their boss’ size again, but he understood that he had changed them too much for them not to get scared. Anyone would freak out and get worried, just like Mason did every morning because the changes were too abrupt. The difference was that Mason clearly enjoyed the changes, and his horny thoughts surpassed his fears or shock.

Bryce had to give a blood sample to a medical team to check if the thing affecting his coworkers had also affected him. Then, they sent him home, and Bryce didn’t hesitate because he had someone very likely waiting for him at the apartment. The memory of Mason’s huge body lying in bed, fully naked, made Bryce’s dick chub up. He still felt strange to feel so attracted to Mason’s body, but he couldn’t deny the big guy had him hooked. His revenge plan against Mason had changed directions, and all Bryce wanted was to get Mason even bigger and enjoy having such a stud so close to him.

When Bryce arrived at the apartment, as soon as he opened the door, he heard Mason moaning loudly, and a bumping sound echoed through the apartment. Bryce immediately remembered his dream where the apartment exploded. However, the sensation was different; the bumping sound wasn’t as loud, and a strange salty smell made it feel very different.

Bryce had left only an hour before, so he knew Mason wasn’t waiting for him, so he tried to be quiet. He approached Mason’s door very slowly but stopped when he noticed something coming out beneath the door. The substance was almost liquid but pretty thick, and the salty smell intensified. Bryce kneeled down and touched the sticky white substance, finally recognizing the texture, the smell, and… the taste.

“This can’t be. I left just an hour ago,” Bryce said, taking some of the creamy substance to his mouth to taste it again. “Damn, why is it so delicious?” Bryce added and chuckled.

Bryce slowly opened the door, and the salty smell hit his nose like a wall. Bryce’s mouth fell to the ground when he saw a pool of white substance covering the entire floor of Mason’s room and some more coating the walls and the ceiling. It looked like the morning after a heavy snowfall, but the room wasn’t cold. The room felt hot instead, and the massive person lying on his back in the middle was the hottest part.

Mason’s body was covered with his own cum, making him look even bigger than he was. He was still on his mattress, rubbing his massive dick, while a strong stream of cum came out of his dick slit. Bryce could see Mason’s balls churning while producing even more cum. Bryce took his shoes off and started walking toward Mason. The big guy was high on pleasure, so he didn’t notice Bryce arriving, but when he did, a broad and goofy smile spread on his face.

“What are you doing here? You should be at work,” Mason said, heavily panting while the stream of cum weakened and his dick slightly deflated. “And… is that my T-shirt?”

“Oh, yeah, this is your T-shirt, and I think it fits me better than it would fit you,” joked Bryce, making Mason laugh. “And we had some issues at work, and they gave me the day off, but... you did all of this in just an hour?” Bryce said, standing right next to Mason’s bed.

“You said I could jerk off, and I did. This one was only round two, but I can’t stop; my balls seem to go crazy every time I think of you,” Mason said, caressing his half-hard dick. “My shirt looks good on you, by the way,” Mason added, making Bryce blush.

“Thanks. Well, you look good, all covered with your own cum. Pretty hot,” Bryce replied.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and suddenly, Mason pulled Bryce by the arm to get him closer. Mason placed Bryce on top of his strong cum-covered torso and pulled Bryce’s head into a long and passionate kiss. Bryce was initially hesitant about the kiss but then embraced Mason’s expression of love, and they started making out. Bryce loved how Mason’s cum-covered lips felt and tasted against his. And after so much denial, he finally accepted that he desired Mason and wanted him with even bigger muscles.

...

[theother456-stories]

The Super Stuffer Challenge

Darren had always been a quiet guy, someone who blended in at 200 pounds — fit enough to seem healthy, but with enough love for food to carry some extra weight. But when he first heard about the Super Stuffer Meal Challenge, something deep inside him stirred. This wasn’t just about food. It was about pushing limits, about testing his endurance. And the whispers about the challenge had only made him more curious.

It was a cold Thursday night when Darren finally worked up the nerve to ask about it. As he approached the counter, his hands were trembling, heart racing. The cashier, a bored-looking kid, raised an eyebrow at him.

“I, uh… I want the Super Stuffer Meal Challenge,” Darren mumbled, his eyes darting to the side, feeling the weight of what he was asking for.

The cashier didn’t reply. Instead, he disappeared into the back, and a few moments later, a huge, broad-shouldered man emerged — the manager. He looked Darren up and down, smirking.

“You sure about that, kid?” the manager said, crossing his beefy arms. “The challenge is no joke. You get one shot each night after closing. You’ve got to eat all the leftover food from the day. If you don’t finish, you come back the next day and start over. You’ll be stuffed to the brim each night until you conquer it.”

Darren swallowed hard, nodding. He wasn’t about to back out now. “Yeah, I’m sure. Let’s do it.”

Day 1: After closing, Darren returned and was taken into the back. The table was loaded with piles of food — burgers, fries, shakes, pies — a mountain of greasy goodness. He hesitated, unsure if he could even make a dent in it, but the thought of the challenge excited him. He could feel a thrill building inside.

The first few bites were delicious, but soon the food kept coming, and his belly began to swell. Darren was pushing himself harder than ever before, shoveling food into his mouth even when he felt like bursting. By the end of the night, he had only eaten a fraction of what was on the table, his belly painfully full and stretched tight. He struggled to his feet, his stomach sticking out far in front of him, and left the restaurant knowing he’d be back the next night.

His weight had already jumped to 220 pounds, but there was no stopping now.

Day 2-4: Darren returned each night, greeted by bigger and bigger piles of food. He felt himself growing, his belly becoming rounder, his arms and legs thickening with each passing day. By day four, he was 400 pounds, his body swollen and heavy. His belly pressed against the table now, pushing into it as he ate, but Darren felt something new — pride.

He could see the way the employees looked at him, impressed by his determination and growing size. His body was transforming, and Darren wasn’t embarrassed. Quite the opposite. He was starting to love the way he looked. Every time he waddled out of the restaurant, his clothes tighter, his stomach fuller, he felt a surge of pride. His once normal-sized frame had grown into something massive, and Darren liked the way he filled every inch of space around him.

Day 5-7: By day five, Darren’s weight had ballooned to 700 pounds. He was a sight to behold, and the employees now wheeled trays of food directly to him. His belly had grown enormous, spilling onto his lap and stretching across the table. Each bite made his stomach swell larger, but Darren didn’t mind. In fact, he relished it.

He could feel the heft of his body with every movement, and it made him smile. His thighs rubbed together, his arms jiggled with every lift of the fork, and his belly had become a vast, round mass that dominated his entire view. He was transforming into the biggest version of himself, and the sense of power that came with it was exhilarating.

By the end of day seven, Darren weighed 1,800 pounds. He was practically immobile, but the pride he felt swelled as much as his belly. He had grown far beyond what he imagined, but the idea of giving up never crossed his mind. He loved seeing the scale groan beneath him, loved how his massive frame filled every booth in the restaurant.

Day 8-9: Darren was closing in on the end of the challenge, and his body was now a testament to excess. At 3,500 pounds, he could no longer walk on his own. The employees helped guide him into the restaurant each night, where he practically engulfed the entire booth. His belly was colossal, a vast expanse of soft flesh that rested on the floor, his arms and legs thick and buried in layers of fat.

Despite his size, Darren’s pride only grew. He adored his massive belly, often running his hands across its surface, feeling the tautness of his stretched skin. He loved how people stared at him in awe, knowing he had conquered something few dared to attempt. Every bite he took, every pound he gained, was a badge of honor.

Day 10: The final night was here. Darren weighed in at a staggering 5 tons, a human mountain of fat. The employees wheeled him in, setting him before the last spread of food. His body had expanded to fill nearly the entire room. His belly, enormous and heavy, rested on the floor, his thighs bulged outward, and his chest swelled with fat. But Darren wasn’t ashamed. He was proud — proud of what he had become, proud of his newfound size.

As the employees placed the final trays in front of him, Darren couldn’t help but grin. His body was massive, glorious in its immensity. He felt powerful, as if he had achieved something remarkable. Each bite was a victory, every chew a testament to his determination. His belly groaned and swelled even larger, but Darren pushed on, loving every moment of it.

When the last bite was finally swallowed, the room erupted in cheers. Darren had done it — he had finished the Super Stuffer Challenge. And as he lay there, his 5-ton body towering over the employees, he couldn’t help but feel immense pride.

He ran his hands across his massive belly, feeling the sheer size of himself, and smiled. He loved every inch of his newfound girth, every roll of fat, every pound he had gained. This was who he was now — the victor of the Super Stuffer Challenge, and he had never felt prouder.

[elmorinn]

C'est le Quasimodo ! 👑

It's been a loooong time since I've read NDDP but only now did I sit down and draw Quasimodo himself <3 he's my second favorite character of the whole novel and one of my favorite book characters, like, ever, so it was only fair to dedicate some art to him.

With this design (???) I tried to follow the description given in the beginning of the novel and this extract was before my eyes the whole drawing process;

... We shall not try to give the reader an idea of that tetrahedral nose, that horseshoe mouth; that little left eye obstructed with a red, bushy, bristling eyebrow, while the right eye disappeared entirely beneath an enormous wart; of those teeth in disarray, broken here and there, like the embattled parapet of a fortress; of that callous lip, upon which one of these teeth encroached, like the tusk of an elephant; of that forked chin; and above all, of the expression spread over the whole; of that mixture of malice, amazement, and sadness ...

... A huge head, bristling with red hair; between his shoulders an enormous hump, a counterpart perceptible in front; a system of thighs and legs so strangely astray that they could touch each other only at the knees, and, viewed from the front, resembled the crescents of two scythes joined by the handles; large feet, monstrous hands; and, with all this deformity, an indescribable and redoubtable air of vigor, agility, and courage ...

... motionless, squat, and almost as broad as he was tall; squared on the base, as a great man says; with his doublet half red, half violet, sown with silver bells ...

(Mean but that's what uncle Vic had to say)

So the design isn't 100% accurate but I'm pretty happy with it :D and we can't forget the "cardboard tiara" and the "derisive robe of the Pope of the Fools" ...

The bottom left Quasimodo is from the 1998 musical which I absolutely adore <3 re-watching it a couple days ago gave me lots of inspiration for this page and other NDDP art I might make...

The tiger on top left is Kenny the Tiger, who at some point was considered "world's ugliest tiger", a claim with which I wholeheartedly disagree, imo he's cute and also he reminded me of Quasimodo :D

This page might be one of my most favorite in this sketchbook so far and I hope the Tumblr People will enjoy it as well :) thank you for reading ^^

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dorothy Must Die!Lion x Scarecrow'sFemAssistant!Reader || Drabble

Plot: What it's like catching the fearsome Lion's attention, becoming his favourite, but also falling under the protection of his good friend.

Warnings: Threatening confession.

*picture there so y'all can see HOW HUGE THIS FUCKEN LION IS- and I assume this picture is from BEFORE he grew big and terrifying.

"And this... "Your boss, Scarecrow, sounds bored as he waives a gloved and straw-filled hand the animal's way, after introducing the Tin Man. "this is my old friend Lion, of course."

Obviously you knew who both of these men (Creatures??) were; you've been appointed the Scarecrow's research assistant for good reason afterall. You knew everything you could learn, and that certainly involved Oz history- in which your new boss, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly (Or not-so-cowardly, any longer) Lion were main figures.

But you let the Scarecrow tell you anyway. Because you're smart, and you know- a man like that? Needs the validation of sharing information others may not be aware of. And you would rather not get on the viscious scientists bad side boss or not.

You give both the Tin Man and the Lion a solemn, respectful nod. "Illuminating to make your acquaintances. I've heard all about your bravery in killing the Wicked Witch of the West by Queen Dorothy's side."

The Tin Man nods respectfully and sensibly back, and he's about to say something as his old metal mouth squeaks open- but the Lion, who's the same height as his two friends on all-fours, cuts in; approaching you and flashing a huge toothy smile down. "Oh, Scare old friend! Where have you been hiding this one?" The Tin Man promptly closes his mouth, a note or irritation in his metal squeal this time, you think. "She's pretty! You're pretty, young lady."

-immediately you go bug-eyed. What?? WHAT?? You're used to the Scarecrow's sensible, monotonous, borderline rude ways; this straight forward compliment is completely foreign to you. Though, you're sure you shouldn't be surprised by his boldness. The Lion is an animal, and animals don't play with subtlty, or pretending. And he is known for his courage these days, you suppose.

"U- um, I- "

"And she smells delicious."

"Wh- "

The Scarecrow cuts you off, with a sigh. "Leave her be, Lion. You're flustering her and I have no use for an emotional research assistant."

"I'm flustering her?" The Lion asks, looking at you with a stern, puzzled look on his face. With a roll of his giant muscled shoulders, he backs up a step. "My apologies."

"No- I- that's okay." You manage, then take a deep breath. "I... take no offence."

Another broad, leonine grin spreads across the big cats maw again. "Oh." Is there a wild, roguish lilt to his grin? Almost a smirk? "Good." He tells you bluntly in that deep voice sounding something like a roar, tail swishing behind him.

~

A few days later, it's the first time you've been allowed a break from thr Scarecrow's dark room's and the smell of death that fills them other then for meals. The Scarecrow wanted to be left alone, so he sent you to do some reading on cerebrospila fluids, and you chose to do so out in the courtyards. In the bright sun, surrounded by the emerald palaces beautiful gardens.

The Lion seemed to have had the same idea, covering a good portion of cobblestones with his large body sprawled lazily out under the warm ray's; dozing. And you keep sneaking glances at him like some silly girl- allowing your mind to skew from your duties and half admire the monster's muscles as well as half wonder to yourself what he meant by saying that you smell 'delicious'.

Does he want to eat you?? You've heard about his enormous, insatiable hunger, as well as how he enjoys his meals to be alive when he eats them. That doesn't sound particularly good, to you.

But... he also called you pretty. And that's throwing you off.

Before too long, you've only been sitting outside for no longer than 10 minutes, the Lion's deep echoing voice fills your eyes like molasses.

A crackly purr like growling sound escapes from deep in his chest as he stretches a little, muscles rippling under his skin, and his eyes gaze over at you half-lidded. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Very nice."

"Come over here, pretty assistant."

You don't have a choice, it's the Lion (The King of the Beasts), and besides if you did try to run he could pounce and catch you in no time at all- so you do the smart thing, and close your book and wander over. When the enormous beast just looks at you, his maw pulling wider in a lazy grin, before nodding with his giant head to a spot next to him, you carefully sit down on the cobblestones with him.

After a moment of the Lion just looking at you, either like you're a prime steak or a masterpiece (maybe both), you take a deep breath. "Are you going to eat me??"

"... I want to. I like you quite a bit; you're pretty. If I could I would keep you and nibble off you for as long as I could- days, weeks, months, even years if you were strong enough. And the Scarecrow would just keep replacing your limbs one by one. You could be my favourite." He allows, looking pleased and impressed by your bravery, a roguish and wild lilt to his gorey, sharp smirk. "... but you're my dear old friend's help, and I wouldn't like to put him on the spot like that."

"... oh."

"Scared, little kitten?"

"I- "

"You shouldn't be." He sighs, adjusting his massive paws in front of him and making himself more comfortable. "Trust me, I spent far too long being a coward and fortune favours the brave. I'm King of the Beasts, now."

... "You have a point." You nod, speaking quietly.

"I do."

"Well... I- I should go." You curse yourself for stuttering, for you're still scared, but the Lion looks reproachfully at you. "The Scarecrow will be expecting me- "

Before you can even move, the Lion leans over and drops his heavy head on your lap with a thud; his snout nuzzling into your hip bone. He gives a content yawn, sounding more like a gentle roar thick with sleepiness. "Not yet... "

That makes your eyes widen wide open and heat fill up your chest, and your neck, and your cheeks. "But- I thought- I thought you didn't wish inconvenience the Scarecrow??"

"He can wait for a little while, pretty Y/N. I need you, now."

[bigmpregnm]

Enjoy the Ride - Part 1

[Story Collection] | [●] [Part 2]

A knot tightened in my stomach while I waited for someone to call me into the office. I was extremely nervous because there were only two possible reasons to be there: I was either getting fired or receiving a raise. Although I was a good worker, I knew I hadn’t done anything remarkable to warrant a raise. To make matters worse, the man waiting for me wasn’t even my immediate boss; he was the boss of my boss’ boss, the freaking CEO of the company. I knew I was in big trouble. I tried to remain calm but couldn’t afford to lose my job. I needed it and was willing to do anything to keep it.

My name is Adam Macci, and at 24 years old, the thought of such a terrifying meeting had me on the verge of tears, even before entering the office. Despite having worked at the company for a year, I knew I still had a lot to learn, which made me feel insecure about the reason for the meeting. Working in the accounting department was incredibly dull, and the pay could have been better, but I wanted to avoid facing unemployment.

As a young, single dad to my 5-year-old son, Marco, losing my job would mean homelessness for us. Marco’s mother left when he was only two months old, and my parents disowned me before he was born, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I was determined to keep my job and provide for my son, and I was ready to beg if it was necessary.

As I waited in the hallway, beads of sweat formed on my forehead, evidence of my extreme anxiety. When I heard the CEO’s secretary calling my name, my heart skipped a few beats. Her earnest gaze as I nervously stood up only made things worse. Each step I took made my legs feel like jelly, threatening to betray me at any moment. I was almost panting in fear.

The sense of horror intensified as I walked into the CEO’s office. The room was huge and luxurious, the kind of someone like me could never even dream of owning. I knew the man was a billionaire, but even then, the entire place made me feel tiny and worthless. The room was far bigger than my entire apartment, and considering I wasn’t that big at 5’8” and 154 pounds, I felt like a mouse entering the domain of a hungry cat.

I took a deep breath and took shaky steps toward a massive desk. Behind it was an enormous chair facing away from me and looking into the most breathtaking view of the city I had ever seen. Despite the chair’s considerable size, I could see the CEO’s strong shoulders popping at the sides, which made me feel even more nervous. I had heard rumors about him being a colossal man, but his frame was broader than I had ever expected. My knowledge of this man was limited, mainly consisting of mere office gossip. The only certainty I had was his last name, Griffin because it adorned the company’s name.

I wasn’t sure if I should sit down, so I remained silent, waiting for him to speak. I couldn’t find the words to express myself as I was on the verge of having a stroke when the chair started turning, and Mr. Griffin’s massive and imposing figure came into view. The man was truly enormous. Even sitting down, he looked tall, and his whole figure was so broad that I felt like a twink. I was terrified by his size, but simultaneously, it amazed me. He smiled at me, and my knees shook.

“Good morning, Adam. Please take a seat. We have some important matters to discuss,” Mr. Griffin said with such a powerful and commanding voice that my entire body trembled.

“T… Thanks, Mr. Griffin. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m…” I nervously started saying as I sat, but he interrupted me.

“You’ve been working for me for nearly a year, correct?” He asked, making me wonder whether I should respond. He then opened a folder and started reading some documents. “You appear to be a trustworthy young man. Your supervisor commends your responsibility and dedication, noting that you work extra hours without getting paid. You have a 5-year-old son who lives with you, yet your file doesn’t mention a partner, making these additional hours a significant sacrifice. You sound like an exemplary employee,” he said, looking at me expectantly.

“Thanks, Mr. Griffin. I always try my best and…” I managed to say before he interrupted me once again.

“The thing is, Adam, nobody is perfect. Everyone has something they hide. For example, Kyle, the guy in the cubicle next to yours, is secretly in a relationship with Jenny, the receptionist. And just so you know, he’s married, and Jenny is unaware of it. Karen, the woman who brought you to my office, has undergone 14 plastic surgeries to look how she looks. Despite her claims that it is natural, I know her surgeon. Have you seen Greg, the janitor? He’s young, and his muscles are bigger than a world class bodybuilder. I suspect he may have serious issues with steroid abuse, although he insists he’s natural. I could continue with more examples because I am well-informed about everyone in this company. That’s why I asked Karen to bring you here, Adam. I wanted you to share your secret with me,” he said, leaning forward on his desk and his voice growing even more intense. Fear gripped me, and I swallowed hard.

“I-I don’t know, Mr. Griffin. Since I started working here, I’ve been honest about everything. Also, you seem to have my file, and everything is there,” I said with a shaky voice, sweating like a pig.

“Okay. I wanted you to tell me the truth without reading it, but as you mentioned, I have your file,” Mr. Griffin said with a smile. I knew he was up to something mean, but I had no idea what it was. “Three months ago, you didn’t come to work for a whole week. You had to deliver some important tax papers that week, and the delay cost me almost a million dollars. Taxes, surcharges, you know how that is. What I need to know here is what was so important that you made me lose almost a million dollars?” he said, and I turned pale. I knew what he was talking about, so I knew I was screwed.

“I was sick, Mr. Griffin. I called my supervisor and explained what was happening. I’m sorry you lost so much money, but I thought they would take care of my pending work,” I explained, almost crying.

“You told him you were sick, but you didn’t explain what it was and didn’t tell him you needed the whole week off. Weeks later, you presented a document where a doctor explained why you needed the whole week off, but I’m confused here, and since I lost money because of it, I need you to explain this to me,” he said, sounding serious and I just wanted to run away.

“It’s… it’s a medical condition, and it’s hard to explain. I honestly don’t like talking about it, but…” I was struggling to talk, and he interrupted me once again.

“Okay. I’ll explain it to you. Your doctor sent a long letter, but I’ll focus on two fascinating details. First, he mentioned you are one of the few known cases of men who have a womb. He detailed some technical stuff, but I understand it’s connected to your rectum and fully functional, which made me wonder about your boy’s mom. I mean, does he even have a mom or?” He looked at my midsection, and I panicked.

“What? No, no. Mr. Griffin, Marco has a mom. She just ran away. I never…” I tried to explain, but he kept talking.

“The other thing that caught my attention was the reason why you took the week off. The doctor said you had intense bleeding caused by a hormonal imbalance during your menstruation. He said this is uncommon because men don’t menstruate that much, but it’s not unheard of. He said this is unlikely to happen again, so you’re perfectly healthy now. Lucky you.” He closed the folder and leaned back on his massive chair, looking devilish. “This whole thing has me very confused. I mean, I lost money because you, a man, had your period?” he said, sounding angry.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Griffin. I didn’t even know I had this condition until the bleeding started, and I never thought you’d lose so much money…” I was almost crying, and he laughed. Somehow, he looked like he was enjoying my fear.

“What matters to me is that you made me lose money, and now I want you to pay it. You will pay for the money you made me lose, one way or another. I could fire you, but that wouldn’t be fun. I could make you work for me without pay until you’ve paid off your debt, but that wouldn’t be fun, either. So, I have an offer for you. I can forget about the money I lost, and you can keep your job and even earn some extra money. How does that sound?” He smiled at me, but it scared me even more because it sounded too good to be true.

He presented me with some papers and a pen. He wanted me to sign whatever those papers said. I realized he had everything planned out, which meant it couldn’t be good for me. I was at Mr. Griffin’s mercy because I couldn’t afford to pay back all that money, and losing my job was not an option. I was willing to do anything to keep my job, and the extra money sounded appealing, but I was afraid because I knew that man had some sinister intentions.

Mr. Griffin explained that he had been looking for the right person to provide him with heirs. The word “heirs” sent shivers down my spine as I understood what Mr. Griffin had in mind. He said that, despite being 40 years old and able to attract any woman he desired, he lacked the time for a committed relationship. Consequently, he decided to have children through surrogacy.

As he handed me the documents, my face turned pale upon seeing the words “Surrogacy Contract” at the top of the page. I glanced up at him, only to be met with the most sinister smile I had ever witnessed. I knew his actions violated numerous labor laws, but he held immense power as a millionaire, while I, a young single father, stood no chance against a man like him.

He said he had done some research about my condition, and upon learning about it, he found out male pregnancy had a 99% chance of producing boys. He proceeded to tell me about several cases of men who had become pregnant before, all of whom had multiple births, which aligned perfectly with his desires. His anger seemed to have dissipated, replaced by excitement. He said I seemed the perfect vessel to carry his heirs, leaving me speechless.

I desperately wanted to escape, but the shock rendered me immobile. Struggling to process Mr. Griffin’s words, I met his gaze as he awaited my response. I was at a loss for what to do. After some hesitation, I placed the contract back on the desk and pushed it away from me. Instead of becoming angry, a broad smile spread across his face, causing a wave of horror to wash over me as I gulped nervously.

He leaned back in his chair again and warned me that if I refused to sign the contract, he would take legal action against me for the million dollars he claimed I had cost him and any additional expenses resulting from my mistake. I froze as he continued telling me how he would make me lose everything if I didn’t sign the contract.

With no other options available, I reluctantly pulled the contract closer and picked up the pen. I knew the situation was illegal, but legality held no weight for someone like Mr. Griffin. He was rich enough to buy the entire city, so I knew I couldn’t beat him in court. I was screwed. Attempting to gain some semblance of control, I tried to read through the extensive ten-page contract. However, fear consumed me so much that I couldn’t comprehend a single word. I was too terrified even to recall my own name.

Mr. Griffin helped me fill out and sign the contract while I tried to hold back my tears. He assured me that he would cover all expenses for Marco and me for the next few months, and he promised that if I fulfilled my part of the agreement, our lives would never be the same. Although confused and frightened, I knew I had to do what was best for Marco, even if I had to carry Mr. Griffin’s children.

Once we had filled out and signed the contract, Mr. Griffin rose from his chair, revealing his full height. Standing approximately 6’6” tall, he towered over me by more than a foot, and I was sure he outweighed me by at least 100 pounds, all of it composed of pure muscle. As he slowly walked around the desk, positioning himself directly before me, I couldn’t take my eyes off his impressive physique.

Not only was he remarkably tall, but his formal dark suit strained against his well-built frame. His broad shoulders, defined chest, and bulging biceps seemed to stretch the fabric of his jacket to its limits. His waist was astonishingly narrow, while his lower body displayed strength. It was undeniably impressive, but what truly caught my attention was the enormous bulge that looked unrealistically full. A small part of me even wondered if he had stuffed something in his pants.

“I already have an appointment for us this coming Saturday. I knew you would sign the contract,” he said with a proud and sinister grin. “The doctor is a friend of mine, and I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to perform the insemination that same day. The sooner you get pregnant, the sooner you’ll pay your debt, and I’ll happily forget about the money. I could even give you a promotion if everything goes as planned,” he added. I absently smiled because that sounded good.

After he briefly explained the contract’s contact, I left Mr. Griffin’s office feeling incredibly confused. I couldn’t believe I had agreed to get pregnant. I was a man, and even though I knew there had been a few cases, people didn’t widely accept male pregnancy. Some people still thought it was a myth, but thanks to the bleeding and my medical appointments, I learned that it was possible.

For the remainder of the day, the impending pregnancy consumed my thoughts. Absent-mindedly, I found myself rubbing my abdomen, contemplating the idea of carrying one or even two babies within me, which made me feel pretty strange. Despite the fear and less-than-ideal circumstances, a part of me was curious about the experience of being pregnant. If I had no other option but to carry Mr. Griffin’s children, I decided to find some joy in the journey.

A few days later, on Saturday, as Mr. Griffin had instructed me, I found myself in the waiting room of a well-known fertility clinic. I had to leave Marco with his nanny, even though Saturdays were our special day together.

As I took a deep breath, I heard Mr. Griffin’s voice as he entered the clinic, and I couldn’t help but gasp at how great he looked. He wore a T-shirt that accentuated his muscles, making them look bigger. His tight-fitting jeans showcased his muscular legs, but his ass and bulge were simply out of this world. Despite knowing he was a bad guy, I felt my dick throbbing as Mr. Griffin approached and smiled at me.

The doctor called us a few minutes later, and I became even more nervous. The doctor already had a file with my detailed information and only conducted general exams on my body to confirm my good health. He palpated my abdomen to ensure I was ready for pregnancy and reassured me that everything looked good. Throughout the process, Mr. Griffin never stopped smiling. Evidently, he was pleased to see his plan unfolding just as he had hoped.

However, Mr. Griffin’s expression changed when the doctor explained that, despite everything being in place for him to inseminate me, he couldn’t do it right away. The doctor stated that I needed to follow his instructions for at least a week to increase the chances of conception on the first attempt. Mr. Griffin wasn’t pleased because he wanted me to get pregnant that day.

While I saw Mr. Griffin trying to convince the doctor to proceed with the procedure, I was in awe of his massive body again. As he grew visibly tense, the veins on his arms thickened, accentuating his size. I couldn’t take my eyes off his lower half, and a wild idea crossed my mind as the doctor continued to refuse.

Eventually, Mr. Griffin gave up and accepted that we would have to wait another week. The doctor left the room, and I noticed Mr. Griffin was mad at him. Since the doctor wouldn’t perform the insemination, the logical thing to do was for me to leave. Instead, I heard myself speaking without even realizing it.

“Mr. Griffin, I know the contract specifies artificial insemination, but… maybe we could do this… the natural way?” I asked, and he looked at me with evident excitement.

“Are you serious? Just to be clear, are you suggesting a change to the contract?” he asked. As I nodded, he smiled, making my dick throb again. “If that’s the case, let’s go to my place,” he happily added.

I willingly followed him to his car, feeling curious but aware that I might’ve been getting into trouble. Despite this, I still wanted to enjoy the ride.

...

[aqua-the-smiter]

I DID IT. I WROTE SOMETHING FOR MERMARY Selkie!Ferrus Manus x Argena Seeva (oc) Argena meets a rather peculiar stranger along the seashore. Ferrus is a selkie bc Scottish Iron Hands make brain go brrr. SFW Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SR7QTKe1D7Q Writer's note, Ferrus's seal form is a leopard seal :3 Divider by @squishyowl

It was the most beautiful singing Argena had ever heard.

The voice was male, and it was unusual to think of a man’s singing as beautiful, but there was no other way she could describe it. It was deep-bass deep-and as clear as sunlit seawater. It was strong and steady, the singer’s voice never wavering or breaking or missing a note.

Once a fair and handsome seal-lord lay his foot upon the sand For to woo the fisher's daughter and to claim her marriage hand. "I have come in from the ocean, I have come in from the sea, And I'll not go to the waves, love, lest ye come along with me."

It split the quiet, late summer air. Her singer wasn’t loud, per say, but it carried easily over the sound of the lapping waves and up the short cliff to where she had been perched on her mare. Quickly, she slid off the bay’s back and tied her reins around a post she had driven into the ground some years before for the purpose. She pushed her way through the long grass and heather to peer over the cliffside, hunkering down to let the long stalks curtain her.

There, among the rocks, far away from the other seals that populated the shore sat a man. He was huge. Even from this distance she could tell he would easily tower over her. His skin was pale and scarred, glistening from the seaspray. His body was all coarse black hair and hard, thick muscle from his broad shoulders to his strong legs. Despite his obvious strength and bulk the way he sat was almost elegant, draped over the stone he was sitting on with the same effortless lounge a seal would. His face looked like it had been chiseled from white mountain rock, as scarred as the rest of him was. His eyes were a bright, oddly metallic silver and his short hair black as shale.

There were two things that stuck out about his appearance, aside from his sheer size and obvious power he exuded. His arms were gloved from the very tips of his fingers to around mid-upper arm in interweaving knotwork tattoos. Clearly done with loving detail, and absurdly intricate. Second, an enormous sealskin cloak rested over his shoulders. It didn’t look like any sealskin she’d ever seen, both big enough to wrap up a draft horse and colored differently. Black or dark gray on the back before shading to a lighter gray on the sides, and dappled with dark spots. The flippers hung down over his chest.

It has nearly as much fur as he does. She thought with a small smile.

She sat for a while, head in her hands, listening to him. No human should have been able to sing so enchantingly. Especially not a man who looked so tough and strong. And rather handsome, now that she studied him for a while. She hoped she was able to keep the ditzy look of pleasure off her face. Such a sweet voice for such a strong man.

"Lord, long have I loved you as a selkie on the foam. "I would gladly go and wed ye and be Lady of your home But I cannot go into the ocean, I cannot go into the sea. I would drown beneath your waves, love, if I went along with ye." "Lady, long have I loved you: I would have you for my wife. I shall stay upon your shoreland though it robs me of my life. I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea, I will stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me."

Wait…

Her head snapped up suddenly as a thought struck her.

The sealskin…his voice. 

No…it couldn’t be, could it? Surely not.

Argena remembered back to when she had been a child, and her father would tell her and her older brother stories before bed. About faeries and elves, kelpies and the nuckelavee. And…selkies. At the end he’d always told them that there had been fantastical creatures once, a very long time ago, but they had shrunk away from the world as men grew more numerous. It was something she kept in mind even now in her adult life. For example, growing increasingly wary of the odd white horse that lived by a deep pond and always seemed to stare at her whenever she walked by. 

Like it knew she wouldn’t fall for that.

“I didn’t think there were any of you left.” She whispered softly.

It took her a moment to realize he stopped. What’s more, he was staring right at her. His piercing silver eyes met her gold ones, and she felt her heart skip. 

“You may as well come down here, if you’re going to sneak around.” He said, sounding none too pleased about it.

Her mouth went dry as she extracted herself and slowly picked her way down the cliff. Her bare feet sinking into the sand and her skirts billowing in the sea breeze. She stopped a few paces away from him, and he sat up, attentive.

“Do you make a habit of spying on others?”

“Do you make a habit of sitting naked in the middle of nowhere?” She asked back, a little annoyed.

His jaw worked for a few moments before he conceded. “Aye, fair enough..

“I come down to this stretch of beach often.” She explained quickly, not wanting things to be even more awkward. “I heard you singing and stopped to listen. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.” She told him earnestly. 

He inhaled sharply, but his stance relaxed. “It’s been a long time since I heard something like that from a mortal.”

“So you’re not human?”

“No. Of course not.” “Ha! I knew it!” Argena crowed triumphantly. “You are a selkie, aren’t you?.”

Then she paused, and held out a hand. Realizing she may have sounded a little rude.

“It’s an honor to meet you. Don’t misunderstand me. I just…I thought you were all gone. I never would have dreamed in a hundred years that I would meet a real one.”

After a moment he accepted the offered handshake. His was huge and engulfed hers. It was warm and slightly damp. The tattoos were even more intricate up close, and covered his palms as well.

I thought you were all gone.

Her words stuck with the selkie for a moment. He had been under the impression that humans largely didn’t believe in anything magical anymore. As new beliefs swept over the land and as they continued to advance. They were relegated to superstition and fairy tales. Some pockets still believed, of course. Some always would. But most didn’t, and even now he still wasn’t sure of how he felt about it. For all his strength and power, he wasn’t fond of being forgotten. It might be better that way.

But he had to admit it was nice to be recognized. 

“Do you have a name?” She remembered something vaguely, about fae names being important.

He didn’t seem to hold the same truth. “Ferrus. And you?” “Argena. Er, you can just call me Gena, please.”

She sat on the rock next to him as he gazed out to sea, deep in thought. It was a little awkward, and she wondered if she’d offended him somehow.

Good job, Gena. You meet a real magical creature and you piss him off within the first five minutes.

The sun was starting to go down, turning the sand golden and making the water shimmer and flash. The light breeze carried the scent of heather and thistle flowers, mingling with that of the salty ocean air, and the sound of the waves and cries of the gulls overhead were making her drowsy. Finally, he spoke.

“We’re still around. We were never gone. It’s just wiser to keep to yourself these days.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him. He sounded oddly melancholy. “So there’s still selkies around?”

“Not just us. There’s still plenty of…I suppose you would call us mythical beasts now. Dragons and faeries and unicorns and kelpies. Albeit many in lesser numbers. But as I said. It’s just wiser to retreat from the world. There will always be places wild and untouched.”

Gena frowned. “Not all humans would mean to harm you.”

Ferrus nodded in agreement. “I believe you. You are right in front of me after all. We have been sitting here for a good while and yet you haven’t asked to touch my sealskin, or reached out for it.”

“I figured that would have been rude even if you weren’t a selkie, seeing as how we’ve just met. And I promise I have no intention of stealing it. If there was even a chance I could overpower you.”

“There is not. But just by that alone I feel that you are at least somewhat trustworthy.”

She flushed, a bit flattered. “Honestly? I’m just in awe to meet you in the first place. I was raised on all the stories and old tales. I would never dream of taking your sealskin. Has…has anyone tried to, in the past?”

His expression darkened. “Once. My brother stole it from me, and hid it so well I couldn’t find it. I don’t know how, some magic or other. I went to all my other brothers and asked them for help, but none of them would. So I beat the truth of that wretched little bastard. Since then, I haven’t spoken to any of them. So I am amused, if nothing else, that a little mortal woman such as yourself has more respect for me and mine than my own family.”

“I, well…you’re welcome." She couldn't imagine having a family that awful. Hers wasn't perfect. They drove her nuts on occasion, what with her brother treating her like a child at times, her younger sister conspiring to make her chores infinitely longer than needed, and her mother dismissing her as a dreamer with her head in the clouds, constantly pestering her to accept a marriage proposal already. But it wasn't all bad in the slightest, and she loved her family. 

"I don't think mine are anywhere near that bad, but they drive me up a wall too sometimes. I have a brother and a sister. How many siblings do you have?"

"18 brothers."

"18?!"

"One of my brothers has a twin. It would've been 17 otherwise."

"You have 18 brothers and nobody helped you?!"

“Twisted, isn’t it?” He gave her a rueful smile. “You’ve been better to me than all of them. The real foot in the nads is that the one who stole my sealskin was my best friend. There used to be times I’d forget we weren’t twins.”

“I assume you never want to speak to him again.”

“I do not.”

They fell silent again, but this time it was a little more congenial. He decided he liked this mortal woman. She was kind, but not flat. There was a spark in her. Very beautiful too, with those bright gold eyes and long wavy black hair. Her skin was fair but not nearly as much as his. And, he noted almost absently, she had a very nice figure.

Ferrus held a section of his sealskin out to her. “You can feel it if you’d like.”

Gena stared at it in surprise before looking back up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’m offering it to you.”

“Ah…alright then.”

She had been curious, and so reached out to brush her hand against it. It didn’t feel at all like she was expecting. It was covered in thick, dense fur. The section he’d offered had been sitting in the sea spray, so it was slick, smooth, and almost oily. It felt nice against her hand, and she stroked it a few times like she was petting it.

“Not what you expected?”

“No, but it feels nice. It’s so smooth too. I bet it’s really comfortable to curl up under.”

That got his first real smile out. “It rather is. The waters I tend to frequent are very cold. Even more so than here.”

“Do you not live around here?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t, for a long time. I may come back though. This is my homeland in a way. I prefer it here over anywhere else, but I wished to disappear for a long while.”

“This would be the first place your family looked?”

No reply this time, but he nodded.

“What else do you know about me?”

“About selkies you mean? Well…” She put a finger to her lower lip as she thought for a moment. “I heard one version of the tale that said you couldn’t be on land past midnight or you would die. But I never thought that made any sense. When would you be able to turn into a human when you took the skin off otherwise?”

“Why indeed?” And she felt a little happy flutter as she saw she’d made him smile again. Ferrus was a rather dour selkie. “What else?”

“I knew about your singing. Although that also varies from story to story. And I know a lot of stories about humans stealing sealskins and forcing the selkie to marry them. I never liked those. And I know that selkies are said to be indistinguishable from real humans underneath, except for all being very good looking.”

“My brothers were all very aware of that little tidbit. They seemed to think I didn’t fit the bill.”

“Well they’re not the ones who you’d want to be attracted to you anyway. They’re your family. For what it’s worth, I think you’re a very handsome man. Er, selkie.”

Ferrus laughed. It sounded vaguely like a seal’s bark, but warm. “You don’t mince words, do you? You’re a very honest woman.”

“Just telling it as I see it. Besides, your family sounds terrible.”

She glanced up at the sky again, before suddenly standing upright. 

“Damn it all! It’s getting late. I should get going so I’m not going home in the dark. Thank you for talking, Ferrus. I’ll never forget it.” Gena gave him a small curtsy.

“...I will be here tomorrow, if you’d like to continue this. Gena.” He offered slowly. It had been a very long time since he’d spoken to anyone. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it. The sound of another voice. Hers was sweet and silvery and calm.

“Wait, really? Sure. I would love to talk with you again. Imagine me befriending a real selkie.” And she laughed with the sheer joyful absurdity of it. 

“Befriend?”

“Why not? I wouldn’t mind being your friend.” She smiled at him, and began making her way up the cliff. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Ferrus.”

“Aye. You as well. Stay safe, Gena.” He called after her. Then she was gone, disappearing over the ledge with a final wave of goodbye.

He lingered on the rock long after the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, pondering what had just happened. It had been…centuries since he’d last actually talked to someone. The last time had been when he’d gotten his sealskin back. He gripped it tighter, pulling the precious thing more around his shoulders. Time had passed by without his notice. And it seemed he’d grown much lonelier than he wanted to admit to himself. His decision had been spur of the moment, but it might be nice to have a companion again.

Pulling his sealskin over himself fully, he finally slid into the water and disappeared into the deep. But he’d be back for sure. Maybe he’d sing the rest of that song for Gena, next time he saw her.

[stevenbasic]

Growing ino the Job, Post 362: That Was Then, This Is Now, p14

<clap clap clap clap!>

<thwap thwap thwap thwap!>

Holy Jesus…holy god…holy f-fuck…

What’s happening!?!

Static crackled around the announcer’s nasal, staccato voice sizzling from my new RCA tabletop radio. 

“Attention! Attention attention! Stay tuned for a special report!”

<clap clap clap clap!>

Despite the alarm in the radio broadcast, my whole world was focused on what was smack-dab in front of me, jiggling in quakes of cheesecake, being slammed with everything I had as I stared at its planetary immensity and held onto its hips for dear life. 

<thwap thwap thwap thwap!>

Melissa’s ass. Melissa’s enormous ass. I was fucking her from behind, the hourglass of her bent doggy-style over my desk, her polka-dotted blue poodle skirts lifted up around her broad woman-hips. 

<clap clap clap clap!>

<clickety-clickety-click!>

<thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap!>

“The women have stormed the Capitol! The scene is chaos! Here in Washington! Hordes of them! Mobs!”

I looked down at us, at where we were joined, and gasped. Her hips dwarfed mine. They were wide, confident with fertility, tremendous, the globes of her ass perhaps greater in mass than my whole torso. My own hips, trying their best to make <smack smack smack> impact appeared meager and thin compared to the birthing behemoths of this woman who - oh god oh god oh god - needed to bend at the knee to allow small me to - oh god oh god oh god - fuck her. 

<clap clap clap clap!>

<clickety-clickety-click!>

<thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap!>

Oh my god! I can't stop! I can't stop!! 

Why am I so small?!?

What’s happened to me?!?!!!!

The radio continued to blare fire, screaming and violence coming from its speaker. The announcer, a man, sounded terrified, his voice nasal and staccato. 

“We are witnessing a historic day! The capitol is being overrun! Men are fleeing! Their feeble attempts to stop the horde are nothing compared to the might of these women! It’s a brutal sight!”

Oh, baby, oh yes, oh Doctor JAY!! Melissa screamed, laughing and cajoling me, looking back now over her shoulder, watching with glee as I tried my best, ramming into her but so overwhelmed and confused by her size that my mouth hung actually agape. Oh what a MAN you are! she cheered, What a man you are to take my big fat ass! C’mon! Show me! Show me what a man you are!!

Lights above us, everything that lit the room, flickered. Shadows grew longer reaching out toward me. The desk,  the very room shook from our exertions causing one of my framed degrees to fall and crack against the floor. The smell of ozone and sex filled the office as the air sizzled with electricity.

Static crackled, a woman’s voice took over the radio. Strong, resonant, stentorian. A speech, a broadcast. Had I heard it before?? This woman? This speech?

“My fellow Americans! Times are changing! Men have been regressing. They are becoming smaller. They are becoming weaker. They can no longer provide for us like they once did. They can no longer provide for themselves. It is clear they need someone to care for them, protect them, and make their decisions. Men can no longer be allowed to act on their own, and therefore as your President I hereby, with the authority of Congress, strip men of all their rights and autonomy. Starting today they are to be declared dependents and will be the sole charge and property of their most significant female relationsh-“

DoctorJay, oh yes Doctor Jay! I don't know how you can take it! How are you still holding back?!  Melissa sang as we continued to fuck,, Don't you want me??

<Hurrrptt>!

I looked down at her, my little hands on her broad hips and oh my god has she gotten bigger?!? 

Aren’t I huge enough for you? Don't my curves OVERWHELM you enough?

<Hurrrpppttcchh>!!

I was losing my grip I was losing control I was stumbling literally and stumbling my feet on tiptoes nearly unable to good god look at the size of my dick in and out and in and out it’s a monster

Flicker. Crackle of static. Electricity, and perfume of some Other. 

<clap clap clap clickety clickety click>  

“The time of men has come to an end. It is time for women to finally and fully take over! Where men have failed? We. Will. Rule! Let today be known, sisters, as the first day of the Matriarchal States of America, and let men shrink, and shrink, and shrink. Let them take their proper place in-“

Oh god I want you in me NOW!! Melissa bellowed with lungs more than human, suddenly straightening her knees telling me to hold on AND LIFTING ME holy god right off my feet! 

In me!! ON ME!

I held on, I clung to her for dear life. I held her hips while my own still tried to fuck her though…oh god…my feet were a foot off the floor dangling uselessly now. She looked back at me and smiled wickedly, her eyes sparkling like arcane gems as she leaned forward lifting them higher.  My face planted against her wide back as my arms sought purchase around her waist like a baby monkey. I am so much smaller than her and-

I want you on me in me, I want to fucking OWN YOU, in my bra, in my pussy my womb, up IN me your whole nnnnNNNNGGGGH!!! 

Darkness, lights. The sun itself outside through the window flickered no flashed no beat like a strobe, like the heartbeat of some titan. 

<clap click clap clickety clap!>

IN ME!!

The other girls are here!

They’ve been here the whole time!  Watching!

They’re surrounding me!!

And they’re HUGE!!

OH MY GOD THEY’RE GIANTS!!

THEY'RE ALL GIANTS!!!

Come on Dr. J show us what a 'man' you are!

That's right pump pump pump those little hips into her!

Show her who’s boss!

IN ME!!

Oh Jesus Christ they're smiling they’re clapping they're watching me… 

You like this little man??? You like holding onto her like that??

He does! Looks at him!

He’s sinking into her!

Oh god oh Dr. J just wait! There’s SO MUCH MORE to come!

<clap clap clap!!>

GET INSIDE ME!!!

HOLD ON!!

no…! I’M SHRINKING I”M SINKING I’M GETting sucked i-in…

Wait what? The lights, they were changing. The air itself was changing

“You’re okay, hold on…hold on…hold on…” she was telling me, urging me to cling to her as I began to jerk and buck into her, my tiny body…but at the same time now in her arms. I was both waking and finally climaxing my weakness into her enormousness. 

Nnngh nnngh nnngh!! Right into her!! She’s fucking HUGE!

Yes yes hold me…hold me…

nnngh…nnngh…nnngh…

The lights stopped flashing and pulsing as I did, even as I came I saw the lights flicker one last time and dim, fade, darkness quickly flowing in from all directions. Was I being pulled into her?  No, no. The dream, which had become a nightmare was ending. 

“Hold on…” I heard her say, from somewhere else, “Hold on Jay, you’re okay…”

============================================

[incorrect-koh-posts]

On the Cultural Afterlives of Salah ad-Din

"Within the broad historical legacy of relations between the people of the Near East and the West—one that in reality is far more complex than these binaries allow—the Sultan Saladin occupies a distinct position: a holy warrior dedicated to the recovery of Jerusalem for Islam, yet a figure to be respected in the West as well.

"Because of his capture of Jerusalem in 1187, Saladin is a hero to the people of Sunni Islam. This is logical enough, but for him to have acquired an attractive profile in the West is much less understandable. As the man who took Christendom’s holiest city he was, initially at least, an object of virulent fear and hatred, an evil harbinger of the apocalypse. Based on his personal qualities of piety, mercy, generosity and justice, the startling transformation from antipathy to admiration began within a few years of the fall of Jerusalem [...]. By the time of European settlement and the colonial era in North America, his image was set in generally positive terms; ideas and attitudes already formed within Europe had moved across the Atlantic. The crusading movement had largely declined by this point and the great Enlightenment thinker Voltaire was scathing in his assessment of it, regarding the crusades as a form of madness and the crusaders themselves as cruel and immoral. But his perception of Saladin, informed by the transformation noted above, meant that the sultan was ‘a good man, a hero and a philosopher’. [...] A plethora of other references in both historical works and popular literature reinforced the sultan’s reputation in all sorts of contemporary literature.

"[...] A romanticised view of Saladin and the crusades (and the medieval period in general) was given a huge boost [...] by the writings of Sir Walter Scott. His novels of the medieval age such as Ivanhoe (1819) and the crusade-focused The Talisman (1825) were enormously successful [...]. The chivalric world so brilliantly created by Scott, in which Saladin featured as a man of sophistication and integrity, certainly sunk deep into American culture. Mark Twain published his Innocents Abroad, or The New Pilgrims’ Progress, an account of his journey to the Mediterranean and the Holy Land, in 1869. The author wrote of the crusaders as chivalric warriors of the days of old, and after visiting the Holy Sepulchre Twain drew parallels between medieval times and the more recent Crimean War (1853–6). He also visited the site of the sultan’s great victory in the Battle of Hattin. Yet, in spite of Twain’s fierce hostility and disdain towards the Arabs and Turks, the ‘princely courtesy’ of the ‘peerless Saladin’ survived his scathing pen.

"[...] In broader popular culture, cinema brought Saladin to a far bigger audience. Cecil B. DeMille’s 1935 epic, The Crusades, blended a post–World War I wish to avoid conflict with a strong dose of Sir Walter Scott and major cultural stereotyping of the people of the Near East. [...] DeMille wrote that his aim was ‘to bring out Saracens that were not barbarians, but a highly cultivated people, and their great leader Saladin as perfect and gentle a knight as any in Christendom’.

"In 1955 the book The Talisman was openly pressed into service to make the film King Richard and the Crusaders. [...] [H]ere Saladin is an exotic figure drawn to Lady Edith, who hopes that love can cross the boundaries of religious war and that she can persuade the sultan of the virtues of Christianity. Saladin (played by Rex Harrison) is said to know the geography of a female like the palm of his hand, and so obvious is his allure to Edith that her Western admirer explodes in fury at ‘that silky son of Satan!’ The sultan is, inevitably, courteous enough to stand to one side and let his jealous rival escort Edith away. He is also, however, brave, wise and noble, characteristics that can survive the Orientalist caricature [...].

"While we frequently use the word ‘crusade’ in its secularised sense as a good cause, or else associate it with events from the distant medieval past, there is a manifest need to understand how its meaning has remained potent in the Near East and to be aware that in this context it is a much more loaded term. Woven in with this, Saladin has long held a prominent position in the Arab and Muslim worlds as the man who drew together the region and defeated Westerners. His status as an attractive character to emulate and to rally around adds considerable lustre to this. [B]ut [...] he was far from perfect, attracting hostility from some contemporaries for his dynastic empire building and his periodic conflicts with other Sunnis. In the way that past heroes of a Western society can be attacked for what we now consider unattractive attitudes or political failings, some in the modern world can criticise Saladin—notably, the Shi’ites, because he ended their caliphate in Cairo 1171. This important point aside, for the Sunnis, Saladin stands as symbol of success, as a figure both aspirational and inspiring. His centuries-long status as a hero and the fact that he became so admired by his Western enemies, opponents across linguistic and cultural boundaries, also stand out. [...] He stands as a cultural ‘given’, not simply to be used by dictators and in situations of conflict, but to stand as a positive reference point in everyday life."

- Jonathan Phillips, The Life and Legend of the Sultan Saladin. Yale University Press, 2019, pp. ix-xxiv

[kemch122]

It was my first day at the gym. I felt uneasy, a little intimidated, surrounded by people with massive muscles who seemed to know exactly what they were doing. I just stood by the door, trying to gather the courage to go in, when I saw him.

He walked in, and everything else around me faded. He was possibly the most muscular man I had ever seen. He was only wearing dark blue pants that hugged his legs, every part of his massive quads and calves. His upper body was completely bare, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

His chest was like a wall of stone—solid, massive, and incredibly wide. With each breath, his muscles rose and fell, like he was some sort of giant machine. His biceps and triceps looked like two huge balls of muscle that bulged under his skin, with every vein visible. His shoulders were broad, massive, like two solid rocks. It was like watching a living sculpture of strength.

I watched him as he moved to the dumbbells. His steps were steady, confident, and every movement showed that this guy knew exactly what he was doing. He picked up the heaviest weights in the room and lifted them effortlessly, making me question if I was really seeing this. With each repetition, I watched his muscles flex and release. His biceps grew into massive balls, tightly flexed, like iron pillars under tension.

I was so mesmerized that I didn’t even notice when he caught me staring. “First time at the gym?” he smiled, and his voice was deep and confident.

“Yeah… I guess so,” I replied, trying not to look completely overwhelmed, but I couldn't hide it. “Dude, how do you even do that? You look like you stepped out of a dream or… like some kind of superhero.”

He laughed and shrugged, making his already massive shoulders look even bigger. “It’s a lot of hard work, man. Every day, year after year. And always remember—never skip leg day,” he added with a grin and tapped his massive quads, which looked like they could support an entire building.

“Can I… can I touch you? I want to feel how hard those muscles really are,” I asked before realizing how bold the question was.

He looked at me with a bit of amusement, then nodded. “Sure, man. Touch wherever you want,” he said, spreading his arms to give me space.

I reached out carefully and touched his bicep. Under my fingers, I felt incredible firmness, like he was carved from stone. He flexed, and his bicep grew even bigger, pulsing under my hand, feeling unreal. “Damn, that’s really solid,” I breathed, amazed.

“And that’s just the beginning,” he said with a grin, tapping his chest. “Try it here.”

I placed my hand on his chest, which was enormous and firm, like a fortress. With each breath he took, his chest rose, lifting my hand. His chest wasn’t just massive; it was veined and hard, as I could feel under my fingers.

“This takes real dedication. Every day pushing weights, feeling the pain, but knowing it’s worth it,” he explained as I ran my fingers over his chest, watching his muscles tense and relax with each word.

“What about your shoulders?” I asked, unable to resist the sight of his huge, broad shoulder muscles.

“Sure, go ahead,” he encouraged, turning so I could feel. As I ran my hand over his shoulder, I realized how massive those muscles were. Every movement showcased the immense power he had built into his body. His shoulders were like rocks, solid and unyielding, reminding me of two mighty towers of strength.

“Wow, this… this is insane,” I admitted in awe.

“Just wait until you feel the quads,” he added with a playful look and stood so I could admire his legs. I crouched down and gently ran my hand over his huge thigh. I could feel every muscle, every tendon. His legs were like two massive pillars, firm, veined, and completely indestructible.

When I finally finished admiring every part of his body, my head was spinning with amazement. “I could never have imagined anything like this,” I said as I stood up and looked at his massive physique again.

He smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. “See, man? It’s all about discipline. Anyone can achieve this if they work hard enough.”

I pulled out my phone and said, “Can I take a photo? I need to remember this.”

He smiled and stood in front of the mirror. “Sure, man. Just make it a good shot—it’s gotta look awesome.”

Smiling, I raised my phone, aimed, and took the shot. On the screen, I saw his massive body—every muscle, every tendon, every detail he had just shown me. He looked like a living statue, a monument to strength and discipline.

When I lowered the phone, he looked at me thoughtfully. “Hey, if this really impressed you, how about I show you some tips? I’d be happy to help you reach your potential.”

My eyes lit up. “That would be amazing!”

“Then it’s a deal,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder again. “Let’s see what we can turn you into. Maybe soon, you’ll have some photos of your own.”

And so, I left the gym knowing I’d found not just inspiration, but someone who would guide me on my own journey toward strength and dedication.