#cw inflation

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 19: Four Seasons Landscaping

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: dubcon; noncon; tentacles; cumflation; plant-fucking; creampie;

A/N: Apologies if this one feels rushed. It is. Today's been remarkably busy for a Sunday so I bashed this one out quick. I left the CWs on for dubcon and noncon because fem!reader isn't into it at first, even if she gets into it pretty fast. Read at your own discretion, but this is much nicer than yesterday's

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Another day, another job. You checked your docket, this sure was the address. You sighed heavily, was this another case of them giving the only woman at the firm the shitty job again, or did someone seriously see the half acre of bramble and overgrown hedges and call it "light weeding"

You may never know

First off was the perimeter hedge, where it overhung the street. Your trimmers made short work of the overhang, even if you did need the long ladder to get to the top of them. Whoever owned this plot really liked their privacy to have planted ten-foot hedges around the entire property line. You weren't sure how the neighbours felt about it, but you're only being paid for the street-side so you couldn't care less.

At least the pavement was clear now, and working inside such a private plot really limits how much randos from the street can catcall you. That's one plus, at least.

The docket specified no weedkillers, so you can't just put on a rubber suit and salt the earth with glyphosate and a cocktail of other chemicals adorned with fun-looking warning triangles. You pulled on your overalls and stocked your toolbelt with an array of trowels, secateurs, shears, forks, strimmer wire, a trusty multitool, and a pair of heavier gloves, just in case. Armed with the tools of your profession, girded in denim dungarees, safety specs, and ear defenders, you started your mechanised assault on the wilderness.

You cut your path into the tangle of weeds and vines. Foliage piled high upon itself on wither side of you as you hacked inwards. You wondered if a machete would be a better tool when you remembered: you actually have one in the van! You'd been given it as a joke when you started, but a quirk of the law let you keep it around so it lived in a cubby in the centre console. You turned to make your way back.

Your path had closed behind you. The piles of plant matter leaning on each other and blocking your way. You shrugged and revved your strimmer. Cutting out should be as easy as cutting in.

In theory.

As soon as the wire hit the brambles, it snarled up. You heard the engine struggle, then stall entirely. Damn. You couldn't pull the machine free. The secateurs came out, and you leant down to cut it out.

Big mistake.

You hadn't noticed the vines that had wrapped themselves around your ankles when you turned, and tripped, falling into a bank of thorny vines. You felt the brambles piercing your gloves and long sleeves. Your hands wouldn't pull free. Your legs were rooted to the ground. You struggled against your bonds, thorns biting deeper with every movement.

You start to panic.

Plants don't act like this.

Plants don't do this.

You felt the briars start to pull at your ankles. Plant's definitely don't do this. You called out as you watched the entrance recede from you as you were hauled over the cutting barbs, deeper into the tangle.

Nobody came.

The vines were pulling you on, you could tell you were going downhill, though the plot should be level. A sinkhole perhaps? It didn't matter, down you went. You craned your neck to look behind you. Trying to get a glimpse of where you were going. That's when you saw it.

A flower. Huge and angry pink. You were going straight towards it.

You felt the petals close around your waist. Your hands were free now, but you couldn't wriggle them between your flesh and the opening of the plant. Each ankle was being pulled a different direction, holding you spreadeagled within the plant. You felt something strange within the flower, like your clothes being moved around on you. Something was... rubbing your legs? For some reason your skin felt wet

Wait

Those overalls were waxed. Waterproof. Nothing should be getting on your skin unless... Oh shit.

Your clothes are being digested. The plant must be carnivorous, which made sense, why else would it have vines that drag you into it? It didn't hurt though, which was strange. Whatever the plant was using to so rapidly eat away at your clothing didn't seem to damage your skin, or even sting when it hit the scratches the vines were still leaving on you.

Something pushed up what was left of your trouser leg, tearing the weakened material away from you, leaving you almost completely bare inside the bell of the plant. Next came your underwear, the thin cotton didn't offer any resistance to the digestive juices daubed on it. Now those same tendrils were painting your bare crotch. You felt your cheeks flush with arousal, this plant felt pretty good. The tendrils kept going, lubricating you and running between the lips of your cunt, as though a lover tenderly licking you up and down.

Every stroke caught your clit, your hole, your ass, first one way, then the other. Your breathing was getting heavier as the rubbing edged you closer and closer. Your hands strayed to your tits, cupping and squeezing as you rolled your head back, delighting in the sensations until you reached your peak, crying out as your release simmered over you.

Another tendril was pressing against you now. This one was moving with more purpose, pressing against your pussy until it entered your well-lubricated hole. You whined as it filled you, anticipating another orgasm as it started to thrust in and out, worming around and stretching you out. The insistent thrusting and continued attentions on your clit drove you to another screaming finish before you felt a hot, thick liquid filling you up. More and more it pumped into you, your womb ached with the amount and you could feel your belly bloating, growing large and round with the sheer volume of the stuff.

As quickly as it began, it pulled away. The vines loosened from your ankles and the flower released you, leaving you to cut away the last tangled pieces of vine from you and start the slow climb out, leaking a thick golden sap from your cunt as you dragged yourself uphill.

It took you over an hour to get back up to your strimmer, which you cut out and dragged behind you as you wobbled back into the van. By some miracle, your toolbelt was still largely unharmed, and everything that was on it before was still there. Along with, tucked into one of the thick, heavy-duty gloves, the end of a vine.

You're no botanist, but you know how to propagate a plant.

[miasmaghoul]

Scenario: Aether filling Dewdrop with cum and plugging him up every time until he's visibly inflated and makes him go about his day like that

oh noooo his flat lil tummy would be just a little round and he'd be so full and everyone would touch him there and he would feel so w e i r d :((((((((

yeah im into it

HATE | No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

[lunaexistslmao]

[apricorns-n-ribbons]

Oh, Guardians. Climate change is really something, alright.

With these changing temperatures apricorn production has been out of whack recently. The growing seasons are all off, there are now more hungry bug types active during their growing season and their range has shifted due to changes in temperature. Some of my closest providers have decided to just not bother with apricorns anymore and even prestigious apricorn farms up in the dry and cold Sinnoh have had a lot of duds in their latest harvests.

This is absolutely awful. If the climate itself doesn’t end with apriball making, the rising prices sure will.

[weiner-does-preg]

Rapid preg animation

[cloud-kaiju]

Doing some Question and Answers for fun!

Next, my favorite inflatable gal, the big were-salamander Sally!

[squeakwave]

o o

[grimmweepers]

the way my boobs are bouncing in this rocky car ride rn

[otter-pup]

i want to be cumflated by a werewolf really bad rn, want to be knotted and stuck on their cock as they pump me full of their seed and force my belly to stretch until I look overdue with twins, maybe even more

[seventeenshitpiles]

BANDETTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[weiner-does-preg]

What’s Kata’s tummy capacity?

Not very big! Even if she’d love pounds of baby in her belly she can’t handle it

[swellcolm]

old-ish art dump

[jos-reblog-emporium]

I think no leaking for at least first 2 hours after you start your hold. If you do, try to do it into a towel, and you need to drink 200ml more than what you think you peed out

-🦊

Ooo that sounds like fun! No leaking is so hard. But only being allowed to pee on a towel is so interesting. I haven't done a lot of towel omo yet. I'm going to have to do this the next time I do a hold. I'm not sure when that might be.

*Sorry for the really late response. Life has be insane.

** is this a sign for me to start an emoji army?

[whumpster-fire]

Upcoming Changes to This Blog

I've been giving the matter a lot of thought over the last few weeks, and ultimately I came to a difficult decision. I've grown and changed a lot over the four years since I made this blog, and I don't think the theme or URL really fit who I am anymore.

That's why, with some mixed feelings, that going forward this is going to be a Cottagecore aesthetic blog. After next week I will be changing my URL to happy-rural-living-579033, and will be posting primarily aesthetic boards, gifboards, stimboards, pinboards, kinboards, hoverboards, and other kinds of content ending in -board. Here is a small preview of the kind of content you can expect to find here going forward.

April Fools! I'm actually going to continue posting stupid bullshit on this blog forever.

(Images primarily sourced from Pexels and Pixabay, with some photoshopping, other than the skeleton chair and an image of a California wildfire taken from a news website)

[gabessquishytum]

Cw: inflation, belly kink

My friend, a vision: camboy Dream. Wearing a tiny skirt, and a strappy black harness over his chest so his flat belly is framed.

Kneeling on his bed, doing an inflation scene for his subscribers. Water or air, dealer's choice. Either way he makes such a production of filling himself up, telling his viewers how he's feeling the tighter and rounder his skinny little belly gets.

Soon he's so full he looks pregnant, and he has to shove the waistband of his little skirt right down because it doesn't fit across his belly anymore. And he's so hard the skirt's not hiding much anyway.

His moans when he pushes just a little bit more inside are so hot half his audience come right then. But no one logs off, they want to see it when he takes his skirt off and comes all over himself, his come dripping all over his round belly.

Hob is so addicted to him he's embarrassed about it.

Love, 0.0

AJSBDBFNDH i have been hit in the kink yet again, Holy Shit. Also, welcome back my beloved 0.0!!!

Please consider: Dream uses water and air. He's got a massive 2 litre water bottle that he's seductively sucking away on, drinking it all down at a rate that is frankly impressive. It all sloshes in his empty tummy and slowly gives him an adorable little bulge. He's got such a lovely deep voice, a definite contrast with his svelte figure and femme presentation. His viewers are just starting to get excited when he produces the air pump with a mischievous little smirk.

He sits in profile so everyone can see the way his belly slowly fills out. The water inside him makes him feel so heavy, while the air encourages him to swell more and more.

Dream is an experienced performer, so he knows when he's almost at his limit. He takes a break to sit back and run his hands all over himself, describing how tight his skin is, how it hurts but feels so so good. His cock is pressing hard up against his belly for everyone to see - the skirt is a lost cause by now, one of the seams has split and he's abandoned it altogether.

He asks the audience if they think he can handle a little more. He's secretly looking out for a comment from his favourite subscriber (it's Hob, of course, who I like to think is also a fetish content creator. He's embarrassingly addicted to Dream but too shy to reach out and ask for a collab). Of course everyone wants to see more, but Hob’s comment is the cutest and sexiest - you should push yourself for us, love. if you feel comfortable.

So Dream squeezes the pump again, sending more air into his body. His back arches and he whines so sweetly - it hurts so much but it feels so good, he's desperate to be touched and soothed and told how good he is. He hiccups and writhes and cums all over the globe of his belly, then rubs his cum slowly into the stretched out skin.

Meanwhile Hob is sitting at home, covered in his own mess, desperately wishing that he could provide Dream with some wonderful tummy rubs and aftercare. He deserves it so much <33