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bluesloosh3 · 3 years ago

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So, kitten... can you feel it yet? The little knot in the pit of your guts, just below the navel? I'm sure you can by now... no, you're not imagining it. Pay attention, and you'll feel it gradually intensify. Notice that yet?

I bet by now it's an unmistakable little pressure, isn't it? Something down there, needing space? Can you feel the pressure mounting, pushing outward? ... My, just look at your little belly! You know, it's got a definite little curve to it, doesn't it? Are you starting to get a little pudgy, kitten? Is it getting worse and worse?

You'd better pull up that shirt, so we can have a look.... Oh, wow... aren't you round, now? You're getting such a big belly-- is it heavy, kitten?-- that you look a little pregnant!

Oh, don't act so scandalized! You're clearly knocked up, don't bother denying it. Did you have fun, winding up this way? ... You didn't do anything? Oh, still playing innocent, or just forgetful? ... I hope you're not suggesting I've been spending late nights learning forbidden magic from an ancient book, just so that I could enspell your slim, fertile little body, transforming you lush and ripe with swift-growing life, because *that* would be ridiculous and no one would take you seriously about it, would they, kitten?

So hard to stop rubbing your belly, isn't it? You're getting absolutely massive by now... doesn't it feel so full and round, so heavy? You're positively glowing, you know, with your beautiful dome of a belly and your swelling chest... What, you didn't notice? So distracted by your ballooning belly you didn't even notice your nipples getting so sensitive, your chest puffing up into nice, soft tits? Careful, I bet they're going to be really heavy too, before long. I wonder... if I hadn't said anything, would you have noticed before they started to leak?

But enough, you shouldn't be on your feet now, not in your delicate condition! Waddle on over to the couch, now, and get nice and comfortable while you blow up for me. You should probably slip out of those clothes, too-- if you like them-- while you still can. That's right, struggle on out of those jeans... They look so unbearably tight! Your little ass has gotten so fat, kitten! Look how much it jiggles when I do... *this!* Wow, remember when you used to be so skinny, and your butt was so tiny and firm? Look at it-- it's still wobbling!

Sorry, kitten, weren't you going to have a lie-down? Take the weight off your feet? Goodness, but you're so... turned on by this? You can't even begin to hide your arousal, kitten. You're actually getting off to getting so enormously pregnant? Absolutely unbelievable! You're such a swollen little perv, aren't you, kitten? Go on: squeeze your bloated tits and tell me how much it's turning you on to be blimping up for me. Tell me.

Well, that's lucky for you, kitten, but I wonder how long this experience will remain novel for you. You see, you're going to be my plumped-up, pregnant plaything for quite some time. I'm sure you'll have fun, keeping me nice and satisfied. Because when I start to get tired of your charms, I'll just have to make you a little bigger, won't I?

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bluesloosh3 · 3 years ago

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Well, since you ask…. I mean, do you really want to know? You do? Okay. So… yeah, I do think about you when I… you know, touch myself. But I think about a version of you… oh my god, this is embarrassing. So I think about a version of you that’s… *pregnant.*

Yeah, for real. Not a joke. It’s, um… something of a reliable fantasy. You’re sure you want to know?

Okay, in that case… I imagine you come looking for me. We haven’t seen each other in a while, so I’m always startled by how big you are, and– What? No, *really* big. Like, overdue with twins, big. You’re always wearing something that’s much too small– sometimes it’s that one low-cut dress, or sometimes you want to show me a bikini, regardless you’re bulging out of it, really showing off your extra-big, swollen boobs.

You tease me a little– you might say something about how you know I love your body all plumped up like this, or something like “ooh, I feel so big and heavy lately,” or how you’ve got a lot more growing to do– but pretty soon you’re climbing on top of me, pinning me beneath your round, heavy belly. I grab your hips as you grind on me, or I rub your huge belly, while you lean down and bring your dripping tits toward my mouth, and I… anyway.

And sometimes you ride me hard, and sometimes you go down on me, but generally this is about the point when I… well, when I get what I need out of the fantasy.

Are we still cool? I hope that wasn’t an overshare….

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bluesloosh3 · 3 years ago

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No Cheating Policy

It was a normal Wednesday morning when I stumbled into class, gripping my coffee like grim death to keep me awake. The professor, an older man in his late 40s at least, is known for being kind of hot compared to the rest in his department, but I find him so boring I can barely keep my eyes open. I see you, sitting a few rows from the very back, and we share a polite smile as I take my seat in the same row, though farther towards the other side. You’re wearing a flannel and some tight jeans, and I jealously look it over, judging if I could make that outfit work on me, when the professor kicks off the class.

Right off the bat, he’s talking about something super boring, like statistics or archeology or something, so I start taking notes, praying I can actually focus for once. Only a few minutes pass, however, when I hear you…moan? Looking over, I see that you look normal, though your face is kind of flushed? Thinking I imagined it, I turn back to my notes, but soon, I hear it again. Louder. When I sneak a look at you, you’re fidging in your seat, and another moan escapes you. It sounds so…sexual? But I must have watched too much porn before I went to bed the previous night before, because the professor is just talking about spreadsheets, and you don’t have your phone out. I go back to my notes.

When I sneak a peek at you again, still moaning, I can see you’re barely holding it together, and you’re actually writhing now, nervously looking around to see if anyone notices. I whirl back to the professor, not wanting to get caught, when I see something weird. Every few seconds, after he says something…he’s looking at you. And every time he looks at you, I hear the moan. God, my imagination is just running wild, trying to turn this boring class into nothing, right? Because when I look at you, you…have a gut? I swear, I’ve seen you wear skin tight shirts to class and yet I’ve never noticed that little pouch just under your waistline. I can only see it when you shift just a little, still wiggling and moving impatiently, but I’m wondering how you’re even wearing those jeans, when they seem to be squeezing your fat midsection so tightly.

I get a text, and turn away, realizing I’ve missed some places in my notes, but before I can fill them in, I hear your mewling again, and turn. Now, your stomach is big, bigger than I thought. How have I never noticed it before? Now, you barely have to move to see how big it is, round under your loose shirt. Your hand drifts down, and whether it’s the slight force or the way you move, but I hear a loud metal ping, and something shifts under your shirt. It’s not until everyone stops, after hearing the noise, that I realize it’s your jeans button. It’s given out completely. Free from the limit of your jeans, your belly is now rounding out, clearly and obviously beneath your shirt. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was even growing?

Notes. Notes. I have to fill in my notes. My hand cramps as I rush to fill in what I missed, but I’m so distracted, watching the professor watch you. It’s like seeing a game of tennis, watching his eyes bounce back and forth, always, always finding you. He even smiles, a bit, but I assure myself it’s over the work. He just really loves formulas.

Until I turn back to you. Your hand is clamped over your mouth, and I can see sweat drip down your reddening face, as you buck your hips against the chair. It’s almost obscene, but I can’t tear my eyes away, as your belly reaches the confines of your shirt, stretching it taut and spread out. The only thing working harder than the buttons is your free hand, desperately gripping the armrest of the chair to keep you from thrusting out of your seat. My eyes are drawn, helplessly, to your chest, as I see your new tits jiggle with every one of your movements. I’d say it looks like you got work done, but work doesn’t make them that soft, that gelatinous, as you rock and sway. They’re massive, swelling, rippling, and I’m not paying attention to the lecture anymore. Swearing under my breath, I decide to throw my notes to the wind, too confused and fascinated to look away. Your eyes are firmly locked on the professors, and I watch between you. The next time he glances, you grimace, and I watch, thrilled and terrified, as the buttons on your stomach begin to pop, one by one. Your stomach is on full view now, completely outgrowing your ruined top, and the sight is nearly erotic. The skin is so taut, and smooth, like the surface of a water balloon filled to absolutely bursting, though I can tell from just looking that it’s firm and tight under your hands. On the sides, angry red stretch marks are blooming, the only other thing besides your face showing how quickly and painfully this is happening to you. I can see the moan fall from your lips as your hand drifts over your bump, trying and failing to reach your navel. With every graze of your palm, you cant your hips and throw your head back, and it’s like I can feel myself how sensitive you are. Your face is so flushed, hair sticking to the side of your face with sweat, and it’s not even over. Because the professor locks eyes with me, then, like he knows I can see, swingings his eyes to you, and the effect is instanteous. Dark wet patches begin to bloom in the breasts of your destroyed shirt. White rivulets of liquid trace a path over your gravid swell, reminding me of how round it truly is, as you hold your hands over them in horror. But they’re sensitive too, and I can see it in your face, and hear it in the loud mewl you release, completely uncontrolled. If anyone else is looking, I don’t know, because I’m completely absorbed by you now, tracing my eyes over your widened, fertile hips, how much padding you have around your thickened arms, your softening chin, your growing thighs. Your jeans, the waistband wide open and with the zipper pulled to nearly ripping, are white with the tension, and I wonder how much longer until they go too.

I suppose the professor is wondering the same thing, though, because it’s not long after that he calls your name. You sit straight up, face flaming as you try to straighten yourself up. But it’s impossible. Your shirt is in shambles, your face is sweaty, your belly is hanging so wide over you that your thighs are spread, revealing your splitting jeans. You look thoroughly and wholly fucked, and the professor knows it.

“Would you like to come down to the front now?” he says, but it’s not a question. You shyly rise to your feet, and all eyes are on you as you wobble, unbalanced with your new center of gravity. You look nine months pregnant, at least, but I can’t tell with one baby or two. I can’t tell if I’ve ever seen anyone as pregnant as you look, waddling down the center aisle of stairs. By the time you’re down them, you’re huffing, the extra pounds all over your proving themselves not to be for show. Your face is even redder now, from exertion, but also because every single pair of eyes in the room is on you. Except for one.

“I asked this student to come to the front as a demonstration, for all of you. I told you all I have a very strict no cheating policy. I also told you I do not report this to the university, and instead mediate with you in class. This is the punishment for cheating. Do not take it lightly. Understood?”

Your eyes are wide with almost tears at this point, as everyone in the room nods and quietly ascents. One hand is over your swell, barely covering it, and the other is at your back, supporting it as you arch to stay upright. You look like you’re in so much pain, until the teacher’s eyes fall on you again.

“Understood?”

And everyone watches as your body locks up and an orgasm rips through you. Your thighs shake, easing you to the ground, as you moan breathily, obscenely, in your ecstasy. Everyone can only watch, horrified and aroused, as you spend the last minutes of class riding out your pleasure to the very drop, publicly displayed for the class.

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bluesloosh3 · 3 years ago

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I mean I cant get you pregnant because well trans girl sperm.

But what if I fill you with cum every time we fuck anyway, and you hold your legs up in the air like your trying to get knocked up.

We might even convince a chemist to put you on some hormones that will trick your body into thinking it’s pregnant. All the cravings, the weight gain, the aches and pains, the sensitivities and heightened libido. And that’s just your life. Always pregnant never giving birth. That’s the way you stay.

Just my fussy girl who needs to be looked after, and kept well fed. You are eating for two after all.

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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Tell me I'm beautiful, but tell me how much more beautiful I'd be... heavier. Tell me you imagine the spreading of my hips, the thickening of my thighs... preparing my body to grow round and ripe and full.

Tell me you imagine my belly swelling day by day, our secret at first, until it can never be kept secret again. Tell me how much you want to watch my belly grow big and round, protruding downward and forward, forcing me to abandon my outfits one at a time as they grow snug, then too-tight, then impossible. Tell be how you want me increasingly, undeniably full of you, so that each strained movement, each moment of carrying this weight, is a reminder of what you did to me to make me like this.

Tell me how much you want everyone who sees me to know, at a glance, what we did together.

Tell me how big you want me to get for you. How big I *will* get for you-- it's out of my control, now. I'm helplessly along for the ride as my body swells and changes, becoming unrecognizable, becoming huge, becoming a living, growing monument to my fertility and your lust. Tell me you want the mounting weight of my belly to pull me downward and forward, on to my hands and knees, at you mercy, with my bloated tits hanging down.... They used to be tiny little breasts, cute and perky and gravity-defying, but you'll make sure they'll never be tiny again. Nothing about me will ever be tiny again.

Tell me you want to do it to me again and again, bigger and more each time, my body swelling and growing increasingly beyond my control.

Tell me.

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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You’re Favorite F(Br)eeding Cow

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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“I’ve cast a spell on you… the more turned on you get, the more pregnant you get.”

Immediately, my stomach flipped. Fear? Excitement? Or… was I already getting turned on at the mere idea? The witch, sidling up behind me with her hands at my waist, leaned in and pressed her body against mine, letting her hands slide over my lower belly. She bit my earlobe and whispered, giving me goosebumps: “I think I can feel it working… can’t you? You should probably lie down.”

I head toward the couch, but I have to pause to unbutton my jeans. They *are* feeling a little… snug… at the waist. I don’t know if her “spell” is working or not, but it definitely looks like I’m going to get lucky with this cute witch babe, so… I bend over, struggling more than usual to get out of these jeans. By the time I stand back up, I’m sporting a definite little potbelly, and it definitely wasn’t there a minute ago.

I turn to her, ready to say “what the fuck?”, but suddenly she’s kissing me on the mouth and the words don’t come. Her shirt’s already off; her bra is black lace. She bites my lower lip, and her hands caress my stomach– *no*, my *bump*. “My, my, my… looks like my little plaything is well and truly knocked up.” She’s smirking and it’s hot as fuck. My head is spinning.

She pushes me down to the couch, and climbs on top, straddling my hips. I feel so heavy all of a sudden. She unclasps her bra, holds it in place for a moment. “I don’t know if I should take this off… wouldn’t want you to get too worked up, right? Not in your delicate condition.” It makes little difference; I’ve been fantasizing about her breasts all night, and this little tease is a torment. I squirm underneath her, bucking my hips just slightly, but it’s hard to move– I feel sluggish and unwieldy. “Look at yourself,” she urges. “Look at how pregnant you’re getting for me.” She drops her bra to the floor, and I want to look at her perfect tits, but the big dome of my own belly catches my eye instead. *Is it growing while I watch?* “God, your tits are even bigger than mine, now,” she says, snapping me out of it. She’s not wrong. They flop down, resting on the full curve of my belly, their nipples broad and dark. My tits, like everything else about me now, are so very heavy.

She grinds into me a bit, leaning forward and down, her trim stomach pressed against my swollen orb. She’s pressing her breasts toward my face, and I turn to to put one in my mouth, sucking desperately. I don’t know what’s happening to me but I don’t care, such is my need. “Do you like this?” she asks, cupping one of my brand new fat fucking tits. It’s so sensitive, and I shudder, sucking harder on her nipple. “Blowing up like this for me, I mean. Like a big, pregnant hot air balloon?”

She adjusts her stance on top of me; I’m now too big for her to lean over my enormously round belly in quite the same way, and she sits up on my thighs, taking her perfect breasts away from my face. When I reach my hands up for them, my arms jostle my own swollen pregnant tits, pressing them together to form a surprisingly deep cleavage. I gasp at the sensation. When I look past my own cleavage, I see my belly surge forward again, even bigger. I feel impossibly huge. Now when she leans forward, she’s resting her breasts on the top of my massive pregnant belly. They look so small now, compared to my own.

For a moment, I watch her watching me, tracking the lust in her gaze as she surveys her handiwork. There’s ever-growing pressure in my womb and my tits, and I’m sinking deeper and deeper into the couch cushions under my own mounting weight, but the only sensation that matters to me is my red-hot carnal need. She reaches down between my thickening thighs, teasing me with the prospect of release, and my body expands again.

Thinking about how huge I am now, how fat my ass must be by this point, how heavy my belly will feel when I eventually have to stand up… my body expands again. Even merely growing is turning me on, and making me grow. I feel a warm wetness, and realize I’m leaking milk.

“Yes,” I respond at last. “I really, really like this.”

“What do you like about it?” she asks, smiling devilishly, and I start to think about any answer to her question but my belly interrupts. It’s growing again, tight and round and glorious. I’ve never seen a belly this big before in my life.

“Blowing up like this for you. Like a hot air balloon. A big, pregnant, leaking, desperate, absolutely enormous hot air balloon.”

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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New video: Happy Violet Circle. Just a quick meme, but it’s just as big and blue and round as anything else.

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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'Why is my Dick Blue' and other Pressing Questions - deviantart

Did your dom leave you with a blue stain that just won’t go away? Are you now waddling around even after hours in the juicing room? Are you now a giant blue ball that hasn’t seen the sun in months and wondering what a cute technician is doing putting this pamphlet in your face? If you answered yes to the first two questions there’s no need to worry, and if you answered yes to the last question, congratulations! You can still read! In this short guide you will find all the answers to your questions on becoming a Permaberry!

There are five levels of Permaberry. They are, in order of severity: Stained, Bloated, City, Chameleon, and Barrel. The first two are the most common and tend to happen on accident. These can occur when a caretaker waits too long to juice his berry, or they can be a planned result in order to “mark” a sub. Depending on the severity they may be able to leave the Studio, or they may be required to stay. City Permaberries are the rarest of the five. These men swell up randomly once a month or even just once a year. This used to require them to stay at the Studio, but now they can lead a normal life with some new lifestyle changes. Chameleon and Barrel Permaberries are only found at Studio 71 or at its other properties. While both are available to everyone, they carry a heavy cost in one way or another. Whichever way you choose to go, know that each Permaberry is only as permanent as you choose to be.

1) Stained.

What it is: This is the most common Permaberry. It is caused when a caretaker waits too long to juice their berry. The time frame, however, varies from person to person. Some have been juiced only after a couple of hours after swelling and have blue stains on their body, while others can wait up to a week to be juiced and come out completely clear.

What to look for: I hoped this would be self explanatory, but in case you didn’t catch on you’re looking for one (1) blue stain on you or your fuck boy’s body. The most common area to look is the groin, ass, and belly. Other places this may appear are the feet, chest, nose, or hands, although these are less common.

How it’s cured:

Well this may be hard for the affected party, but in order to get rid of the stain the affected has to remain celibate for up week at a time. This will allow the residual juices to be concentrated in the semen and make the stain disappear within a week or two. A chastity can be used here to great effect, and in fact this is usually why doms choose to make their subs Stained in the first place. If you didn’t go this route because you’re just an eighteen year old college freshman freaking out because this is the closest thing you have to ever gotten to an STI don’t worry. Even if you orgasm three times a day the stain always goes away on its own, but that would take months rather than weeks. There are no long term effects so calm down you gushy bottom.

2) Bloated

What it is: This is what happens when you leave your berry swollen for over a week. The juice becomes slightly congealed and pools in one part of the body. They may be completely blue, or just the swollen body part may be colored. In either case it’s gonna take a while to get rid of it. This is the second most common Permaberry and they almost always have to stay at the studio

What to look for: You’re looking for stained skin and large parts of the body that slosh when you touch them, other then the ones you’ve paid to see. It normally pools in the ass and belly, but it can also cause the genitals, face, and feet to swell as well. Here's the thing, if you or your date are still blue and sloshing after a 2 hour juicing session that was supposed to be 30 minutes that's a good sign that they or you are now Bloated.

How it’s cured: Buckle-up bucker-roo because you’re in for the long haul. It could take up to a month to get the swelling down. See the thing about a Bloated Berry’s juice is that is more like Jello than fruit juice. It's very stubborn, but it can be diluted with a lot water. And I mean a lot of water. Think ten gallons a day. Basically if you always feel you’re about to piss yourself that means it's working. Now that it is somewhat fluid it can be coaxed out with some basic yoga poses. Studio 71 does offer some classes that are filled with bloated berries so you’ll never be short of company. Don’t worry, the classrooms have plenty of drains on the floor. Everyone after a month or so makes a full recovery, but some lucky bastards get to keep a berry’s legendary flexibility.

3) City

What it is: Are you busy man on the go? Need a vacation? Do you feel so stressed you can just burst? Do you have a strange masochistic desire to make your God Awful existence an oddly sexual nightmare? Then you might, might, become a City Berry. This is the rarest of all the Permaberries and it only affects a baker's dozen around the globe. They have earned their name due to the fact that all of them came from major metropolitan areas before the Studio and continue to reside there. They lead average lives and being a Permaberry doesn’t affect their professional or private life at all. However, about once a month, their stomach starts to gurgle, turn blue and they start to grow. Once that happens they have about an hour to rush home to their Juicing Kit or risk being stuck as a blue ball in public.

What to look for: City Berries look just like anyone else really. There is no way to really separate them from the crowd. However in private, if you’re comfortable with violating their privacy you can look for their juicer, but this isn’t recommend as there is only 14 or so people in the whole world have them. Anyway if they were a City Berry they probably wouldn’t date someone who’s rummaging through their closest like a cracked out raccoon. Come to think of it that is just the response you should expect for everyone who has a working brain stem. Anyway at full size they aren’t any different from the berries at Studio 71. Their juice is slightly more potent however, and while a regular Studio berry might make you shade or so paler, a City Berries juice will definitely turn you blue. In the off chance you find yourself in this situation juice yourself as soon as you can to avoid becoming Stained.

How it’s cured: As of now there is no cure. Some City Berries have had this condition for years, but it hasn’t affected their life terribly. If you do find yourself in this situation you have no need to be nervous or scared.

4) Chameleon

What it is: This is it. The most Exclusive Berry drink at Studio 71. One shot can make you a berry indefinitely, but that's not all. One shot of Studio Elite gives you full control of you transformation. Do you want to be buff? Round? Blueberry? Cherry? A mix of all four? Go for it Champ! A Chameleon can change what shape and color they are at will. It is the ultimate experience of berry inflation, and most are willing to work at the studio for a year just to pay the $10,000 price tag for one shot. As it is nearly all of the staff at Studio 71 are Chameleon’s and are paying back their debt. However there are some lucky sons of bitches who win a monthly drawing to get it for free.

What to look for: Honestly anything. They could be short, tall, skinny, fat, and any color of the rainbow. Just assume that everyone who works at the Studio is one and you’re good to go. Observant guests can even spy one changing from one fruit to another if the pay attention.

How it’s cured: Asking a Chameleon if they want to be cured is like asking a lottery winner if they want to work at McDonald’s. Most don’t want it to end, but if it must there is a drinkable cure which remove the effects. What follows is a standard juicing practice and they are back to normal. As of now there has only been a couple who willingly ended to move on with their life, but more have had the privilege removed for punitive reasons.

5) Barrel

What it is: This is it. The Ride or Die Berry. The drink that turns you into a Barrel is only $20, but the price is in reality much steeper. Like the Chameleon Berry this one comes with its own separate contract. If buy this drink you have to remain in the studio for a minimum of six months. And no that can’t be negotiated down. If you drink the Barrel potion it will change your life forever, and maybe not for the best.

What to look for: You’re gonna look for a giant blue ball that has no idea where it is. That’s because barrels aren’t your run of the mill berry. Oh no, they are the closest to being permanent. See the human body isn’t exactly designed to carry two tons of fluid inside it, so the potion makes some changes. It actually weakens the skeleton in order to get the resources needed to form a cartilage sphere under the berries skin. This new flexible shell now carries the weight. This process removes most human characteristics from the berry’s skin. Their nipples, genitals, and body hair are all removed, in some cases even their hands and feet are absorbed into the body. What’s left is smooth, shiny surface that almost looks like latex. Once the juice passes the blood brain barrier it starts to effect the berry’s mind. First they lose all track of time. If you leave them alone in a room and come back an hour later they will think you only just left. Then comes amnesia. The won’t remember anything from their life before being a berry. Lastly the long term memory process shuts down. Now they believe their entire existence is what is going on around them, nothing more.

Due to the extremity of the treatment paying customers are limited to six months of this treatment. Rule breakers are another story. This is the fate of anyone who breaks Studio 71’s security or the privacy of the guests. They will be a barrel for at least a year, possible many more.

WARNING! All berries CAN and WILL become Barrels if they aren’t juiced in two weeks time! Remember to juice your Berry Boys before the two week mark or you will be forced to join them for their extended visit!

How it’s cured: One word: Juicing. Lots and lots of juicing. There is special machines made for it at Studio 71 that specialize in juicing as Barrels need a long slow juicing process. This ensures a gentle and painless process in which the cartilage sphere its dissolved by the action and the skeleton can reform. The entire process can take weeks, regardless of how long they were a Barrel. Out of all of the Permaberries only half return completely to normal. The rest have permanently stained skin and might even always carry juice in there bodies. The lest common side effects affect the brain. While 90% of all return to their normal selves, 5% gain significant intelligence, while the other 5% never fully recover from the ordeal. If you choose to go down this path think carefully. You may not come out the other end the same.

Well that's it berry boy. Feel better? No? Honestly that sounds like a “you” problem. Look there isn’t really a need to panic about a blue spot or a swollen gut, so sit down, shut up, and I hope you enjoy your stay at Studio 71. Stay Juicy!

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

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A blueberry mom story, because I can.

Melissa was a blueberry. More specifically, she was a mom, and a blueberry.

Her massive body swelled up huge with juice, gushing and splashing juice from her pussy, her nipples swollen, fat and ripe like her entire form. She was heavily pregnant again, nearly eight months pregnant with octuplets that strained her fruity womb, and a mother to two teenagers.

"Mom, you're huge!" Amy muttered, looking over her mom:s gigantic body, completely nude and erupting with juice. Melissa simply flapped her hands, moaning and blubbering in content. "Yes honey, I'm a blueberry, am I not?" She giggled, her womanhood aching for sex.

Her body had granted her eternal youth, and eternal ripeness, with the side effect of being so taut and huge she could barely move without assistance. "Well yeah Mom, it's just, you're so fat." Amy commented blandly, looking over her mother in embarrassment. She was like her mom too, but felt more apprehensive about it. "And Dad keeps knocking you up, making you bigger than usual." Amy added on, rolling her mom off the bed gently.

"Mmm, but those were surrogacies. These babies are your siblings, Amy. Eight new baby brothers and sisters, coming from this ripe fruit. You should be proud, having such a juicy mother!" Melissa moaned, the feeling of her daughter's hands on her massive frame so sensitive and tingly, she curled her toes in pleasure. "It's so weird though! No-one else at school has a pregnant mom, especially not one that's a blueberry!" Amy sighed, she loved her mom, she loved being this as well, but people were weirded out by them.

"Well then all the more reason to be proud honey, your mom's so fertile!" Melissa comforted, the juice inside her gurgling and groaning loudly, rolling over her sides as Amy pressed down, hurtling like a bloated cannonball out onto the landing. Amy chuckled. "I guess. I'm just.. other girls at school keep calling me a freak. You know, for being," She gestured to her blue self, sighing morosely. Melissa got angry for her daughter. Their condition might be rare, but it was immobilising at the best of times, and that shouldn't be mocked. "Well, I'll be speaking to the principal about that then. It's about time those girls got punished." Melissa sniffed, wishing she was juiced so she could hug her daughter. Amy smiled softly. "Thanks, Momma."

Melissa gasped as her belly pressed out with a foot, sniffling suddenly. "Baby, your siblings are kicking!" She exclaimed. Amy stopped for a moment, watching the little hands press out from her mom's belly in awe. Her mom had been through many pregnancies, surrogacies and berries, but this was different. These were her baby brothers and sisters. She placed a hand over a foot kicking outwards, laughing. "That's... that's beautiful!" Amy croaked, hugging her mother as best she could. The sudden pressure had Melissa's womanhood spurt juice, moaning out loud. "I know baby. What's on the list for today?" She asked curiously.

"We were thinking about taking you down to the country fair today. Dad's readying the truck and Jack's prepping your juicing equipment." Amy said, setting her mom on the stairs and grappling with her mother's gigantic ball body, keeping a firm hold as she angled Melissa down the stairs, grunting and groaning as she did so. "Damn mom, you're so heavy. Baby weight's got you getting fatter, I swear to god." Amy commented jokingly. Melissa chuckled. "Well, it's good for the babies. And your Dad does like BBWs after all." Melissa mused. Amy groaned. "Great, I need brain bleach."

Melissa chuckled, and with a soft slapping sound rested on the floor, facing the ceiling on her back.

Amy continued rolling her outside, the fields outside their home vast and numerous. The low thrum of a truck engine came around the corner, Max, Melissa's husband and the kids' dad pulling up. The truck had an extension just for her to be strapped into, the live produce she was. The pregnant blueberry woman felt herself being pushed by another pair of hands, rotated over to see her son next to his sister. Jack grinned. "Hey mom. You having fun?" He asked jokingly. Melissa giggled back. "My pregnant ass keeps getting kicked by the babies. Your dad's fault for knocking me up again I suppose."

Max jumped out of the truck, his scruffy beard rugged and cultured, a long stretch from his wife's youth and eternal fertility. One day they'd all enjoy it in the Fruit Nexus. "Hey honey. You look chubby today." He complimented. His wife's soft round face had rosy purple cheeks glowing on her visage, smiling serenely at her husband. "Thank you baby. Can you hook me in?" She asked with a short moan.

Max obliged, and with the help of their children rolled Melissa toward the truck extension, opening the ramp. "One, two, three!" With heaves and shoves, the kids and Max managed to heave Melissa into the extension. They strapped taut leather harnesses around Melissa's ass, the small of her back and her boobs to keep her from moving, making sure she was secure. "Imma ride with Mom in the back." Amy said to the boys, who acquiesced, jumping in the front.

Amy sat leaning against her mom's gigantic breast, the juice displacing in it as she laid her head right next to Melissa's divot. "How does it feel Mom? Like, I know I've asked you this before, but I wanna know." Amy asked, watching as the countryside started to pass them by on the way to the local County Fair.

Many cars almost crashed thanks to the sight of Melissa in the extension. A huge, naked blueberry woman was a shock for anyone, let alone on the road. She leaked all over the metallic floor, tarp laid down so she couldn't feel the cold. "It feels full, everywhere. Like you've eaten a huge meal, and it's all around your body. And where your limbs used to be is a huge field of taut, crammed space. When you're pregnant it's heavier." Melissa described, flapping her hands enough that one reached her daughter's hair. She began to stroke it, something she hadn't done in a long while, enjoying the moment.

It was boiling and exactly 12:05pm by the time they'd reached the fair. It wasn't too busy yet, and the truck pulled into a clearing on the grass. As Melissa was being unhooked, people were gawping and pointing at her.

"Holy shit, she's massive!"

"What is she?"

The comments made her blush, the humiliation arousing to her. The hot burn of mortification made her full, ripe womb stir, her pussy gushing juice underneath her.

"She's naked, is this even alright?"

"She's some sort of fuckin' fruit!"

She was rolled out of the extension, phones and cameras all around her. She flushed, her daughter hovering close. Melissa felt her husband's hands on her and sighed, letting him waddle her toward their site. She saw people recording her and flushed, taking immense pride in her colossal, juice-crammed body, leaking and gushing juice all over the grass, soon coming across their stall, a wooden box just big enough for Melissa to fit into. The berry woman was rolled into it and set on her feet, jiggling passively as she faced outward.

Max put down a sign advertising her, reading: "Pictures with a berrygirl, $5 for a photo, $10 for a glass of juice, $80 for a keg of juice. DON'T TOUCH THE PRODUCE!' "Really honey?" Melissa murmured, her huge, round body rocking and swaying in the breeze, juice spurting and splashing from swollen purple nipples.

"What?" Max chuckled, kissing his berry wife's pregnant blue belly lovingly. "You're my produce, right?" He murmured softly. She gasped at his soft touches, flapping her hands needily as her toes curled into the grass. "Of course." She whispered back.

They got many customers within the first few hours. The crowds marvelled at her, how ripe and taut she was, many people wanting to touch her, rub her or just admire her. Melissa found it amusing, erotic even, the fruit lady waddling on the spot as she spurted juice into kegs and buckets, dispensed as Max took in their earnings.

Soon, a gaggle of teenage girls strode over, noticing Amy. "Oh, Amy! This big blue woman's your mom?" One gasped in amazement, watching as Melissa observed curiously. "Hi?... Yeah, Mom and I are one of a kind." She elaborated, leading them over timidly. The group of girls were watching her as if she was some sort of zoo animal, so she decided to speak up. "I am right here you know." Melissa greeted warily, waddling forward a little. "I'm Melissa, Amy's mom. Are you the girls at her school? The ones who call her a freak?" She probed, noticing some guilty looks, raising an angry eyebrow.

"We're... we're sorry about that. We didn't know you guys were rare, or even a race of people, we just thought... it's no excuse, can we start over?" One of the leading girls asked uneasily, hugging herself. Melissa hummed, the other girls next to the leader seemed enthusiastic, though contrite. One still looked disturbed, but Melissa assumed she just needed time to adjust. "Please, by all means. My juice is in that keg if you wanna ask my husband. Max! These are Amy's friends, from school!" Melissa called over. Max came by, cleaning his hands with a towel.

"Hi sir!" They greet enthusiastically, each shaking his hand politely. "So what brings you girls over here?" One brings out her phone, tapping out something. "Oh, we saw you on YouTube! You're Trending ma'am! #BlueberryWoman has been first on Twitter for the past half hour!" She shows Melissa, who watches a video of herself being placed into her stall, flushing at the number. Over 300,000 people had seen her so swollen and ripe. "Oh wow! Max, look at that!" He looked over her circumference to look at the phone, humming in appreciation. "Only the best for my berry wife." He murmurs.

She takes pictures with people for the next half hour, the evening going on by. One businessman tries to ask if she's purchasable, but Melissa sends him on his way as fast as she can. Amy's friends hang around with them, and soon they get an idea. "Hey Mrs Marsen?" They ask her. She turns to them inquisitively, wondering what they could want. They'd had multiple selfies with her already, so she knew they didn't need more.

"Can we do like, an improv dance with you? We could get so much more exposure for you!" The ringleader asks, and Melissa won't admit she bit her lip, spurting juice from below her. "Only if you're careful, I am pregnant you know." She reminded, proving her point as one of the babies kicked inside her.

The girls squealed, taking a hand each and helping her slowly waddle out of her stall, starting to prance around her, circling slowly. Melissa heard them humming, a familiar tune coming to her.

"Oompa Loompa Doopety Doo!

We've got a fat blue berry for you!"

The girls sung, massaging Melissa's belly, her sides and her back, rocking her from side to side gently, pretending to inspect her give, how tight she was, how she felt. Their fingers brushed her skin lightly, and she groaned in pleasure.

They pushed her slowly onto her back, her view going up to the evening sky as they began rolling her towards the County Fair Judge Centre, their hands soft but firm as they pushed.

"Oompa Loompa Doopada Dee!

Round and as ripe as the eye can see!"

Cameras flashed in her vision as people began following along, Max and her children at the girls' side as they rolled her, Melissa revelled in the bliss, the swishing and sloshing of the juice crashing in her crammed, taut body, feeling fat and full.

"Blueberry taut, her juices so sweet!

Pregnant and full, oh what a treat!

But she's heavy and look at her leak!

Her body makes us, oh, so, weak!"

They pushed her gently up the ramp towards the judging centre, and Melissa felt her crotch hit the wood with a thump, gasping in pleasure.

"Rolling and rolling all day long!

The way that a ball does!

Oompa Loompa Doopada Dum

Ripened and blue, what a fat bum!"

They set her on her feet, and started dancing around her, shifting her to face the judges' booth by shuffling her round, keeping a gentle but firm grasp on her.

"She will live in happiness too!

Like the Oompa Loompa Doopety Doo!"

The ringleader ended the song by drumming on Melissa's breasts, making juice splatter everywhere, the crowds going up in cheering and applause. Melissa mewed in embarrassment and arousal, spewing sweet, thick blueberry gunk all over the place.

"Oh yeah, there's been a livestream up of you all evening by the way. Amy was doing it." Melissa raised an eyebrow at Amy, who only shrugged. "Hey, everyone else was doing it!" She defended lightly. Melissa couldn't be mad at her, looking at the judges who gaped at her with jaws ajar. She knew then, instinctively, she'd won!

"Well then!" The leading judge crowed. "Mrs Marsen is the first ever blueberry to win the County Fair of 2019!" He announced, putting the pin lapel and carefully threading it through her nipple. She gasped at the sharp pain, but her elation won over as she waved with her two stumpy, divoted hands to the crowds who cheered and roared in celebration.

It had been an amazing day for Melissa. She was even considering creating a YouTube to document her life. That would be fun, right?

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bluesloosh3 · 4 years ago

Text

Resident Evil 8 but Mia gets turned into a fat, nude, pregnant blueberry by Dimitrescu while still pregnant and overdue by three months with Rose.

Moving to Europe had to be one of the worst decisions Mia and Ethan had ever been forced to make. Ethan had moved them because of a BOW threat after the Baker household. Mia thought that was bullshit, but who was she to argue with a military man, especially one that worked for a company not unlike Umbrella itself.

Scans had been done, and whatever that mould had done had left everlasting consequences, twisting her and her husband's DNA into something inhuman. Then, two years later, Mia found herself pregnant. The scientists had been incredibly interested in monitoring her and the baby.

Mia found out they were having a girl almost three months in, and bigger than expected. Her belly already looked like a woman close to the end of her pregnancy, around six months or so. They predicted that the baby was growing stronger and bigger because both of the parents' BOW DNA. Mia had shuddered at that, must how big was she going to get?

At nine months pregnant, she could confirm, she was fucking huge. Her belly was a gigantic ball that stretched out maybe a foot out from her breasts, which were also massive melons. She thought that was the end of it, bedridden as she waited for their daughter to meet the world.

Then the scientists found that their daughter was stuck inside Mia, potentially forever. That was painful, and comforting at the same time. Their daughter would never know the pain associated with their lives, and so she got to trying to move about again. That she'd actually gotten used to pretty easily again.

Then she'd gotten shot, and by Chris of all people. That had hurt. She had been terrified Rose had been badly hurt, but when she found herself healing in the back of a steel-lined truck she was so relieved, rubbing her gigantic belly softly. "We're alright baby, we're alright." She whispered, ignoring the anonymous, armoured men staring down at the gigantically fecund woman, bursting out of her top, her tits lactating slowly.

Then the crash happened. It was a blur, one moment she'd been whispering sweet nothings to her baby, the next the truck was in midair, tumbling and rolling over itself, debris massacring the armed soldiers effortlessly, cutting them to shribbons. Mia could feel debris stabbing every part of her and screamed, only for it to pass harmlessly through her and Rose, Mia's body healing them both. "Now baby, to find out where the fuck we are." Mia cooed, stepping out of a jagged tear in the roof.

Snow. Snow, everywhere. It was like someone had let off a paper bomb, and it was freezing, especially for the pregnant woman only dressed in an ill fitting top, some tights and a skirt. "Like Christmas baby, huh?" She rubbed her stomach in comfort, spotting something in the distance. "I-Is that a castle? A-and a village?" Mia asked herself, peering into the snow, noting the lights on. "Shelter!" She exclaimed in relief, waddling off the mountain and into the village.

The village was quiet, far too quiet for Mia's liking, and half the buildings looked torn, broken and dilapidated, like they'd been abandoned for a while. But the castle lights were on, so that boded well. Something about the situation felt wrong to Mia though, as she hefted her belly through the freezing snow and up to the castle gates.

She walked, her ankles, her feet swollen and sore, and she could barely bend, the weight from her daughter dragging her down slightly. She arched out her back, her hands propping it up as she heaved and panted, rubbing slow, wide circles. "It's okay baby, I know, it's freezing. We're okay, we're getting shelter." She murmured to her belly, entering the massive castle, opening doors feet taller than her.

"Hello?" She called, finally warmed by candles, easing out her shivers. She could see no-one around, so who was tending to the place? "Anyone here?" She asked, Mia waddling further into the castle hall, the door closing behind her. "Well, no way back now."

"Oh, Mia Winters..." A soft voice purred, a shiver running down Mia's spine, whether it was fear or pleasure she didn't know and couldn't for the life of her figure out. "H-Hello?" She stuttered, looking around to try and see who was speaking, her voice was coming from all around. A hulking shadow emerged from a nearby doorway, and Mia's breath hitched, watching as a woman so much taller than her rose from inside the doorframe, exiting the other room and rising to tower over the hugely pregnant woman.

"W-wow, you're tall..." Mia swallowed, focusing on the pale woman's bust, right in her face to her extreme embarrassment. "W-Who are you and how do you know my name?" She asked timidly, more aware than ever of her previous experiences, completely helpless to whatever this... woman wanted. "Oh, Mia Winters... it doesn't matter how I know... only know this, the babe growing within you must stay within you... for everyone's interests." The taller woman bent down, huge hands rubbing the sides of Mia's gargantuan womb with interest. "She is everything to us..."

"U-us?" Mia squeaked, looking about. With horror, she saw three tall women, shorter than the first but still towering over her. "Who are you?" She demanded, stepping back, quaking and shivering in fear. "Oh, these?" The tall woman crooned. "I am Alcina Dimitrescu, and these are my daughters... we're delighted to have the Great Mother here with us." She felt strangely comforted by her words, and knew there was no need for introduction. "The Great Mother?" Mia asked in confusion, noting they were referring to her.

"Oh, we heard whispers in the mould, of a mother growing ripe with a powerful spawn, and that if they were ever to be born, it would spell disaster for us all." Lady Dimitrescu warned calmly. Mia looked down at her belly. "Well, I-I'm three months overdue, but if she stays in longer I guess it won't be a problem..." Mia trailed off. She did love the feeling of Rose inside her after all.

"Please, you must sit down. I remember carrying my daughter those centuries ago, and most definitely the aches." Alcina offered, sitting Mia down slowly. Mia sighed in relief, the throbbing weight of her feet soothed by her plump ass now perched on the seat. "Th-thank you." Mia acknowledged, rubbing her pregnant swell carefully.

"Now, would you like some wine? I must warn you, it'll transform you." Alcina offered a glass of wine. "Brewed from my own gardens, you see many centuries ago. Within women with a certain attribute, it creates a... potent reaction. Non-alcoholic, of course." Alcina explains. Mia frowns suspiciously, sniffing the open bottle. It smelled heavenly. "I-I can smell that. What do you mean by potent?" She suspected she knew, and the thought was making her belly curl in anticipation, Rose kicking inside her.

"Oh, I suspect you know. Try it, you'll see." Alcina prodded gently, pouring the wine into a glass easy for Mia to hold. Mia had a slight concern. "M-my husband, have you seen him?" Alcina's lip curled in distaste. "Ethan Winters is on his way here. If you wish to have him here, then I shall respect that, though he is not well-liked here." Mia winced, sipping the wine and shuddering in anticipation, her mouth going dry despite the liquid flowing down it, sweet and tangy.

"There, there, you see?" Alcina rubbed Mia's belly, the much larger woman sitting down on a chair more her size. It was like an adrenaline rush pulsing through Mia's system, a shock to her nerves and she gasped. "Oh-o-oh, I feel... good!" Mia exclaimed, Rose's kicks becoming more muted as sensations rode through Mia.

"Mother, it's true!" Bela gasped, pointing to Mia's face. Alcina smiled wryly, and Mia looked down to her belly, her arm, finding her skin fading from pale to a ripe blue colour, glowing healthily like she was so much more fertile. "I-I'm turning blue..." Mia knew she had the latent gene in her after so many dreams and the mould. She raised her hand, examining it and sighing in awe. "Look at you, darling. Why don't we help you out of those awfully small clothes of yours?" Alcina stated, her hands flying to Mia's top. Helplessly, the blue woman let her, hands rubbing the sides of her expectant stomach. With a swift flick of Alcina's nail, Mia's top ripped down the middle, exposing blue, swollen cleavage and a belly like a medicine ball.

"Ooh, fff..." Mia huffed slowly, shifting on her blue ass as she felt her entire body fizz, her belly rumbling. Alcina chuckled. "My, someone's just the sweetest blueberry, aren't they?" She teased, and worked her fingers on Mia's skirt zip, effortlessly sliding it down and stripping Mia slowly of every layer she wore, going to work on the woman's underwear. "S-stop..." Mia groaned, her body taking her hostage to its impulses, unable and unwilling to do more than watch. Fuck, she was liking it.

"Oh, but you don't want that, do you?" Alcina crooned, her fingers tracing Mia's chubby face knowingly, arms going around Mia's hips. She got a face-full of the vampire woman's cleavage, flushing a royal purple and stammering. "U-um, I um-"

"Shh, shh darling, give in... there we go..." Dimitrescu soothed. Her daughters converged gently on Mia. "There you go Great Mother." One said reverently, biting through Mia's panties. Mia whimpered when she felt those teeth brush her swollen womanhood, clenching her thighs together to keep herself from leaking. "Oh, oh God.." She felt light-headed from waves of pleasure as she felt juice swelling up inside her.

Her entire frame gurgled and groaned as Mia started bloating, belly first. "She's kicking..." Bela commented, her claws hovering on either side of Mia's strained belly button, itching and pulsing with juice too. Mia leaned back in her seat, her legs finally unclenching as her bare vagina spilled juice.

With a click, Mia felt Dimitrescu unclasp her bra, her nipples swollen and purple to the point they were leaking over the surface of her belly, insurmountable pleasure building up in her heating core. "Nnnnfffff..." She squeaked, hands flying to the sides of her belly, rubbing it round and round, watching as it blew up further, as if she hadn't swelled up enough over the past year.

"There we go..." Cassandra whispered to Mia, her own hands running up Mia's shoulders and trailing around the ballooning woman. All tension dropped from Mia as the woman went limp, her expansion building up inside her, juice welling inside her hips and her chest. "M-my ass..." Mia gasped, feeling her already far ass-cheeks filling with juice, only now realising she was entirely nude in front of four huge vampire woman, vampire women who were stunningly attractive too.

"Yes, a woman built with child-rearing in mind, my favourites..." Daniela cooed, her hands going to Mia's breasts, kneading the swollen and growing balloons together. Mia heard them squeak and felt them pulse, bucking with a drawn out moan, her blue skin glowing and stretching effortlessly with her juice tank of a body. Her back was beginning to bloat outwards too, and Mia could barely keep up with the growth spreading all over. "Now, now Daniela, please keep your impulses in check. The Great Mother will have plenty of time for ministrations in future." Alcina reminded, preferring to keep wandering around Mia, helping the woman up from the chair before her weighty frame broke it.

SLAP

"OH!" Mia squealed, the sudden slap from Bela on her ass sending a short sting running up her spine, her limbs so fat she could barely move, her arms gigantically thickened to the point she couldn't reach over her widening torso, her breasts big tanks of juice the size of her head and her ass like she'd swallowed two gym balls, dragging down to the floor. Inside her, Rose floated and kicked about, sending juicy ripples through Mia's belly. That too was so massive it hit the floor, leaving the growing woman helpless to the woman's touches and caresses, not that she minded.

Her thighs dragged her swollen pussy down towards the floor, feeling it touch the sodden and ragged carpet, ruined with juice stains that would never come out. "Oh, no matter about the carpet dear girl." Alcina crooned, fingers trailing Mia's chubby face carefully. "You are much more important." Mia groaned aloud, her eyes shut in bliss as she spewed juice everywhere.

Her fat arms did their duty of joining with her fleshy blue sphere, leaving divots for her hands, and Mia's legs were soon no more, leaving the pregnant woman a nude blueberry gushing juice from every angle. "There there, my dear fruit. Daughters, do your mother a favour and prepare her for Mr Winters' entry. I have a proposal for him." Dimitrescu ordered gently.

"Yes Mother!" The three accepted in synchronicity, turning to Mia, who cooed in ecstasy, so full she could barely flap her hands or think. With their hands flying to her body, she let out a high-pitched squeak, rolling onto her back. They shifted her weight so they faced her side, and with hefty shoves began rolling the woman away to be "prepped."

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