luna-baby01 - Tumblr blog

[luna-baby01]

may23 vs now but the only thing that grew was strechmarks😇😇🤭

[luna-baby01]

just a lil bloated🥰

[luna-baby01]

[luna-baby01]

The Curse…

[luna-baby01]

how fat would you make this piggy? ❤️

(they/them)

[luna-baby01]

Luna Gets the Biggest

You're stuck in bed full-time now, and you're not even pregnant... yet. It's been a year since you gave birth to a record-shattering set of vigintuplets that caused you to be put on bed rest by your doctor only a month in and get up to 1300 lbs. just before you gave birth, completely immobilized by your staggering pregnancy, your pregnant stomach pressing so hard into the ceiling that you were worried you might break through it. You had thought that you'd get above half a ton when you got pregnant this time, but you smashed that barrier with a combination of twenty whole fetuses spurring you on to eat yourself into a massive boulder of matronly maternal flesh and having virtually no significant movement during your pregnancy, stuck in bed, pinned down by your heaving belly, a turtle stranded on her back. An enormously fat and pregnant turtle, for sure. 400 lbs. of baby and amniotic fluid came out of you that day, slightly under a third of your total body weight.

The damage had definitely been done to your body, though. Being 900 lbs. postpartum left you stranded in bed, unable to get up without assistance, probably for the rest of your life. You lost a significant chunk of that, though, "slimming" down, if you could even call it that at this point, to 800 lbs. simply because you could not maintain that weight. Though even your non-pregnancy appetite was the stuff of legend now and your metabolism had slowed down significantly from what it was before your first pregnancy, there was simply no way you could eat enough to keep yourself that heavy. It wasn't even a question of breastfeeding, that alone wouldn't've been able to put a dent in your poundage, you just simply could not eat enough to keep yourself that fat without a clutch of babies in your guts.

Since you now have forty children, your house had now become too small for your absurdly large family and you had to move to a much larger one, having the walls of your room broken down to get your fat ass out of your old one. It was much more comfortable for you, your husband, and your teeming flock to be in such a large house, your children having enough room to play both inside and out, including with you. You couldn't do much. You couldn't even get up on you own power to see them, but your kiddos went over to you and loved their how soft their big cuddly mama was, and most importantly, they loved you. Of course, your new bedroom was much larger than what you were in at your old house, able to accommodate your mass as it was... and if you got bigger.

You and your husband weren't dumb, despite how overloaded your brain gets during pregnancy. You both knew that you were going to get pregnant again, and soon. Even though you're so fat you can't walk, your husband putting another ridiculous number of babies in your belly without incident would be inevitable, and you two chose your new house with this in mind. More room in your bedroom for you to grow and more bedrooms for your ever-increasing number of children. Your house was a mansion, which thankfully your husband was able to afford. How he was able to afford what only very few people on Earth would be able to buy was anyone's guess, but you decided to keep yourself ignorant of that fact in case it was something less than savory. You had more important things to think about, like getting your guts stuffed full of food, children, and dick. The one thing you missed about your old house was the creaky floorboards, but that wasn't really your concern then since you weren't able to walk anymore, anyway.

That did not keep you from thinking about how much of a dumb, bloated, fattened breeding sow you were and were going to become soon again, your entire existence dedicated to nothing but feasting, gestating, and fucking with absolutely nothing else on your mind during your pregnancies, a goddess of fertility in human form. A veritable human termite queen. That was when you were the happiest, and you were going to be that happy again. Both you and your husband were ready for you to grow even larger than even the behemoth you have become now. You're a greedy girl, your size alone made that obvious. You wanted some babies in your guts and you wanted them NOW!

Your husband, solely devoted to you, your children, and creating more of them, was rearing to get at you just as much as you were at him, even though you were a complete whale at this point. He had to do all the work, making you quiver underneath him. He got his jollies out of this, too, your soft body a waterbed of flesh bouncing around with each of his thrusts, you two waiting for his seed to turn your belly hard once again as it swelled with a new brood. Both of you were screaming in ecstasy. though thankfully (or perhaps it was something you missed) your moans and yelps during the throes of passion didn't cause as much of a commotion like they used to, with both your room and your house so big that those screams woke neither your children nor your neighbors, of which you had so much land attached to your house that you basically had no neighbors who'd be able to hear the freight train of fucking going on and make noise complaints like last time (something I forgot to mention).

"Get me pregnant, get me fucking pregnant!" you shouted, thinking of nothing else but your husband and the absolutely gargantuan cow he was going to turn you into with this new batch of children you were so eager for him to put inside you. "Make me massive! Get me all the way to a ton! Make me break down the walls of this room! I'm nothing but a baby factory designed to swell with children, and it's all for you!" the latter an uncharacteristically unselfish statement of you to make while in the middle of the horizontal mambo. You were greedy, and you liked being greedy. Your burning desire to swell enormous with child was driving you to this, but you did it for your husband, too. "Fill me with your seed and your children! FILL ME UP! FILL ME UP!!!" you screamed, about to know pleasure like you had never experienced before. The two of you, like all those other times before, did this for at least a week, keeping yourselves quite busy, waiting for the inevitable outcome.

And that moment was realized. A month after those marathon sessions with your husband, you found out you were pregnant again, because of course you were. You simply could not keep yourself from getting pregnant and turning into an enormous breeding sow. The cravings your new brood gave you had you eat yourself up to 900 lbs. again, your voracious maternity-induced appetite showing itself on your body once more. Your doctor, who had to keep himself from screaming at you for getting pregnant again, just wanted to make sure you were healthy at this point. And of course, the moment of truth you and your husband were waiting for had come. Waiting for the announcement of just how pregnant you were going to be and how massive you were going to get drove you insane, your mind pregnant (heh) with anticipation. Your doctor struggled to get a clear reading on the ultrasound through all of the fat on your stomach, but he got it. Forty embryos had been detected. You were having quadragintuplets. That thought sent you into orbit, having a set of consecutive orgasms on cue, your eyes rolling deep back into your head. You screamed at your husband that you'd get past a ton during the first of those steamy fucks that got you in this state, but now you think you were going to surpass even that. Thank God you got that new house, eh?

At the end of the first trimester, you were the size you were when you gave birth the last time, growing exponentially with each pregnancy. You were 1300 lbs., your belly more than three times the size of your body with forty fetuses inside of it, spurring you on to grow fatter and heavier with each orgy of food your husband helped you push past your lips. Your mind was truly mush at this point, both pregnancy brain and arousal driving you mad and unable to think about anything else other than getting food in your stomach, growing your babies, and lying back with your husband inside you making you scream wildly every few hours. The two of you simply could not be stopped from going at each other, or really your husband since you were powerless to stop him, but holy Hell, did you not want to stop him.

"God, I'm getting massive for you!" you screamed during one of the steamier fucks you had then. "I do nothing but have my face, womb, and pussy stuffed! I'm gorging myself all day long and getting fatter & heavier with your babies! They're making me so hungry I just can't stop! MMMM!!!"

"Are you going to get to a ton and burst the walls of your room like you said you were?" your husband replied, wanting to drive you as mad with lust as possible.

"YES! YES! I'M GOING TO BLOW UP AND MAKE THIS ROOM EXPLODE! KEEP FEEDING ME! KEEP STUFFING ME! KEEP FATTENING ME! KEEP ME PREGNANT! KEEP DOING THIS TO ME OVER AND OVER! MY BELLY WILL NEVER BE EMPTY AGAIN! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The two of you made a serious mess of your bed, coming down from a high that was simply indescribable. You HAD to keep doing this. You just had to.

The end of the second trimester was even better. Your stomach was now twenty feet above your head, and you still didn't come anywhere close to filling the confines of your room, making sure to make that room as large as possible to accommodate your ludicrous pregnancies. This was not normal, but you were used to things not being normal ever since you first got knocked up with decuplets and ate yourself into an elephantine food balloon. You were truly a hippo. A heifer. Fattened up at the irresistible insistence of that legion of babies kicking at you to keep on gorging. Your husband made good on his promise, keeping you filled up both with comestibles and himself. You obviously couldn't reach around to pleasure yourself anymore. You had that happen before when you got so heavily pregnant you couldn't reach around your stomach, but that became permanent since your got pregnant the third time, with you already so fat and so pregnant that that would never become a possibility for you again. You were burning with a need that only your husband could fulfill because you couldn't do so yourself, and boy did he do his best to satisfy you. Even you two were shocked at how you were able to go at it so many times in one day, let alone at all. Your husband practically never left your side except to order all of your chefs around or bring the children of yours not currently gestating within to you when you wanted to see them or they wanted to see you, marveling at the mountain of a woman your husband had turned you into, knowing that there would be twice as many of them as there are now. Your pleasure was completely at the mercy of your husband, something that actually got you turned on more than you thought it would. You needed him, and he needed you.

Time went both slow and fast for you. Slow enough for you to savor being trapped underneath a boulder of a belly and an avalanche of fat, but it was still too fast for you, knowing that it would all be over in just a few months. You wanted to be this pregnant forever, not wanting to shrink back down ever again. You just wanted to keep a gaggle of children inside of you forever, growing ever larger for all eternity, but you knew that wasn't possible. That thought kept you going during the rare instances when your husband wasn't waiting on you sexually, which you needed constantly. It's a nice fantasy, but it couldn't be made into reality. Or could it?

That thought would have to be set aside for now, though. You had finally arrived at your due date, and just like the last three times, nary a contraction had graced your uterus. Your stomach, hard as a rock even with all that fat on it, surged thirty feet above your head. You were truly nothing but a machine designed for glutting on fattening food and making babies. A complete lack of self control when it came to food and sex got you here, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it, nor did you want to. You were in horny delirium at all waking hours, your babies growing fat in your womb making you wonder how much more food you could stuff into yourself, the hormones they controlled making you salivate at the thought of wiping an all-you-can-eat buffet bare, a one-woman swarm of locusts. And this was all your husband's doing, your mind being manipulated to this extent to crave both food and sex at all hours of the day, and all because he stuck his dick inside you & fertilized you with his seed. Forget about a human termite queen, you were way past that at this point. Your gargantuan body filled with babies took up almost a third of your room now, but still you wanted to get even larger, consequences be damned! A ton came and went. You were more than 2,000 lbs. of breeding sow filled with babies making your bed groan under your weight whenever you moved slightly or even whenever one of your children kicked inside of you. The loss of not hearing the floorboards creek underneath your girth whenever you waddled around more pregnant than ever was more than made up for by this. And it was only going to get better.

The time for your customary induction two weeks after your due date had arrived, and you were somehow even more massive than before. You grew more quickly in that time than you ever had before, your belly rounding out to a total of thirty-three feet thrusting above your head and gorging yourself up to a long ton. You were physically ready to give birth, but not mentally. Not that you weren't mentally prepared for the struggle of giving birth, that wasn't it. Unlike the last three times, you weren't mentally prepared to stop being pregnant. You didn't want to know of anything else but pregnancy, constantly growing until the end of time. You had to figure out how to make that happen, Lord knows you've already accomplished the impossible with a quadragintuplet pregnancy and reaching a weight never once held by a human being before. But right now, your body had to get those kids out of you, and you brought forty new wonderful lives into the world.

Lying there, exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth and just there no being not exhausted from being so fat, you were already thinking about how you were going to get knocked up again, and this time permanently.

Fin

I have reached my ultimate form as a 1 ton baby factory🥵🥵🥵

[luna-baby01]

You're now 36 weeks pregnant with sextuplets and it's time for your 8 month checkup. You haven't left the house in weeks because you're just too pregnant to waddle more than a few steps, but we have to find a way to get you to the OBGYN's office. The first ordeal is dressing you. You outgrew even your XXXL maternity clothes by week 30, so all we can do is try to cover enough of your fat, swollen body to keep you decent. Your engorged watermelon breasts have grown too big for all of your nursing bras, even the custom made P cup bra is too painful for your swollen, constantly leaking udders. You beg me to take it off as soon as you're strapped into it, and I have no choice when I see how much you're struggling to breathe. We finally just squeeze you into a large, stretchy dress. It's a struggle just to get it on, and by the end you're sweating and panting heavily. It manages to cover your boobs, but stops a quarter of the way down your tremendous belly, digging into the layer of fat coating it and not making it anywhere close to your butt. I stuff some heavy-duty milk pads down your cleavage, but I know by the time we get home you'll have completely soaked them through.

You realize panties are completely out of the question when your fat hips burst your two largest pairs. I pull out your largest, stretchiest pair of yoga shorts and pray that they won't just split over your butt, which had grown preposterously large from your body storing away pounds and pounds of fat to grow your brood. Pulling on the shorts is a several minute ordeal. I stretch them up over your thighs and ass an inch at a time, careful not to rip them, as I stuff handfuls of soft cellulite into the straining waistband.

The shorts miraculously make it all the way on without tearing. They're so inadequate compared to your colossal ass that they resemble underwear or a swimsuit bottom more than shorts. They dig painfully into your tender cellulite and show off huge swathes of your stretch mark ridden flesh, but they'll have to do.

You're exhausted and in pain, and now the babies are kicking hard, disturbed by the struggle of getting you dressed. But the ordeal is just beginning, now you have to somehow find a way to waddle your fat body all the way to the car...

[luna-baby01]

What is your ideal pregnant woman? How tall? body shape? Belly growth? all of that stuff.

Hmmm ideal. Id say an ideal pregnancy would be a woman who becomes "all belly". A belly so big and round and so exceptionally heavy and burdensome you wonder how she gets around at all. Women who are on the shorter side and are carrying multiples tend to have bellies that look like they defy gravity. Huge, round, tight, and abruptly jutting out from their small frame. Back dramatically arched to carry so much weight. A woman like that id love to see go overdue. Bigger is always better.

[luna-baby01]

"Honey, you need to keep eating, you know you need 5,000 calories a day for the babies. You want them to be big and healthy when they're born, right? Now finish your pasta and then have one more milkshake, and you'll be all done."

She can barely chew and swallow, fighting her body's desperate signals that there is no more room in her stomach, not with her crammed gut and six big babies in her womb. Finally she sucks down the last of the milkshake and all she can do is let out a massive moan of relief.

"You did it baby, I'm so proud of you. Now lie down so I can rub your belly."

I lovingly caress her heaving, misshapen bump as she breathes heavily and groans in discomfort. I can feel the straining tightness underneath her soft layer of fat. Our brood is mercifully still, pacified by the enormous meal.

"You're doing such a good job honey. You're being so strong and brave for our babies. Now get some rest, it'll be time to eat again in a few hours."

[luna-baby01]

Surprised there's any room left in the dress!

[luna-baby01]

Imagine being full term with octuplets at your friend’s BBQ, what’s supposed to be your last outing before you have your babies, and you go into rapid, aggressive labor, falling to the ground with your massive belly towering over you. They’ve called an ambulance but you’ve already started pushing, screaming it’s coming! IT’S COMING!! as your panties tent outward with the first head. People are standing around you, watching as this grotesquely pregnant breeder is stretched wide by large babies. Someone reaches down and tears your panties off, just in time for you to roar through the push that squeezes the large baby out between your legs. But it’s not over— you’re immediately pushing again, the second of eight babies barreling through you, your naked pussy bulging again, your engorged breasts seeping milk through the top of your dress. You scream, the baby spreads you, you birth it, only to continue pushing as the third head descends. The babies are pouring out of you, your consciousness forced to experience birth after endless birth, your voice howling as everyone you know watches you birth an obscene pile of babies in front of them. By the time the ambulance arrives, the paramedics see you crowning the last of the babies before you give one final grunt and it flops out of you next to its siblings. You’re panting heavily and covered in fluids, but finally done.

[luna-baby01]

[luna-baby01]

You're overdue with triplets and your belly is so swollen with your babies that you can barely move without assistance. Grunting and moaning as you constantly attempt to soothe the tightness, an intense fullness that won't seem to go away.

Like, anything that has “Barely move without assistance” is amazing to me🥵

More babies tho!😍

[luna-baby01]

Holy fucking shit🥵🥵🥵

This is so hot its absurd!!

The sight of a pregnant belly can elicit a range of feelings. People might offer congratulations, think it's cute or even beautiful depending on how far along you are, or express sympathy if it looks heavy. The usual reaction to your belly, however, is shock--followed by disbelief, scandal, or outright horror. And who can really blame them? You're pushing around your belly in a wheelbarrow, all three of its wheels squeaking as you trundle along.

It's not the most elegant of mobility aids, but it is the cheapest thing that suits your needs. Everything else is either too small or too flimsy. You have a boulder of flesh hanging off of you! Altogether several hundred pounds of babies, amniotic fluid, and fat. Your belly fills every square inch of cold steel, and is now spilling over the sides! The front of your belly is actually beginning to sag over the lip. It's exhausting to push around. Your thighs and arms have built up necessary muscle, but it's all buried underneath layers of swaying flab, making you appear even more corpulent. That your whole body wobbles and jiggles with each laborious step that you take, only adds to your obscenity.

Your every dimension is absurd. Each of your thighs is thicker around than a man's torso. Just as your belly extends far out in front of you, your ass sticks out far enough that someone else could probably balance atop those cheeks… provided they don't fall into the crevice and end up smothered, lost with all your panties. Your breasts have grown in proportion with your belly and filled with milk, so much so that they slosh whenever you move… although, it's hard to tell actually whether you're hearing the gallons of milk or the gallons of amniotic fluid in your womb. Add on top of that the constant churning and bubbling of your beleaguered digestive system, as it attempts to break down a party's worth of food. Between your swollen stomach, clogged intestines, and balloon of a womb, you have to fight for every lung full of air since they can't properly expand. And with all the effort you're putting in just to move about, your skin glistens with sweat, the smell of which mingled with the hormonal musk that wafts from your crotch. Because even at this ludicrous size, stretched beyond what should be humanly possibly, you are oh so horny. Your swollen clit is constantly rubbing against the underside of your belly, so little moans are constantly tumbling out of your mouth, adding to the noise you generate. The simple act of moving is both exhausting and arousing to you. No wonder you trigger such powerful disgust.

Not that you care, or really notice. Your brain is abuzz with lightning, a myriad of sensations that come with being so very, very pregnant. The jostling of countless babies inside you, that feeling of fullness from being so very full, the burning need between your legs, the itchiness of your stretched skin, the aching fullness of your tits, all this and more, you haven't any mind to spare on the prejudice of others. What you want, what you need is all that matters. You lumber forth, pushing your wheelbarrow, heading toward... food? Sex? Somewhere comfortable to lay down? No one bothers to ask. They just move out of your way, quick to return to their own business, eager to put you out of mind. But of course, you're so vast that you're going to occupy their thoughts anyways, impossible to budge...

[luna-baby01]

You had been dreaming of pregnancy for as long as you could remember. Not mere pregnancy. That was too basic for you. No, you desired more than just pregnancy. You wanted to be absolutely stuffed with new life, growing huge, beyond reason if that was what it took. You wanted to waddle, to turn heads in public, to soil shirts with your leaking nipples, to feel the loving kicks and squirms of your brood from within you. To calm them with gentle belly rubs... It was the thing you wanted more than anything. However, you knew that dream would probably never come true, at least not like that.

You woke up one day feeling a little ill, but you thought nothing of it. You hadn't had sex in months and it was probably just nerves. Then came the late period, then another, followed by a gentle swell in your lower abdomen that began to balloon out considerably after only 2 months. Several tests and a doctor's appointment later, you discover the truth: somehow, seemingly overnight, your dream had come true. You were miraculously pregnant! And you weren't just carrying one. Oh no, your doctor was shocked to announce that you were carrying SEXTUPLETS! Your doctor was shocked, but internally you were screaming, not from fear but from pure ecstasy.

It seems dreams really can come true after all...

God if only it was that easyyyy!😩😩😩