My new mom bod is definitely mom bodin’ 😅 I traded in my big ole bump for these milky tatas and now I’m fantasizing about making lactation content hot 🥵
One last batch of morphs that I was able to find, including a few higher-resolution versions of some that were already posted.
So by my count, we now have about 852 of the original 909 (or so) Cahabent uploads archived here, or about 93%. Which means there are still at least 57 morphs out there unaccounted for.
Regarding the angle in the before, I don´t have much to compare to with sitting on the side, so this was the best I could come up with.
The before is from 2021 when she was promoting seaon 2 of Beleza GG and the other was from 2023 ofcourse, in 2021 she was already well into her regain.
I was about to say what has Mayara been eating, but I think we already know.
I've got new pics & content that I'll share with you guys next week, including a new video coming out Monday!
But for now, a B&A. It's funny how in just a year, I went from being able to hide my belly in this corset, to not being able to hide it at all. 😳
Snap from her IG stories where she brags about losing a fair amount of weight with the aid of her personal trainer.
She looks good here. This seems like a good weight for her to stay at but chances are she’s going to go the Kelly Clarkson route and be noticeably smaller.
The Italian summer: The Kelly Brook Tale"
Kelly Brook, her name echoing the British airwaves as a popular radio moderator along with her widespread recognition as an admirable model, was delighted for summer. Known for her voluptuous curves enhanced further by her big boobs, she had always been conscious of her weight. For maintaining her ideal weight balance, she had always trusted one brand - Slim Fast. It helped her stay in shape and keep her weight stable.
However, her curvier body was appreciated by her fans worldwide. They found their beloved model more attractive and stunning. Her curves screamed beauty and confidence.
With summer in full swing, Kelly planned a four-week vacation at her husband's family farm in Italy. Lounging on the poolside in her bikini absorbed in the beauty of the landscape, she surrendered herself to the tempting Italian cuisine. Days slipped into nights and delicious pasta, creamy tiramisu, and luscious wines trickled down her throat.
She didn't realize her escalating weight until the tenth day when she found herself 15 pounds heavier. But it didn't bother her much - she was confident in shedding off the extra weight with Slim Fast and gym workouts. A trip to the beach was on her agenda where her bikini felt a bit tight, the cups overflowing slightly.
As the vacation ended, Kelly had gained an additional 30 pounds. Pictures of a rounder Kelly sitting on a lounger with a big ** of ice-cream started to flood the media. The paparazzi had a bash of a day with their cameras clicking incessantly.
After her arrival back home, a routine weight check startled her – She had gained almost 50 pounds, dangerously close to the 200 pounds mark. No time was wasted. Large quantities of Slim Fast were ordered and her gym bag was packed right away.
The gym experience, however, was disillusioning. Her old sports outfit struggled to fit her altered figure, the shorts refusing to glide over her thicker thighs. She was already panting and sweating from the mere attempt of dressing up. To calm herself down, she grabbed a chocolate bar from her bag.
The locker room filled with women gossiped and giggled comparing the rounder Kelly from her earlier pictures. Chat about old Page 3 pictures filled the air. The sight of visibly rounder Kelly, her belly resting on her thighs, love handles around her sides, and a belly eclipsed by the biggest boobs some of them had ever seen, filled the room with an unexpected sense of glee.
Just then, her mobile rang. It was her manager. "Hey Kel! Hope you enjoyed your holidays, but it's time for business! Your calendar shooting starts this Friday and we've bagged a sponsor for bikinis and bathing suits. Remember the 20 pounds I had asked you to lose? I hope it went well. And by the way, I ordered your outfits in a size 'S'."
Kelly's face drained of all color, replaced by a ghastly pale. The room swirled around her, and she fainted.
The challenges of her italian summer awaited her.
Hillary Duff yawned as the early morning sun peeked in through the windows of her opulent suite at a luxury resort in Hawaii. The sultry actress had been indulging in her love for food and relaxation during her holidays, a little too much maybe. Her approach towards exercise had been rather relaxed as well, with hours spent luxuriating on the beach or indulging in the local cuisine, clearly outnumbering the gym hours. From Kalua pork to Loco Moco; every traditional Hawaiian dish had landed on her plate. With no second thoughts, Hillary Duff was living high on the Hawaiian hog.
As her stay extended, her custom-designed bikinis began to groan under the strain of 35 pounds of extra weight. The designer creations, once a flattering fit, now appeared to be in a constant war with her bouncy curves, especially with that now notoriously tight bikini top. Her closed eyes opened suddenly as she remembered, with a pang of dread, that she was booked for a bikini and bathing shoot soon after the holidays. Every bite thereafter, was tinged with guilt, every sight of the bikini in her baggage, a subtle reminder of the impending disaster. She knew with impending dread that her holiday gains might just trigger turbulence in the wardrobe department.
Right after her holiday ended and she returned to work, the meltdown was indeed as bad as she predicted. The girls in the wardrobe department were fuming, murmuring under their breath as they nervously adjusted and readjusted the significantly 'scaled-up' Hillary in her costumes. "Bikinis too tight", they muttered, under their breath as they toiled with pins and threads, racing against time. Despite their best efforts, the reality was harsh, Hillary Duff had gloriously outgrown her ordered size. Each stride was a battle and each twirl, a disaster waiting to unfold. Even as they wrestled to pull up the tight bikini bottoms, it was clear that Hillary was in monumental discomfort.
Next on the docket were the bathing suits, a particular source of stress, given their unforgiving form. Sweat began to trickle down their foreheads as they corralled the ever-challenging bulges. A bright gleam in one of the girl's eyes signified hope. She remembered Hillary’s secret weapon - her post-pregnancy shape wear, which proved to be an absolute godsend during her second and third pregnancies. Rallying their energy, they struggled to pull up the shapewear, but a collective sigh of relief echoed in the room as it slid into place. Suddenly, the bathing suit didn't appear as much of an enemy. Still incredibly snug, but somehow more reasonable. The victory, however, was short-lived. Hillary, having sucked in her breath and squeezed her body, was visibly uncomfortable and needed an immediate breather.
With grace and good humor, she sank back into her chair.
A massive assortment of confections arrayed out in front of her - donuts glazed, sprinkled, filled and frosted, all a temptation too significant to ignore. With a sigh of abandon, she reached and began to indulge and the weariness seeped away with each sugary bite. After devouring half the sugary spread, a feeling of complacency settled within her. She felt her overfilled stomach pulses under the tight girdle she wore. She pushed herself out of the chair, unhurriedly, waddling towards the full-length mirror standing majestically in the corner of the room. The mirror showed a woman in shapewear, midriff generously bulging despite the stiff resistance from her fading waist cincher. Hillary pulled herself together, sucked her belly in, and charged towards the old factory turned walkway, not allowing herself the chance to overthink, merely focusing on one foot in front of the other. The runway seemed to stretch further than ever.
Lights blazed down from the overhead gantries, accentuating her figure and creating a shimmer off her bathing suit. Fighting for breath, she held her pose at the end of the runway for what felt like an eternity before she made the long unforgiving trek back. Finally reaching backstage, breathless, she let her belly relax. The tension released with a deafening snap as the shapewear yielded, giving way. As the once daunting garment drooped at her feet, her bathing suit followed suit. The entire backstage fell into stunned silence except for some stifled snickers. But Hillary didn’t falter. Her face flushed strawberry against her marble skin, full with embarrassment and humiliation, but she didn’t let it overshadow her spirit. Stripping everything back, she stood there in her unadulterated fullness: Red-cheeked, curvaceous not only in chest and buttock, belly pronounced, round, and proud.
A Challenge Called Change The morning sun bloomed over the cluttered Los Angeles skyline, its golden rays bathing the city in a warm, inviting glow. Deep in the heart of this bustling metropolis, protected within the confines of her luxurious penthouse, Hillary Duff was waking up to a reality that hit harder than the strongest cup of Italian espresso - She had put on 40 pounds. As she stood in front of the expansive wall mirror, she scrutinised herself critically. Her reflection was an echo of her surprise, the cloaked sadness hidden behind her shock couldn't be ignored. Hillary pinched her cheeks, gently patted her rounder midriff, and stared at her voluptuous figure in shocked disbelief. It couldn't be - but the numbers on the scale didn't lie. She was inching towards 180 pounds.
The sudden chime of the doorbell shook her from her reverie. With a sigh, she pulled on her ever-comfortable pair of jogging pants and a baggy sweater, which seemed to have lost its spaciousness overnight. As she begrudgingly tiptoed towards the door, her mind was already forming a plan, the seeds of an idea urging her forward. The delivery man standing outside seemed oblivious to her turmoil. He handed over a delicate garment bag. "Got a delivery for Ms. Duff," he mumbled. "It's the dress for the Oscar show." Hillary barely heard his parting words as she gingerly held the ominous bag. Inside lay her Oscar gown, a masterpiece custom-made for size S Hillary. Her heart sank as the reality of her situation fully dawned upon her. Once the vision of perfection, she now bore more resemblance to a suburban soccer mom than a glamorous Hollywood starlet. Was it even possible to drop to her old weight of 130 pounds in just 10 days? Her stomach chose this moment to growl loudly, echoing her thoughts.
Desperate, Hillary did what any fashion diva would - she rang her trusted fashion expert and aired her weighty problem over the phone. He immediately commanded that she be in his shop the following morning at 10. He was an expert, after all, and was no stranger to dramatic Hollywood requests. The following morning, Hillary found herself in front of her vast, well-filled wardrobe, battling with her pair of jeans. She tugged and pulled, but the stubborn denim was resolute, it wouldn't budge past her thighs. Dejected, she rummaged through her closet, desperate to find her old pregnancy clothes, hoping they could salvage the situation. But alas, her woes were far from over. Even her once over-sized pair of pregnancy jeans refused to button up. Running late, she gave up battling her wardrobe and opted for her snug, belly-hugging sweater to mask her midriff problem. On her way to the fashion store, the wicked growl of her stomach led her to the luminous beacon of fast food - a McDonalds Drive-in. She ordered a hearty breakfast, her belly bloated further, lifting her sweater and shamelessly revealing her unbuttoned jeans. As she arrived at the upscale fashion store, a group of merciless paparazzi were lying in wait for her. Discreetly, they captured her fuller figure. The next day, the rumor mill buzzed with news of a promising new addition to the Duff-Comrie family tree – yet another unexpected headache for Hillary.
Inside the store, the fashion expert’s minions swarmed around Hillary. Her cheeks turned scarlet as they ordered her to strip down. Embarrassed yet defiant, she stood there, a pale, chubby beacon of humanity surrounded by judgmental eyes and measuring tapes. Despite the awkwardness, she took the bodyshaming head-on, a testament to her fortitude. After a long day of tiptoeing around her insecure self, Hillary finally had the necessary weapon – a set of heavy-duty shapewear and an up-sized dress. The expert advised her to cut back on the food and hit the gym, promising her that the garments would be ready for the upcoming Oscar Awards. Time goes by, but the gym remained unvisited and her appetite, unchecked. The demands of her job and her children made it impossible for her to adhere to the weight-loss plan. She managed to get through her everyday challenges clothed in baggy dresses while her body continued to blossom, adding another 10 pounds unbeknownst to her.
Beads of perspiration lined her forehead as she squinted at her reflection in the mirror; it was the Day of Truth. To help navigate her through this climacteric day, she called upon the expertise of her long trusted team - two skilled stylists and a veteran makeup artist. As her chauffer drove her through the side-entrance of the building, the pulsating anxiety in her heart doubled. The stylists and makeup artist awaited her, their faces mirrored her concern and trepidation. “Timely as ever, Miss Hillary," the senior stylist, Peggy, voiced her patent compliment every time their paths crossed. Hillary smiled weakly, opening the doors of the spacious wardrobe arena. The battle of transformation began with the stylists readying her silhouette. The sheer shapewear was a struggle to squeeze into, fighting against Hillary's contours, molding her body into something significantly sleeker, albeit a tad suffocating. Panting, she met herself in the mirror once again. The woman staring back no longer resembled the Hillary she encountered that morning. She was slimmer yet eerie in her discomfort. Next was the task of concealing the beads of sweat trickling down her face. Elizabeth, her long trusted makeup artist, had just the fix. The strokes of the brush were careful and easing. With a dab of foundation here and a contour stroke there, Hillary's slightly bloated face seemed to shrink, hiding her double chin magically.
Lastly, the pièce de résistance was brought forth - an enchanting gown in the season’s resplendent hues. With a collective breath, both stylists pulled at the fabric to close the rebellious back zipper. Hillary lost all colour in her face, sucking in her belly. Groaning and moaning, on the brink of tears, she held on until finally, the zipper came together. She was finally clothed in the grandeur her social status commanded. In fear of damaging the hour-long labour, Hillary's stylists urged her to maintain distance from any form of sugar-loaded indulgence. The warning lightened the tension in Hillary’s eyes. Elizabeth, having done an exceptional job at makeup, was called for one final touch. The sweaty ordeal had taken a minor toll on Hillary's makeup which was quickly fixed. The shoes followed, their six inches providing the final dash of elegance. Hillary Duff, the revered socialite, was finally ready. Silhouetted against her own giant shadow, she stepped into the grand foyer, sparkling like a queen in her bejeweled attire, ready to embrace this Day of Truth. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, each beat echoing the impending truth she had awaited so earnestly. This was her moment of reckoning, her day of truth. As Hillary made her way to the heart of the hustle and bustle of the grand stage, the magnitude of this day hit her.
All eyes were on Hillary, not just because of the nomination for "Best Actress" but also for her sudden gain of the infamous fifty pounds. The Hollywood divas were known for their tiny waists and pronounced hipline, unlike our protagonist. Hillary had always been the trendsetter, donning exquisite gowns from renowned designers. Tonight, she wore a crimson stunner, skillfully stitched to hide her bulges and lumps. Strapped in high heels, her knees screamed in protest as they carried the burden of her body. She walked into the grand hall, the roar of applause echoing around her. The camera flashes burned and dimmed, capturing her ever-smiling face and wide, strained eyes in a multitude of pixels. At first glance, none could tell about the pain she was concealing beneath the laughter and her perfectly delivered one-liners. Exhausted, she tried to steal moments of rest, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath as silently as possible while flashing her stardom smile at the passing audience. The sea of eager interviewers descended upon her. Throughout the talking, laughing, and responding, Hillary had forgotten one detail. She hadn't eaten for two days. It was a desperate attempt to look less bloated, less out of place in the spectacle that was the Oscars. As the last interviewer chuckled at her joke about a movie, her stomach lurched. The echoing growl turned all heads to her, their smiles frozen. Her face flamed with embarrassment, her hands instinctively clutching at her stomach. But the seasoned actress in her didn't flinch. Instead, she raised her hand and laughed, "Seems my stomach wants to give a speech too!" It was the humor she was known for. Any awkwardness dissipated as laughter filled the room.
Soon, it was time for the dinner gala. The Oscars dinner, the proverbial walk in a lion's den. The room glittered with the glamourous world's residents, their lustrous gowns gleaming under the chandeliers. Hillary took her seat discreetly beside the dazzling Kendall Jenner, who hardly seemed to acknowledge her. Hillary, she felt like a foreign body; out of place in this world of stick-thin supermodels and svelte actresses. As the night plunged forward, courses were served, and the chatter of Hollywood filled the room. The main feature of the evening was about to be served; the dessert. The thin waif of a server plonked a heavy-sugar concoction in front of Hillary, blowing a farewell kiss at her diet. On her left, Kendall turned around, revealing a glint in her eyes. "You should try mine," she offered, an innocently sinister strategy, sliding her untouched dessert towards Hillary. Hillary could hardly protest. She heard the tempting whisper of the cherry truffle cake, seductively beckoning. Riddled with dread, yet unable to resist, she apprehensively agreed. But after relishing the sweet escapade, the unavoidable happened - she felt uncomfortably full.
Attempting to casually hide her discomfort, Hillary reached for her handbag, aiming to refresh her makeup. That's when the proverbial button popped. With a loud rip, her girdle gave way in protest to the added strain. The sound echoed in the room, commanding an uncalled-for attention. As Hillary turned a deathly pale, her overstuffed body rebounded into her dress, recklessly tearing the seams of the glamorously delicate gown. Buttons flew across the room, one landing on a shocked Kendall Jenner, who let out a startled squeal. All around the room, gasps filled the air as Hillary slumped back into her chair, her plump figure now out in the open. The once form-fitting dress hung in tatters, exposing the unvarnished reality for what she was; normal, overweight, yet charmingly real. Her stomach protruded over her not-so-petite chest. Hips almost trapped in the seat. A young, skinny actress, a standard bearer of the beauty template, sniggered and nonchalantly passed her dessert to Hillary, a final blow to what was already a disastrous evening. Overwhelmed and horrified, Hillary fainted, ending the dreadful night prematurely. Paramedics were called in to carry Hillary out, a sight that none in attendance would forget in the years to come.
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