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I have an entire photo set up in the Clip Store, for anyone interested:

My nickname is Choux (like cream puffs heehee) Hime (Princess in Japanese). You can call me whatever you like, as long as it's cute lol I'm just a cute girl who enjoys cooking and playing video games (I prefer RPG but I'm learning to play Overwatch lol) Over the past year, I've been buying lots of cute lingerie and ero-kawaii cosplay and enjoy taking photos and videos in them. My confidence has really skyrocketed and I'm excited to share that progress here♡ Nice to meet you all! (i'm currently v into tacky y2k edits, don't judge lol)

Gula. Acedia. (by Czechfeeder) Adele stretched out sleepily in bed. It was almost ten o'clock in the morning and she still couldn't get used to not being woken up. Richard, her husband, had left a week ago for a six-month internship in the United States and suddenly Adele had a new life. "And much more pleasant," thought Adele. Richard was a stickler and a stickler for detail. Sometimes she felt that he treated her like a little girl. He planned her time, told her what to cook, even gave her advice on dressing. The cycle of work, squash, gym, shopping and cooking, laundry. Over and over again. Before the wedding and in the early years of the marriage, this suited her submissive nature perfectly, but in the last few weeks it was fatigue. She felt like a cog in a clock, an insignificant worker in a giant anthill. To rest, she took a two-week sabbatical from work. And she enjoyed it. The first week she did nothing at all. She lounged in bed, read and occasionally downloaded a movie from the internet. She skipped gym and squash, indulging in all the treats Richard forbade her to eat: fried food, chips, chocolate, the occasional dessert. She kept it from Richard unconsciously. She knew how obsessed he was with her slim figure, so she made an excuse about her illness in the first week. He communicated with her via skype and even gave instructions remotely. It was annoying. One day he even noticed a bit of tartar sauce stuck to her chin. She told him it was low-fat yogurt. Other days, the jet lag allowed her to pretend she was going to work. Plus, she made the excuse that she had accidentally deleted her Skype and couldn't fix it, so their communication was limited to email. She was enjoying her last few days off and mentally preparing to return to work. During the week of lounging she had gained almost two pounds, but she knew that after a few hours of aerobics and Zumba she would be back down to her 68 kg weight. She wasn't looking forward to it at all, she loved lounging in bed. She clicked on Richard's email. He was describing his life and work, and of course he had his favourite topic: "American women are usually fat as pigs, you better go work out twice a day so you don't grow an ass. And skip dinner!" At that moment, something inside her broke. She's not going to do his bidding anymore, she's going to teach him a lesson. She's not going to work out for six months on her own. And she'll eat whatever she wants. She'll see that she doesn't have to obey him in everything and that she can do what she wants. The thought filled her with a strange excitement. On the one hand, a pleasant feeling flooded her, coupled with the idea that she wouldn't have to police herself in her eating. But she was also flushed with the knowledge that she would be doing this behind Richard's back and how furious he would be when he found out. How would he probably look? She decided she would enjoy the last three days of lazing around. She didn't even feel like going shopping, so she ordered a bunch of treats and litres of Coke online. That night she overate for the first time in a long time. She lay on her back in bed, watching TV and enjoying the feeling. She didn't fall asleep until after midnight, groggy from the unusual dose of sugar. She felt like a **. When she woke up the next morning, she remembered that sweet feeling again and realized she had enough food to bring it on again. And the upside was that she was in no danger of a hangover from overeating. All she had to do was wait for it to come off. And stuff herself again. She replied to Richard's email ("Yes, I work out every day, I'm busy, I send my kisses."), rolled into bed and reached for a bag of chips. Two days passed in the blink of an eye. By Sunday night, all the food was gone and the scale showed her at 72 kilos. She wrote an email to Richard describing her exercises and diet. Then she ordered four large pizzas and decided to celebrate her last day off. Two hours later, she was lying on her side on the couch, totally overfed. And she still had almost half her order left. She imagined the look on Richard's face. She grunted in pleasure. She ran her hand into her crotch, feeling how wet she was. She shoved another slice of pizza into her mouth and began to masturbate. In the morning, she called in sick to work. The next call was to the order service. She spent the next 14 days the same way. She spent the whole day lying in bed in front of the TV, eating and masturbating. Her weight jumped to 77 kilograms and her panties began to dig into her waist. Her metabolism, accustomed for years to an active lifestyle, began to store the calories consumed on her body. In her emails to Richard, she kept writing about her work and detailing her visits to the gym. She found a kind of perverse pleasure in it. Like overeating. She indulged in it at least once daily. The feeling of lying completely stuffed in bed was, in her opinion, the best thing in the world. She wondered if she felt that way herself and found a site on the internet about chubby girls. She devoured with interest the profiles of several fat girls. She was amazed to find that there were many paid sites where girls were getting fat for money. And she found some of the fattening stories so sexy that she longed to become one of the heroines. The next week, two things happened: she fattened up to 80 kilograms and was fired from her job for absenteeism. And then she started to run out of money. Richard was a tightwad and so sent her a small amount each month to supplement her salary. And she couldn't have asked for more, because she kept emailing him about going to work, exercising, and the occasional spoonful of yogurt. Richard's return was still more than four months away and she wanted to enjoy it. And teach him a lesson. "Just enjoy it," she thought to herself, her hand stroking the fat kidney that had settled on her belly. The 10 pounds she had gained in two months filled her with intense excitement. Her ass had grown, her breasts, even her arms and thighs were softer and somehow more supple to the touch. She sat down at her computer and typed an ad on a chubby forum, "Maybe my idea is a bit utopian, but I would like to find a solvent man and a feeder in one person. I am a submissive and perpetually hungry handsome fatty who is looking for a longer term pampering relationship. More via email... " Within two days, her email had gathered nearly 50 replies. She sorted out the ones she wasn't attracted to and prepared for her first visit. Over the next week, she met with 20 of the most interesting candidates, from which she selected the top 6. She felt like she was on some twisted reality show. Each one was totally different from the others. But they all had one thing in common: they liked that she was getting fat. And they were ready to help her. On Monday morning, Mark came in. The butcher, a man as strong as a bull. During several trips to and from the car he filled her fridge with steaks, cold cuts, salami, sausages, tripe, in short, everything she could get a craving for during the week. He then watched with tenderness in his eyes as the grease from the mutton dripped down her greasy chin onto her breasts. They had rounded out nicely in the last few days, stretching every shirt to bursting. He watched in silence for hours as she gorged herself on the meaty delicacies and washed them down with beer. When she was so full she was unable to move, he kissed her on the forehead and left. Adéla was so stuffed and dazed from the excess of food and beer after his visit that she fell asleep immediately. And in the morning she was awakened by Ruda and Zdeněk, professional cooks. All day and night they prepared the meals she wanted. With only one rule: what she ordered, she had to eat. They took turns in the kitchen and in her bed without any sign of jealousy. Only when she was so full that she was unable to swallow a bite and the skin on her stomach was painfully tight did they both engage in sexual play. She slept like the dead after such a shift until Wednesday evening when Tomas rang the doorbell. He was young and handsome. And he treated her like a **. He asked her what she wanted, then ordered food over the phone. He waited in silence until she'd eaten everything, then made love to her. I have to say, he ordered really big portions and she often had trouble eating them all. Then she was lying overstuffed in bed and Tomas threw a crumpled wad of bills at her feet. But a big wad. Thursday was a day of cleaning. Majka, a matronly woman in her forties, arrived dressed as a maid and cleaned her entire apartment. Adela wasn't allowed to lift a finger. She lay in bed all day and Majka jumped all over her. At the same time, she washed, ironed and cleaned the apartment. Every now and then she would hand Adéla a Nutella bread, a bag of sweets or a bar of chocolate with an innocent smile. In the afternoons, Adéla was often more overfed than when Rudy and Zdeněk visited. At the moment when she couldn't move anymore Majka rushed at her like a typhoon and the fingers and tongue of the experienced woman sent Adéla to heaven sometimes six times in a row. Martin was a handyman and on Fridays he decorated her apartment. He also cooked. Not as good as Ruda and Zdenek, but hearty. And happy. He was a fun companion. And an experienced feeder. He taught her how to fatten up with whiskey and cognac. And he brought her **, which greatly increased her appetite. And with Martin, it was necessary. This was where she learned her limits. He fed her personally and lovingly, but uncompromisingly. Often she was literally whimpering from her overfed belly, but he would shove another hamburger or tub of ice cream into her mouth without mercy. His visits often stretched into Saturday night, when she spent most of that time overfed to the max. Sundays were spent alone in bed, munching and relaxing. Accustomed to the huge food intake, she would fall asleep in the evening feeling hungry and looking forward to Monday morning. After the first fortnight she had put on nearly six kilograms, and after another two weeks another eight. Her breasts had grown two sizes, her thighs had become so thick that she was unable to stuff them into her pants. Her belly had ballooned out of her soft tummy into a plump white doughy gut that spilled over the waistband of her skirt. Lying on her back, she couldn't see her toes through them. Satisfied in bed, she patted it with one hand while the other drummed out an email to Richard: ...I'm busy right now and there's a new Zumba trainer at the gym. Very good... She hit 100 the next month. The chefs had baked her a cake and, to her own surprise, she had managed to seduce Mark. All she had to do was lie on her back, overfed, massage her fat belly with her hands and ask him with an innocent expression: "How big do you think my belly will be when I weigh fifty kilos more?" Mark turned out to be an attentive and gentle lover, remarkably shy considering his appearance. A few days later she realized that four months had passed since Richard's departure. In that time, she had gained nearly 40 kilograms. "No wonder," she thought. "I've become a well-fed, fattened fucking machine. Richard won't like that." She had become accustomed to her total laziness and gluttony, and it thrilled her to be a constantly overfed, fucked-up fat beauty. Richard's return was filling her partly with excitement at how unpleasantly surprised he would be and partly with fear at his reaction. Recently he had called her unexpectedly in the middle of Martin's visit. "Adele, please?" she murmured into the receiver, surprised. "Are you out of breath?" He asked. "I was just running on the treadmill, I texted you that I bought one," she replied breathlessly. "Ugh, that was close," she then said to herself. She was getting more and more nervous as his return approached. Knowing the end of her sweet life was approaching, she tried to enjoy every last drop. She met a masseur, Honza, on the internet who began massaging and, more importantly, feeding her on Wednesday morning. He lovingly kneaded her curves and folds while stuffing pastries into her mouth. She felt that as if every cupcake was turning right into more fat for her belly. Lack of exercise and constant overeating pushed her weight to 128 kilos a fortnight before Richard's return. Her breasts had grown to the size of grapefruits, her belly had begun to lose its battle with gravity and formed a fat lobe on the underside, her thighs squashing into each other when she walked occasionally, and her buttocks had grown into two giant balloons covered in cellulite. A week later she was approached by another sympathetic feeder, Daniel. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to see him again," she thought sadly. "Richard is coming back the day after tomorrow and I'm probably in for a spanking and definitely a hard diet. I've fattened up sixty pounds in six months, he's going to shit himself." She opened the email message with a chubby hand: "Adele, they've extended my stay, I'm not coming back for another six months. Richard." A stone fell from Adele's heart. "Ugh, I might be able to lose some weight in six months," she thought. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her t-shirt was desperately small and her belly was pushing out from underneath it. Her thighs and ass jiggled gently with every movement. She liked herself. And so did her feeders. She loved her idle life of food and sex. "Or I'll see how much weight I gain in the next six months", she smiled to herself. "And it'll give Richard a stroke." She dialed Daniel's number, "Hey, it's Adele, would you be available on Sundays during the weekends? Fine. Then I'll be expecting you at 11:00. Buy lots of burgers and Coke." (this was a wholly machine translation from the Czech original over at baculky.info thru deepL, with about a dozen words fixed manually)

“I always thought I could use a little time to work on myself, but this is getting ridiculous.” Emma had been under quarantine for seven tedious weeks. At first it felt like a vacation, but now she was going stir crazy. Emma had intentions of using her time wisely. As a firm yet flexible yoga instructor, she wanted to capitalize on her time off by building an online presence. Filming routines did not come easy to her. Ensuring that the lighting complemented her soft, flowing, strawberry blonde hair, while still glinting off the misty perspiration lining her defined abs was a trick she had yet to master. After many takes, she had neither the time nor energy to cook dinner. “Another night of takeout should be ok...”, Emma reassured herself. “Surely the relief funds will come soon.” She reluctantly rummaged through her purse, scrounging up her remaining savings. Emma’s reassurance soon proved to be in vain. Her relief check wasn’t nearly enough to last through the pandemic. Her online yoga studio was growing slowly, and she was getting desperate. She decided to call her friend Kevin, to see if he could help her. ”You know what, Emma? I know a talent agent for a diet pill company who pays good money for before and after weight loss shots. You’re always touting the weight loss benefits of your yoga routine, so why not put on a few pounds, lose it with the help of the pills, and use the money to beef up your yoga studio? Once yogis see your weight loss, they’ll be sure to pay you for advice! You’ll be rich! Of course, since I clued you in to this deal, I want a share of the profit when they pay up.” Emma wasn’t sure about this underhanded plot, but she was nearly broke. Besides, she’d been chubby before she started doing yoga. She was confident that she could lose the weight again. Reluctantly, she made the deal, on the condition that Kevin provide the diet pills and pay for her food. Kevin happily agreed. Unfortunately for Emma, there was no deal with a diet pill company. Kevin had always longed for Emma’s love, but she’d only ever put him in the friend zone, hitting him up for money and favors whenever she wanted. Now was his chance to get back at her! Kevin began delivering greasy bags of fast food to the former fitness model’s apartment. Each time, he would lace it with weight gain pills, ensuring Emma’s appetite would never fade. After only a week, the results were beginning to show. “Jesus, I didn’t think my ass could get so big!” Emma thought to herself, as she looked over her shoulder at the mirror. ”Even when I was chubby, I only had a little tummy and some love handles.” Two pearly white mounds of lard obscured a pair of ass cheeks that were once the firmest in her yoga studio. Since she stopped exercising, the only clothes that could stretch over her new girth were the very yoga pants she had been neglecting. The doorbell rang, unexpectedly. Emma looked out the window, and saw Kevin’s Jeep in the driveway. In a hurry, Emma tugged on her stretch pants, which inevitably snagged on the layer of cellulite caked onto her softened thighs. Not realizing how much she’d grown, Emma tugged again. She was rewarded by a loud rip, as the seem split along the inside of her fattened thigh. Humiliated, Emma sauntered bashfully to the door. On the way, she donned a hoodie, hoping it hung low enough to cover her wardrobe malfunction. As she approached the door, the smell of maple syrup and donuts wafted through the air. That took her mind off it. ”You’re early, Kev! Lunch isn’t usually til noon. I just finished the half dozen donuts you dropped off for breakfast.” Emma seemed bratty and annoyed, but it was just a show. The weight gain pills left her constantly famished. She had already opened the bag before she finished chiding Kevin, and was practically salivating over the pancakes within. “Change of plans, Em.” A coy smirk spread across Kevin’s face, as he stared knowingly at Emma’s torn yoga pants. “I showed the talent scouts some pictures of you, and they’re not happy. You need to get fatter. A lot fatter. You’ll be eating six meals a day from now on, until you’re at least 50 pounds heavier, maybe more.” “WHAT? I can’t handle that. I‘ll burst!” Emma pleaded, her hand reflexively rubbing her distended stomach. ”Look on the bright side!” Kevin scoffed, giving Emma’s belly a playful jab. “That tubby paunch of yours will poke out so far, It will keep everyone six feet away! That’s what I call social distancing! As Kevin’s Jeep rolled down the driveway, Emma’s jaw dropped wide open in shock. She ran inside, up the stairs to her bedroom, and flung off her hoodie. In a state of pure denial, she stood in the mirror, and told herself that her belly wasn’t THAT big! Her tits were still bigger. That’s what mattered. She knew that as long as her tits stuck out farther than her belly, then she was just curvy, not fat. She decided to prove to herself that she still had it. It was time to give those torn yoga pants one last hurrah! It was only at this moment, she realized how winded she was from just walking upstairs. Nonetheless, she attempted her old routine. “Hands together... umph... feet together...Emma breathlessly coached herself ...now bend down... and AHhh!” Emma collapsed helplessly under the weight of her gluttonous habits, careening to the floor. The impact sent a shockwave rippling from her newly sprouted double chin all the way to her pudgy toes, some of which were straining once loose toe rings. As she struggled to even sit up, she was simultaneously mesmerized and horrified at the rolls erupting from her formerly tone belly. They mocked her with their unmistakable folds. Huffing and puffing, she stroked back her blonde locks, which had become matted across her pudgy, ruddy cheeks. ”Those diet pills had better work,” Emma moaned in resignation. Cupping her voluptuous breasts and staring at the pancakes, still warm on her bedside table, she comforted herself by realizing at least her tits looked amazing these days. Besides, the smell of the food really lifted her spirits. She had barely finished the thick stack of syrupy, butter soaked pancakes before Kevin returned with a pizza. Emma knew she had to be nice to ”Kevvie,“ as she called him now, because now that she was too fat for yoga, his diet pills were her only way back to normalcy. She couldn’t afford her own pills because she was spending her precious resources on belly button rings and jewelry to adorn her expanding body. Why be thrifty when Kevvie’s plan would make her rich? Emma set her sights on ballooning up as quickly as possible, to appease the talent scouts. Of course, in the meantime, she might as well enjoy the food and delivery service to the fullest. And enjoy, she did! At the prime of her yoga career, her jawline tapered to an elegant, feminine chin. Over a month of constant stuffing, her cheeks swelled to the size of A cups. Her double chin hung low enough to nearly graze her pudgy neck. Watermelon-sized knockers hung heavily off her frame, overflowing any bra in her wardrobe. None of these new additions could distract from her biggest change. Her gut. It dominated the space atop titanic thighs that flooded her thigh gap. Due to the friction of her billowing lower body, her knees were constantly in a spread eagle formation as she lay like a beached whale on the sofa, mindlessly gorging herself at least six times a day. Emma became the consummate couch potato, as the 50 inch barrel of lard in her lap would attest. Stretch marks, ranging from delicate pink threads, to deep red rivers, scrawled across Emma’s perpetually exposed pudge. It wasn’t long before Kevvie just started walking into Emma’s apartment for feedings. With an ass wide enough to void the warranty on a lawn chair, Emma couldn’t be bothered to get up from her perch and open the door. At first, she’d reflexively tug the corner of her shirt down when Kevvie came around, but soon she grew accustomed to his comments. First she was a hungry piggy, then a greedy hog, and finally just cow. Not even Emma anymore, just an overfed pet. If the pet was done with her last meal when Kevvie arrived, she was rewarded with a gentle belly rub. If she was a bad piggy, then any remaining food was funneled down her greedy throat or slopped in a trough for her to finish on her knees. Kevin relished the sight of his pet’s udders and piggish pot belly nearly hanging the floor during these sessions. He’d be sure to pinch her back fat, or squeeze her ever exposed love handles, just to watch her jiggle and moan. One evening, through a mouth caked in frosting, Emma the Cow finally popped the question. “Hey Kevvie, -BURP-... am I fat enough? You keep saying the diet pill company wants me fatter. I gotta be getting close.” ”Heh, funny story, cow. I lied. There is no diet pill company. You ballooned up a hundred and fifty pounds for nothing! Well, not nothing. You clearly enjoy the food. Speaking of food, I have a surprise for you!” The headlights of another car pulled in the driveway. One of Emma’s former yoga students, a waitress at a local bakery, was delivering Emma’s late night snack - another chocolate cake. She knocks on the door. “Come on in!” Kevin beckons. Emma sees her in the doorway. “No, please..” breathlessly protests Emma, still reeling from the revelation of Kevin’s betrayal. ”I’ll deal with her, cow. But if you want me to keep sheltering you and filling that gut of yours, then you need to be my fat little piggie pet from now on. Ok?” ”Yes, Kevvie...” moans the bloated, defeated Emma, weakly writhing on the couch, as she straddles the line between a sugar high and a food coma. She’d been so accustomed to the feedings and the sedentary, pampered lifestyle that it was a relief to know she’d never have to go back. She couldn’t even recognize her former, slimmer self. She didn’t own a single shirt that could cover her engorged waist. ”Ok,” chortles Kevin, as he heads to the door. “Oh, and Kev?” ”What, cow?” ”Gimme a belly rub after this next cake.” ”Heh, of course, babe.”

Icy Garcia by T.F. Wright. This is an excerpt of my new ebook, Transformation TV. Also, check out the NSFW image sequence for this story with caption here. I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!Icy GarciaThis advertorial highlights one of the world’s most popular ice creams, which is adding a secret ingredient – with some weighty consequences! “Hector, you’re the patriarch of this family,” said Tandy, the blonde-haired, pint sized reporter for Transformation TV. “You’ve built something amazing with your Icy Garcia company. What’s the secret to your success?” “Determination,” he said quickly, stroking his bearded chin. “When I was little, I had nothing. My family, we had nothing. We lived on a shack near the school. But every time I was made fun of, it only strengthened my stubborn resolve, that I’d make something of myself, create a different life for my family.” “And now?” “Now we are quite wealthy, and my daughter Josefina can spend her days carefree. She loves to play volleyball on the beach, and she’s always very popular because she’s so beautiful and because they respect my last name.” “But that respect has taken a hit recently, correct? You lost a lawsuit this year...” “They’re cheats and scum! They said I lied about the fat content in my ice cream. That it makes people get fat. But I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!” “How do you plan to do that?” “I synthesized a special drug that causes weight gain, put in a batch. It’s already on the shelves,” he said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Aren’t you worried about more lawsuits, now that you’ve admitted you’ve sabotaged your own product? You don’t think there could be any unintended consequences at all?” ““They said my ice cream is fattening – I’ll show them fattening!” said Hector. “As for consequences, I have faith that everything will work out for the best.” “And nobody knows about this?” “You’re the first…” ~ Josefina leapt towards the sky, her long hair fluttering in the breeze and her hand nearly scraping the clouds as her arm swung wide. She spiked the volleyball into the sand, her tight, lean, regal frame strong and still as she landed. “Nice one!” said her partner, Pedro. “I agree,” said Jime, the man who hadn’t returned her serve. “You should have dove for it,” said Deulla, Jime’s girlfriend. “You always let her win,” she added snidely. Deulla was nearly as thin and gorgeous as Josefina, but Josefina always got all the male attention. “All that running around has made me really work up a sweat,” said Josefina. “I think I need to cool off the pool,” she said, referring to the majestic, waterfall-themed artificial grotto on her father’s estate. “Why don’t you swing by in a half hour, after, you know, I put my clothes back on?” The words hung in the air for a moment as all three of them contemplated Josefina’s body in the buff - Jime and Pedro with abject lust, Deulla with more than a little jealousy. ~ Josefina arched her back against the cobblestone archway as she basked in the cool flow of the mist near the waterfall. A tiny, polka-dot bikini was all that clung to her body. Slender and toned, but with large breasts and a shapely rear, Josefina was immensely proud of her gorgeous figure and the attention she was able to command with it. Josefina was used to getting anything that she wanted, and what she knew would make this perfect was an ice cream cone. A little bite, then a quick skinny dip in the pool - that was would be just fine. Thanks to her father’s company, she’d been blessed by a limitless supply of ice cream for as long as she could remember. And thanks to her speedy metabolism and her habit of constantly playing and exercising at the beach, she’d been even more blessed to never gain a pound from it. Josefina walked over to the built in freezer and pulled out a cone in the shape beer glass, filled it with an extra-creamy varietal called Quadruple Vanilla, then topped it with a generous amount of chocolate syrup. Then, she leaned back up against the archway. Ah, yes, she thought - perfect. Everything was exactly as it should be. When Josefina’s tongue took that first, eager lap against the ice cream, though, she was surprised. This ice cream wasn’t the delicious flavor she was used to. It was...it was…so, so much better. Josefina would have been certain that any substantive improvement on her family’s brand was impossible - how could one tamper with perfection? But this new flavor wasn’t just a feast for the senses. It made her lips and tongue tingle with delight as she swirled the globe of frozen cream around in her mouth. When she swallowed it down, a pleasant, warm glow made its way down her throat, before settling in her gut and then radiating out towards the rest of her body. She’d never felt so euphoric, so happy, so alive, in her entire life. She quickly grabbed a spoon and started scooping up large bites of the ice cream, tearing into it in earnest. As Josefina continued to eat, her body started to expand. First, her cheeks swelled outwards, giving her formerly angular face a more pleasant, welcoming, warm look. Her pointed chin vanished under huskier looking double chin. Josefina’s breasts began to grow larger, and as they swelled, they pushed against the little triangles of her bikini, straining the fabric and causing it to dig tightly against her flesh. But Josefina didn’t notice. She was so rapturously consumed with eating the ice cream that nothing else existed. As she finished, the pleasures made her weak in the knees, and she crumbled downwards. It was a hot day, and much of the ice cream had melted and lay in a pool at the bottom of the cone before she could scoop it up. Not patient enough to gain tiny spoonfuls of the melted stuff manually, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and tilted the cone over her mouth. The melted goo spilled into her gaping maw, as well as running down her chin and then dripping down towards the rest of her body. As Josefina swallowed the first gulp, her breasts finally pushed themselves free of her poor, overstrained bikini top. The little triangles of fabric were pressed to the sides of her growing frame, allowing her engorged mammaries to sit free and unencumbered on her chest. The cool, refreshing wave of melted ice cream rolled down onto them, causing her larger nipples to stiffen up and grow bigger still. Next, the ice cream made its way down Josefina’s tummy, which was no longer flat and waspish but was growing wide and started to shape itself into a little pot belly. And as the melted cream made its way further south, Josefina couldn’t deny that she felt incredibly aroused. Josefina used her free hand to untie her bikini bottom, which was already starting to feel tight and constricting due her widening hips. As she ran her fingers downwards, she could feel the unfamiliar swell of her gut against her hand, but she was too turned on to care. As the ice cream poured down her sex, she began to vigorously rub herself. Meanwhile, as she lapped up the last of the melted cream, Josefina’s splayed thighs grew wider and meatier, forming a large crease where they met against her hips and causing the toned definition she’d built up to vanish completely. The softer flesh now trembled at the slightest touch, and indeed as Josefina enthusiastically touched herself the flab that encased her thighs began to jiggle like mad. Josefina’s little pot belly began to swell, and then fold over her hand and wrist, though she certainly wasn’t trying to move her hand away. A second upper belly formed and then folded over the first, giving her two distinctive rolls which wrapped all the way around her waist and connected to the plumpness of her hips and back. As Josefina buried her rounder face in the cone, her long tongue skating inside to lap up the last bits of cream, her breasts continued their expansion. Her breasts growing outwards until they consumed nearly half of her torso, the firm, beautiful torpedoes still sitting proudly on top of the little shelf of her upper belly. They were large and heavy enough that they pressed against the sides of her frame and created yet another little roll that seemed to tuck under her arms - which, meanwhile, had swelled into decidedly husky proportions. Josefina groaned as she climaxed, her body shaking and quivering and little droplets of melted ice cream flying everywhere. The manic high her body was experiencing finally peaked and then quickly ebbed away. As she began to catch her breath, Josefina glanced down at herself - and screamed. She’d turned into a fat, disgusting whale! What the hell had happened!? She’d felt some unusual textures and sensations from her body while she was gorging, no doubt about that, but how could one ice cream cone possibly do this much damage? That’s when Josefina remembered she’d invited her friends over - what in the hell would they think? Josefina knew she had to text them to cancel. Her phone was on the other side of the long pool, so she slowly waded into the water to get it. “Josefina?” Deulla called out. “There’s somebody in your pool!” “Wait - oh, my God, I think that’s her!” said Pedro, as Josefina tried her best to cover herself up with her arms. Due to her increased girth, this was proving more of a challenge than she anticipated. “It is!” agreed Jime. Deulla silently smirked. If the huge, rotund woman wading through the water was indeed Josefina - and she couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance - then all her prayers had been answered. Her biggest - no pun intended - rival had been toppled. “Wow, Josefina...you’re...you’re…” Pedro sputtered. “Just say it, get it out of your system,” Josefina begged him, closing her eyes and preparing for the name calling and the laughter that she knew would be coming next. “You’re sexier than ever!” shouted Jime. “That’s just what I was going to say!” said Pedro. “I can’t believe it! Whatever you’re doing, it is working great!” “What!?” Josefina and Deulla said at the same time, in opposite tones of voice. “I’m sexy?” Josefina asked, monetarily stunned. “Well, yes, of course I’m sexy!” she quickly recovered. The only thing more massive than Josefina’s body was her giant ego, and now that the men in her life loved her, her earlier insecurities melted away like cheap ice cream in the sun. Both Pedro and Jime jumped into the pool with their clothes on, eager to get a closer look at the plump vixen. “Have you two lost your minds?” Deulla asked. “She’s a cow!” “Look at those breasts!” said Pedro. “May I?” he asked, and Josefina nodded as he gently stroked the sides of them. “I love that big tummy,” said Jime, as he poked at her sunken belly button. “You’ve always loved sports, Josefina - what will you do now?” Pedro asked. “How about...wrestling!” she said, charging forwards and causing water to splash in her wake. She used the momentum generated by her massive mass to push him backwards. Pedro tried to fight back, but Josefina wrapped her arms around his back and leaned forwards, taking total control. Both had huge grins on their faces as they sank under the water. “Jime, come on,” Deulla said, as she pulled him back. “What is this, just because she’s rich, you’re willing to say or do anything to get with her?” she whispered. “She’d be just as sexy even if she didn’t have a peso to her name,” Jime replied. “And, for the record, you could stand to gain a few pounds yourself.” Josefina and Jime surfaced in time to hear this, her wide grin reached impossibly large proportions. She knew she could lend Deulla a hand by telling her about the ice cream, but she wouldn’t mention that to her for the world. Right now, all eyes were glued to Josefina, just as they should be, she thought.Thank you for watching this paid Advertorial. Your experience using Icy Garcia products may differ. ~~~Transformation TV has dozens of transformation stories of all kinds. Get it on Amazon today! You can also read more of my work on my web site.

I don't often look for weight gain or BBW stories on Kindle Unlimited, but I did today and I found a new author I like. His name is Hugh Mann (obvious pen name) and he appears to just be starting out. His stories are $2.99 each, but you can read them for free if you subscribe to Kindle Unlimited. He doesn't appear to be super heavy on plot, but he focuses really heavily on BBW and weight gain and stuffing and such. I hope a few people here can read his stories and encourage him. He seems to have great potential. I know I enjoyed both his stories. Here is the link to his author page which lists all his stories (just the 2 currently). I hope you guys enjoy his writing as much as I have. http://amzn.to/21P2qQD

Hi! This is one of my favorite works I’ve written! It is a bit risqué and the kinks in it are def not for everyone but I hope most people enjoy it!! If there’s interest I’d love to read this on cam for y’all!! ✨✨✨ I want you to walk in the door with intention. I know where I’m meant to be when you come home. On the Slut’s Spot, waiting and willing. When I see you pick up your leather boots I know exactly what’s expected of me tonight and I drop to my knees, still on my spot. I watch as you take a seat on the couch and change your shoes. My knuckles touch the rug under me in anticipation. Once you are settled and comfortable you pat your thigh to call me over. “Come, be a good bitch and lick my boots till I’m hard enough to fuck your throat.” My mouth fills with drool as I lift my ass off my feet and crawl to you on hands and knees. As I approach you I lower my face and raise my ass, as I know you expect. I bring my wet tongue to the leather and take a long, slow lick across the side of your boot. I keep my ass in the air for you as I continuously use my tongue to clean your boots. I love being a good bitch for you and doing what you order me to. I moan as I drag my tongue over the toe of your boot because I know you are watching me happily degrade myself and your cock is stiffening because of it. Every time my tits drag across the floor I’m reminded of how demeaning this is but that just makes me want to do it even more. Both your boots are shiny with my drool at this point and you reach down and seize my hair, pulling my face up to where you can look me in the eyes. “Open your mouth.” I obey immediately. You take a moment, savoring my compliance, before you spit straight on my tongue. I moan a little getting ready to have your dick in my throat before you order me to hold. I stay where I am, gazing up at you from my knees as you use the hand that’s not holding my hair to scrub my mouth with your spit. “I have to wash your mouth out before I’ll let you touch my dick, dirty slut.” You are thorough and brutal, even spitting into my mouth again at one point when you felt like you need more. I love the feeling of your fingers stretching every inch of my mouth and keep trying to angle them down my throat. You laugh at me, and tell me to take out your dick. As I hurry to obey you ask “are you ready to have your throat full of my cock, like the good fucktoy you are?” “Yes Master! I love to service you!” Your grip on my hair tightens as you direct my mouth to wrap around your cock. As my lips close around your head you groan and I smile around your dick. I love having evidence that I’m doing my job well. My wet mouth slides easily over your rigid cock as I bob my head up and down in time with your hand still wrapped in my hair. You groan again and grip tightly as you push my mouth further down your dick. I happily oblige and run my tongue across the warm tip of you. As you get deeper I feel my throat begin to fill and I open it so you can nestle your member all the way in. This is my favorite part, feeling the head of your cock stretch and encompass my throat as I choke and gag. Your hands leave my hair then but I don’t surface yet. I’m enjoying the feeling of your cock pulsating deep in my throat. I’m breathing in being in my place, at your feet, instead of the air I usually breathe. I can feel my mouth filling with drool again and instead of swallowing it I relax my mouth as I slowly drag my lips up the length of your cock, letting the slobber slide down your shaft as I deeply inhale. I hear you do the same as you watch me make a mess of us both. I look up at you as I reach the head of your dick and our eyes meet. “What a good girl you are. I’m so proud of how my slut does exactly what’s expected of her.” I moan and squirm, my eyes darting away from yours. You catch my chin and raise it a bit, careful not to dislodge your cock from its place in my mouth. “Look at me,” your voice rumbles through me and then you remove your hand; crossing your arms, you look down at me in expectation. I keep the contact as I continue worshiping you from my knees. I start up again slowly, teasing every inch of you. I can’t go all the way down without breaking the eye contact you’ve demanded of me and I won’t disobey. Instead I do short, slow strokes and use my tongue to ensure every inch I can access is generously coated in my saliva. I can feel your groan in every inch where our bodies touch and it makes me shudder. Hearing you enjoy my service makes me so pleased I smile, and as the corners of my lips pull away from your cock a lake of drool spills down your shaft and gathers at the base of your cock and pools among your balls. I begin to pull back, embarrassed, but you growl down at me and, suddenly, one of your hands is wrapped around my throat, and the other palms the back of my head. I begin to panic but you softly shhhhh me as you drive your head as far into my throat as you can fit. Your hand on my head rocks up and down, just a bit, at the same time your hand on my throat tightens and releases. I lose myself in the dual sensation, just existing in my place as your cockslave. I don’t begin to fight until I can’t wait any longer to breathe, but you won’t let me go. Your hands stop moving then, the one on my head tight in my hair holding me against you, and the one on my throat snug against where you can feel your cock inside me. My hands flutter against you, ineffectual against your hold. As you feel my mouth slacken you release my neck and pull back on my hair. I can’t do anything but follow where you lead as you raise my head from your lap. A fresh torrent of slobber slickens everything in the area since I’m not quite able to control anything other than taking a deep breath right now. Your eyes are intense as you look at the mess I’ve made. “Awww, little bitch. Look what you’ve done. Such a dirty slut deserves a reward. Take out your tits for me.” I quickly comply, still recovering from the lack of air. My massive tits tumble out of the top of my dress as I pull it down. You grab me by the forearms and pull my torso across your lap. You arrange my tits so one sits on either side of your cock and my face is above everything. Then you swipe all the drool from my face and rub it inbetween my tits and into your dick. I’m feeling back to my normal self at this point and I begin to shift my tits around you to try and hear you moan. I must be wearing a mischievous look because you reach out and seize one of my nipples in each of your hands. I moan and squirm against your lap as you continue to tease and tug on my nipples. “Do you like it when I play with your udders?” You look down at me with a smirk, you already know the answer I’ll give. “Yes, Master. It feels so good when you make me your hucow. I love giving you access to every inch of me. Using my body to pleasure you is my favorite thing in the world. Thank you for making me feel so good.” And as I finished thanking you I dropped my lips to the head of your cock and begin licking every part I can reach. Your hands milking my nipples keeps me gasping and rocking as you let your head drop back on the couch to immerse yourself in my softness, no thoughts anymore only creamy skin and rampant pleasure. Every little change in sensation sends a ripple through your body and I am living for watching the ecstasy flicker across your face while being unobserved myself. I groan to myself before a grin spreads across my lips. Then I wrap them around your cock to drive you over the edge. It worked too, because your fingers trail from my nipples to the rounded sides of my tits until you can get a good grip on them, one overflowing in each hand. You come back to yourself and look down at me from my place on the floor as I use as much of my body as possible for your pleasure. You growl again and start bucking your hips so that you’re fucking both my tits and my face at the same time. Your hands tighten around my tits until it hurts but I don’t stop or cry out. I can tell by the swelling in your dick and the tremble in your breathing you’re so close. I stop bobbing my head and drive my face as far between my tits as I can achieve and hold it there. My fingernails dig into your sides as I clench my hands while you savage my face and tits. I’m moaning into you as you thrust up, I can’t help it when you’re being so brutal but that seems to be what hits the spot. Thick and warm, your seed shoots into my mouth and throat. Your load is so big I start ** so the next rope of cum arches across my tits and face. Your eyes are glazed over but you say in a clear, husky voice, “You look so hot covered in my cum. What a good cockslave I have,” while patting my head and fixing my hair. Once I have my breath back I begin to lick myself clean, like a good pet. You watch my efforts with a leisurely smirk, but as I lift a breast to my tongue and casually lick a line of cum your gaze darkens and your cock twitches. I realize you’re watching me and I meet your gaze. You only say one word: “Run.”