The fullness was constant. No matter where she went or what she did, Emma was always aware of just h
The fullness was constant. No matter where she went or what she did, Emma was always aware of just how round and heavy of a being she’d become. Even 8 months ago, when she’d first started noticing the changes, she had marveled at the surreal (and honestly arousing) sensation of so many seemingly indelible parts of herself suddenly starting to shift. But had been nothing: month to month and even week to week her rate of growth seemed to accelerate, her body ravenous to grow increasingly more maternal. Dozens and dozens of pounds of new flesh and curves began to swell onto her frame, genetics and hormones working together to leave Emma with no say in the size of her ballooning breasts, thickening thighs, or almost spherical baby bump. All she could do was chart the growth, and experience the ever-present weight and heft of herself.In public, Emma would complain about her fatigue and make the usual comments that every pregnant girl did about feeling “like the size of a house”, and sometimes she even meant that. But to her partner, she was more honest. It was such a powerfully submissive feeling to physically experience herself changing, both for their child she was growing, but also because it was what he had done to her. These wide hips that made her waddle now, the heavy dome that made it hard for her to sleep on her back, and the huge breasts that pulled her shoulders forward under their new weight, all were reminders that she had lost control, and that she was better off for it. -- source link
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