orange coax

Just a fantasy of mine

I have this fantasy time and time again and I always find the idea of it so hot.

In the fantasy, my feedee has a nice, round belly that makes her look maybe 4 months pregnant. One day, we win free tickets to some resort for a couples retreat. The program that we’re a part of is specifically for pregnant couples, so I convince the director that my little piggy is expecting.

Upon arrival, there is a buffet for all of the couples, and my feedee can’t help but gorge herself on all the delicious food. The others are glaring at us as she continues to down, two, three, four whole plates of various treats. I nervously play it off with the “she’s eating for two” excuse; I’m embarrassed as hell but also deeply excited and turned on by her dedication and raw passion towards her meal. At the end of the buffet, piggy waddles up to our room, clutching her bulging, taut gut and lightly moaning with pain and pleasure. The lower abdomen is peeking out from under her tight tank top, making her look even more pregnant than before.

The next morning, I wake up and immediately see a problem: All of the food from yesterday had turned into jiggly, plush fat. Her belly and breasts wobble as she turns to face me and she lets out a cute burp as she feels her new figure. We can’t have this, now! They’ll find out she’s not pregnant and kick us out! I need to make that belly round and tight again. I dash over to the phone and order room service for breakfast - a breakfast for four, in fact. Omelette after omelette, glass after glass of orange juice, I coax my chubby princess into downing it all. She’s moaning and hiccuping but she continuously pleads for more. “It’s to save the trip,” she says, but I know she likes it. Finally, she finishes every last crumb and lies defeated on our bed. Piggy rubs her swollen tummy, as do I, to help relieve the aching. It looks as though her pregnancy had advanced two months in one night, but she looks pregnant nonetheless. We’re safe for now.

I help her squeeze into her pants, but when the jeans don’t button, she slips on gym shorts instead. Oh, the irony. Her tshirt barely covers her belly button and her tits bulge out of the top, but she doesn’t seem to mind too much.

We take the elevator downstairs when we’re ready. It’s apparently lunch time already. My feedee takes a look at the burgers and chicken tenders laid out before us and blushes. Her stomach is tight as a drum, but I see her hand naturally move towards the food. Pretty soon, she’s eaten a whole burger. Then two. Then a few pieces of chicken. She’s at her limit, so I take her back to the room, basking in the stares that my prize pig is winning me.

“Don’t overdo it.” I say. “We’ve got to keep that belly nice and stuffed for this entire trip.”

She grins excitedly. “YOU MEAN I GET TO-” Then she composes herself a little. “You mean I have to eat like this every day?”

“That’s right, babe. This is gonna be one hell of a vacation.”

Just a thought ;)

anonymous asked:

prompt: something angsty, regina feels like robin is shutting her out of his and his daughter's life but it's not true.

I had wanted to do this for Daddy’s Girl for Peanut Week, but it became all OQ no baby, so it didn’t work. lol but I think it still turned out rather well. All aboard the angst train! *toot toot!*




They spent nearly a month in the Underworld, and didn’t really make any decisions. Par for the course, she thinks, considering after The Long Ride up from New York (during which they decided that they would, in fact, not be breaking up, that they would handle this together, that Regina would liaise primarily with Zelena on Robin’s behalf, and that they would figure out the rest of the details once they had some space to breathe), they had avoided the subject of what life would be like after the baby as if their Happy Endings depended on it (maybe they do?).

After she was born, they’d sat in Snow and David’s loft, Robin cradling the tiny pink bundle, Regina watching and aching, and decided how exactly to handle the immediacy of custody issues - something she had hoped might not be such a contentious issue six months from now (why she thought pregnancy and incarceration would mellow her sister, she’s not sure, but she’d thought maybe, somehow, with enough time, she’d be able to get through to Zelena, to at least start her on the long path to self-awareness and maybe recovery).

But they haven’t talked about them, about how this all works, about where the baby will live, or how involved he wants Regina to be in her life. It had come up, they had tiptoed around it, but every time, she had felt the words catch in her throat, and he had looked guilty (something that pains her, because what Zelena did to him is not his fault - something she reminds herself of every time that traitorous voice inside her whispers anger and betrayal over the fact that he’d slept with anyone at all while she was still here in Storybrooke nursing her broken heart), and they had always decided they still had more time before they needed to really hash things out.

And then they hadn’t. She’d been here. All six-pounds-three-ounces of her, with her ten fingers and ten toes and good lungs. So much for having more time.

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