human girl is a big strong personal trainer while the slime girl keeps the form of an extremely curvy short stack that works from home. When the slime finds out the human wishes she had any curves at all the slime girl in a night of passion pours part of herself inter her lover leaving her as curvy as her girlfriend would be at almost twice the height. While she is at work though, the slime likes to toy with her lover and do things like making her swell up just a bit before speeding the growth up on her way home. this growth is course intensely pleasurable, and once she gets home all growing stops as sensitivity skyrockets and she ravishes her lover and makes love to her without even touching her.
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Just one more.
Three words, ones I’d echoed in my head for two decades.
Just one more. Then I can rest.
That second half, it had changed a few times. At first it was “and then ice cream”. Later, “and then the girls will like me”. Now, with sweat pooling beneath me on the ground?
I just want to sleep. I just want to lay down. A shower would be nice, but the bed is better. It doesn’t require me to stand. My head drips to the floor and meets it. I rise again, and hold my spine straight.
Then I give a sigh and fall to the floor.
I hated one handed push ups. I hated them so, so much. But as I rolled onto my back, I took a deep breath. I felt my pecs tighten beneath my sports bra, every second of inhalation burning. Nothing else made me feel like that. Not burpees, not butterfly presses, not even diamonds. I closed my eyes, and tried to focus on my breathe. The fan above me cut the light into patterns, shadows that twisted and turned every second.
I sat there, the room quiet save for the flare of nostrils, until I felt it. The cool caress of her at my brow. My eyelids fluttered, and I looked up at Nancy with a weak smile.
“Hey babe,” I said. Just the words made my teeth hurt. Nancy-clear and translucent, every sapphire inch of her held in place by her own will-frowned. She shook her head and her chubby tendriled hair smacked against her shoulders. It stuck there for a moment, then broke free. It rejoined the rest with a thwp, then swayed still. Her face, it’s so cute right now. The darker orbs of her eyes are huge and wet. Her brow was arched, but softens as I meet her gaze. When she speaks, it’s like rainwater against a tin roof.
“You pushed too hard,” she says. I snort, and try not to grunt as I pull myself off the floor.
“Not really. Not any more than I do every day,”
“That’s still too much,” she says, her hand meeting her side. “It’s way too much and you know it,”
I shrug, and reach to the right for a towel. It’s only when I look to the left, my face warmer than it already was, I realize Nancy has it. She extends it to me, and the cool wet terry cloth meets my brow. I dab, and dab again. It feels so good in that moment I just don’t speak. Nancy reaches down on the back of my neck. Her fingers feel wonderful, and as her touch spreads I realize she’s melting. Down my neck, down my shirt. Every inch of her that goes searching brings her face that much closer to mine.
When she kissed my cheek, I finally smile without an ounce of pain. She giggles, and kisses me again.
“You reek,” she says curtly. I snort, and turn to her.
“That bad?” I say.
Her nose pulls back into her rounded face, then appears again. We both laugh, and I rise to my feet. Only one of my knees pop-but that doesn’t stop her face from contorting with concern.
“Syd-” she says, but I hold up a hand.
“I know, I know. Draw the bath for me while I grab some clothes?”
She smirks, and gives me a nod. She turns, every bit of her waddling and jiggling as she passes through the door. She’s cute, damned cute, and the fact she barely reached the handle only emphasized it.
I lift the towel in my grip on my head, and dab again. When I pull it away, I realize it smells just like her.
@@@
I’m never sure what I enjoy more.
Working out is actually self harm. People don’t get that. When you’re doing strength training, you’re pushing your muscles. Your tearing and ripping yourself apart from the inside. You push, you bend, you break. It’s not that the warmth of a bath feels good-it’s that it’s one sensation deadening another. It’s something against your skin, rather than from within. As the warmth seeps into every aching joint and tendon, only then do you relax. That’s only because of increased blood flow. Pain for pleasure, that’s why a bath feels so good after almost killing yourself at the weight bench.
But then there’s Nancy.
Sweet, jiggly nancy.
She draws the bath for me, but she enjoys it just as much. She’ll watch me undress, her own clothes sluicing to the floor. Then with a giggle she climbs in beside me.
Then it starts.
She’ll be so overwhelmed her face loosens. Her eyes, her mouth, all these features she holds just disappear. They melt within her, and her hair follows. Her body gives way, and every drop of her seeps beside me. Over me, over all my aching muscles. Enveloping me utterly, still talking like soft rain. I look down, and I don’t see myself anymore. Just endless, deep blue. My eyes grow heavy, and I slip into her like a dream. Sometimes she’ll sing, sometimes we’ll talk.
Tonight’s a talking night.
I feel the water stir alongside me as she says again, “You pushed too hard. I can feel it all, you know,”
“I know, but really it wasn’t-” I start, only for the words to fall mute as my jaw slacks. Nancy, she’s stirred along my thighs. Currents made solid pressing against me. Higher, higher still until she meets my cunt. I close my mouth as a wry smile rolls over my lips.
“That’s not fair,” I say. The last word curls into a gasp as water swirls against my clit. I clutch myself, squealing as she whirls to the small of my back.
“Oh, it’s totally fair. What’s not fair is you killing yourself with that iron. You can relax still-can’t you?” comes her voice. The bath bubbles with every syllable, and I sink my teeth into my lip. Holding back the squeals used to be so easy.
That was before she realized I liked anal. Now I just flex my ass as hard as I can, and try to fight her off. But Nancy always finds a way. She’ll sluice and caress, flick and roll with every drop until I finally part. The truth is-I always let her in. Every time. Right now though, I’m clenching my cheeks. So she goes back to my fingers, swirling against them like she’s suckling.
“I know how to relax, dork. I just-I just can’t quit, you know? I mean with the Youtube channel and everything, Daily Burn. People expect me to look a certain wa-ayyyyyyyyNancy!” I squeal, gripping the sides of the tub.
I’d only unclenched for a second. Just the one. But it was enough time for her to press a firm wave right between my cheeks. I’m laughing and splashing in the water, trying to get away. I know I can’t unless I get out-and I’m sure as hell not doing that. I slide to the other side of the tub, and bring my knees to my chest. I slipped a hand between my thighs, and watch the surface of the water. It rises soon enough-and the loose shape of her starts to form. She crosses her flipper like arms, splattering herself back to herself.
“Look WHAT way, Syd? You’re already a freaking amazon. Isn’t there any kind of body positivity in all that? A few pounds isn’t going to kill you, right?”
I scoff, my arms easing. My feet slip towards her, and I watch as she pours up along my thigh. She creeps slow, undulating and caressing me. I smile, and slide my legs farther towards her. She takes a more solid shape as her face draws close. I blink, and her breasts are at my chin. She’s atop me now, warm and wet and solid. She drips and caresses my cunt, and I let out a moan as her hand pushes from her chest. It meets my chin, and lifts it towards her face.
“Chunky girls still rule, right?”
I smile, and kiss her. She tastes like fruit punch-and parts my lips effortlessly. She presses inside my mouth, writhing and talking from within me. Her words vibrate against my throat, and as she fills my cunt with her warm jelly cock I can only gurgle.
“No,” she says, “A few pounds wouldn’t kill you at all,”
@@@
They tell you not to read the comment section.
That’s your first, and only, commandment if you do media. Don’t read the comments and preserve your sanity. But when you’re shedding yourself, when you’re ripping your body apart? It comes with the job. You post a video, and then you wait. There’s always the inevitable ones. People who hate you for being fit. People who still think you’re fat with a two-percent BMI. People who call you a whore for being in front of the camera at all. The death threats, the people pimping their own videos. Weight loss supplements-naturally not approved by the FDA. All of this is before we get to the bots, the robo-comments, the referral links. It’s all so much noise that I rarely give it more than a cursory glance.
This time I did, though.
The video wasn’t anything unusual. Just yoga stretches and poses. I barely even said anything. I was just hoping to get some content up, something to close the week out. That’s all part of the game of what I do. Either you get something out, or you cease to exist.
Most of the time, after I load a video? I let the notifications roll for an hour. Maybe an hour and a half if I’m bored.That way if there is something relevant or a real question, I can answer it. I can engage with people that need actual help. It’s the easiest way to market yourself-being nice, being kind.
This time I didn’t turn them off.
There was the usual gaff. The bots seem to leap with referral links the moment a video is done processing, I swear. I was scrolling through them, but then came upon an actual, human-made comment. I started reading it-and couldn’t flick away. My cheeks grew warm as every word hit harder than the last.
“Has she had work done? I swear her boobs are bigger…”
I looked away from my phone, and glanced down at my bust. They still LOOKED like B-cups. I poked the side of them with my fingers-and felt a slight give. My brows rose, and I scrolled up towards the video. I passed by two or three other comments, each of them making my heart pound.
“She’s about to bust out of her top lmao”
“dudE when did u git so STAXED?”
“Been hitting the squats a lot harder lately babe?”
I hit play, and watched myself. Everything started off normal. A long shot of me, in my sports bra and tights. I wave at the camera, a smile plastered on my face. I tell everyone we’re going to do some yoga, and then I break into downward dog.
It was so quick I thought I’d missed it. I rolled back ten, fifteen seconds. I tapped the bottom right of the window, and turned my phone sideways. The footage rolled of me bending at the waist. My heels raised, and I extended my arms. All of this was normal-I’d done too many times in front of the camera, and not. It wasn’t that, though. My form was fine. My chorded biceps and calves both looked fine.
It was the way my breasts hung that was wrong.
I rolled the footage back again, and again, and again. Every single time, they plopped and hung rather than held in place. The warmth I felt in my cheeks, it seeped down to my chest and held. I put my phone to the side, and looked down. My girls, they weren’t unappealing. They had a good shape to them, but they’d never been ones to wander. They did it even less now, but to see them hang like that?
I thought back to the comment section, and pulled my top off. My sports bra peeled away, and I went to the mirror that hung over our sink. My reflection-a bit harried-looked back at me. I lifted my breasts, and felt my eyes widen.
The red imprint beneath them wasn’t uncommon-but it was never this deep. This red. The last time that had happened, I’d gone up a cup size. I went back to where I’d dropped my bra, and picked it up. It was the same size I’d worn for years. I thought maybe it had just shrunk in the wash-so I went towards my dresser. I pulled a drawer out, and grabbed another bra. I slipped it on, and went back to the mirror.
“She’s about to bust out of her top lmao”.
Christ, they were right. My breasts were pressed tight together, a plump roll of flesh peeking from the top of the bra. I stood there, staring at them a moment longer. I tried to think of anything that might have changed-my routine, my diet. I’d sworn off sugar, cow milk, carbs and more years ago. I couldn’t remember the last time I had something that wasn’t grilled chicken and steamed veggies. I swallowed, my throat slick with worry.
That’s when it hit me.
Last night. With Nancy.
It hadn’t been the first time, either. I’d never protested-I loved her, after all. I loved the way she teased, the way she filled me. I loved the way she felt inside of me, but Nancy was the difference. Nancy was the-
I heard something. Like a seam about to rip. I looked into the mirror, and saw the most minute tear at my cleavage. I leaned forward, my jaw slack as I lifted my hand to finger the tear. Before I even touched it, there was another rip-and it widened. I gasped, and pulled back from the mirror. I stood frozen-then turned and hurried to my phone. Every step, the seam tore just a little more. I thumbed Nancy’s number-she’d only stepped out for groceries. It’d been a cloudless day, and she had wanted out. So I let her go, but had shoved a raincoat into her all the same. She gave me the same bemused look she had last night in the tub.
The phone rang, and I remembered just what she’d said. There was a click, and another rip. I closed my eyes, and tried to ignore the feel of air against my chest.
“Hello?” came her soft, watery voice. I swallowed, and tried to think of what to say. “Hello? Syd, are you there?” she said, her voice tinged with concern.
I opened my eyes, and turned back towards the mirror. The rip, one that had been so small before, was now a wide V in my bra. Barely held in place by the elastic, ready to give to the jiggly breasts behind it. It was like seeing a tsunami come for a dam.
It wasn’t just my bra, either.
“Uh, Nancy? Last night, when we-you know-did you…” I said, my words failing at the end. I couldn’t think to ask-couldn’t bare to.
But I didn’t have to.
Nancy, she gave it all away with a giggle.
“I told you a few pounds wasn’t going to kill you. And the best part is? We can keep going! Send me a pic, okay?”
She said it so cheerfully, with so much glee that I had to pull the phone away. I hung up, and sat there staring at the screen.
We can keep going?
I thumbed over to the camera. As the app opened, I stared at myself. My new body, ripping and tearing the old me apart.
I had to lift the camera up at an angle just to fit into the frame.
As I stood there, my tanned, full breasts in view, I lifted a hand. Up it went, over my plump hips. Over a full bust, once B cups but now so much more. I cupped them, and felt a rush of sensation as I billowed out of my own hands.
I’d ran track. I’d done jerk lifts, squats and more.
None of them made me as weak as that single caress, captured right as I took the pic.
@@@
“Just one more!” I shouted.
I smiled towards the camera, and Nancy gave me a thumbs up. She sat by the computer, her tendrils slipping manic over the keys. We had to get a waterproof one, but the money came quick after the first stream. I throw my arms up, and leap into the air. My breasts smack against my chin, and I laugh as I land. The moment my heels touch the ground, I can feel every part of my thighs jiggle. I bend over, and feel them smack against my rounded knees. Nancy turns towards me, and gives a nod.
Panting, I turn towards the camera and smile. “Wow, you guys really like the jumping jacks, huh? How about some squats? Or mayyyyybbbee some yoga? I can still bring my ankles right up behind my head, you know!”
I watch as Nancy smiles wider, her tendrils fwipping against the keys. Two of them lift from her hair, and form a diamond. I smile, and lift my arms again. I grip my wrist, and shake my chest as the stream goes wild.
“Huh? A mating press move? Hrm, you know-I think I might need an assistant for that. You guys are good with Nancy coming on, right?”
Nancy’s eyes go wide as she turns a deep, sapphire blue. I laugh, and watch the glow of her monitor go nuts. She stands up, her body shuddering as she parts her thighs.
Her cock is even bigger and thicker than the last show. I roll my tongue over my lips, and lie down on my back. I grip my ankles, and raise them right against my cheeks as she rounds the corner.
It had been a slight adjustment. Doing live streaming porn instead of work out videos. Our viewers though? They were a hell of a lot nicer. They complimented me, my new body. They loved Nancy, and told her how adorable she was. Sharing ourselves like this, it wasn’t painful anymore. It wasn’t torment, it didn’t hurt.
As Nancy’s massive, sticky cock filled me, I realized something. Something I’d never felt doing work out.
Everything felt absolutely right.