Kim’s Puffy Day

Huge, thick tentacles coiled tightly around the plump frame of the sarcastic redhead, Kim Pine. Once again, she found herself trapped in a situation that could only be blamed on her friend Scott.

She lay sprawled across a bed of pulsing purple tentacles , each one wandering shamelessly over her voluptuous, freckled body. They squeezed her soft rolls, pinched at her generous hips, and tugged at the heavy flesh of her belly, while another teasingly lingered between her thighs.

“Oh, come on, if I’m going to get dragged into some perverted nightmare because of that idiot Scott, the least you can do is keep me entertained. Don’t make me wait—there’s a lot of me to handle.”

The tentacles began to knead Kim's plump body with much more enthusiasm. One thick intruder forced its way inside, stretching her greedily from within, feeding her body until her weight pressed heavily against the bed of multiples tentacles.

The impact sent ripples across her inflated breasts, which were immediately seized by another eager tentacle squeezing between them.

Her belly jiggled with every thrust, swaying in time with the relentless rhythm of the tentacles’ care. They seemed to delight in her softness, savoring the way she swelled under their touch.

The tentacle near her face moved in with an insistent rhythm until it touched her lips. Kim didn't even flinch; she barely raised an eyebrow, letting out a sigh as if dealing with another of Scott's clumsy behaviors.

“Perfect, now it turns out the interdimensional octopus wants to kiss me too,” Kim said with apathy.

The tentacle pulsed, pressing insistently against her lips as if begging to slip inside. Kim’s expression wavered—her sharp sarcasm faltering for once as a flicker of worry crossed her freckled face, mingled with a hunger she didn’t want to admit.

“Well, if you’re going to do it, at least have the decency to be quick,” she said parting her lips slightly.

The tentacle wasted no time. Its girth swelled as it forced its way down her throat, making her eyes widen as her jaw strained to accommodate the thickness. A heavy shudder ran through her frame as the invasive pressure spread deeper, carrying with it a strange fullness that expanded from her core.

Her belly began to swell outward even more, sloshing and jiggling with obscene weight as the rest of her curves followed—hips thickening, breasts ballooning, arms and thighs softening into exaggerated cushions of flesh. Each pulse of the tentacle seemed to pump her larger, rounder, heavier.

Hours slipped by, and the sarcastic redhead had become an unrecognizable monument of flesh. Her body sprawled in all directions, rolls stacked upon rolls, every curve inflated into blobby immensity. She no longer struggled or shifted; she simply existed as a massive, motionless idol of gluttonous expansion, her freckled face barely visible between the mountains of flesh and a tentacle still deep on her mouth.

By: @anotherwolfboy