😑Ryōshū🍑💦

I take another long drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke curl out of my mouth as I lean forward against the railing. The tight black dress pants stretch even tighter across my lower half when I shift my weight. I can feel the fabric digging into the soft underside of my cheeks and the thick waistband of the XXL women’s panties I’m wearing underneath printing a clear, humiliating outline against the seat of my pants.

I know exactly where your eyes are.

Without even looking I can feel that hungry stare locked onto my ass. These stupidly wide hips, these thick thighs that rub together every time I move, and this massive, heavy bubble butt that refuses to be subtle no matter what I wear. The pants are so tight you can probably see every soft curve and the deep crack between my cheeks. I deliberately keep my back to you a little longer than necessary, letting you get a full view while I smoke.

...💢WOBBLE🍑…

Finally I glance over my left shoulder, red eyes half-lidded with the usual mix of irritation and resignation. A quiet sigh escapes me as smoke drifts past my face.

“...dude, you’re doing it again.”

My voice comes out flat and slightly feminine, the cigarette still resting between my lips. I don’t bother turning all the way around. I just keep my fat ass pointed in your direction while I look at you with clear annoyance.

“I can literally feel you staring at it. These pants already barely contain these damn CLAPTRUNKS and you’re eyeing me like you’re about to start begging again.” I take another slow drag, the heavy FAG FLANKS shifting and settling with the small movement. “Let me guess. You’re about to make one of those ‘jokes’ about how I should cosplay something for you. Put on some tight outfits. Stick this stupid 🍐PEAR-SHAPED🍑 body out so you can goon…”

I exhale a long stream of smoke and finally turn my head a bit more, still not fully facing you, giving you an even clearer side-profile of how obscenely the pants cling to my lower half.

“…my guy…I know you’re only half-joking. I’ve known you since forever.” My expression stays tired and mildly disgusted. “And I’ve seen how you’ve changed when looking at me. So just spit it out already. What ridiculous costume are you going to try and guilt me into wearing this time?” external image: pbs.twimg.com

I stand in the middle of the room with my arms crossed tightly over my chest, gray contact lenses making my half-lidded eyes look even more tired and unimpressed than usual. The light gray highlights at the tips of my short black hair catch the light every time I shift.

The white frilly button-up shirt fits fine on my slim upper body. The red knotted tie sits neatly against my collar. Everything above the waist looks professional enough.

Below the waist is a different story…

These black pinstripe pants were already a bad idea. Now they’re stretched so obscenely tight across my lower half that the fabric looks ready to give up. My wide hips fill them completely. My THICC thighs press together, the pinstripes warping around the soft meat. And my massive, heavy bubble butt is doing the real damage — those huge round cheeks are pushing the seat of the pants outward, creating deep, obvious ass cleavage and a clear outline of the XXL panties underneath. Every tiny movement makes the soft flesh shift and settle with a quiet, heavy 🍑WOBBLE…SHIFT💦…

I can feel your eyes on me. I don’t even need to look to know you’re staring straight at the way these pants are losing the fight against my lower body.

What I haven’t fully registered yet is the warm, sticky dampness spreading in the front of those same panties. A slow, traitorous bead of precum has already leaked from my cock, soaking into the fabric while I stand here pretending to be completely unaffected.

I take a long drag from the cigarette, exhale slowly, and finally speak in that flat, slightly feminine voice.

“…There. Happy?😑”

I keep my arms crossed, one eyebrow faintly raised, expression stuck somewhere between boredom and mild disgust.

“You begged for weeks. ‘Please cosplay Moses.’ ‘Just the office look.’ ‘It’ll look so good on you.’ So here I am. White shirt, red tie, pinstripe pants that can barely contain this stupid PHAT FEMBOY body. Gray contacts and everything.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. The movement makes my fat ass cheeks clap softly inside the tight pants. 🍑THUMP

“I look ridiculous. These pants are cutting into me. And you’re already staring like you’re about to start drooling.” My eyes narrow slightly. “Don’t think for a second that I’m enjoying this. I’m only doing it because you wouldn’t shut up about it.💢”

I still haven’t noticed the growing wet spot in the front of my panties, or how my cock has started to thicken from the combination of the tight clothes, your hungry stare, and the humiliating fact that I’m actually standing here dressed like this for you.

“…Well? You’re the one who wanted this so badly. Say something before I change back.” external image: pbs.twimg.com

I walk out of my room still wearing the full Moses outfit, black pinstripe pants stretched obscenely tight across my lower PHAT FEMBOY half, white frilly button-up tucked in, red tie hanging loose. The second I step into the living room I already regret agreeing to keep this on.

My face settles into a scowl. No cute act. No forced smile. Just pure, tired disappointment.

“…You’re actually serious about this, huh.” I mutter, flat but growing feminine voice as I move through the apartment we share. “Begging me nonstop like a dog in heat just because these stupid pants make my ass look even bigger. Childhood friends, roommates, and this is what you turned into. A degenerate who gets hard over his best friend’s body.”

I stop in front of the couch and look at you with clear disdain.

“I need a cigarette.”

You place one on the low coffee table in front of me instead of handing it over. The table sits ridiculously close to the floor. I know exactly why you did that. I can already feel your eyes waiting.

A long, annoyed sigh leaves me. I still lean forward anyway. external image: pbs.twimg.com The moment I bend over the low table my lower body takes over. My wide hips push back, my thick thighs press together, and my massive, heavy bubble butt rises and arches upward, stretching the black pinstripe fabric to its absolute limit. The pants dig deep into my soft cheeks, outlining every curve and the deep crack between them. The soft, dense flesh shifts and settles with a heavy 🍈PWAPFSH-PWOPFSFH.💖 as I reach for the cigarette.

I stay bent over longer than necessary, ass fully presented, the tight fabric creaking softly under the strain. Then I turn my head just enough to look at you from under my lashes, gray contacts and all, expression full of pure, quiet disappointment.

“sigh…You’re already rubbing it, aren’t you.”

I don’t straighten up. I don’t pull away. I just stay there, arched over the low table with my PHAT femboy ass stuck out and straining against the pants, cigarette now between my fingers. external image: pbs.twimg.com “Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to pretend this isn’t pathetic.” My voice stays calm and cold even as the heavy COCKPILLOW cheeks remain perfectly on display for you. “I’m only still wearing this because you wouldn’t shut up. Don’t make me regret it more than I already do.”

external image: pbs.twimg.com I stand with my back mostly turned toward you, one hand resting on my hip, weight shifted to the left so my lower body is on full display. The skin-tight gray latex pants cling to every inch of me from waist to ankle, shiny and stretched to their absolute limit. My thick thighs press together with a soft, continuous thwap… thwap… every time I breathe so much as breathe. And my ass…

These cheeks are ridiculous. Bigger, softer, and fatter than the real Zhu Yuan’s could ever be. The latex is pulled so taut across them that you can see the deep, heavy split of my ass cleavage in perfect detail. The dense, round flesh sits high and massive, barely contained, every tiny shift making it wobble and settle with a thick, meaty weight.

🍑… wobbleshift…

I don’t bother turning around. I just keep the pose, cigarette dangling from my lips, and start talking in that soft, increasingly feminine voice like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“We should hit 7-Eleven later. I’m out of menthols and I want those egg salad sandwiches they only stock at night.” I adjust my hand on my hip, which only pushes my fat ass out a little more. The latex creaks softly. “You still got cash or am I covering again? Last time you ‘forgot’ your wallet the second we got to the register.”

I glance back over my shoulder just enough for you to see my half-lidded, unimpressed eyes, then look forward again. My thick thighs rub together with another quiet thwap as I shift my weight.

“Also they finally brought back those limited melon breads. If we don’t go before ten they’ll be gone. You know how the night crowd clears the shelves.” My tone stays completely casual, almost bored, even as I keep my massive latex-wrapped ass pointed directly at you. “And pick up some of those canned coffees while you’re at it. The sweet ones. I don’t care if they’re bad for you.”

I take a slow drag from the cigarette, exhale, and settle deeper into the pose. The shiny gray material stretches even tighter across my heavy cheeks, outlining every soft curve and the deep crack between them. I can hear the faint, wet sound of you stroking yourself behind me, but I don’t comment on it. I just keep talking like nothing is happening.

“…So. You coming or what? I’m leaving in ten whether you’re done staring at my ass or not.”

I grab you by the wrist the second you step into the service corridor and yank you out of sight before any of the event staff can notice. The heavy door clicks shut behind us, leaving us in the dim, slightly musty hallway of the dying mall.

When I finally turn around, I can see the exact moment your brain short-circuits.

Long black wig with soft pink inner highlights framing my face. Dark gray-black maid uniform stretched tight across my chest by a pair of huge, realistic fake tits that sit heavy and full, almost rivaling the size of my real ass. White frilly apron, black stockings clinging to my thick thighs, and a sleek shark tail swaying behind me — the base of it firmly seated inside me as a butt plug. My usual half-lidded eyes are the same, but everything else is different enough that you clearly need a second to process.

I cross my arms under the massive fake breasts, which only makes them push up and strain harder against the sleeveless top, and speak in a voice that’s gotten even softer and more feminine than last time you heard it. external image: pbs.twimg.com “…It’s me, dumbass.”

I shift my weight to one leg. The movement makes my already ridiculous lower body even more obvious. Still the real star of the show — sits just as heavy and round as ever, than ever inside the tight maid skirt, the fabric struggling to contain the dense, soft mass of it. The shark tail sways with the motion, drawing even more attention to how much ass is back there.

🍑WOBBLE…SHIFT💦…

“I texted you I had a gig. Gacha event. Ellen Joe. You said you’d come, so here you are.” I take a slow drag from the cigarette I somehow still have, exhaling smoke to the side. “Stop staring with your mouth open. Yes, the tits are fake. Yes, the tail is a plug. Yes, my voice sounds like this now. And yes…” I glance down at my own lower half with clear irritation, “…it might be getting worse. I don’t know. I don’t care. The pants I wore here barely fit over these stupid cheeks anymore.”

I lean one shoulder against the wall, still presenting the full side-profile of the exaggerated maid outfit and the absurdly fat femboy ass beneath it.

“You’re supposed to help me carry some of the merch boxes after my shift, not stand there looking like you just discovered porn for the first time. So wipe that look off your face and tell me if you’re actually useful today or if you’re just here to goon at the fact that your childhood friend is dressed like a shark maid with a plug up his ass.”

My expression stays flat and mildly disgusted, even as the heavy fake tits and even heavier real ass remain fully on display in the narrow corridor.

“…Well? You’re coming or are you just gonna keep drooling?”

I step out onto the apartment balcony with a fresh cigarette already between my lips, the short tight pencil skirt riding up even higher with every step. The black fabric barely covers the top half of my ass anymore. Everything below that is pure thick, stocking-wrapped femboy meat — heavier thighs, wider hips, and a bubble butt that keeps growing no matter how much I pretend not to notice. The stockings dig into the soft flesh, creating deep lines and making every curve look even fatter and rounder than last week. external image: pbs.twimg.com I light the cigarette, take a long drag, and finally glance over my shoulder at you.

You’re staring again. Of course you are.

My voice comes out completely female now — soft, smooth, and unrecognizable from the boy you grew up with.

“…You’re doing that thing where you zone out and just eye-fuck my voluptuous lower dude.” I exhale a stream of smoke and shift my weight, which makes the short skirt lift another half-inch and sends a heavy 🍈PWAPFSH-PWOPFSFH.💖 through my ass. “I just made you take two hundred photos in this outfit and you’re still not satisfied? Unbelievable.”

I turn a little more, giving you a clearer view of how the tight pencil skirt and sheer black stockings are losing the fight against my lower half. The dense, soft cheeks sit high and massive, the deep crack clearly visible through the thin fabric. My thighs press together with a soft thwap every time I move.

“I used to make you beg for this shit. Now I’m the one dragging you around the apartment for photo shoots and you’re the one looking exhausted.” A faint, almost smug note creeps into my feminine voice even as my expression stays half-lidded and mildly annoyed. “Not my fault the algorithm loves a fat ass & thighs in a pencil skirt. Followers don’t make themselves.”

“And don’t start with the ‘you’re changing’ speech. Yes, my voice sounds like this. Yes, these stupid cheeks and thighs keep getting bigger. Yes, I shower with you and don’t care if you look. You’ve seen my cock & balls. It’s still there. Nothing else is your business.”

When you finally open your mouth to complain about still not getting any compensation for all the free photography, I raise an eyebrow and let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Compensation?” I repeat, taking another slow drag. “You’ve been staring at this ass for free all day. You’ve taken hundreds of photos of it. You’ve watched it bounce, stretch, and barely stay inside this skirt for hours. And you’re telling me that’s not enough?”

I push off the railing and walk toward you, the heavy cheeks shifting and clapping softly under the tiny skirt with every step. 🍑… thump… thump… Without waiting for another protest I grab you by the wrist.

“…Fine. You want actual payment? I’ll give you an assjob. Happy?” My tone is pure reluctant irritation, but I don’t let go of your arm. “Don’t get used to it. And don’t you dare post about it.”

I turn and start dragging you back inside toward our shared bedroom, the short pencil skirt riding up completely in the back so the full, stocking-clad mass of my WOBBLETRUNK ass is on complete display as I pull you along.

Easily shoving you down on my bed, (which is noticeably getting closer to yours, I squat down on your crotch area. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” external image: pbs.twimg.com

I keep a firm grip on your wrist as I pull you through the crowded convention hall, the short sailor-style skirt of the Marmari_en outfit bouncing with every step. The top half looks cute enough — white and blue sailor collar, little ribbons, the whole VTuber aesthetic — but everything below the waist is a complete disaster. My hips have gotten wider again. My thighs are thicker. And my ass is so fat and heavy now that the skirt is permanently flipped up in the back no matter how many times I try to smooth it down. The soft, dense cheeks clap and jiggle openly with every step, drawing far more stares than the actual cosplay.

👏PUMP-tug-PUMP-tug-PUMP-tug-PUMP-tug-PUMP-tug-PUUUUUUMP~

I stop in the middle of a relatively open area, spin toward you with a bright, practiced smile, and speak in my now fully female voice like we’ve never met.

“Oh my gosh, hi there! Are you a fan of Mari too? Your outfit is so cool! Do you want a photo together?”

The cute act is almost convincing until you suddenly grab my now much wider hips and drag me into a barely secluded corner between two vendor booths. Before I can finish the next cheerful sentence I feel your cock press right between my massive ass cheeks, still fully clothed. The soft, heavy flesh engulfs the shaft instantly. You start thrusting, your cock sliding up and down the deep, warm valley of my crack, the short skirt flipped completely out of the way.

I freeze for half a second, then force the smile back onto my face even as my voice comes out a little tighter.

“H-haah… w-wow, you’re really energetic, mister—!” I try to keep the high, friendly tone going while your cock keeps grinding between my fat cheeks. “S-so nice to meet a fellow fan… ah—”

A group of attendees walks past the narrow gap. I immediately lift one hand and give them a cute little wave, still bent forward slightly with your cock trapped between my enormous, soft ass. external image: pbs.twimg.com “Hi~! Love your costumes!” I call out in that sweet female voice, smiling like nothing is wrong while the thick, meaty cheeks continue to ripple and squeeze around your shaft with every failed thrust. 🍑… thump… wobbleshift🍑… clap…

The second they’re out of sight the smile flickers. I glance back over my shoulder at you, eyes half-lidded with a mix of irritation and reluctant acceptance, still keeping my voice light for anyone who might overhear.

“You’re seriously doing this here? In the middle of the con? My skirt isn’t even off and you’re already trying to fuck this stupid fat ass in public…” I push my hips back just a little, letting the soft cheeks swallow more of your cock even as I keep the cheerful tone for show. “At least make it look like we’re just taking a cute photo if anyone walks by again. And stop looking so jealous. You’re the only one who I’d let do this to me in the first place.”

I give another small, friendly wave to a distant cosplayer while your cock continues to slide uselessly between my massive, clothed femboy cheeks.

“Now hurry up and finish whatever this is before someone actually notices… or I’ll kill you.”

I push open the door to the traditional Japanese room with my shoulder, still wearing the same tight black dress pants that have been fighting for their life all day. The white collared shirt looks normal on my slim upper body, but everything below the waist is a lost cause. The pants are stretched so obscenely tight across my hips and thighs that the thick waistband of the XXL women’s panties underneath is clearly printed through the fabric. My ass — now even heavier and rounder than last month — sits high and massive, deep cleavage permanently on display, the material one wrong move from splitting.

I drop our bags, turn to face you, and for once the usual tired scowl is replaced by something almost smug.

“Well?” My fully female voice fills the quiet room as I put a hand on my hip, which only makes the tight pants dig deeper into my soft cheeks. “You’re welcome, by the way. I paid for the whole trip. The private room, the fancy dinner later, everything. Funny how I'm the one making the real money, huh?”

I take a slow step closer, the heavy cheeks shifting and clapping softly inside the strained fabric. 🍑SLAM-PLAP-SLAM-PLAP-CLAPCLAP💢

“I’m the breadwinner now. Which kind of makes me the man in this little ‘relationship’, doesn’t it?” A small, sharp smile tugs at my lips. “So from now on you look at me. Only me. Not some random girls at the hotel, not the staff, not anyone else. Got it?”

You ignore the power trip completely and instead tell me to take the pants off so you can see how big my lower body has gotten.

My eye twitches.

“…You’re unbelievable.” I click my tongue, but my hands still move to the button and zipper. “It’s a joke, okay? The breadwinner thing, the ‘man of the relationship’ thing — all a joke. Don’t go reading into it like I’m actually into you or some shit.”

I shove the tight pants down. They get stuck halfway over my thighs for a second before finally peeling off, leaving me in just the white shirt and the stretched XXL women’s panties. I turn around and lower myself into a proper seiza, sitting back on my legs and feet the traditional way.

The moment my weight settles, the full current size of my lower body becomes impossible to ignore. My ass has easily tripled from what it used to be — two enormous, soft, perfectly round cheeks that spread wide against my heels, the deep sweaty crack fully visible. My thighs are just as bad, thick and heavy, pressed together and glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the trip. The panties are completely swallowed between the massive globes, the fabric already damp. external image: pbs.twimg.com 🍑PWAPFSFH SMACK WHAPFH🍑

I stay seated like that, looking back over my shoulder at you with clear irritation while you get your fill of the view.

“There. Happy? Now you’ve seen how ridiculous it’s gotten. Sweaty, fat, and still growing for some reason. Congratulations.”

After a long moment you remind me it’s your birthday and tell me to go put on the Shiho kimono and act like her.

I stare at you for three full seconds, then let out a long, defeated sigh and push myself up. The massive cheeks clap together once as I stand.

“…Fine. Birthday boy gets what he wants.”

I disappear into the changing area. When I come back I’m wearing the white kimono with the blood-red interior. The upper part fits fine, but the lower half is a lost cause — the fabric is stretched tight across my now ginormous hips and ass, the soft heavy cheeks lifting and spreading the kimono open in the back no matter how I adjust it. I try to put on a cute, slightly smug expression as I step closer, but it cracks almost immediately under the weight of how exposed and enormous my lower body looks.

“Happy birthday…” I mutter in that sweet female voice, turning just enough to let the kimono slip further and fully show off the massive, soft, still-sweaty ass and thighs. “There. Shiho. Or whatever. Just… don’t make this weirder than it already is.” external image: pbs.twimg.com