Bbw Seduction Novels & Stories

After my wife had a miscarriage, the doctor said she could never have children again. She cried and told me to find another woman and to forget about her. I held her in my arms and told her I didn't care about having any children. However, I was smiling when she wasn't looking. The abortion remedy I bought in the countryside had worked much faster than I expected. After all, that child wasn't mine to begin with.

My mom, Allison Ramsey, runs an adult store. One day, I'm so tired that I doze off inside, only to end up accidentally trapped in one of those pleasure beds. When Mr. Palmer from next door walks in, he mistakes me for the store's latest doll and proceeds to pull down my hot pants.

I'm a campus belle who's addicted to carnal pleasures. The frequent triggers caused by my addiction have heavily affected my and Michael Buckley, my boyfriend's lives and studies. Left without a choice, Michael and I can only head over to the campus clinic to undergo treatment that helps me cut down on my addiction. The one administering treatment to me happens to be a well-built doctor. The way he treats me shocks me to no end. Later on, he straps me to the examination table. I'm so frightened that I keep begging him to release me with tears running down my cheeks. But he responds by lifting my legs roughly.

"Don't move!" Coming home late from work, I was sneaking a shower in the shared bathroom of my rental when a warm body suddenly pressed up against me. His rough palm clamped over my mouth, pinning me against the cold tile. He held me there against the damp wall, his skin burning hot against my back as he let out a low, gravelly threat. "My guys are right outside. Just try and scream." Instead of panicking, I leaned back into him, shifting slightly. I tilted my head back and breathed softly into his ear. “So… you want everyone hear? I don't mind… we can give it a try.”

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.

"S-Stop it! You guys are far too big for me! I can't handle you at all!" In the dark slums, a few impoverished men have me lifted in mid-air. I can feel four pairs of rough, callused hands parting my slender legs, revealing my panties. "And here you are, pretending to be pure and innocent! Look at how wet you are right now! You must be yearning for our touch, right?" After that, the men rip off my damp panties before pinning me down…

"Mr. Warden, what's that fun-looking toy you've hidden away in your pants? Pull it out and let us take a look!" When I'm in the middle of making my rounds around the factory's female dormitory, a few young women try to reach for my crotch. Anger floods my senses immediately. At the same time, my body goes rigid from shock. Not only are the women not afraid of me, but they are also eager to witness the physical change of my body. In fact, they want me to pull my manhood out of the zipper just to show them my actual size. In that case, don't blame me for being so straightforward.

My mother sells special éclairs. Each one costs a thousand dollars, but the female customers fight each other to buy them. They look like they can't get enough. My sister wants to take a box to share with her boyfriend when she sees how popular they are. However, my mother firmly rejects her. She says she's the only one who can touch those éclairs. My sister refuses to listen. She secretly sneaks into the freezer in the basement. Then, in the middle of the night, I hear her wanton moans.

"Suzanna, tell me the truth. Am I built better than Luis?" I had gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and accidentally caught a glimpse of my husband's coworker, Hank, with his girlfriend. They were tangled up together, without a care in the world about who might see them. I should have walked away. However, my legs did not seem to work anymore. Hank saw me. The next day, he blocked my path outside the bathroom. "Suzanna," he said, his voice low and amused, "you didn't believe me. Maybe I should prove it." Before I could react, he was already pulling down his pants.

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…