Belly Inflation Stories

My sister-in-law, Sabine Vire, deliberately swapped my prenatal medication with abortion pills. As a result, my eight-month-old baby was gone. As I cried until I nearly collapsed from grief, my husband, Cassian Thorne, held me tightly and murmured, "Don’t worry. You’ll have another child." Three months later, I became pregnant again—this time with triplets. Overwhelmed with joy, I was just about to share the wonderful news with Cassian when I overheard a conversation between him and his friends. "All five of you didn’t use protection, right? I want to see how many brats her belly can carry. The wager is $50 million." "I bet three." "I bet one." Cassian burst into laughter. "If we’re betting, then we’re going big. I bet six. Who told her to slap my precious Sabine? If she can pop out a few brats to make Sabine happy, that’s her blessing." Sabine, the very woman who had fed me the abortion pills, was Cassian's beloved.

Ilaria, though an Alpha's daughter, endured years of abuse at the hands of her older sister Calista. Her father trafficked her mother, forced himself upon them, then abandoned them both. She was an Omega anyone could trample on. Reed's arrival changed everything. He sought to marry the Alpha's daughter to solidify his political path, but Calista drugged him. But, Ilaria unexpectedly slept with Reed. Enraged, Ilaria’s father expelled her from home and cut off her mother’s medical expenses. Swallowing her pride, she begged Alpha Reed, “Please lend me ten thousand dollars.” He touched her belly and told her she was carrying their puppy. Alpha Reed said, “Marry me, and I’ll give you a million.” She thought he was marrying her only for surrogacy, but instead, she became Alpha Reed’s Luna. The famously ruthless Reed family showered her with affection. Later, Ilaria learned that when he was sixteen, Reed had been searching for his fated mate—and that mate was her. (In time, Ilaria herself became a powerful wolf.)

My roommate beamed with pride as she told me a horrifying secret: she had allowed a wealthy businessman to "remove" her unborn child, claiming he absorbed the baby’s fortune in exchange for a hefty payout. Chills ran down my spine. I urged her to stop meddling with such dark dealings before it destroyed her, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she threw herself into it, addicted to helping people "transfer luck" for money. Her luck ran out when she contracted a mysterious disease. When her boyfriend found out, she turned on me, tearfully accusing me of tying her to another man’s bed. Before I could even defend myself, an enraged man ran me down with his car. The next thing I knew, I woke up to find myself back in time. My roommate was leaning in close, her eyes glinting with excitement as she whispered, asking if I wanted to join her "luck transfer" schemes. This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. I noticed the slight swell of her belly and immediately sent a text to her boyfriend: "Congrats! You’re going to be a dad!"

When Levi Ezra and I got married, he had solemnly vowed he would love me for a lifetime. Seven years later, he got another woman pregnant — a woman he had so carefully tucked away in a luxurious estate, complete with everything money could buy for a perfect, pampered delivery. By the time I discovered the truth, his mistress's belly was already round and heavy. Her due date was just around the corner. Levi had hesitated — for barely a second — before instinctively shielding her behind him, as though I were some threat. He said, "Nikki, you're terrified of childbirth. Now that this baby is coming, the Ezra family will finally have an heir. You won't have to suffer anymore. We'll still be the same as before. Nothing will change." I clutched the freshly issued pregnancy report in my hand — the one confirming my own child — and let out a laugh so sharp and brittle that it shattered into tears. The day his mistress went into labor, I terminated my pregnancy. I left the divorce papers on his desk, packed my bags, and boarded the first flight to a foreign land.

My husband’s first love had a miscarriage. He insisted that it was my doing and forced me to give my daughter up. “If it weren’t for you, Becky wouldn’t have a miscarriage! You should let her have your baby! You must pay for her pain of losing her baby!” I begged for mercy and resisted him. However, he grabbed my hair and kicked my belly even though I had just delivered my baby. He tied me up and locked me up in the basement for fear that I might run away. But I was dying. He even made a nice excuse. “You’re petty and jealous. You harmed Becky too. Since you feel no remorse, I’ll punish you and lock you up in the basement to reflect on your mistakes!” Seven days later, his first love found the baby too noisy and got annoyed by the baby. Suddenly, he thought of me. “Let her have the baby. And see if she’s behaving herself.” Little did he know that I was rotting in the basement with maggots eating away at my body.

My husband Bill and his beautiful assistant Doris are laughing and eating like they're on a first date. But the joke is on me... I'm here, Bill's wife, watching them from across the room, tending to my flat belly where a little life is now living. Of course, Bill doesn’t know about the baby yet. The news is still fresh in my mind, barely a few hours old. It is supposed to be a family dinner gathering, but I'm never the welcome one but an outsider. Watching Bill take the steak cut and handed over by Doris, his young age best friend who knows him the best, I guess I'm spoiling their fun by telling them now that I'm having a baby. Three years of marriage, and his frequent absences from the family left me feeling overwhelmed and alone. I've even forgotten the reason we got married. Maybe it was a mistake to begin with. Finally, I made a decision. Divorce. But a man came along and shifted things dramatically. And it didn't occur to me that this man was still deeply connected to bill's family. He was Bill's uncle.

It's too cruel to say my destiny is not lucky. Maybe what is right to imply it is my destiny to be unlucky as you are. I introduce Sintia, the only child who was legally adopted as a biological child. For 35 years my life is full of twists and turns, you can say I am a person who is formed from a family that is Brochen Home, my escape is by pursuing hobbies and looking for as many friends as possible. I am more comfortable telling stories and sharing life stories with male friends. This is what makes them all friends but intimate in my life. The reason is simple, because a male friend is smart in keeping secrets and is good at giving positive advice. The story of my life continues to twist, like a beach blade. Whether it is family problems, problems with young friends who often bully, problems with love, work, household and others. I keep trying to find a good way out and I try to be strong and endure all the trials of life. How not to go crazy over it or kill yourself over it all. "True Story" Sintia Novel Series

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT (18+) This book is a collection of steamy short romantic and erotic stories that will awaken your inner desire. Great for readers longing for a hot, seductive and sensual read. Each story offers a captivating retreat into a space where eroticism and desire reigns free. Tell me which story captures your attention. This book is strictly for matured readers.

Sinful Seduction is a scorching collection of forbidden short stories where desire defies rules and restraint. From taboo office affairs to reckless nights between enemies, each tale explores lust at its most dangerous and delicious. Secrets unravel, boundaries blur, and pleasure takes control. In a world where temptation reigns, every touch becomes a sinful invitation.

Erotic and Smut collection that will make you trun on. A collection of steamy stories about love, lust, and the moments that cross the line. Each chapter tells a new tale—different people, different desires, but the same fire that pulls them together. Some crave control, others want to lose it. In every story, passion burns bright, and nothing stays innocent for long.