Giantess Stomach Novels & Stories

Leonard Cole, was never meant to survive, Not the accident that took both his parents when he was seven, Not the poverty that swallowed him whole after, Not the world that looked at him every single day and saw absolutely nothing worth saving. But Leo survived. And not just that, he fought. Quietly, furiously, on an empty stomach and broken shoes, he fought for a future that nobody around him believed he deserved. Then he met Elena Hartwell, beautiful, warm, the daughter of a Texas millionaire, and for the first time in his life, Leo felt like maybe the universe owed him one good thing. But nothing in Leo's life has ever come without a price. Because someone has been watching him. Long before Elena. Long before school. Someone who knows something about Leonard Cole that even Leo himself doesn't know yet. And closer to home, Elvano Reyes, the dangerous son of a millionaire who wants Elena for himself, has a connection to Leo that goes deeper than jealousy. Deeper than rivalry. Something personal. Something that started long before either of them walked into the same classroom. As Elena's cold and calculating mother works tirelessly to destroy what Leo and Elena have built together, and secrets from the past begin crawling toward the surface, Leo's whole world is about to crack open in ways he never saw coming. He will lose everything and He will break completely. And then, he will rise in a way that shocks everyone who ever looked through him. But the biggest question isn't whether Leo becomes powerful. It's what he does with that power when the girl who shattered him comes crawling back. The decision will be yours.

I signed for my sister's dinner. Not for love. Not for glory. Just so she wouldn't go to bed hungry again. Now I'm carrying his heir — and Clause 7 says I'll never see this baby's face. Elara is an omega with nothing left. So when Alpha Kael Blackwood — cold, haunted, called the Ice Alpha — offers her a contract, she doesn't hesitate. One year. One heir. $200,000. Live in his house. Carry his child. Leave when it's over. What the fine print hides: Clause 7. If the baby is a male heir — a True Alpha — Elara's parental rights end at birth. No visits. No goodbyes. Just a check and a locked door. She discovers this at fourteen weeks. After the morning sickness. After the first kick. After she's already named her daughter. Kael Blackwood is not a good man. He buried his entire pack at nineteen. He hasn't smiled since. But Elara sees the cracks. The hallway light he leaves on because she's afraid of the dark. Her sister's crayon drawings taped to his fridge. The way his hand hovers over her stomach — never touching — when he thinks she's asleep. He's not supposed to care. She's not supposed to want him to. When an old enemy discovers Elara's pregnancy carries the prophesied heir, the contract becomes a death warrant. Kael must choose: Follow pack law and lose her forever. Or burn his legacy down — and keep her. The Ice Alpha's Contract is a complete standalone dark werewolf romance. No cheating. No non-con. Pregnancy from Chapter One. Guaranteed HEA. ---

On my birthday, I proposed a family trip to the northern grasslands. My younger sister, Clara Harrington, who was studying in the southern territory, decided to drive through the forest to meet up with us. But unexpectedly, she was attacked by Rogue wolves in the woods, and her body was never found. My parents, Oscar Harrington and Margaret Vale, placed all the blame on me for her death and cast me out of the family. Overwhelmed with guilt and sorrow, I left the pack to atone for my sins. I took on odd jobs to earn money to send home, all while searching for any trace of Clara. Three years later, I found myself in the southern territory and began working as a delivery runner for a forest cafe. One day, while delivering an order to Werewolf Academy, I saw my parents and Clara standing at the school gate. She said, "Dad, Mom, Adeline has been wandering for three years. Shouldn't we let her come home?" But my mother replied calmly, "She is too selfish. It's only right that she suffers a little. We can bring her back once she realizes her mistakes." My father nodded in agreement. "Let her wander for another year. We'll bring her home next year." I clutched my stomach, my face pale as I forced out a bitter laugh. Three years of exhaustion had left me gravely ill. My wolf was gone, and I only had three days left to live. I could't wait until next year for my father to come and take me home.

Morgan loved him with her entire heart. She sacrificed everything for him, her life, her family, her career, her dignity, all in the hope that he would love her back. "What are these?" Morgan whispered her voice shaky, staring at the papers tossed on the table. She looked up at her husband of three years. "Dante, what is this?" "Sign the papers. We're getting divorced." He said with a straight face. Just like that, all the years of her life spent loving him and pining after him wasted like that. The baby in her stomach she had planned to tell him about weighed heavily on her mind. But a divorce? She hadn't seen that coming. "I was with you only because you looked like her." He proceeded to say. "Sign the papers and get out of my house." Once his first love returned, he was quick to cast her away like used trash. Morgan, determined to move on with her life, left him. He had no idea who she was. It was time for her to come back home. After the breakup, fate brought them back together. But the Morgan of now was no longer the sad girl in love with him. Now the CEO is the Rosewood Enterprises, she vows to reclaim her life back. Dante realized he was in love with her, and tries to get her back. But there's a new man in her life now. Will she forgive Dante, or will she move on from him completely? How will she handle the challenges thrown at her? How will she continue to rise to the top and overthrow her enemies? Or will she succumb to the voices? Read to find out.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

Kyra Hopkins doesn’t believe in marriage and long term relationships. She co-manages her dream job with her two best friends Lily and Bipasha. With the two worried about her no-dating state, they hit a club with plans to GET KYRA LAID. In a White tiny dress they leave her in a bar nurturing a glass of water and pondering what exactly her newest client’s birthday party theme should be. Horses or cars. That’s what she voices out to the sinfully hot man who took the seat beside hers. And he’s got Kyra’s feet feeling like they were lit on fire. Worst of all, she got what it meant to have butterflies flutter in your stomach walls. Best of all, the man knows what she wants and he wants it too and more. Kyra got in for the ride of her life, planned for a weekend because remember? Kyra doesn’t do long term. But then, neither is Nicholai Damien Ivanov or Sin as he’s more popularly known as into long term relationships. One night stands or at a stretch a weekend fling. Why does the angel in white getting stuck in his head and refusing to leave? Why couldn’t his PI track her from the little information she dropped about herself. The questions haunted his nights and refused to leave until he caught sight of his Angel in a black dress on another man’s arm, then his sister hugged her referring to her as Kyra while his Angel introduced herself to him as April. Sin got his answer and meant to show her how much they weren’t over yet. In fact they hadn’t even begun. It was just the beginning of Nicholai Ivanov’s obsession with his one-night stand.

My ex-husband is getting married. and.... I’m the one hired to plan the wedding. My name is Arabella Paloma Garcia. Five years ago, I was arranged to marry an Italian heir with an angel’s face and the personality of something between a blizzard and a natural disaster: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. We spent one year of marriage arguing hard enough to make a lawyer retire early. Then his ex came back, and I left with a divorce bracelet on my finger… and a pair of babies in my belly. Now I live in San Francisco. I own a wedding planning company, I’m a single mom to two demon twins, and I’m very, very proud of the fact that the name Ricciardi doesn’t appear anywhere in my life. Until one email lands in my inbox: Ricciardi–Marino Wedding. Groom: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. Bride: Alessandra Marino… the woman who once became the reason I got kicked out of his life. I should’ve said no. But Alessandra is infuriating, and I want to prove I’m over Rafael. So I take the job. But he walks in with a cold stare that sends my stomach straight to the floor. No recognition. A helicopter crash two years ago wiped six years of his life. Including me. Including our marriage. Perfect. I’ll plan my ex-husband’s wedding, send him down the aisle, and go back to my life. The plan goes smoothly. Right up until the wedding day. The bride disappears. The guests are waiting. The media is already rolling. And Rafael closes the bridal suite door… drops a bomb that earns him my fist in his face: “You’re the one who going to walk down the aisle with me.”

Adeline was a journalist. She was a career-driven woman, who would do anything for her passion. she was independent, smart and a strong female lead, who was willing to take risks. What if she had no choice but to pretend to be a guy as part of her job to expose a mafia boss? He was not only a mafia boss but also the god of the underworld. He was all alone throughout his entire life without much knowledge about the female species. What if he caught feelings for Adeline who was disguised as a petite guy with a clumsy attitude? Would he find her true identity? ******************** As I neared him, I stumbled upon the carpet and I landed on his lap with my stomach on his thighs with a yelp. Unintentionally, my left palm made direct contact with his crotch. He jerked at my sudden intrusion, wrapping his arms around my waist. Both of us were too shocked to move, suddenly I could feel him grow harder under my palm, my eyes widened. I couldn't see his reaction, I stood up from his lap as if my ass caught on fire. He was frozen to his spot as if he couldn't believe what happened now. My face flushed with embarrassment. He didn't even take a glance at my face. "I'm sorry, sir, It…” "Let's get back to the office.”I was cut off by his voice. For some reason, my eyes strayed to his crotch and I could see his bulge very much visible on his front. "Mr. Sandros!" he yelled my name. I snapped my eyes to his face to see him already looking at me, my eyes widened. Join the journey of Adeline Sandros

There's an unspoken rule in my household—everyone has to engage in a drinking competition during the holidays. Whoever gets wasted first will have to pay off one year's worth of house and car mortgages for the other two siblings. In the first year, I collapsed after my first glass of alcohol. I had to pay the house mortgage for my oldest sister, Dahlia Zeller. In the second year, as soon as I picked up my glass, I fainted right away. Since then, I had to pay off Jasmine Zeller, my second sister's car loan. For the next 20 years, I've always been the loser. In the end, my wife, Jean McCarthy, is forced to jump off a building because of the huge debt I've racked up. The debtors keep dumping paint onto my residence, forcing me to deter away from it. Ransacked by guilt, I end up damaging my stomach from overdrinking when I attempt to train my alcohol tolerance. As a result, half of my liver has gotten removed. When I'm on the verge of death, I hear my parents snickering outside my ward. "Don't you think we've laced too many sleeping pills in his drink? He almost didn't wake up back then!" "It's fine. He's an idiot who merely thinks he has a low alcohol tolerance. Our family still relies on him for financial survival, you see. We can keep drugging him so that he'll keep getting wasted." When I open my eyes again, I've already gotten reborn in the timeframe when I'm sitting at the dining table in the 20th year.

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"