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contains rapid pregnancy, a bit of stuffing, in first person. I stood back, and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes took in the thickness of my thighs, strengthened by the heavy weight they had to lift. My hips widened by the load they bore. My sweatpants, formerly quite loose, now barely holding together on my enhanced lower body. My breasts, expanded and laying heavy atop that which had enhanced them. My button-down shirt, four sizes too large for me, can barely contain my belly, with buttons now straining to hold together. And sitting heavily in the center of all, was my huge, beautiful, round belly, skin stretched thin over a tum large enough to carry triplets. And then I sighed, because I knew it wasn't real. My thighs and hips? Padded foam. My breasts? An overstuffed bra. My belly - the crown jewel, the one thing I desired most in this world? Just an inflated latex balloon, inside of some shapewear. Still, the sight of myself, heavily pregnant, made my heart flutter with