Assorted Captions

Adonia awoke listening to birdsong. The three sparrows she had charmed yesterday were perched at her window, chirping away, precisely as she had instructed them. Rising, she waved her hand, dismissing them, and they scattered away, rising back into the trees that surrounded her palatial estate.
My abilities grow by the hour, she mused. Convincing the birds to do her bidding yesterday had seemed like an incredible feat — now, however, it seemed childishly simple.
Adonia strutted to her mirror and examined herself. The refinements to her body were less dramatic these days, she had to admit, but they were still obvious to her well-trained eye. The last stubborn ounce of excess fat that had been clinging to her midsection was finally gone, leaving her with perfectly-toned abdominals. She noted that her navel appeared to have shrunken slightly. Perhaps it will eventually disappear completely, to hide the evidence that I was ever involved in such messy and worldly process as childbirth.
The difference between her current splendor and her appearance just six weeks previous was almost literally unbelievable. If she were not experiencing it herself, she probably would not have accepted it as truth. And yet, how else to explain how a short, fat, ugly hispanic girl with the awfully-inappropriate name Adonia now towered above the rest of humanity in every category, including literally?
The seven-foot-tall woman turned and dressed for the day: a single bangle around her wrist; a walnut-sized golden orb on a strap around her neck; two golden hoops in her ears. Nothing else needed to conceal her body from her adoring worshippers. These signs of her power were all she needed, nudity being its own sign.
A small priesthood was already forming, Adonia plucking the most beautiful of the women who arrived for personal service to her. They had been tasked with keeping her fed and watered, until she no longer felt the need to eat, and then with waking her, until she decided a more natural approach was available. Now they were there to manage the estate and the flocks of curiosity-seekers come to meet the youthful beauty.
No one ever whispered the word “Goddess” in her presence, of course. Adonia publicly refused to consider such blasphemy. But alone, she reveled in the idea. She could feel power bursting away within her, reshaping her to better control it. Her body was immensely strong — she had stopped being able to challenge herself after lifting a railroad car over her head — and her mental abilities were increasing at a phenomenal rate. She had recently rederived all of Representation theory in her head in an afternoon, and was idly working over the problem of the Poincaré conjecture, having skimmed the Perelman papers yesterday.
But this was all a side-show, Adonia was beginning to suspect. The power over the birds proved it. She was certain that if she were to summon Priestess Lacey, the woman’s thoughts would be visible to her, as easily as examining her own mind. Perhaps, she wondered, even… control. And her body! Lacey was a gorgeous woman, with her most prominent asset her full, proud bust. Adonia visualized it swelling yet larger, her adoring priestess becoming a bosomy miracle, her breasts as large as watermelons.
There was a crashing noise, and the door to Adonia’s chambers was flung open. Turning, Adonia was entirely unsurprised to see Lacey herself standing there, newly-inflated breasts spilling out of her grasp. “Mistress Adonia, I— I— I felt the need to come to your chambers, and this started! I do not understand!”
Adonia gazed upon her servant with lust. “Do not worry, Lacey, you have done exactly what I desired. Please, come forward and receive your reward…” the growing goddess said, eyes glinting with power.

Adonia awoke listening to birdsong. The three sparrows she had charmed yesterday were perched at her window, chirping away, precisely as she had instructed them. Rising, she waved her hand, dismissing them, and they scattered away, rising back into the trees that surrounded her palatial estate.

My abilities grow by the hour, she mused. Convincing the birds to do her bidding yesterday had seemed like an incredible feat — now, however, it seemed childishly simple.

Adonia strutted to her mirror and examined herself. The refinements to her body were less dramatic these days, she had to admit, but they were still obvious to her well-trained eye. The last stubborn ounce of excess fat that had been clinging to her midsection was finally gone, leaving her with perfectly-toned abdominals. She noted that her navel appeared to have shrunken slightly. Perhaps it will eventually disappear completely, to hide the evidence that I was ever involved in such messy and worldly process as childbirth.

The difference between her current splendor and her appearance just six weeks previous was almost literally unbelievable. If she were not experiencing it herself, she probably would not have accepted it as truth. And yet, how else to explain how a short, fat, ugly hispanic girl with the awfully-inappropriate name Adonia now towered above the rest of humanity in every category, including literally?

The seven-foot-tall woman turned and dressed for the day: a single bangle around her wrist; a walnut-sized golden orb on a strap around her neck; two golden hoops in her ears. Nothing else needed to conceal her body from her adoring worshippers. These signs of her power were all she needed, nudity being its own sign.

A small priesthood was already forming, Adonia plucking the most beautiful of the women who arrived for personal service to her. They had been tasked with keeping her fed and watered, until she no longer felt the need to eat, and then with waking her, until she decided a more natural approach was available. Now they were there to manage the estate and the flocks of curiosity-seekers come to meet the youthful beauty.

No one ever whispered the word “Goddess” in her presence, of course. Adonia publicly refused to consider such blasphemy. But alone, she reveled in the idea. She could feel power bursting away within her, reshaping her to better control it. Her body was immensely strong — she had stopped being able to challenge herself after lifting a railroad car over her head — and her mental abilities were increasing at a phenomenal rate. She had recently rederived all of Representation theory in her head in an afternoon, and was idly working over the problem of the Poincaré conjecture, having skimmed the Perelman papers yesterday.

But this was all a side-show, Adonia was beginning to suspect. The power over the birds proved it. She was certain that if she were to summon Priestess Lacey, the woman’s thoughts would be visible to her, as easily as examining her own mind. Perhaps, she wondered, even… control. And her body! Lacey was a gorgeous woman, with her most prominent asset her full, proud bust. Adonia visualized it swelling yet larger, her adoring priestess becoming a bosomy miracle, her breasts as large as watermelons.

There was a crashing noise, and the door to Adonia’s chambers was flung open. Turning, Adonia was entirely unsurprised to see Lacey herself standing there, newly-inflated breasts spilling out of her grasp. “Mistress Adonia, I— I— I felt the need to come to your chambers, and this started! I do not understand!”

Adonia gazed upon her servant with lust. “Do not worry, Lacey, you have done exactly what I desired. Please, come forward and receive your reward…” the growing goddess said, eyes glinting with power.

Hmmph, rare that I write one that absolutely no one likes.

"What in the world—?"
"Oh, Ms. Fleichman! I was wondering when you were going to show up." The teacher gazed in shock and horror at the corpulent, enormous woman standing at the head of the classroom. She towered over the veteran elementary school instructor, easily nine feet tall, and Ms. Fleichman would not have been surprised if she weighed over a thousand pounds.
"What is the meaning of this? Who are you? Where is my class?"
“Urp! I’m sorry, Ms. Fleichman, I just got so hungry, I couldn’t stop myself. They’re all in here now,” the fat woman said, slapping the side of her gut. “And they tasted so good, it’s hard to describe! But I know I shouldn’t have done it, especially because you were always talking about how we are in a position of power in the school, and can’t abuse it.”
Ms. Fleichman squinted at the woman’s face. “Jenny?”
"Yep, I’m your TA," she said, "and I’m really sorry."
"You— you ate them? All of them?”
"Yes, and I’m so, so sorry! I saved Suzie for last, because you know how she was my favorite, and I hoped the rest of the class might sate me enough to skip her, but nope." Jenny belched again, her bulk shifting and settling as she moved.
"But how? I mean, you were tiny before, but now— you’re—"
"I know! Isn’t it great? You were always telling me I should stand up for myself more, Ms. Fleichman, and now I bet I’ll never get pushed around again." She groaned slightly then, rubbing her belly, and Ms. Fleichman heard a low but distinct rumbling noise from its titanic depths.
"To tell you the truth," Jenny said, taking a big step forward, "I’m sort of hungry again already."
Ms. Fleichman barely had time to react. “Jenny, don’t—”
With one swift motion, Jenny grabbed the terrified teacher and jammed her into her mouth, her jaw dramatically unhinging to consume most of the teacher’s torso. One deep swallow later, and the grey-haired woman slid whole into Jenny’s cavernous belly.
"Ahh, much better," Jenny sighed, her hunger pangs momentarily sated. At some point, she knew, she would have to deal with the consequences of having devoured an entire classroom of first-graders. And their teacher. But maybe, if she got lucky, she could just… you know… keep eating her way through problems like that as they arose.
"It’s gotten me this far, anyway," she muttered, looking around for something she could wrap around her breasts so she could be decent when she finally decided to leave the classroom. The flag definitely wasn’t big enough…

"What in the world—?"

"Oh, Ms. Fleichman! I was wondering when you were going to show up." The teacher gazed in shock and horror at the corpulent, enormous woman standing at the head of the classroom. She towered over the veteran elementary school instructor, easily nine feet tall, and Ms. Fleichman would not have been surprised if she weighed over a thousand pounds.

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you? Where is my class?"

Urp! I’m sorry, Ms. Fleichman, I just got so hungry, I couldn’t stop myself. They’re all in here now,” the fat woman said, slapping the side of her gut. “And they tasted so good, it’s hard to describe! But I know I shouldn’t have done it, especially because you were always talking about how we are in a position of power in the school, and can’t abuse it.”

Ms. Fleichman squinted at the woman’s face. “Jenny?”

"Yep, I’m your TA," she said, "and I’m really sorry."

"You— you ate them? All of them?”

"Yes, and I’m so, so sorry! I saved Suzie for last, because you know how she was my favorite, and I hoped the rest of the class might sate me enough to skip her, but nope." Jenny belched again, her bulk shifting and settling as she moved.

"But how? I mean, you were tiny before, but now— you’re—"

"I know! Isn’t it great? You were always telling me I should stand up for myself more, Ms. Fleichman, and now I bet I’ll never get pushed around again." She groaned slightly then, rubbing her belly, and Ms. Fleichman heard a low but distinct rumbling noise from its titanic depths.

"To tell you the truth," Jenny said, taking a big step forward, "I’m sort of hungry again already."

Ms. Fleichman barely had time to react. “Jenny, don’t—”

With one swift motion, Jenny grabbed the terrified teacher and jammed her into her mouth, her jaw dramatically unhinging to consume most of the teacher’s torso. One deep swallow later, and the grey-haired woman slid whole into Jenny’s cavernous belly.

"Ahh, much better," Jenny sighed, her hunger pangs momentarily sated. At some point, she knew, she would have to deal with the consequences of having devoured an entire classroom of first-graders. And their teacher. But maybe, if she got lucky, she could just… you know… keep eating her way through problems like that as they arose.

"It’s gotten me this far, anyway," she muttered, looking around for something she could wrap around her breasts so she could be decent when she finally decided to leave the classroom. The flag definitely wasn’t big enough…

(Source: belle-et-ronde, via onemorebitebp)

Anonymous asked: Anything age progression again please. Miss those old ones.

There you go.

Devasree sat still and tried not to cry as the lawyer read through her mother’s will. She’d been very good all week, trying and mostly succeeding at not crying since her entire extended family had perished in a freak accident, leaving little nine-year-old Devasree – Deva for short – all alone in the world.
"We’ll appoint a guardian for Deva, of course," the man was explaining to the state caretaker. "The family has more than enough wealth that we don’t have to worry about that." He flipped through some more papers. "As for specific bequests… the contents of her mother’s safe deposit box are to be provided to her. I’ve taken the liberty of having that delivered to her room. Everything else passes to a trust that the firm will manage until Deva reaches the age of eighteen." He nodded smartly and collected the papers. "I’ll begin the process of selecting a overness, and keep you appraised."
Deva silently went to her room. She didn’t want a governess. She didn’t care about some stupid trust. She just wanted her mother.
The safe deposit box was sitting on her desk, the key next to it. Rubbing at her eyes, Deva sat down and opened the box.
Inside was a single gorgeous necklace, with an cluster of rubies set in gold, and a short letter.

Darling Deva,
If you are reading this, it means I have passed on before I have been able to gift you with the power that is yours by birthright – the magic of the Ruby of Haridwar. Wearing it opens you to incredible power to reshape the world to your desires.
The Ruby is how I opened our family to the power and influence we now wield, and I hope you use it wisely and justly. I know your heart is pure, and your mind clear. Make me proud, and carry our family’s legacy forward.
I will love you forever,Your Mother

Wordlessly, Deva raised the necklace over her head and placed it around her neck. Every fiber of her being wanted her mother back, and did not want to be watched over by whatever stuffy governess the lawyer was sure to select.
Immediately, Deva felt an incredible warmth flow through her, as if she’d jumped into a hot bathtub. Stumbling to the mirror, she watched as her skinny, youthful body began to lengthen, her head inching higher and higher every moment. She was engrossed as she watched her face thin down, some of her baby fat melting away from her features.
As she continued to grow taller, however, Deva found that other parts of her body were growing in altogether different ways. Her breasts, for example, were rapidly swelling larger. She was quite pleased by this — she’d only received her first bra a month previously, and the indignity of only needing a ‘training’ bra had rankled. Now, though, Deva’s breasts were outpacing everyone else in her middle school classes, and she knew she had more growing to do.
Middle school? She thought with a start. Searching her memories, Deva found that knowledge was flooding into her mind, backfilling the years she was now skipping thanks to the Ruby. Already smart, the Ruby extrapolated generously, Deva’s scholastic career one long high point, with top grades in the most challenging subjects her teachers could throw at the blossoming young woman with the unruly masses of black hair.
And blossoming she was. Now in late high school, Deva had a body that many of the teachers looked upon with envy, and that the sex-ed teacher sheepishly used as a teaching aid — fully clothed, of course — for the effects of puberty on teenage girls. Her breasts, full and heavy; her hips, wide and fertile. If she carried a little extra weight around the middle, well, she owned the look, completely and utterly. Every boy in school dreamed about her curves.
In her memories, she spurned them all. Her will was set on college, and finally reaching the age of majority, when she could finally take control of her family’s trust and really start down the path her mother had laid out for her before her death.
College, she discovered, was every bit of a scholastic romp as public school had been. Deva devoured every bit of instruction she could find, but left without a diploma once she was sure any further time on campus would be a waste. Through it all, her necklace stayed nestled between her fantastic breasts, smoothing over disputes with its power yoked directly to her will.
Now, then, here stood twenty-four-year-old Devasree, Deva to her friends, and fifteen years older than she had been just minutes before. She leaned over slightly, hardly able to believe what had just taken place. But no, there was the truth before her: the necklace, still shining dimly; her body, wide and beautiful, reminiscent of her mother’s gorgeous form; her mind, filled with the knowledge of an expensive, self-directed education. She was mature and ready.
"Look out, world," Deva said, growling at her mirror in the sexiest voice she could muster. "Here comes Deva."

Devasree sat still and tried not to cry as the lawyer read through her mother’s will. She’d been very good all week, trying and mostly succeeding at not crying since her entire extended family had perished in a freak accident, leaving little nine-year-old Devasree – Deva for short – all alone in the world.

"We’ll appoint a guardian for Deva, of course," the man was explaining to the state caretaker. "The family has more than enough wealth that we don’t have to worry about that." He flipped through some more papers. "As for specific bequests… the contents of her mother’s safe deposit box are to be provided to her. I’ve taken the liberty of having that delivered to her room. Everything else passes to a trust that the firm will manage until Deva reaches the age of eighteen." He nodded smartly and collected the papers. "I’ll begin the process of selecting a overness, and keep you appraised."

Deva silently went to her room. She didn’t want a governess. She didn’t care about some stupid trust. She just wanted her mother.

The safe deposit box was sitting on her desk, the key next to it. Rubbing at her eyes, Deva sat down and opened the box.

Inside was a single gorgeous necklace, with an cluster of rubies set in gold, and a short letter.

Darling Deva,

If you are reading this, it means I have passed on before I have been able to gift you with the power that is yours by birthright – the magic of the Ruby of Haridwar. Wearing it opens you to incredible power to reshape the world to your desires.

The Ruby is how I opened our family to the power and influence we now wield, and I hope you use it wisely and justly. I know your heart is pure, and your mind clear. Make me proud, and carry our family’s legacy forward.

I will love you forever,
Your Mother

Wordlessly, Deva raised the necklace over her head and placed it around her neck. Every fiber of her being wanted her mother back, and did not want to be watched over by whatever stuffy governess the lawyer was sure to select.

Immediately, Deva felt an incredible warmth flow through her, as if she’d jumped into a hot bathtub. Stumbling to the mirror, she watched as her skinny, youthful body began to lengthen, her head inching higher and higher every moment. She was engrossed as she watched her face thin down, some of her baby fat melting away from her features.

As she continued to grow taller, however, Deva found that other parts of her body were growing in altogether different ways. Her breasts, for example, were rapidly swelling larger. She was quite pleased by this — she’d only received her first bra a month previously, and the indignity of only needing a ‘training’ bra had rankled. Now, though, Deva’s breasts were outpacing everyone else in her middle school classes, and she knew she had more growing to do.

Middle school? She thought with a start. Searching her memories, Deva found that knowledge was flooding into her mind, backfilling the years she was now skipping thanks to the Ruby. Already smart, the Ruby extrapolated generously, Deva’s scholastic career one long high point, with top grades in the most challenging subjects her teachers could throw at the blossoming young woman with the unruly masses of black hair.

And blossoming she was. Now in late high school, Deva had a body that many of the teachers looked upon with envy, and that the sex-ed teacher sheepishly used as a teaching aid — fully clothed, of course — for the effects of puberty on teenage girls. Her breasts, full and heavy; her hips, wide and fertile. If she carried a little extra weight around the middle, well, she owned the look, completely and utterly. Every boy in school dreamed about her curves.

In her memories, she spurned them all. Her will was set on college, and finally reaching the age of majority, when she could finally take control of her family’s trust and really start down the path her mother had laid out for her before her death.

College, she discovered, was every bit of a scholastic romp as public school had been. Deva devoured every bit of instruction she could find, but left without a diploma once she was sure any further time on campus would be a waste. Through it all, her necklace stayed nestled between her fantastic breasts, smoothing over disputes with its power yoked directly to her will.

Now, then, here stood twenty-four-year-old Devasree, Deva to her friends, and fifteen years older than she had been just minutes before. She leaned over slightly, hardly able to believe what had just taken place. But no, there was the truth before her: the necklace, still shining dimly; her body, wide and beautiful, reminiscent of her mother’s gorgeous form; her mind, filled with the knowledge of an expensive, self-directed education. She was mature and ready.

"Look out, world," Deva said, growling at her mirror in the sexiest voice she could muster. "Here comes Deva."