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  • [DELETION] In most if not all of the shots the bear has six toes :c - ceti -
Description

Big momma bear gets even bigger!

This is another use of the free Sora 2 free Beta text to video feature. The sheer quality of what it can do is impressive. However, it's very censored so rather than anything explicit the best you can get is something fetishy but technically safe. It probably won't be free forever so I'd encourage anyone to play around with it while you can. Details for what I do in the tech talk section below.

Here are some alts for different takes on this kind of prompt:

Alt 1 Alt 2 Alt 3 Alt 4 Alt 5

Tech Talk

This video was genned using Sora 2 on Mind Video AI: https://www.mindvideo.ai/

You can get free accounts there with temporary emails, like: https://tempmailo.com/

With a free account you can do up to 4 basic video gens like this a day. Once you run out of attempts you can either wait a day or make another account with another temp email. The basic video gen is free, although all of the tools like on-site editing and upscaling and such cost on-site currency.

This video and all the alts used text to video gens and had variations of the prompt below:

A modern animated movie where a momma bear eats more and more and she gets fatter and fatter with a bigger and bigger belly and by the end covers the entire screen. She speaks with a delighted feminine voice about how good she feels eating and growing.

AI Story - Unbearably Stuffed

In the heart of the ancient pine forest, where sunlight dripped like warm honey through the canopy, lived Momma Bear. She had always been plush, her thick brown fur glossy and soft, her hips wide from seasons of bountiful foraging. But this autumn was different. The salmon ran thicker than anyone could remember, the berry bushes sagged under their own weight, and wild beehives dripped gold from every hollow trunk. Something primal stirred inside her. Every mouthful sent sparks straight between her thighs, a slow, rolling heat that made her thick tail twitch and her breath come shorter.

She started at dawn beside the rushing river. The first salmon leapt silver into her paws, cool scales sliding against her pads. She bit down, and the flesh burst, rich and fatty, blood-warm on her tongue. A low moan rumbled in her chest as the taste flooded her. Sweet fat coated her muzzle, dripped down her chin, and each swallow sent a pulse of liquid heat deep into her belly, then lower. Her hind legs shifted apart without thinking, the soft fur of her inner thighs already damp.

“Gods, yes…” she growled to the empty woods, voice husky. Another fish, then another. She didn’t bother gutting them anymore; she wanted the weight, the slick heaviness sliding whole down her throat. Her belly, once gently rounded, began to swell outward, pressing warm and tight against her thighs. The stretch felt obscene and perfect, like a lover’s hand spreading her open from the inside. She licked her lips, tasting iron and river water, and waded deeper for more.

By midday she had dragged herself to the blackberry thicket. Thorns scraped harmlessly through her pelt as she shoved her snout into the darkest, ripest clusters. Juice exploded across her tongue, tart and syrupy, staining her muzzle purple. She ate like she was starving, like every berry was a tongue lapping at her clit. Her moans grew louder, shameless, echoing through the trees. Each swallow pushed her belly farther forward, the fur stretching shiny and taut, the skin beneath hot and tingling.

She dropped to all fours, then rolled onto her side among the crushed berries, legs splayed. One massive paw slid down the curve of her stomach, claws tracing the drum-tight dome. Lower. Lower. When she finally cupped the swollen heat between her legs she shuddered so hard the ground trembled.
“So full… so fucking full,” she panted, voice thick. Her folds were slick, puffy, aching. She rubbed slow circles, smearing berry juice and her own wetness together, while her other paw scooped more fruit straight into her greedy maw. Chew, swallow, groan. Chew, swallow, stroke. The pleasure coiled tighter with every ounce she packed into herself.

The sun was low when she found the beehives.

Three fat combs hung from a lightning-split oak, dripping gold in the slanted light. The bees had long since fled the cold; the honey was hers. She reared up on hind legs, belly swaying pendulous beneath her, and tore the first comb free. Wax cracked between her teeth like candy. Honey flooded her mouth in a thick, obscene wave, so sweet it made her eyes roll back. She chewed slowly, deliberately, letting it ooze down her throat in heavy pulses.

“Oh fuck… oh fuck yes…” The words slurred around the mouthful. She shoved the rest of the comb in whole, cheeks bulging, honey spilling over her lips and down her neck in sticky rivers. It soaked into her chest fur, glued strands together, ran in warm rivulets over her nipples. The weight in her gut surged, her belly surging outward again, rounder, heavier, impossibly full. She staggered, dropping to all fours, belly brushing the leaves, then pressing into them as it grew too big to clear the ground.

She crawled to the second comb, then the third, eating like a creature possessed. Each swallow was a thrust, each stretch of her stomach a thrust deeper. Her hips rocked helplessly against nothing, grinding her dripping cunt against her own swollen underbelly. The pressure inside her was unbearable, exquisite, every organ shoved aside by the sheer mass of food and honey and pleasure.

When the last drop slid down her throat she collapsed onto her back among the wreckage of the hives. Her belly rose like a mountain above her, impossibly round, skin gleaming, fur matted with honey and berry juice and saliva. It quivered with every breath, with the churning storm inside her. She could hear it: wet gurgles, deep groans of a body stretched beyond reason.

Momma Bear’s paws roamed everywhere at once, kneading the hot dome, pinching her nipples until they throbbed, finally plunging between her thighs. Three thick fingers sank into velvet heat with a lewd squelch. She fucked herself hard, palm grinding her clit, hips bucking as much as her massive gut allowed.
“More… need more… gonna burst…” she sobbed, voice breaking. Her belly sloshed audibly with every thrust. The pressure climbed, white-hot, unbearable. She shoved a fourth finger in, stretching herself wider, honey-slick thumb circling faster.

Her orgasm hit like a tree splitting in a storm.

Her roar shook the forest. Every muscle locked, belly heaving upward as wave after wave crashed through her. Deep inside, something gave, a rolling, liquid release that wasn’t just climax but total surrender. She felt the pressure peak and break, pleasure flooding every inch of her overpacked body. Her cunt clenched hard around her fingers, gushing in long, pulsing spurts that soaked the leaves beneath her. The world went white, then gold, then nothing but the wet thunder of her own heartbeat and the endless, shuddering spasms.

Long minutes later she lay panting, belly still enormous, rising and falling like a tide. Honey cooled sticky on her fur. Somewhere far off an owl called. Momma Bear smiled, slow and sated, tongue lolling, and dragged one lazy claw through the mess between her legs for another trembling aftershock.
Tomorrow the salmon would still run. Tomorrow the berries would still hang heavy.
And Momma Bear was very, very far from finished.

Blacklisted
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