Latest Posts by birthbitchii - Page 8

What a fucking diety.

Save this video before its lost.

Car birth

god I love hearing the phrase "what's happening to me" a close second is "look what you've done to me"

the stage right before crowning is the hottest part of birth to me- the head resting heavily in the birth canal, just beginning to spread the birther's entrance, stretching them inside like they've never been stretched before. and the shoulders are entering the cervix, so they're basically stretched all the way up into their womb......

image that was stuck in my head kinda

After all these years of being a fan....I find out you're actually just a girl craving the darker side to pregnancy.

To grow a monster in your belly.

I wonder which of your bursting stories you really wanted to happen to you

The secret is all of them

People occasionally ask me about the origins of my pregnancy/birth kink, and I just remembered something that I think was pretty crucial.

When I was in middle school I read the book “FEAR,” the fifth installment in a series by Michael Grant. It was honestly a bit too dark, gorey, and violent to be considered a young adult novel, but I digress.

Near the end of the book is a scene where one of the main characters is pregnant, and her pregnancy is accelerated by the external force of a powerful alien. She’s tired and scared to give birth but is forced to do so in a cave deep underground. I’d send the pages but I don’t have the book anymore, sadly.

This is the first and only time I’d ever read about a rapid pregnancy, and I think it really captivated me.

So yeah. Food for thought. Has anyone else ever read this book?

something about a sub birthing a baby that’s so big you can see a huge bulge descending from their lower belly

pretty girl forced to sit down while she's crowning and told to not complain about how much it hurts when the baby's forced back in <3

Not usually into birthing but this was hot

Nobody never SAW this coming

Jenny woke up and tried to look around herself. She could not see, as she was in total darkness. She felt around her the best she could, and noted she was in a chair. Her stomach felt weird, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Her vagina was definitely more sore than she’d ever felt in her life. She sat forward just a touch, and a tv lit up. The face of a man.. doll.. thing she’d seen on the news began to speak. “Jenny Clayton. You have proven you value the potential life of a clump of cells over that of a real living person- over the life of your own sister. You would rather your own flesh and blood die from preventable complications, than seek out medical attention. Today, your values will be put to the test. Once the clock starts ticking, you will be faced with a choice and only 24 hours to make that choice. Finish the task at hand in time, and you just might walk away from this.”

The room lit up enough to see she was in a grungy hospital setting, her legs spread apart in stirrups. Her stomach was still flat, but she did feel weird. Jenny moved one leg off the stirrup, then the other. As soon as her feet touched solid ground, and she stood up, a clock started ticking. From there she doubled over clutching her stomach. It hurt so bad she felt like she was going to throw up. It didn’t take long to realize it was beginning to inflate. “What the f— ooow!” Her stomach grew and grew, to the point of nearly collapsing. A trophy cabinet lit up in the corner. Inside was a long, sharp hook and a note. She slowly walked over to the cabinet- stopping during particularly painful growth spurts. The note only said, “it’s your choice.” “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” As her stomach began to slow in its growth, it became harder to breathe. She saw the timer still had 17 and a half hours on it. Plenty of time to deal with this. She rubbed her stomach, and felt it flutter beneath her hand. “Hello?? Hello!!!” She called out but she was utterly alone. Time dragged on and she found herself getting more scared. She only had 6 hours left when she felt contractions. “SOMEBODY HELP ME!” She screamed as they became stronger and more frequent. It didn’t take long to realize each contraction made her stomach grow more. “I can’t give birth! I’m not ready!” She cried. She eyed the hook but shook her head. She was better than that. Better than her slut sister. She whimpered in pain as she labored on. It wasn’t until there were 3 hours and 18 minutes left on the timer that she felt the need to push. She climbed back onto the table with the stirrups and began to push. She pushed and pushed slowly feeling her birth canal filling. The mass still grew as she pushed and just as her lips began to part, it became firmly lodged at her opening. No amount of pushing helped. The clock began to tick as it counted down, the last half hour. She screamed as the stretching got so bad she begin to tear. She shook her head and strained against it all, before she finally caved. She knew there was only one way to stop this. She slowly climbed back down from the table and began to waddle to the case with the hook. Time seemed to be moving faster but she was moving just that much slower. She had just managed to grab the hook and aim it towards her vagina when the timer buzzed. She had just enough time to look at the clock in horror before her stomach exploded. There was no baby. Instead there was a rubber ball like device inside her, filled with water designed to simulate pregnancy and labor. Had she simply “aborted” it, she’d have walked away with a valuable lesson and sympathy for her sisters decision.

431.3 There’s an alien invasion and they capture some people w uteruses to impregnate them with their species. Problem is their species head is way larger than the human birth canal. Between that and the thick body with extra arms, all of the experiments have ended in long agonizing labors, and death so far. The aliens keep tweaking the genetics but so far to no avail. Your water just broke. Were they able to make the baby (or babies) small enough to fit after another long agonizing labor? Or are you just another casualty. Do you know about the fates of the others going into this? 

———

Number 731 was ever so slightly smaller than her cell mate, 730 and slightly bigger than 732 next door. Mind you, she was fairly certain they each carried twins. Either that or they each carried one large baby. Their captors refused to give them any information of their condition. Either way they all knew they were pregnant.

When 730 went into labor, 731 was able to hear her agonizes screams for days. She counted the days.. one.. two.. three.. the screams got quieter and less frequent.. four.. five.. on the sixth day there was nothing. Her cell mate wasn’t coming back. Neither was the baby. (Babies? She didn’t know.)

Three more days pass, and during this time 731 paced her cell. She had a hand on her back, worrying about what was going to come of her. If 730 didn’t come back.. did any of the others? Had seven hundred and thirty people really come to the same fate? Was she next? A cramp in her abdomen seemed to confirm her question.

The cramps came and went, despite her pacing, or attempts to get comfortable, but she did not cry out. Not yet. She kept her mouth shut until it was time for lights out. In the night there was nothing to muffle her groans of pain. The guard on duty quickly called for the medical team to extract her.

She was carried to the hospital wing and strapped to a bed with her legs spread. Her arms tied down to her sides. The pain in her back amplified greatly. It’s like these beings didn’t realize that laying flat on your back narrows the birth canal.. before they picked her up, she’s dilated to maybe a 6, but since being strapped down her progress stalled. The contractions did less for her.

She groaned through out the night as the aliens constantly roughly checked her with their thick fingers.. by the morning she had barely hit 7cm. They gave her medicine to up the intensity of the contractions but still she stalled. She writhed in pain, now screaming loud enough to scare 732 all the way back at her cell. She tried to hold her stomach, or to move or anything but she could only lay there suffering. Screaming.

Still it was another day and a half before she felt the urge to push. She was exhausted, starving, and still barely able to move. She begged the doctors to let her get out of her bed, let her walk around, let her squat for god sakes!

She pushed the best she could for being laid out. It was hours before she finally felt the baby bulge behind her lips.

The aliens got excited, perhaps 731 is going to be the one?? They watched eatery as the bulge pushed forward creating a sliver, and groaned when the baby slipped backward. A few of them even seemed to place bets, most of them betting against 731 though. It’s the safest bet.

She pushed, she strained, and she screamed. Her face turned red with bursted blood vessels. The baby barely made the sliver stay open. 731 had never felt so full in her life. Never felt so ready to split apart at the seems. Each push began to get weaker, her screams had long since faded. The baby stopped kicking it’s appendages.

The aliens took notes, and scribbled away. It’s the farthest anybody had gotten their baby yet, but the baby had yet to even come to a full crown by the time the monitors confirmed the truth, after 5 days of labor, 731 was just another statistic.

Screams from down the hall perked the aliens attention though.. maybe 732 would have a better chance?

the stage right before crowning is the hottest part of birth to me- the head resting heavily in the birth canal, just beginning to spread the birther's entrance, stretching them inside like they've never been stretched before. and the shoulders are entering the cervix, so they're basically stretched all the way up into their womb......

Wait what are you doing with that syringe? What do you mean more puppies? Look at this belly! I can’t possible fit one more in here…

detective x femme fatale but they’re both pregnant and also lesbians

In the Name of Science

words: 7627

content: birth denial, clothing birth, mutual birth, fpreg

Co-written with the wonderful and endlessly imaginative @shhhsecretsideblog

First entry into the Spell-verse, a series of stories revolving around a town blanketed by a rapid pregnancy and birth spell.

The news already had coined a name for it. Go figure, Char thought, shaking her head at the display of pure pseudoscience on the screen before her.

“Yes, that’s right,” a reporter spoke. “Emergency services have taken a census and The Spell seems to have affected every person able to bear children in the town.”

“The Spell,” Char scoffed, shaking her head. “Call it a virus, a fluke of biology, whatever. Just don’t chalk it up to magic.”

Because if it was magic, that would mean her science would be ineffectual on the obvious life growing inside her belly, now looking full-term with a baby that she hadn’t been pregnant with this morning. It rippled, hanging low between the scientist’s thighs. She placed a palm on her stretched tummy. The evidence, she thought, speaks for itself.

“Shouting at the tele again Char?” Laura said as she waddled into their lab. Her long white coat hung open at her sides, her own newly formed bump making the coat too small to fit round her frame.

“Got you a coffee.” She passed the hot drink to her boss and went over to sit on the stool by her own workstation. It took a bit of navigating, still not used to this extra weight she now carried, but eventually she plumped herself on the high metal chair.

“I mean, they aren’t wrong calling it ‘The Spell.’ What’s happening here is unheard of. All these pregnancies are popping up very much like magic.” Laura rubbed the circumference of her large belly that now sat heavily atop her thighs. She could feel the baby moving inside, it was so strange. Pregnancy and birth was never something she thought she’d experience. She understood it, she knew all about the process, but it was something else entirely actually experiencing it. And going through it all within the space of a day was a bit of a rollercoaster.

They’d done scans and knew they were carrying human babies, it wasn’t anything supernatural or alien, but it was just the speed, it was unprecedented. The baby in her womb shifted and kicked her in the ribs “Oof!” She huffed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” Laura commented to her boss.

Char nodded, smothering the instinct to cup her own belly as devoted her attention back to her work.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to. We’ll find a way to reverse the process without delivery and things will—“ she paused, startled by a twinge in her stomach muscles and the subsequent squirming of the baby inside her. She cleared her throat. “Things will return to normal and we can take the time to research this phenomenon thoroughly.”

Secretly, Char’s urgency stemmed from another reason—already she’d struggled to adapt to the feeling of her body so unrecognizably changed, the idea of a passenger inside her, her body growing and stretching to accommodate it without any of her say in it. Even the tiniest signs of motherhood she steadfastly resisted, trying not to waddle or hold her heavy mound, wearing her usual lab wear instead of anything more comfortable. Yet—

She knew this was nothing compared to birth. She also knew that they were on a strict time limit. Shaking her head, she dispelled these thoughts. ‘We don’t have to worry about that. All we have to worry about is finding a cure,’ she thought.

“You really think we can find a cure before these babies are born?” Laura asked hesitantly. She knew how her boss was handling this sudden change in their bodies, and it wasn’t very well. Not that she’d admit it. She disappeared quickly into the work when it first started happening to people and completely ignored the signs this morning that it was happening to them both as well.

“I’ve heard that some people are already starting to give birth… we might not have the time. Not before these ones are born anyway.” Laura patted her bump affectionately. She wasn’t fighting this as much as her boss. Yes it was a shock, but Laura was leaning into the experience, it was fascinating.

She noticed her belly start to twinge, felt similar to period pains. Laura shifted in her chair, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling, her legs widening on the stool to fit her rounded stomach in between. “Have you had any twinges or cramps or anything?” Laura asked.

Char glanced at Laura, absorbing the gravity of her condition, the way her midsection protruded from her open lab coat and her discomfort that so mirrored Char’s own. “Nope,” she lied easily, convincing herself that it was the weight she was now carrying, that the pressure in her hips and the aching of her back was all because of the new load in her belly.

“Well, I’m not exactly hasty to get these babies out the old-fashioned way,” Char said.

A part of her shared sentiments with Laura, though. Call it a scientific curiosity, but the process of birth was quite a marvel. Another cramp seized her belly and she stiffened slightly, bearing it without note. Her own belly hung low, having dropped without her realizing, but Laura’s taut, overhanging swell was immediately apparent to her.

How about you?” She asked while peering into a microscope.

“I’m not sure… I’m feeling something… oof—” Laura took a sharp breath as the ache peaked before easing off again. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to the quick pregnancy. I’m not in a hurry to give birth myself.”

She didn’t want to say it but the rate at which their stomachs had swelled, Laura didn’t think they would have long before the pangs of labor hit. It was difficult to ascertain how “far along” they were, given the speed in the growth, but judging by the bumps alone Laura guessed her and Char were developing at the same rate.

“We better work fast then, before either of us goes into labor.” Or both of us, Laura thought to herself.

Char pressed her lips together at the reminder, and without knowing she palmed the underside of her swollen stomach, attempting to soothe the tightened muscles.

“Yes, right. Could you come over here and we can analyze these lab reports together. Bring the files from the corner bench, please.”

Her back ached, yet she was too restless to sit and besides, she always worked while standing. She’d be damned if she let this baby inside of her intrude on her routine.

“Sure thing.” Laura said to Char’s instruction. Holding her taut stomach, Laura slipped off the stool onto her feet and waddled over to the corner bench to pick up the files.

Standing seemed to have jolted her baby, feeling the weight sink lower into her hips as it kicked. A sudden sharp tightening slashed across her belly causing her to gasp and grab on to the table. “Mnngh!” She groaned as the muscles pulled and squeezed, its intensity surprising.

“Char… hooo… I think I might be having a con-contraction…” Laura panted through the pain, hips instinctively swaying beneath the white lab coat.

Char snapped her head up from the microscope to see Laura doubled over, clutching the table. With her back flat, her weighty belly seemed to strain toward the ground, dragged downward by gravity. Char watched as Laura swayed her hips in an almost hypnotic pattern, as though instinct had taken over. Her panting, even, seemed instinctual, the sounds of an imminent mother.

“Laura? Hey—“ Char struggled to walk without a waddle, across the room to Laura. She was stopped by a squeezing in her tummy that took her breath away, the entire surface hardening painfully. She dismissed it before it even ended. ‘Braxton Hicks,’ she thought. ‘No big deal. I have time…. Laura, I’m not so sure.’

She placed a palm on Laura’s lower back and she breathed and swayed. “You’re okay,” she said, her usual brisk tone softening. “Just breathe.”

“Hoooo-hoooo…..” Laura forced herself to take measured breaths, in and out, breathing through the sudden pain. Her head dipped and her eyes scrunched, the weight and pressure suddenly peaking before gradually fading away. Slowly the assistant straightened back up and faced her friend (?) and boss.

“Jeeze, that was… intense.” She breathed, rubbing the underside of her belly. “I wasn’t expecting that to come on so fast. Guess I’m in labor. I’ll start running a log of all my symptoms so we can add to our research.” She picked up the earlier requested files and handed them to her boss, noticing a slight glistening of sweat on Char’s forehead. “You still doing okay?”

Char nodded, appearing uncharacteristically distracted. She made an effort to straighten her back, feeling the clamping around her womb subside for now.

“Fine,” she said. Then, appreciative of Laura’s dedication to their studies, “Good work, Laura. If it gets to be too much for you, let me know. Until then, we’ll work around the clock and develop a cure before you progress too far.”

And, before I do as well, Char added to herself.

Noting Laura’s significantly widened stance and the way she stroked and circled her dropped belly, Char felt a twinge of apprehensiveness.

As they worked, fighting the clock, Char listened to Laura’s pained breaths become sharper. Eventually she began to vocalize, softly at first, closing her eyes and rocking her body back and forth, making slight grunts and moaning under her breath.

Char wasn’t in a much better state. Her contractions had grown into strong, regular surges and every time her belly seized up she could only focus on it and the baby inside it preparing to be born. Born, she thought. Not if I can help it. Her familiarity with the process and inevitability of birth did nothing to halt this line of thinking. Yet with each contraction she felt like nothing else existed but her swollen, contracting belly. She released a breath after a particularly brutal one. There was so much pressure. She felt it deep in her hips, wanting so badly to open herself up all the way.

Laura let out a pained groan herself, and Char glanced up.

“H-how are you, mm, holding up?” She asked the other laboring woman.

“As w-well as can be expected… hoooo…” Laura held her heavy belly with one hand, the other leant on her workstation as she swayed through the pain. “They are really picking up now Char, oof, the pressure is a lot.”

The lab assistant had abandoned her chair a while ago, finding the most comfortable position was to stand at her desk as it allowed her to follow her body’s rhythm and its instinct to move. Plus the baby was sinking way too low to be sitting down on that ridiculous high stool. She had spent entire days on that chair working before The Spell, but that idea seemed downright ludicrous to Laura now.

Their research seemed to be slow moving, and it wasn’t entirely down to the fact she was in labor, the science just wasn’t providing them with answers, still proving to be a mystery. She’d been keeping track of her contractions, which were getting dangerously closer together and time was running out.

Whilst the waves of pain coursing through her body every five minutes were consuming, Laura wasn’t oblivious to the fact her boss was also struggling. Perhaps it was because of her own labor she could recognise the signs; the way Char kept moving around the lab and never stayed still, her heavy breathing and occasional moan, and the way her hips would shift and bounce when she thought Laura wasn’t looking. Yup, her boss was almost certainly in labor too. But Laura knew better than to ask her outright.

“Are you feeling okay Char? You’ve been on your feet for quite a w-while now..”

Char tried to imagine sitting and found she couldn’t, with the baby dropped so low, the head pressing heavily on her cervix. She knew from the strain in Laura’s voice and her repeated movements around the room that she was feeling the same pressure and slowly increasing urgency. She wanted to moan, openly sway and rotate her hips against the excruciating pressure, to release instinctual grunts with her contractions like Laura. But, not yet. She couldn’t be in active labor.

“Just frustrated,” Char growled. “We’ve barely made progress and this current batch of tests has yielded no results whatsoever…. mmgh!” She winced, closing her mouth so as not to cry out as a contraction clamped her midsection.

“Also,” she added. “I might—urgh, be experiencing some Braxton Hicks.”

“Oh… braxton hicks… okay.” Laura acknowledged calmly, knowing full well there was nothing false about the pains plaguing Char. “Just try and b-breathe through them. They’ll soon pass. You can move around you know, follow your body’s instincts if you need to, I’m sure it would help with the, errr—false labor pains.”

They continued working in relative silence, except from the unusual noises Laura found herself making through the pains. She thought she heard her boss whimper, and asked “Is there anything I can do to h-help?”

Not that she was capable of doing much, the pains were so strong now she could barely do anything other than catch her breath between waves. Laura stayed close to her work bench, not daring to move too far for fear she’d crumble to the floor. Her bump hung heavy and low off her hips, her baby was pressing hard against her cervix clearly marking its exit. A particularly forceful contract had Laura folded over against the bench, forearms on the white surface, hips jutting back, and her head buried in the crook of her elbow. Her groans had turned more primal, the pressure building to the point she almost mooed like a cow. Something was slipping down, she could feel it. With a grunt Laura felt something give and the immediate dampness that followed trailing down her leg.

“Ummm… Char? Hoooo… I think my water broke.” Laura whimpered into her arm, not daring to move.

Char turned when she heard Laura’s animalistic groans and grunts, undeniably the noises of a woman deep in labor. She saw Laura standing wide-legged, a wet patch forming on her lab trousers and puddling the floor beneath her. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, and Char knew she was feeling the same pressure against her widening cervix as herself, increasingly overcome with the sensation of the head moving into position, the instinctive need to open herself up for the baby getting ready to come out of her.

“Laura—! Hooo um, okay,” Char faltered, taking large waddling steps to Laura and cursing the weight in her pelvis and the unwieldiness of her belly. .Normally in control of the situation, she felt lost at the sight of Laura’s waters puddled on the floor. This was an uncontrollable variable. No matter how much they wanted to keep their babies in, once their bodies decided it was time there was little they could do. But Char wasn’t ready to give in yet.

“I’ll, mmgh, find you some towels,” she promised Laura.

In the hallway she suffered another contraction, and found herself vocalizing freely without Laura around, lowing insistently and arching her back. Without knowing, her knees bent slightly, beginning to sink into a squat. She realized what she was doing and tried to hold herself upright against the hallway wall, but by then the contraction was upon her and she felt a sudden burst of fluid from between her legs.

“Oh…. shit,” she murmured, panting hard.

When she returned with the towels, she met Laura’s gaze and knew that they were both feeling the urgency of birth. They were almost out of time.

The contraction had waned when Char left the room and Laura slowly righted herself and breathed quietly, taking stock of the situation, letting her body adjust and working with the new sensations. The baby was definitely on its way, there was no doubt about that. The breaking of her waters had helped ease the excruciating pressure which had been building, but Laura became more keenly aware of the shape of the baby in her womb without its cushioning.

Taking deep and steady breaths, Laura tried to calm her mind and body. It was during this almost meditative state that she heard the unmissable sound of a woman in deep labor from the corridor. She knew exactly who it was.

Char was a very methodical woman, set in her ways, but she was strong and determined which was a necessity in this field of work. Laura respected her immensely. But it was no surprise to the assistant that her boss was fighting this and seemingly was fighting it to the very end. At some point Char would admit she was in labor, she would have to if she was going to birth her baby. Laura just hoped she would be able to help Char through it when the time comes, and not be consumed by her own birth.

When Char came back she was flushed and sweaty, but gritted a smile as she passed Laura a towel. Laura noticed her boss kept one for herself… strange.

Laura threw the towel on the floor and used her foot to wipe the liquid that was now puddled at her feet. Her trousers were wet but she didn’t want to take them off, she might have known Char for years but wasn’t quite ready to be walking around half naked in front of her boss.

“This baby is definitely coming, I can feel its head right down in my pelvis.” Laura announced, cupping the underside of her large swell almost trying to hold it up. “How are you holding up Char through your… practice contractions?”

Even without her announcing it, Char could tell how close Laura was to birthing her baby, her stance and dropped belly unmistakable as signs of her imminent birth. Laura, she knew, was dependable, and though Char would rarely admit it, she relied on Laura and her stability and her easier personality tended to balance Char’s own stubbornness. Her patience was beginning to wear Char down, and she almost admitted then. The head was huge against her dilated cervix, and she could feel it oriented, ready to descend. Everything was moving painfully downwards. She could no longer even pinch her knees together, so wide was her gait. It felt as if the baby would drop out of her if she spread too wide.

“I-I think I’m, I’m in—“ Char was cut off by another contraction, doubling over with an urgent grunt, so unlike her normally composed and cool attitude. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth, eyes squeezed shut as the contraction began to peak and she clutched blindly at her rigid, taut belly.

“Oh Char…” Laura said, waddling over to her boss, keeping one hand on a bench for support. “I think you’re in labor, hun.”

Char was completely doubled over, clutching her large and heavy belly, and grunting wildly. There was no way she could keep denying her situation now surely. Laura put a hand on Char’s back and rubbed up and down her spine in support. “It’s okay, just breathe through the contraction. Slowly, don’t panic, in and o-outttt…”

Laura was cut off by a contraction of her own, and without her waters it was aggressive and forceful. She immediately spun around, grabbing the nearest bench, and groaned deeply as she fell into a slight squat. The baby was slamming against her cervix, squeezing its way into her birth canal, and Laura had no choice but to push with the force of the contraction.

She tried not to panic, to stay calm, but the head filling her canal was almost making her nauseous. She wanted to tell Char but couldn’t speak, not that her boss could do anything as she was dealing with a contraction of her own right now. The only option left was to ride the wave, and follow her instincts.

Over the din of her own uncontrollable noises Char could hear Laura’s straining groans as she bore down fiercely, primal with the urgency of a birthing mother. Char tried to change her posture but the feeling of the baby descending, pressing down forcefully against her cervix was too much for her to bear standing, and she clasped her hands on her thighs as she squatted, desperate for relief. The contraction peaked, and though she tried to control her breathing, sucking in air at first, by the ends of her breaths she found herself grunting slightly. She gave a gasp, realizing that she was pushing. No! No, no! She thought desperately. You’re a scientist. This is your lab, and you have control. Try as she might, it was impossible to assert control over her laboring body. Her baby was coming, and she was pushing. Still, she tried to resist the urge to push, panting and blowing as the pressure grew and her back flared with pain.

Laura’s contraction seemed to subside a little before Char’s, and Char saw her belly visibly heave as her uterine muscles relaxed. She let out a grunt as the contraction released her. They made eye contact as Char’s contraction began to fade as well. Char shifted her gaze.

“We…. w-we,” she panted, trying to regain her breath. “We have to find this cure. Right now.”

“Char…. Even if we do find a c-cure… what do you t-think is going to happen?” Laura said sternly as she heaved herself back to standing. “These babies,” she patted her bump and also Char’s for effect, “are coming and no cure is going to make them disappear.”

Laura had seen the way Char literally squatted to the ground and pushed, and her clothes were also damp on her bottom half. “I’m saying this as both your friend and colleague, you are in labor just as much as I, and we should prepare for their arrival.”

Laura waddled awkwardly, bowlegged, back to her desk and grabbed a drink of water. Still panting after the latest contraction, she picked up a pen and carried on making notes. “I’ll help you as much as I can, noting everything down about this rapid pregnancy, tracking my symptoms and experience, but we’re going to be giving birth soon. Both of us.”

Char glared weakly as Laura patted her belly. She’d known Laura to be one of her only lab partners to actually stand up to her or challenge her, but even then she was firmly gentle. This was no different except of course so steeped in labor herself Laura had a bit more edge to her, biting just a little. She knew how Laura was feeling. Their babies were so low, pushing heavily into their canals and forcing their bodies to deliver, and she wanted nothing more to stop what she was doing right now, squat down, and let it come. Magic or science, Char and Laura were experiencing their most natural, primal instincts.

But—she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No, this was HER body. An intruding passenger wouldn’t change that, even as it inched its way through her birth canal and demanded she work hard and concentrate on nothing but pushing it out. Char made a laborious effort to straighten somewhat, though her stance wasn’t much narrower than Laura’s own bowlegged waddle.

“Not, urgh, yet,” Char said. “I’m not having this baby. Mmm…. hoo, I’m grateful to you, Laura, for holding it together for this long. But you n-need to deliver. Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll finish this cure on my—hmnh, hm. My own.”

She painstakingly toddled to her research table, lifting the hefty weight of her belly as though it would keep the baby from dropping any further.

“Okay, do whatever you wanna do Char.” Laura resigned herself to losing this argument. Her boss was determined but this was next level, bordering on complete denial. Well if Char was feeling even half the sensations Laura was, she’d succumb to this birth soon enough.

Laura needed to prepare for the imminent birth, her recent pushing was a sure sign the baby was close. Slowly, and whilst always holding on to something, the assistant rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in the lab. “Do we have anything we could use for clamps to cut the cord?” She asked aloud, not really expecting an answer from her disgruntled colleague. “Ah, this could work.”

She collected the equipment she’d need to clamp and cut the chord on her desk, and moved the towel on the floor with her feet again mopping up the new liquid that she’d trailed across the floor, not realizing she was still leaking. “I’m gonna go get some more towels.” Laura again spoke aloud but knew her boss had disappeared into her own world.

Laura barely made it to the doorway when another contraction struck, and damn they were close together. Her fingers gripped the wooden frame as her body sank downwards again, the pressure building and building between her legs. “Mnnnghhhhhhhh!!!” Laura grunted, muscles contracting and squeezing the large head further through the birth canal, to the point she could feel herself start to open slightly. “Nghhhhhhh the head…. I can feel it…” Laura mewled as she squatted.

Char listened to Laura’s preparations in the background, doing her best to tune out both Laura’s words and the feeling of a massive head lodged in her birth canal, stretching her from within. Her legs trembled, nearly buckled even without a contraction. She resented herself for pushing but knew from her last contraction that she wouldn’t be able to help from bearing down again. The urge to push, the pressure, it was blurring her vision, and her head pounded dizzyingly. A mantra repeated in her head: ‘Hold it in. Just hold it in a little longer.’ Her stomach felt like a hard stone weighing on her middle even without a contraction. She tried to focus, pulling herself into a chemical analysis of her own birthing fluids she’d swabbed from the towel.

Suddenly, she heard Laura’s loud grunting and her attention was drawn to the doorway to see her assistant bent and squatted, pushing hard into her trousers. She felt a tug of concern.

“Laura? Hun, you okay—?”

The head, she thought. Oh god, she’s still wearing her work trousers.

Before she could even take a single step towards Laura, she felt another contraction grip her. “Oooof,” she grunted deeply. Her knees began to give out and she was forced into a squat even as she tried to remain standing. Gripping the table for dear life, she groaned and growled. Don’t push, she thought. Don’t—

“Ohhhh.” The head shifted down. Her powerful internal muscles shoved it through. “OH—I’m—I-I’m pushinggggg, mmmmgh!”

Laura was consumed by the sensations thrumming through her entire body, it was as if something primal was happening to her - new and unfamiliar, completely out of her control, and yet her body seemed to know what to do. Her knees widened and she sunk deeper into the squat, opening her hips as much as she could. Leaning into the contraction, using it, Laura pushed the heavy weight down. It felt… productive. She knew it was what she should be doing.

The location wasn’t ideal, and she hoped she still had time to collect more towels and set up a more comfortable birthing area. But whilst the contraction raged, Laura submitted to it, letting it work her baby down, slipping further and further towards its exit.

Somewhere in the distance she heard her name being called. After a long push Laura gulped a breath and turned her head to see Char squatting at her desk and crying out that she was pushing. She would laugh if her body hadn’t forced her into another push.

They needed to get set up and quick, Char looked like she was suffering just as much as Laura was. When the contraction waned just a bit, Laura stopped pushing and somehow managed to haul her body back to standing. Char looked okay, well as she could given the situation, riding out a contraction and holding on to the sturdy frame of her workbench.

“I’m getting more towels, hang on Char!” Laura shouted, hoping her boss would hear over the groans Char was making.

Waddling ever so slowly, the head sitting right behind her lips, Laura went off to the cupboard to find more towels. They’d soon need them.

Another contraction struck mere minutes after the last while Laura was in the cupboard but she was not as successful this time in staying on her feet. The force of the contracting muscles and slashing pain splitting her open brought her to her knees. She clung on to the shelf in front of her, her heavy belly squished between widened thighs, and she pushed hard wailing with the effort. The head was peaking through, pushing apart her folds in her underwear. But her body was driving this journey, Laura was just the passenger. After a solid minute the contraction let up and when she released the push with a gasp, the baby slipped back into the birth canal. With a trembling hand she felt the fabric between her legs, she was definitely bulging, but the head wasn’t crowning just yet. She breathed deeply, gathering her strength before getting back on her feet. She needed to get back with the extra towels, not just so she could birth her baby there but so she could help Char. She’d need a friend and the support right now, and so could Laura.

As Laura submitted, pushing freely and loudly as though nothing else mattered in the world except getting her baby out and getting it out now, Char resisted her baby’s inevitable birth. Panicked, she gulped in a breath, trying to ease up on her furious pushing as she felt the head filling her opening thoroughly. It was beginning to bulge her, though her lips remained shut. The pressure and incredible sensation of the head sitting low at her opening, almost ready to exit, was almost too much to bear. She mooed deeply, from the back of her throat. Her belly tightened even harder than before, squeezing her like a vice and she couldn’t help but push again. The baby strained against her opening, and she could feel her most delicate area distending obscenely.

“Oh god!” She cried, throwing her head back as her thighs spread and she pushed again and again uncontrollably. The urge was undeniable. She was subject to her body and right now, it was telling her to birth her baby. Here, now, into her trousers. She felt helpless. Out of control.

“It’s coming,” she moaned. “Ohhh, it’s coming!” She knew this deeply, intuitively, with an age-old maternal instinct. She was ready to birth her baby. But she felt alone and vulnerable.

“Laura,” she gasped, couldn’t say much more than that. “Laura, oh god, it’s coming and I’m pushing! I need to hold it in! Just a little longer!”

She could hear Char’s wailing from the corridor, becoming fast apparent the lead technician was losing her fight against the inevitable. With one arm carrying a load of towels, the other hand pressed against the wall as she waddled heavily back to the office. On walking into the room she saw her friend and colleague in a deep squat, white-knuckling the work bench, chin to chest and pushing. Loudly.

“Oh Char, it’s okay hun.” Laura shut the door behind her and dropped the towels beside her friend. “You have to breathe as well as push darling.” She said as she staggered to her own workbench and grabbed the medical supplies she’d collected. With the baby playing peek-a-boo into her underwear, Laura knew their time was almost up.

Cumbersomely, Laura got down to her knees beside her boss, putting the clamps and scissors on the pile of towels. “Shhhhh it’s okay Char, don’t fight it. Use that contraction and push with the pain.” Laura rubbed a hand up and down Char’s back, trying her best to support and encourage through this.

Unfortunately with their labors progressing in tandem, Laura’s role as carer was snatched away when the next contraction tore its way across her midsection. Instinctively, without intending to, her body was pushing with the pain and she could feel the baby start to leak through again and stretch apart her lips. She went to all fours and rocked, sinking backwards towards her heels whenever she had to bear down.

“Mnnnnghhhhhhh! Come on baby….” She groaned before gasping another breath and pushing hard again. She didn’t care that she was still in her work clothes, or that she was on the floor of a laboratory that was covered with two lots of amniotic fluid, she was simply following her instincts and soon the baby stopped slipping back in and stayed, keeping her lips in a perfect oval shape.

“Ohhhh god… I think it’s starting to c-crownnnn….” The assistant managed to huff when the contraction eventually dulled.

Char’s belly refused to fully relax at this point, now constantly flexing with forceful surging contractions, but there were brief moments of respite where she could pause in her pushing and some awareness returned to her. Laura, she realized, was beginning to tent her pants with pushing, on all fours with her back arched and her hips shoved forward, trying to make as much room for the large crowning head as possible. She was pushing the head into her clothes, Char realized, bulging them ridiculously, and between her spread thighs more fluids dripped and leaked. At the same time she processed this she realized that her own clothes had never been discarded, but she made no effort to remove them in her precious few moments before her body would force her baby further out of her. Instead she clung onto the naive hope that she’d miraculously stumble upon a cure while crowning into her pants, feeling the head beginning to press up against her underwear and part her lips slightly. Laura, she could tell, had offered less resistance to her body and had made more progress in her pushing, the head sitting permanently, she calculated from the bulge in Laura’s pants, at around a half-crown or more.

“Hey,” she croaked hoarsely, barely able to manage anything but grunts with her clenching belly. “You—you need to get your pants down, hun. Head’s coming out.”

Painstakingly, she began to squat down, moaning as the head was pressed back slightly into her sensitive lips by the tension of her underwear. It felt so low, so full, she needed to open up, she needed to push, relieve the immense pressure, yet her friend, yes friend, not just assistant, needed her. As she squatted low, she hooked her fingers around Laura’s waistline.

“I need, urgh, I need you to get your legs together. Mmmm, we gotta get your pants off, ‘kay?”

She was surprised to see Char moving in her peripheral vision, but Laura could pay no mind, for this baby wanted out and it wanted out now.

“Grhhhhh!!! It’s coming out… mnghh!” Laura cried into the next push, bearing down and feeling the head stretch her wider and wider. Her hips were so full, her pelvis felt like it could snap, the pressure of this baby’s head - this large and heavy mass - *needed* to come out.

Char’s attempt to remove her trousers was fruitless, though the black fabric was stretchy and comfortable with the expanding of her stomach, it was not elasticated enough to be pulled over the wide angle of her legs. The baby sat so low, right at her entrance, stretching her entrance wide with the emerging crown. There was no way in hell she would be able to put her legs closer together.

Instead, she widened them further. “Hmngh! Can’t… baby… coming…I have to pushhhh-mnghhhh!” Laura’s face sunk towards the floor, dropping to her elbows and opening up her hips to the skies. It was coming out, she could feel it sliding slowly out of her into her stretchy clothing. All she could do was push…. Pant and push again.

Char watched in utter fascination as Laura pushed with total abandonment, entirely consumed with the baby coming out of her, every last thought focused on the overwhelming, intense, undeniable urge to push. The bulge in Laura’s pants grew, stretched her thinly and Char could scarcely believe that such a huge head could come from her, pass through such a narrow opening with so much force. She removed her fingers from Laura’s waistline, realizing the impossibility of such a task at this stage in Laura’s labor. She was pushing it out into her pants, and there was nothing Char could do about that except cup the growing bulge as it emerged from Laura’s opening into the straining fabric.

It was terrifying, watching Laura push without regard for anything else. As she felt a powerful contraction wrack her own reddened, exhausted belly, she knew there was no stopping this. She was giving birth and was about to push a baby out into her pants exactly as Laura was doing now. She growled fiercely, deep in her squat—the perfect position. Her knees jackknifed and she opened her hips as wide as they could go. Against her opening the fabric of her underwear arched with the coming head as she bore down immensely. Her face turned bright red with her hardest push yet.

“Oh GODDDD!” She bellowed. “It’s COMING, I’m pushing it OOUUUTTTT!”

Her lips parted, wider and wider, trembling and convulsing around the head as it burned and stretched her. She jerked, trying to escape the ring of fire and yet she couldn’t stop pushing for a minute. She was in the final stages now, and the only way the burn would stop was when she had pushed her baby into the world. Instinct took over completely. This was what her body needed her to do. This was what SHE needed to do.

Even though they were consumed with their own births, Laura found comfort that at least they were together through this. Each laboring woman was not alone.

But the strength required to birth these babies, who didn’t even exist 24 hours ago, would be down to the mother. Gasping for air Laura pushed again with everything she had, through the pressure and pain and the burning ring of fire that had her mouth open in a silent scream. The baby’s head had to be almost out by now, surely!?

Despite being beside each other Char’s bellowing voice seemed so far away to Laura. Nothing else registered beside the baby being born into her pants. She growled with another push and suddenly yelped when the head slipped fully out.

“Oh my god oh my god…” Laura muttered over and over and pushed herself back up on her knees. She scrambled at the waistband of her elasticated trousers and pulled them down to her knees along with her underwear. Her baby, she had to get to her baby, the maternal instinct cried in her head. With a trembling hand she felt the newly born baby’s head that was now wedged between her thighs. “Hi…. baby… oh my gosh you’ve got hair!” Laura was in shock, but also in awe of what her body had just done.

It was only after the head was born that Laura properly heard the cries of her friend. “Char…” she muttered and saw the other woman squatting and huffing, red-faced, chin to chest, with an obscene bulge protruding from her clothes between her wide legs.

“Oh my god Char! Your baby is coming out!”

Had Char any piece of mind she might have answered with her customary sarcasm: oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed. Instead, the only sound that emerged from her mouth was a long lowing wail that only deepened and became more guttural as the head filled her bottom so thoroughly, and it felt as though her pelvis was creaking open to allow the massive head through. She opened slowly, barely pausing to take a breath as she bore down without repose. Dimly, she was aware of Laura’s own baby dangling between her thighs, having pushed the huge head out, and with renewed efforts Char grunted the head further and further out. Her lips tautened and thinned, red with the stretch. The head reached a full crown and for a moment Char pushed and it didn’t move, solid mass wedged tightly in her opening. She gasped, scared for a moment that it was too big, that there was no way she could push something of this size out of her body.

Then she heard Laura cooing to the head between her legs, and something stirred within her. She realized that the dread she’d been facing was being replaced with something like motherhood, her body responding naturally, automatically, to Laura’s awe and wonder. Char realized that she wanted to meet this thing she had carried inside her for a mere twenty-four hours.

“C’mon BABYYYYY!” She shouted, bearing down furiously. Her lips slipped around the head, and then—with a splash of fluids and a grunt of relief, Char freed the head into her pants.

Laura watched in fascination as Char grunted the head further and further into her clothing, it was huge. Char had been fighting this throughout the entire pregnancy and in that moment Laura understood why some women balked so much away from birth. It was hard work. But then she saw a change in her friend, the way her eyebrows furrowed with determination, the slight readjustment of her hips as she took a breath; she was no longer fighting against her body and was readying herself to meet her child.

“You can do it Char, push!” Laura called as Char bore down. She wished she could move to support her friend physically but she was still mid-way through her own rapid birth to risk moving.

Tears begun to well in her eyes at the thought of their babies, the exhaustion of labor and the stress of the last 24 hours hammering her emotions.

By the time Char had birthed the head of her baby into her pants Laura was already feeling the pangs of the next contraction and the baby’s head turned slightly in the palm of her hand. “Oohhhhh… mhhh okay okay… you ready little one?” She panted, pulling in air through her nose, widening her legs apart to steady her balance and preparing herself to push again. Both hands were between her legs when the contraction really got going and all too soon she was pushing once more and felt the shoulders stretch apart her already sore lips.

With trembling fingers, Char reached down between her legs, feeling the hard slick roundness of the head she’d just pushed out between her legs. She gasped. The aftershocks of her contraction clutched at her belly.

“Oh… oh, my—that’s a baby. I just gave birth.”

The evidence was conclusive. But she could scarcely believe that she’d pushed an entire baby through her birth canal and out into her pants. The experience she’d just been through, the effort, the haze of contractions and the hard pushes as she focused on nothing but expelling her baby, and the intense sensations throughout her body. It was all unbelievable. Inching down the waistband of her trousers, Char struggled them to her shins and sank to her knees. She panted in disbelief, feeling instinctually that this was *right,* that this was what she was meant to be doing. Her identity had irreconcilably changed to that of a mother and as she caressed the head between her legs, she felt a rush of contentment. Char was a scientist, an expert in her field, but now it all paled in comparison.

She glanced up at Laura, seeing her shock and awe mirrored in her eyes as she lifted her baby from between her legs and rested it against her chest. Laura smiled exhaustedly at her.

Char began to pant as another contraction took hold.

“Ooh—“ she exclaimed. “You’re ready…. c’mon, you’re ready to be—UGH! BORN!”

Her baby slipped between her lips with a spray of fluids and immediately she sank to the floor, sighing in immense relief.

Laura fell silent with her final pushes, holding her breath as she bore down, the head filling her palm as the shoulders squeezed their way through. She gasped another breath and pushed with everything she had, this was it, she could feel it. Come on baby…

Once the shoulders were freed Laura wasn’t expecting the speed of which the baby slipped out and the hush of fluid that came with it. Catching the slippery newborn Laura gasped, relieved and shocked, and immediately brought the babe to her chest.

“Hey…. Oh my- hey baby.” She cooed, eyes welling with tears as she looked upon this little miracle that had grown in the last 24 hours. When the baby started to cry she instinctively rocked and hushed the infant “it’s okay… you’re okay.” She said, wiping the blood and fluid off the newborn's face.

Laura had barely caught her breath back when Char started pulling down her trousers and panted heavily, a baby’s head hanging between her open legs. A second later Char was mirroring Laura’s actions and pulling her own baby to her chest and sobbing with relief.

“You did it.” Laura said softly to her friend. “We did it. I can’t believe they’re real, we just had babies.”

The Spell might currently be a scientific mystery, but as the two women sat exhausted on the floor cradling their newborns, the research could wait. For now, the scientists were in awe of the new lives they’d just birthed.

Oh my god someone please write an alien post for this

This might be the best movement I've ever seen.

I decided to walk around a bit and, oh godd.. I feel such a strong urge to push 😖

I don't think I've dilated though, a-and my waters still haven't broken... o-oh goddd... hnnnn...

Some director out there needs be bold enough to write a clothing birth / birth denial scene into a movie, with all the anxiety and restraint it entails. There’s maybe one or two scenes out there that exist and they’re maybe 2 seconds long. Who’s gonna get the memo ??!

POV: you’re super pregnant and sitting in a chair and your belly forces your legs open and all I can focus on is how the bottom of your bump is just hanging between your legs and how hot it looks

Hex My Ex! (13)

I Fucked up with the skin color qwq

The airplane shakes as we descend onto the air strip. One of your hands is gripping the armrest and the other digging into my hands in a death grip. Your head was leant back into the chair, your chest rising and falling every second and your stomach constantly looked hard as a rock.

The plane bounces and rumbles when rubber meets road. The plane shakes as it rolls over the strip and slows to a stop. The rough landing making you yelp and hiss.

The plane ride is over. Now we just need to get off of it.

I wait for the other passengers to gather their things before I move to get a hold of a steward.

"Can I please get a wheelchair, my wife is feeling nauseous; I don't want her walking," I ask the stewards as the plane clears out of the rest of the guests.

They leave me to take care of you. I lift you up, but you resist and maintain your grip on the armrest.

"No more moving- it hurts. Burning, so much burning," you struggled to keep a whisper.

I pick you up anyway. Your legs quiver, your face twists as the full weight of our baby sits on your fully stretched opening. The seam of your jeans is soaked through and bowed out into the shape of the head. It's not moving through your jeans, but your composure won't last. Your breathe sharply as I sit you in the chair.

"Oooh, God, I need them out," you whimper.

"Soon, babe, soon."

I drape our carry-on bags on my shoulders and push you through the aisle and the terminal. The hospital isn't far from the airport, maybe an extra thirty or forty minutes is doable as long as we keep your shorts on.

The end of the gate reaches my view and I smile earnestly for the first time in hours.

"We're off the plane babe! Now we just-"

As soon as we exit the terminal, your voice rises to a scream you'd been holding back for hours.

"Get these pants off of me! I need to push!"

Part I Part II Part III

The wait for the entire plane to disembark was nothing short of torturous, hundreds of people packing their stuff and filing slowly out of one door. The guy in our row gave us a stern and annoyed glare as he strutted down the aisle.

I was grateful you’d gotten a wheelchair - there was no way in hell I’d have been able to walk anywhere with a baby stuck crowning between my legs. But as I sat in the well-worn leather of the wheelchair as you pushed me off the plane and out the gate, I felt just as trapped as I’d done in the aeroplane seat. My legs were as wide as I could get them in the wheelchair, my feet trembling on the foot rests, my arms gripping the handles either side. My body tried to push again and again and felt the resistance of my clothing, keeping any progress from being made. While the plane was landing that was a good thing but now, back on solid ground, I couldn’t take it any more.

As the last to leave the plane the long corridors were empty as you wheeled me towards arrivals. The baby was stretching me, the burning ring of fire consuming every part of my being, and alone in the corridor I released the hours of agony in the form of a guttural wail.

“Stop!!! Get-me-out-get-me-out!!!” I cried as my feet tried to find the floor.

The second you halted the wheels I shifted towards the end of the seat and almost threw myself out the chair and onto all fours in the middle of the corridor. I groaned and mooed, deep and primal, and then growled “Shorts-off-now!!!!! Need-to-pushhhh mnghhhhh can’t-hold-it-baby-coming!”

I tried to claw at my denim shorts but I needed both hands on the floor to balance. I heard you swear under your breath before kneeling beside me and trying to pull the maternity shorts across my large bump and over my hips.

“Lean on me babe, I need you more upright if I’m gonna pull these down.” You instructed.

I pushed myself up on to my knees and gripped each of your shoulders in a vice-like squeeze. I couldn’t speak, barely able to breathe, the only thought was the primal instinct to birth this baby. Right here. Right now.

I wailed again in your ear as the shorts slipped past my thighs and I immediately started pushing. Clinging on to you for dear life, I roared and grunted the baby’s bulging head further and further out. Your hands between my trembling thighs ready to catch our baby.

I thought of the unthinkable in that moment. What I was about to do would cause you more pain on top of the labor and ring of fire that would take you soon.

This wasn't the romantic or intimate birth either of us had imagined, but it was the one we were having. We're an hour away from making the descent and this is my last resort. The small pushes you were giving slowly increased in strength as your body took the reigns of the birth of our baby. The counter pressure I provided was the only thing slowing it down. Your entire body heaves between the short reprieves, the quickly tightens and shakes with resistance

"Your doing so well, babe. You're being so strong," I kiss you on the cheek and hold your hand tight.

You barely respond in anything more than a muted moan as you lose another struggle to your body demanding strong pushes. The head is filling your canal to the point I can feel your crotch bulge against my hand.

"Need...out..." You say through barely parted lips. Your sweat soaked shirt twists with your belly. "It stings, oh babe it burns. I-I-"

Your voice slips into a silent weep.

I grit my teeth and look away from your struggling body. I cup my hand around the small sliver of the crown. This baby wasn't going to be born on this plane if I could help it.

Each contraction unravels you further, yet I keep my hand steady to hold our baby in. I can't let your whimpering undo me now when we've come so far.

I continue to hold it there as the plane begins to come to life with activity and your begging becomes more audible. The descent is about to begin.

[Part I] [Part II]

I could barely breathe, barely think. Everything was on fire… stretching, burning, squeezing. I wanted to throw up; I wanted fresh air; I wanted to push, but I wanted to keep this baby in until we landed… My wants didn’t matter though, this baby, our baby, was working on their own schedule.

The lights in the aircraft came on and crew began their routine checks throughout the cabin, getting the plane ready to land.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart. Just half an hour to go until we land.” You whisper softly in my ear.

“I c-can’t do it…” I sob, my sweaty hair falling across my face. “H-hurts… so b-bad… mnnnghh… is the baby nearly o-out?”

I don’t notice the hesitation in your voice when you assure me the baby is not nearly out and that we have plenty of time. It certainly didn’t feel like it…. My eyes were watering with the pain, I’d been pushing so hard, I don’t know how the baby wasn’t crowning by now. I would have moved my hands to feel but they were gripped so tight on each arm rest I daren’t let go, it was the only thing keeping me semi-grounded and held off my screaming.

“We need to put your seatbelt back on honey.” You said fearfully. “And put your chair back upright.”

“You can’t be- hoooo- serious! I’m trying not to have a baby here and you wanna mnnnghh move me?!” I grit through my teeth.

“Yes, we’re so close, nearly home. Just a little bit longer I promise.” You say gently. “Are you having a contraction or can I move my hand? You can’t push when my hand isn’t there okay?”

“Ooooh okay, yeah go - do it.” I panted.

Moving the chair was easy enough but the time it took to get the seatbelt over my heavy swell another contraction was already happening.

“Mnnnnnnghhh gotta-pushhhhh!” I grunted, my body contorting as it pushed the baby further out and I felt it reach a full crown.

“No babe don’t!” You tried to say but my chin was already on my chest, hair falling over my face, as I pushed again with all my strength.

“Is everything alright?” Came the voice of an air steward from the aisle.

With my head dipped it wasn’t obvious I was a woman deep in labour and actively pushing, so it was easy for you to assure the crew member everything was fine and that I was just a little tired and unwell.

Despite my pushing the baby stayed at full crown, stuck by the tight denim of my shorts. I pushed and grunted again, gasping for breath and begging you to help me.

You can't be pushing now. I lean forward and maneuver my hand so I can get my fingers into your pussy. You squirm as my fingers go through your swollen, then a small whimper when my two fingers reach my cervix. You're 10 centimeters. I hide my fear as best I can. If you pushed, this baby was going to shoot through you fast. My mind races, searching for any solution that the OB handbooks and websites listed. Most of them involved drugs that we obviously didn't have. Dehydration and sitting so baby was being pulled down probably weren't helping you, but it wouldn't matter if you thought you could and should push. Make up my mind right there. You don't want our baby on a plane and I'd make it so you didn't as best as I could.

"Resist pushing."

"I don't think I can anym-"

"Don't push you're only 7 centimeters dilated. You can make it, ok," I snap and grasp your hand. "Trust me."

You look at me for a moment then nod. Your eyes were watery, red. It hurts to lie to you like this.

"My love, if you can, I need you to shift on your side. It should slow contractions, for a bit maybe."

We just have to hope the stewards don't notice. You shift slightly, you can't fit your bump between the arm rests but I hope the shift in position is enough. I give you my water and dab the sweat from your brow.

~~~

The changed position didn't last long. The stewards reprimanded us for being in unsafe positioning and had you back in your seat proper after two hours. I have no idea if it helped but last time I checked you the head had only moved a bit in your canal. Your breathing was low, deep, and hastening as you resisted the urge to push. Your face squenches hard, but you maintain the facade of the uncomfortable pregnant lady to the stewards when they pass.

I keep lying about how slow your dialation is with the hope it would help with your resistance. We're so close now. So close...

[Part I]

It was our first baby, my first pregnancy, I didn’t know what to expect… but oh god the pressure. I didn’t expect so much pressure. I did my best to breath through the contractions, which felt constant at this stage, barely any time between them.

I was panting through my nose and groaning behind my closed mouth. My legs were wide apart in the narrow chair, my bump sat heavily between my thighs and brushed against the damp cushion. As I held my contracting dome with both hands, I ignored the overwhelming desire to push. You said I was only 7.5cms dilated, you told me I wasn’t ready to push, and I put all my faith and trust in you, unable to think of anything besides my breathing. And holding off from pushing.

Even though I was not dilated enough, the baby felt like it was one push away from coming out. It felt like the head was right there, bulging my lips, but it couldn’t be. I wasn’t dilated enough for that. Breathe. Don’t push. Breath. Don’t push.

My head lolled onto your shoulder, my body exhausted and trembling. You wrapped your arms over my bump before one hand disappeared beneath my shorts.

“Ohhhhh babe I really need to p-pushhhh….” I whimpered as you examined me again.

“Not yet, you’re not dilated enough.” You assured and kissed the side of my sweaty face.

“A-are you s-sure?” I panted quietly. “It feels like it’s coming outttttt…..mnghhhhh!” Suddenly I’m pushing.

“No! Stop pushing!” You cried and put your hand between my legs again.

“I can’t help it- oh fuck nghhhhhh!”

“Ok if you need to push, just small pushes. Quietly.” You say and I can feel the counter pressure you're making at my opening. But I don’t question it, consumed by the green light you gave me to push.

My chin is on my chest, my arms are grabbing the arm rests, and I bear down silently spreading my legs wider.

“Oh it’s coming out…” I gasp.

“No it’s not.” You say confidently, before adding under your breath “I won’t let it.”

Me and the guy in the aisle seat shift out of our places as you waddle down the cramped airplane walkway. Your T-shirt and shorts leave little to be imagined in your near-due state but it was much better than being hot.

It was our final vacation before baby hopefully comes next week. It was a great time on the beach but the plane ride is leaving a sour note.

Unfortunately, we couldn't get the asshole in the aisle seat to swap seats, a pair in front of us are constantly leaning back in their chairs, yhe air conditioning doesn't look to be functioning and it seems like every other minute we hit a bout of turbulence.

You slowly sit down in your window seat after making the man stifle an irritated groan. I lean back to go to sleep but I feel you grasp my thigh and lean up to my ear.

"Don't..." You breathe suddenly. "Don't freak out...I think my water broke in the bathroom."

It's hard not to not jump out of my seat. I look straight down at your bump sitting between your thighs. A vague shade of brown covered your inner thighs.

"We should tell some-"

"No! I can hold for the rest of the flight," you look down at your tensed bump. "I'll-I'll tell you if it becomes to much..."

"I can last...I think I can last," you whisper through tight lips, seemingly to yourself.

I can't argue with you, it's your body and you know best. I try to relax back in my seat but out of the corner of my eye I see a fresh trail of fluid trail out of your shorts and down your thigh. Anxiety management isn't one of my strong suits.

Just seven hours till we land.

(P.s. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying these)

I can make it. I can make it. I said to myself over and over. A mantra. A promise. A desperate and hopeful plea.

Earlier that day I hadn’t given any thought to the odd cramps that had tightened across my belly as we packed up our suitcase, or to the spasms shooting up my spine as we waited in line for security scans before entering departures. I’d thought the building pressure between my hips was just because of the change in altitude or the baby pressing on my bladder. Yes people warned us about going away so close to the due date, but neither of us really expected the baby to arrive early, and especially not on the plane. No, this baby was not going to be born on a plane! I was grateful my waters had broken in the bathroom at least, it gave me an opportunity to clean myself up before returning to my seat. Not that it made any difference, the constant leaking between my legs was already dampening the cushion.

Without my waters the contractions struck with more vigour and bite. After yet another wave of twisting pain rippling my belly, I pressed the button on the tv screen embedded in the seat in front bringing up the map of our journey and the estimated time of arrival - 5hrs 57mins. I exhaled heavily, so far so good. Every time a contraction struck I would simply breathe my way through it, my hand softly rubbing at the tightness squeezing my belly. I could feel your eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. I knew you liked to sleep on planes but there was no way that was happening now. Trying to stay calm and still I breathed slowly, deeply, steadily. I can make it.

~•~

I don’t know when you started holding my hand through each wave of pain but I clung onto it like a lifeline. My body temperature was rising and I was shifting awkwardly in my seat; the broken air conditioning and the cramped aeroplane seats were making me feel trapped.

“Babe… do we need to maybe tell the air stewards-”

“No!….. hooooo…. It’s fine it’s just-hooooo…. they’re getting a little bit stronger n-now that’s all. But I’m fine. Really…” I breathed heavily, trying to reassure us both right now.

“But they’re getting closer together.” You worried.

“I know that.” I snapped at you under my breath, but when the contraction released me my anger disappeared and I saw the look on your face. “I’m sorry darling. I know you’re only looking out for us. But I’m fine, we’re going to make it. Four and a half hours to go. Babies aren’t born that quickly. We’ll be fine.”

I could tell by your expression that you did not feel as confident, and to be honest, neither did I. But there was no use in both of us panicking. And what could they even do? We were above water for the majority of our flight, there was nowhere for the plane to land anyway. The next contraction struck and I hissed through my teeth. I twisted in my seat so I faced the window, one leg folded beneath my large and contracting belly, the other firmly on the floor. “C-can you rub my back p-please?” I grit over one shoulder towards you and place my palms against the cream plastic of the aeroplane interior.

Although the pressure of your hands on my back and hips felt wonderful, it barely touched the side of the roaring pain splitting my pelvis in two. I curled over my bump as much as I could in the tight space and breathed through it as much as I could. But the pressure, the pressure was killing me. My hips were open in this position, a move driven purely by instinct, and I could feel the baby’s head deep and low and pressing even further down. I clamped my mouth shut tight as my body rocked forward and backward slightly, your hands rubbing up and down my lower back and pressing into the back of my hips under the waistband of my shorts. I took a long, deep exhale as the pain peaked and when I released it I found my body bearing down at the end of the breath. My heart froze at the possibility this baby wasn’t going to wait til we landed. I breathed again, slowly, purposely, and tried to ignore any call from my body to push… but when I got to the end of the breath every muscle in my womb was squeezing forcefully downwards and I could feel the baby sink lower and lower.

“Oh babe…” I whispered. “I think I’m pushing?!”

“What?! No, you can’t be pushing. We still have 3 more hours to go!”

Dearest Anon, these are perfect! Thank you so much! All the different scenarios you’ve given me are just…. 👌 this one might be my fav, if you wanna continue it in the next ask… 👀

This is one of my all time favorite stories -- it always, always hits. ❤️

imagine being a pregnant model for a life drawing class. the end of the semester approaches and your due date arrives. there are two weeks of class left. you don't even realize you've been in labor until your water breaks in the middle of a pose. the class takes action immediately. they don't have much time left and these last few sessions count towards their final grade, they can't have you giving birth now. so they stuff your cunt with a dry rag to block your birth canal and tied the cloth you draped over yourself during these sessions for modesty between your legs and wedged into the lips of your drooling pussy to prevent your baby from slipping out and being born.

Michael's Medical Mishap

Hi, long time lurker and first time submitter here! Please tag me as #crystal

A young man finds himself unwillingly involved in an experimental procedure that gives him the ability to have children.

Mpreg, rape, forced pregnancy ahead. Please proceed with caution

Michael woke to a bright light against his closed eyelids. He attempted to lift his arm up to shield his face as his head throbbed in time with his heart, but found that both arms had been strapped down. His eyes flung open, then he immediately had to close them against the cold clinical lights shining down into his eyes. A well of anxiety gripped him, and he could feel himself begin to hyperventilate. Where was he?

Bracing himself for the brightness, he squinted as he opened his eyes, trying to figure out exactly what he was doing strapped down to a table. Unfamiliar medical instruments sat on a small metal table beside him. He swallowed thickly, relieved to at least be covered by a medical gown. 

What had happened for him to end up here? 

The last thing he recalled was getting home from his uni lectures, fishing around in his pocket for his house keys. Had he passed out and been brought to the hospital? If so, why had he been restrained? Had he been seizing?

He blinked blearily at the door as he heard it click open, followed by the entrance of a doctor. Something in the man’s placid smile soothed something in Michael’s hammering heart. He didn’t look like someone about to give bad news.

“Michael. You’re awake. Good to see.” The blond man observed, a gentle smile on his face. 

Michael nodded, pressing his lips together as the doctor stepped beside him and took his vitals.

“Uh, Dr…” Michael looked for a name badge and found none. “Uh, sir. Sorry, uh, what am I doing here? What happened?”

The doctor made a small noise of acknowledgement as he typed something into the tablet in his hands, but didn’t answer.

“I’m going to move onto an abdominal examination Michael, I’m going to have to lift up your gown.” He didn’t make it sound like a question, and Michael found himself frowning again. 

“W-what? Why am I here?” He tried again, but the doctor just snapped on some gloves and swiftly pulled up Michael’s gown to expose his bare genitals. Michael squeaked in surprise and pulled against the restraints, trying to move away from the unfamiliar man. “Stop! What are you doing!”

The doctor’s gentle smile turned disapproving, and he put a cold hand on Michael’s flushed skin. “Don’t make me tighten your restraints, this doesn’t need to be hard. Just let me check that everything has progressed well, then I’ll explain.”

Michael stilled, his eyes wide. “Progressed? What? What do you mean?”

The doctor ignored him, palpating his abdomen firmly. It wasn’t an exactly comfortable experience, being poked and prodded. Michael closed his eyes firmly and tried to pretend that he wasn’t exposed to the doctor. His lack of attention meant that when the doctor’s hands moved to his flaccid cock, he yelped.

“What are you doing!!” He demanded again, this time trying to kick out his legs. He didn’t succeed in anything but getting rough friction against his penis as the doctor gripped him firmly. Michael’s face flushed and he tugged until his forearms protested the action.

The doctor didn’t seem pleased, drawing back and typing something else into his tablet. “You’re making things more difficult for yourself, I hope you know that. I was going to get you to turn over yourself, but I don’t think you can be trusted.” The doctor pressed a call button that rang out in the room. Moments later, two burly orderlies stepped through the door. Michael tried to catch a glimpse of the hallway but they moved efficiently through the doorway. 

Between the three men, they were easily able to overpower Michael to get him laying on his front. Once a hand was free, he tried to pull it away to hide his half-hard erection but they just wouldn’t let go! His mouth felt full of cotton, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his head. “Please! Let me go! What are you doing!” He pleaded with them as they manhandled him. The orderlies were unaffected as they strapped him down into position. 

Michael couldn’t see what the doctor was doing now, which unsettled him. What was going on? Why wouldn’t anyone explain what was going on?  

He heard the unmistakable sound of a cap and lube being squeezed out onto gloves. 

“I will be examining your rectum for any irregularities. You need to relax for this process, will you need sedation?” 

Michael shook his head, whether to deny the need for sedation or to avoid the rectal exam, he wasn’t sure. He’d never had a prostate exam before but he was sure that this wasn’t routine for a hospital visit, nor the excessive force to get him into position. 

He felt the slippery fingers rub lubrication around the rim of his asshole, before two pressed inside. Michael let out a little noise of protest and hung his head in shame. Inside, the doctor’s fingers scissored, an uncomfortable but not painful feeling. He tried to shuffle forward to avoid the uncomfortable feeling, but the doctor just pressed in further and brushed against something that sent shivers all through Michael’s groin. He tried to bury his unwilling moans as the doctor added another finger, rubbing across his prostate again. 

Michael couldn’t will away his erection, he could feel it leak onto the sheets below him and he tried not to let the absolute humiliation get to him. No words of reassurance were offered to him, and the fingers moved further forward to something even more sensitive. Michael gasped as the doctor seemed to push into the space, palpating. Michael had never felt something there before, in his own explorations of his body, those nights masturbating with his fingers in himself. He couldn’t find it in himself to ask what it was, not even sure if he’d get an answer.

The fingers were removed abruptly, and Michael couldn’t help feeling bereft, his anus winking closed. He grimaced and tried to hide his face. 

“The implant was successful.” The doctor intoned.

What implant? What the fuck was this man on about?

“You’ve been selected for our experimental breeding program Michael, your body has adapted to the uterus implant beautifully.”

“What??” Michael croaked out, trying to turn to look at the doctor. This had to be some kind of sick joke, right? This man had to be insane.

“Now that I’ve confirmed the viability of your new reproductive organs, let’s test their efficacy, shall we?” There was a hint of amusement in the doctor’s voice.

Within moments, something fleshy and hot pressed against Michael’s empty hole. He let out a shriek as the doctor hoisted his hips up, arching his back for a good angle to press into Michael. He tried to pull away, thrashing and kicking but only succeeded in pulling the doctor’s hot cock further into him.

The quick preparation from the rectal exam hadn’t been enough, and big fat tears rolled down Michael’s cheeks as his hole was stretched beyond anything that he’d had before. “Please stop! Stop!” His cries fell on deaf ears as the doctor grunted above him.

“Hush boy, you’ll be just fine.” The doctor had finally sheathed himself inside fully, pressing against that weird tingly place deep inside. With a snap of his hips, the doctor was thrusting in again and again. Michael couldn’t help the little “uh uh uh”s that left his lips as he was fucked. All fight seemed to drain from his body. It sounded obscene, the slap of the doctor’s balls against his wet sloppy entrance. Michael’s cock dripped more precum below him, his prostate being grazed with almost every slam of the doctor’s cock. 

This was all kinds of wrong, but he’d never felt so good. So right. Heat pooled in his groin as the doctor’s thrusts became almost animalistic, before heat liquid splashed deep inside his hole. Michael let out a breathy moan as his own cock jerked and spilt his own seed all over the bed below. The doctor stilled inside, arm still firmly around Michael’s hips. 

“Good boy, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” The doctor sounded breathless but pleased. Michael shuddered as he pulled out his cock from Michael’s hole, his speed spilling out and down his crack. Michael stifled a sob, hiding his face again as the doctor removed the restraints, removed his ruined gown and turned him on his side. He just felt so defeated, the fight drained out of him with the soreness of his hole and the bruising on his ankles and wrists.

What was the doctor going to do when Michael didn’t miraculously become pregnant? Would he keep trying? Would he let Michael go?

Michael squinted up at the doctor, a miserable frown pulling at his lips as his gut churned. A wave of nausea hit him all at once and he couldn’t clamp his lips closed fast enough to stop himself from vomiting. The doctor seemed to have expected this, holding a plastic vomit bag in front of his face quickly. 

Michael’s head swam, and he vomited once more before fully collapsing back on the bed. Was it the adrenaline crash? The doctor didn’t seem very concerned at all, tapping a few notes on the tablet before smiling at Michael. It made another wave of nausea roll over the young man. 

“Right on track. We’re trialling an accelerated pregnancy paired with the implanted womb so we can get our results quickly.” Michael shook his head at the delusional man, tears welling up again but he didn’t protest. “You look like you’ve changed your attitude, good. The less you fight, the easier this will be.”

The doctor’s hands were back on his abdomen, just resting on the small swell- wait. The small swell?

Michael blinked down at his normally flat abdomen, bloated and still swelling. “Wh-what?” 

The doctor’s eyes didn’t leave his abdomen, “You’re pregnant Michael, with your rate of growth- possibly with twins.” 

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but his mouth clapped shut as an awful stretching feeling spread across his tummy. The small amount of bloating seemed to rapidly increase, a heavy feeling settling inside his abdomen, growing heavier and heavier. Soon, it became harder to take breaths, his lungs compressed with the sheer size and weight of whatever was inside of him.

Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes again, and he began to beg for the doctor to stop whatever was happening to him. 

He just kept swelling, look like he’d swallowed a softball, then a basketball. His belly button was stretched out, threatening to pop out as if he were actually pregnant. The doctor lathered moisturiser onto the bottom of his distended belly before running his hands on the underside. Michael threw his head back as his cock stirred at the attention. 

“Stop it! Stop it! Please!” He begged breathily. He could barely believe the sensations happening in his own body. A fluttering feeling trembled inside his firm abdomen and he cried out at the sensation. Soon enough, these feelings developed into kicks across the surface of his swollen abdomen. 

He had no choice but to accept that he was pregnant. 

“What did you do to me? Get it out! Get it out!” He sobbed as another leg kicked out against his spine. It shot pain all down his back and he writhed at the sensation. The doctor pulled away, pulling out a measuring tape to wrap around his bulging abdomen. Michael couldn’t even see his feet any more, his abdomen looking like he was at least 8 months along.

With a sudden pop, and a small relief of pressure, his belly button sprung out to sit on top of his swollen belly. The doctor made a pleased sound, pressing his fingers into the sensitive skin and causing Michael to moan erotically at the feeling. The doctor’s other hand wrapped around Michael’s cock, jerking it with deft movement. Michael squirmed, causing his swelling belly to move with him. The heavy feeling in his stomach only increase, the baby inside of him upset at the sudden movement.

“Stop! Stop!” He insisted, whimpering at the feeling of that hand around his painfully sensitive cock with the kicking against his ribcage.

“How many have you got in there, you greedy boy? You really loved my seed so much in you that you had to try and grow as much of me in you as you could, did you?” The doctor’s low tone sounded pleased.

Dread wrapped around Michael’s heart. Did that mean…was the doctor implying more than one baby…

That seemed to be an irrefutable fact as Michael’s stomach stretched out further than an overdue belly, to an active overdue twin belly and further. Stretchmarks pulled across his fragile skin, purpled and angrily red. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his belly swelled faster and faster, larger and larger. He wished his hands weren’t restrained so he could relieve some of the pressure on his spine and lungs. Anything but laying on his back while his pregnant form crushed him. The doctor’s sweet tugging of his cock didn’t even distract him from his plight.

“Ple-...please let me… sit up.” He panted.

“No. I like you like this.” The doctor said simply, a cruel smile on his lips as he left Michael’s red cock and pressed his fingertips into Michael’s belly button again and again and again, mimicking the way he’d fucked the boy into becoming pregnant. 

Michael swallowed thickly, trying his best to adjust his position but doing nothing but upset the litter inside of him. His head felt fuzzy, tears run dry for all that he wanted to weep.

He must have been reaching the size of quintuplets by the time his growth settled down, leaving a few precarious moments of pure relief that he wasn’t still growing.

Then his belly dropped.

Michael took a deep breath for the first time since he was impregnated, those agonising minutes ago. Then he wailed loudly as his implanted uterus contracted harshly around his heavy burden. A hard bowling ball felt like it was wedged between his hips, which obviously hadn’t kept up with the rapid growth in his new womb.

“No! Stop it! No!! Get them out!! Help me! Help!” He cried.

“There’s only one way those babes are coming out Michael, and I think you know how.” The doctor rubbed his hands along the huge mountain of womb. 

“Nooo, no no please, I’ll do anything! Please stop it, please.” Michael’s begging didn’t seem to change the doctor’s mind at all, if anything, it seemed to arouse the man as he caressed his stomach and refrained from replying.

Michael breathed harshly through his nose as another vice-like contraction rolled through his abdomen. The babies seemed to protest their treatment inside their home, rolling and kicking to get comfortable. He tried not to let the pained noises escape him, seeing how much the doctor enjoyed hearing them. He could barely wrap his head around the doctor’s forced entrance, let alone the children he’d implanted in him along with a new womb. It was insanity, but it was happening to him. Part of him wished that he could wake up from this nightmare but the clarity of the pain was too real for it to be a dream.

The doctor pulled his hands away, grabbing at one of Michael’s restrained legs and pulling it far open. His legs burned with the stretch, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away.

“Nooo. No no no no no” Michael pleaded.

The doctor continued to tie Michael’s leg far apart from the other, then moved on to the other until Michael’s legs were as spread apart as they could be with a belly as large as his. He placed two fingers back into Michael’s opening, causing the young man cry out. 

“Stop it! What are you doing! Leave me alone!”

“I need to see if your cervix is softening, you can’t move into stage two of labour until your birth canal is ready.” The doctor informed him.

“I don’t have a cervix! I’m a man! I can’t give birth!” Michael wailed hysterically.

The doctor made a tsking sound, then resumed his exploration into the puffy rectum. It was much more loose than it had been even after he’d impregnated the boy, and when he reached up to feel the nub of his cervix, he could feel that it had indeed begun to soften.

Meanwhile, Michael was desperately trying to mask how aroused he was by the doctor’s touch of his new entrance. It was impossible to escape those fingers pressing against it, firm and sure. He took a few shuttering breaths, then began to weep as another contraction encased his large frame. 

The doctor pulled his hand out, satisfied with the boy’s progress and looseness. “You’re doing very well.” He praised.

The next few minutes felt like pure torture, the moments between his rapidly increasing contractions and feeling what had to be his baby’s head slam against his cervix over and over again. He prayed for this moment to end, for it all to end.

Then he let out a primal grunt, and something burst inside him. His waters flowed from his cervix and down into the mess on the bed, joining his cum and making the bed even more uncomfortable. 

“Wh-what just happen-OH” He cut himself off as a stronger contraction than any before gripped him. He could barely think against the pain and pressure of it all. He could feel the head begin to descend into his softened cervix.

“Push with each contraction now, don’t fight it.” The doctor reminded the flushed pregnant man.

As another contraction took hold of Michael, his whole abdomen seemed to squeeze in, desperately trying to expel his babe into the world. The doctor watched as Michael began to strain, his anus bulging a little but no head visible.

“Go on Michael, you can do more than that. You’ve more than just one to push out, so you better make it quick.” 

Michael wailed at that, the idea of having to do this more than once.

He panted out as he waited for another crest of contraction to squeeze him and he bore down. The bowling ball weight crushed past his muscles, engaging his pelvis in the most painful way. Michael wanted to shift his weight, anything to escape the pressure. Flutters and sharp kicks were thrown against his fragile skin and he shuddered. 

“Please, I can’t do this- please.” He begged, sweat beading down his forehead. His chest heaved with every pathetic breath he could take.

The doctor just ignored his pleas, running a hand over Michael's new bulging form.

Guys ... i..it wasnt a dream....

IT WASN'T A DREAM ×_×

Kind of random but I am a huge fan of alien impregnation and I have really been thinking about making the pregnancy role play alien related.

For example, maybe the pregnancy is the result of a random hookup at a club. It should be impossible due to me being on birth control but I end up pregnant. I eventually decide to go through with the pregnancy but as it progresses, I start to feel that this pregnancy is not as normal as I once thought.