mypreggokink
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Woman (37 years, sigh) with a lot of kinks. Nsfw. Get out if you are a minor.
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Omega slaves births were hardly a ceremonious affair. It was common, just like how fucking and breeding them were.
Which is why it hardly affected the advisor as he threw open the prince’s door to see the prince’s slave flat on his back, legs being held up by two burly guards, face red as he grunted and pushed. The prince who was sat a few feet from his slave, staring sadistically at his slave’s birthing body.
The advisor merely huffed and cleared his throat causing the prince to look up, rolling his eyes at the interruption before training his eyes back to the labouring slave boy.
“Speak Sebastian and get this over with, I wouldn’t want to miss the view”
His tone changed as he crooned at his slave.
“Hold it in for me, my pretty little slut”
The slave merely groaned and whimpered, his small trembling legs shaking whilst restrained in the large hands encompassing it.
“Y-yes sir. I’ll be good…Fuck!”
His prince merely chuckled and grinned
“There’s a good boy…”
Before walking out he gave a hard slap on the slave’s crowning hole causing the poor boy to jerk and whimper.
Sebastian would have felt sorry for him if he wasn't so used to it. His prince was known for being brutal to his slaves. If he could recall he had this one bred and fucked ruthlessly by more than 10,000 men in a span of two nights.
And as the prince followed him out the room, the last thing he saw was his prince’s slave grasping at the bedsheets, his face turning red, the two guards chuckling at his pain as they spread his legs even wider Sebastian thought possible.
“AHHH PLEASE I’M GOING TO TEAR, MASTER!!”
Sebastian knew it was only a start for the poor boy…
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sitting on the couch, a heavily pregnant sub on my lap, sobbing into my shoulder, screaming as the first 12lbs baby is forcing its way through their birth canal. their big bump pressing against my stomach, letting me feel how hard and tight it is and how much it shrinks during each agonizing contraction. they want to push so bad but i won't let them, not yet.
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idea/fantasy: i’m your overdue trans guy roommate. i share everything with you not knowing about your kink. i’ve started complaining about how sick I am of being pregnant, eventually you give into temptation and offer your help. you use teas and herbs and massages to jumpstart my labor. i comply happily, appreciating the help, and am even excited when i feel the first light contractions, i even have you time them to figure out when i should head to the hospital. i have no idea what i’m in for. 12 hours later im still in our apartment, totally at your mercy. i realized far too late why you’d been so eager to assist, and now i’m stuck on the bathroom floor trying to bring a 12lb baby to crown. i’m shouting and crying hysterically as each push wrenches me open, and there’s still a massive bulge sitting just inside. i’ve long given up on begging, the only help you’ll give is to hold my thighs wide apart so you can enjoy the show.
fuckkk anon, that sounds like the dream. getting the chance to see your huge belly everyday would already be great - i'd always be watching you, seeing how your struggle grows everyday, how you're constantly rubbing circles into your aching back and strained bump, hurting all over even before the contractions first started.
i have to bite my tongue when you say you're sick of being pregnant. i would love to see you like this a little longer, just to see how much more weight you'd be able to carry on your slim hips. but i also can't deny i'm excited for your labor. the desire to see you scream out your baby is far stronger than the wish to see you pregnant. so i help you kickstart your labor, and fuck the sight of you doubling over, moaning and panting in pain, every time a contraction hits, is just exquisite.
you're too busy riding out the waves of pain to notice my grin as i time your contractions and announce how short the pauses become, getting closer and closer to the real deal. i reach over to touch your massive belly every now and then, you lean into my hand not yet realising that it's not the touch of a friend trying to be supportive but more akin to a predator toying with its prey. i can't get enough of feeling your bump contracting harshly, and hearing you moan and grunt.
i keep up the act for so long, i start to internally laugh at your naive nature. only when you say it's time to go to the hospital and i flatly deny it, do you become suspicious. suspicion turns to nervousness when you insist and i still don't comply, and then slowly morphs into panic, the clearer it becomes i'm serious and not just playing a mean joke. you become frantic, your words become pleading. i find i enjoy it massively. you've sunken to your knees, the contractions too strong to stay standing, and you're clutching your distended, rippling belly, tears forming in your eyes. you're begging, you're begging for quite some time. you cry, panicked, when i force my fingers inside you to check your dilation - you're dilating fast.
it takes hours until you give up and surrender to your fate of being my own personal entertainment. by now you're too deep into labor to try and argue anymore anyway. your panting and moaning has turned to screaming and sobbing. transition was definitely one of my favorite things to witness - the most painful part of labor. the way you shrieked and thrashed, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. it lasted almost two hours, and i was thrilled the entire time, couldn't take my eyes off you for a single moment. i was kind of disappointed when it was over and you calmed down a little to take a breather. i decided you needed a proper birthing place - if you kept doing it here, our fine carpet might get dirty with your fluids. i dragged you to your feet, forcing you to walk to the bathroom despite the unbearable pressure in your pelvis. gravity brought the baby down faster.
and now we're here, on the bathroom floor. we have been for several hours now. the head is truly enormous, that bulge is probably the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. your skin stretched taut, an angry bruised red, and your lips fluttering around the top of the baby's head, trying to open up enough to let it pass. you've been trying for so long and still can barely get it crowning. i'm surprised you even got it all the way to your lips through your narrow hips if i'm honest.
your shouting and crying is music to my ears. your trembling, sweating body and your face scrunched up in agony are what my dreams are made of. i've watched you for twelve hours already, i'll gladly watch you for another twelve, or even more. i don't want it to end. i'll wait until you've got the head to a crown - i want to see how you react to the famous ring of fire, i want to see you writhe and wail as the burning stretch reaches its widest, most agonizing point -, i'll let you have that feeling of success for a few minutes because i'm not a monster, despite what you may think right now, you know? you can feel happy about your accomplishment. and when you've had your share, i'll place my hand on your bulging pussy.
didn’t i say i'd love to see you pregnant a bit longer but prefer seeing you suffer through labor? well, i realised... why choose when i can have both? i'll place my hand on the baby's head and give it a nice gentle shove. oh, the scream you let out as that white hot pain sears through your nether region up into your entire body will be glorious
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212-4
(Sooo upfront I wanted to say I didn’t do any research on Stolkholm syndrome. This is almost certainly not a representation of the syndrome, more just a guy who hates his captor but has accepted he’s not getting out and has no better options. Don’t take this as an accurate portrayal of any real life trauma, and we’re good! - lafb)
My brain hurt. I struggled between two sides of my mind yelling at me. I wanted escape, so badly, but what would I even do once I got out? I carried the child of my captor. My family wouldn’t take a pregnant man into their home. I would likely not find a job. What did the world have out there that I didn’t have here.
Continua a leggere
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imagine a boy is chained up after labor begins. the people who impregnated him watch as his belly squirms and the life within his big belly presses against the skin eager to get out. the boy can barely take it as he thrashes and cries out in agony. "please its trying to kill me!" and "its too big! I cant do this please stop this please stop this torture!" are things he keeps screaming. hours and hours pass and his belly swells larger suddenly. the urge to push continues but nothing is happening. and he is growing again.. they are multiplying and the young are getting stronger and more impatient by the second. he screams bloody murder during more severe contractions and finally he feels something peak out but its far from over. whatever he is carrying is very, very big. too big. -Teddy
So big, it would be impossible to give birth to without breaking his narrow hips. The poor boy shrieks and writhes with each contraction, feeling the monster push and shove it's way down, wriggling through his too tight birth canal. His pelvis creaks from the pressure, threatening to snap at any moment, just barely holding together. As the babies kick and thrash inside his enormous belly, the boy kicks and thrashes with them, consumed by pain and unable to even think. It fogs his mind and all he can do is scream and babble incoherent pleas for help, but there's no one around to save him.
His captors only watch and laugh at his agony, teasing his belly and pushing the head of the creature back every time he tries to expel it. The pain makes the boy gag and retch, but his stomach is empty, having vomited everything he had in him long ago. Every hour the babies stay in his tummy they continue to grow bigger, expanding in his womb and forcing it to stretch further than it was ever meant to be. His belly soon becomes so large it looks as if a fully grown human could fit inside him. Beads of sweat drip from the trembling surface of his tight red skin as it creaks and bulges with the creatures angry movements.
The boy begs them to come out, begs his captors to help him before they kill him, “please, they’re too big, I can’t push them out! I don’t want to die, please don’t let me burst!” but no one steps in to help. They only revel in his agonized screams and watch as the creatures threaten to tear through the thin layer of flesh that’s keeping them trapped inside. With how much they’ve grown, it may be the only way out...
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thinking about squirting while you’re in labor and have a very pleasurable birth 😩
Squirting generally refers to women but I don’t do women. So imagine you’re on all fours, the head of an overdue baby stretching your anus open so wide that you’re afraid you’re gonna tear. You’ve never felt so insanely split open. You wiggle your hips, your rock hard cock rubbing against your contracting belly.
You push, face turning red with the effort. The pressure in your lower back is horrible. Suddenly the head surges out of your body, a gush of amniotic fluids squirting out of your hole. At the same time your cock releases a mind-blowing orgasm and spurts come all over your belly. Your overly sensitive anus quivers as you push the shoulders out. Cock trying to harden again as your prostate is rubbed raw as you push out the rest of the baby.
Gosh you need to do this again.
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The sharp ache pierced my body, a glowing pain that made my breath hitch. I breathed through 'o' shaped lips, sighing into the contraction.
"That's it, darling. Just one breath at a time." You say, steadying me gently with an affectionate hand.
I nod. "They're starting to get really intense." I noted. You reply with a smile, "Won't be long before you're giving birth, then."
Another contraction hits shortly. I lean into your shoulder and embrace your comforting warmth, but it does little to quell the pain. You trace my back and my hips, running your fingers down my pelvis and up to stroke my huge swollen belly, heavy with child; I'm all yours, from my heart to my body and your baby.
You feel my belly tense with the pressure. You trace the movement down, massaging from my stomach downwards towards the birth canal.
I can feel the weight of the baby pressing down into my hips as my body contracts on itself. Thoughts of pushing begin to place themselves in my mind, and I quiet them all my best.
I roll my hips gently, grinding into you. "Good boy. You're handling the contractions so well." I whimper as you slip a cold hand down over my oversized clit, sparing a gentle rub for good measure. "Better check your dilation, eh? You must be almost ready.."
I obey and squat a little, spreading my legs to allow you to gently dip your long, slender fingers into my cunt. You work your way leisurely through my labia.
"You're just looking for an excuse to finger me, aren't you, love?" I sigh.
"When aren't I?" You smile. You lean down and gently kiss from the bottom of my belly down to the top of my clit and re-angle yourself until you can feel my cervix. I see your face change as you realize how low the baby is sitting, cradled in the bones of my pelvis.
"It's so close, love. I can feel her right there. Let's walk to the bed." I take your hand and start to walk. It's across the house and down the stairs, a small pilgrimage but manageable. We start down the stairs. It's uncomfortable, and I step one foot at a time down them.
As I make the first step on landing, I gasp. Something shifts and the amniotic fluid begins to flow steadily down my thigh.
"There's your water - !" You grin. "It's go-time, dear. You're finally starting to give birth."
"Yeah.. yeah-aaah..! Ooohh.." I moan with the sudden pressure. As I take another step I yelp, the head slips again and my pussy gushes with the rest of the slick amniotic fluid trickling down my leg. "It's - ah - it's coming!" I cry.
"It's alright babe, just another few steps until we're at the bedroom. It's all set up for your delivery."
The walk the rest of the way down the stairs and to the bed sounds like crossing the continent when all I can think about is pushing. I shut my mind to the deafening instinct and obey, letting you guide me further.
As I make the first step past the landing, the flexing of my hips aggravates the contraction. I have to push. I can do it right here, standing up.. i don't have a choice anymore..
I fold into the pain and groan as I bear through it. It doesn't matter whether I try or not, my body is pushing.
You coax me on, a little more firmly. "Come on, keep going. You're almost there."
"No, I.. it's too far.. I can't make it that far..!" I say, struggling through the bumpy contraction.For a moment you sit and think, stroking my back and my hand.
Unwilling to waste more time, you gently scoop me up in your arms. It's not much effort, even swollen up as pregnant as I go i remain petite in comparison to you.
I curl into your chest comfortably. Gently you set me down upon the bed, holding me close and kissing my face.
Another contraction strikes. I moan and writhe. You gently stroke my belly, feeling it twist, watching the muscles roil. It's the most intense one so far. The feeling is overwhelming, I can't imagine thinking of speaking.
"Good boy, come on. Give my baby a push!" "Nnnnnnnngh..!" I groan, giving it a good effort, but making no progress. I wriggle, repositioning my body. Half side-lying I find an acceptable position.
"Push! That's right, while you've still got the contraction!" You're left in prime view of my quivering boycunt as the lips begin to soften as I bear down. "Push!"
And I do. I push through the whole contraction, and it's only as I stop to breathe that the steadily forming bulge slips back up and you can tell how much progress I made. Ever so gently you stroke around my pussy.
"You're doing it. Come on. I want to see the head this time. Don't forget to breathe." I nod. "Okay.. okay, I can do that.."
"And.. Push!"
I breathe into the effort. The feeling of the head filling my birth canal is so intense. The pain sears as I'm stretched from the inside. I hold my belly, feeling it squeeze downwards. A subtle teardrop begins to appear in my slick folds. "Yes!" You cheer, but I break and rest.
"That's okay." You say. "Good work. Are you ready?"
"No.." I whimper and shake my head. "I need a moment."
You can't help but appreciate my beautiful body as I lay labouring in your lap. My slender curves and soft breasts, my handsome shoulders and curly little beard. The way my dark hair runs up from my pussy, covering my big belly and my chest.
"It's time to keep going. Come on. This is gonna be a big one. On the count of three.." I brace myself. "One.. two.. three.. push!"
And I push, and push. I gasp between movements. Two steps forward, one step back, but now things are really moving. "Push, baby, push!
As the head emerges bit by bit you slip your hand in to feel. Thumbing my clit and tracing my perinium you position yourself to feel it as it begins to split my lips. The head is covered in coarse hair slick with my fluids. I whine as the crown approaches, wriggling against the pressure. Finally I collapse and catch my breath, the head sticking in position this time, past my tight hips.
"Keep going, love. Keep pushing."
I lean into the contraction, gripping at my belly and gritting my teeth. "Breathe, breathe. Push!" I adjust my pace so I can keep pushing with every breath out. The head begins to crown, wreathed in my labia, stretching open my tight, slick pussy as it inches out of me.
"That's it. That's it! Come on, push it out!"
"Unnnnghhh..! Ah! Ah! Ahhh!" My legs wrench open wider and wider as I feel the stretch. "It's! It's coming! Oh my god!"
If crowns much faster than I expect, the head now slipping downwards with the momentum. "It's coming, it's coming, PUSH!"
"AHH!! AHH, AHH, AHHH!" There's no thought or sense left, all my body and mind know is to bear down until I'm done. I scream it out, the head slipping out and in with each breath. Two steps forward, one step back.
"AHHHH-NNNGGGGGHHHH!" My pussy stretches to the limit as the head emerges, not all at once, stretching around every bit of it. It feels orgasmic, like the perfect prime moment of intense frustration and pleasure, before the release.
"Good boy, good BOY!" You praise. "Push! Push! Come on, give birth to my baby!"
I claw at my belly and scream as the baby erupts between my legs, the head clearing into your waiting hand. I ride the feeling of relief for a second and my breath shudders. The head turns in as it settles, the neck is clear of the umbilical cord. "Haaah.. hahhhh.."
"One more push. Come on. One big push!"
I bear down at last in a climactic effort, howling through the stretch as the shoulders slide out, followed by the rest of the body easing through.
You catch the baby tenderly in your hands, grinning year to ear. Dizzied, I catch my breath l as you placing the baby into my warm waiting chest. Limbs flail and the baby coughs and begins to cry. "It's a girl!" You announce.
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Don't Tell Dad I'm Gonna Be A Dad
“You’re sure you’re keeping out of trouble, Aiden?” “Yes Dad, I’m sure.” “Hey, don’t roll your eyes, you know why I’m asking.” “I know Dad, but you’ve already asked twice during this video call, and I answered. I’m doing fine. You can call Jake and ask him if you don’t believe me.” “…Well, it’s been a few months and I haven’t heard anyting bad. I’ll let you go today.” “Okay then. Later Dad.” “Mmhmm.” Aiden closed the laptop and leaned back in the office chair with a sigh, placing a hand on his belly. The bump was growing slowly, only just big enough to be covered by his hand. His first trimester was just about to end. "Hey, your dad hang up?“ Aiden smiled as he turned to face Jake, his lover and the father of his baby. "Yeah. You know how he is…” he sighed as Jake walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Always disappointed in me. If he knew about the baby…” A few months ago, 19-year-old Aiden was expelled from school. Given his history, his wealthy father Alan had had enough and sent him to live with a family friend, 34-year-old Jake. It was love at first sight for both of them. Barely a week after getting settled in they started having sex. It only made sense that a month into his stay Aiden got pregnant.
Continua a leggere
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Hi mods! Please credit me @meanpregcomm thank you so much!
IYP Requests #411-4
"A sailor tests his faithless lover by putting a spell on her, that she'd get instantly full term pregnant by each man she lay with while he is away for a year, but not give birth until his return. Neither of them are prepared for how enormous her belly is when he returns."
He couldn't prove it, but he suspected Benedictine of getting too friendly with her brother's business partner. It wasn't that important for her to be at the shop every day, she was only supposed to work there part time when they had two shipments at once to unload. He knew she just went to flirt. but she was the perfect wife in every other way--and she always denied that she was unfaithful.
He tried to put it out of his mind, but when he learned that his next voyage duration would be 12 months, he couldn't abide not knowing what she was doing while he was away. he'd only ever left her on short trips of a few months. The trouble she could get up to in a year...he needed something to help.
Although his mother had always warned him against it, he visited the shop underneath the butcher on rose street. It smelled nicer than he expected, like tobacco and cloves. He explained his predicament to the owner, who silently offered him a bag of herbs.
"Make this into a tea for her, and when you return from your trip there will be proof, either of her faithfulness or her faithlessness," the old man told him, gravelly voice somber. "Use caution, this is powerful magic."
Benedictine sighed with relief. Finally Nathan was gone and she could see Simon without so much dramatic sneaking! She set a basket of red flowers on her stoop--the sign they'd agreed on to mark when Benedictine had seen her husband board his ship and sail away--and waited. That evening, a knock on her door turned, as she opened it, into the handsome smile of her lover. She pulled him quickly inside, and he swept her into a crushing hug.
"Not yet, you dog," she giggled, slapping his hand away from her ass, "He's gone! I want to have DINNER with you, and take our time for once. "
She led him to the table, and a roast and some wine turned into more wine and giggles which turned into him kneeling on the floor, drunkenly pretending to propose. When she leaned forward to kiss him, he threw her skirts over her head and dived between her legs, lapping enthusiastically at her clit as she grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Before she came, she guided his lips back to hers and kissed him, savoring her taste on his mouth. She climbed down onto the floor with him and guided him inside her, fucking herself on him until he came in a warm gush. Sliding off him, she sank into a sticky black sleep, snuggled into his side.
When she woke up, she struggled to sit up. There was a big, round, heavy bump where her tight, twenty year old belly had been the day before. She looked pregnant, nearly ready to give birth. At first she blinked her eyes, wondering if she was dreaming or seriously hungover. She nudged Simon awake, and his eyes widened in horror. "So you see it too, I'm not imagining things," she thought aloud. "I need to go to the midwife."
She got dressed, dispatching Simon to ask the apothecary if he had anything for severe bloat. She headed to the midwife's cottage, hoping the flutters she felt in her belly were gas bubbles and not the kicks of a baby in an inexplicably fast pregnancy. Before she had managed to waddle halfway to the midwife's cottage, she was intercepted by the cardinal, who gave her middle a pointed look.
"My child, you look quite different than you did last week when I saw you at church," he droned disapprovingly. Taking her arm less than gently and strong-arming her into walking with him, he hissed "I know what you've been doing. The only way a woman can become pregnant so quickly is dealings with the devil." She protested, but his grip on her arm tightened, and he unlocked and dragged her through the gate into the courtyard of the church yard.
"I'm going to have to perform an exorcism," he said, holding her arms with one hand and lifting her skirts up over her big belly. He took out his cock and thrust into her awkwardly, breathing heavily. He muttered to himself about god and demons, and she slumped and tried not to think about his dandruff-riddled hair as he humped her. He came, and she felt relief as he pulled out and dressed her again. He began to button his trousers, and her relief turned to horror as she began to grow again before her eyes. The pain was intense, but the fear and shame she felt as she watched her already burdened belly double in size dwarfed any physical pain. What was happening to her?
The cardinal barely gave her a look before striding confidently off towards the chapel. Benedictine dragged herself to her feet, and continued to stumble in the direction of the midwife's cottage.
---
They had tied four hospital beds together, in the end. Other than sleeping on the floor, there was no other furniture in that would hold her. After the midwife had been unable to help, she'd returned home, and after discovering that everyone in her neighborhood was terrified of her, believing her possesses, she began a long, blistering walk to a neighboring village. Once there, she'd had to sell herself to earn enough to rent a room, but after each tryst she got bigger, until she was immobile and the decision was made by the town constable to take her to the hospital, where she lived for four months while waiting for her husband to return. She'd told them he was away on a voyage, but she'd left out the part about her pregnancy having begun after he'd left, exactly a year ago. She'd also let them believe her pregnancy was a normal length, and left out the full-term immediately part. She needed her hosts to pity her as an expectant mother of multiple strong sons of the land, not fear her as a carrier of demons.
---
He had spent twelve months imagining the hundreds of scenarios that could have played out with the magic tea and his wife. Anxious yet terrified to see her, he almost missed his captain shouting to him as he headed toward home.
"There's a message for you! Benedictine is in Portsmouth, staying at the hospital there. You're supposed to go meet her."
"Thanks captain!" he yelled over his shoulder as he waded into the sea of carriages, trying to hail a hackney cab.
----
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. When he had left, his wife had been a normal size, maybe a little thin. What he was seeing in front of him was an unrecognizable creature. Her thin arms and legs rested on a wooden platform built with a circle in the center, so her enormous stomach could rest on the bed below. She couldn't lift her head, and her breasts were also swollen and hanging down, ridiculously dwarfed by the pregnant orb of her stomach. Her belly must measure at least five feet in length, he thought to himself, and perhaps four feet wide. She is impossibly pregnant.
She turned her head with effort and spotted him. Instantly she started to struggle, trying to lift her head further to turn toward him and smile. "My love, you're back safely," she called to him.
He stopped right before her outstretched arm could reach him. "Don't touch me, you whore." He coldly surveyed her. "I don't know what you did, but these are not my children. I'm leaving you, and I never want to see you again. But before I go, I think I'm going to take advantage of your current state."
He climbed up on her platform and found where her pussy was underneath her skirts. He shoved himself inside her and angrily fucked her, ignoring her cries of pain, until he splattered the inside of her swollen vagina with his cum. He was cleaning himself up and walking away when he heard the groaning of the wooden platform as her belly began to swell with another child. He laughed aloud as he realized what the tea must have done to her. She gets more pregnant every time she has sex! What an incredibly fitting punishment.
"No, don't leave me," she screamed, sobbing. The wooden platform cracked and groaned, but ultimately it was her taxed womb that suffered, since she was now stuffed into the platform so hard it was digging several inches deep into her now larger belly. She screamed for her hosts, for her husband, and for god, as her bulging, whale sized middle began to pulse with contractions.
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i wanna crown with your baby in public, my big low hanging belly finally contracting hard, the only thing stopping me from giving birth right now is the underwear. im your broodmare and you wont let me give birth until you say so.
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Would love to see a twink boy already breastfeeding two hungry Orc babies and painfully swollen and overdue with the next two only for their Orc husband to break their water and them screaming out the next two hungry mouths to feed
Derek built Elliot a house deep in the woods, far away from anyone who might judge a human for marrying an orc. They have a good life, with a garden and a big porch and a growing brood of children. Their next one is coming any day--should have come a week ago--but Elliot is too busy to give birth anyway.
The twins lean on either side of his belly, sucking on his chapped nipples. Their teeth have come in, but they refuse to be weaned. It hurts to feed them, and it hurts more to deny them. His breasts haven't been dry in years, and they've swollen even larger with another imminent delivery, ready to provide for another hungry mouth. He's already unsure how they'll feed the other children through the winter.
Derek puts their older toddler to bed while the sevens--twins as well--put themselves to bed, taking their responsibilities as oldest children very seriously. Their five year old daughter lisps around her baby tusks, recounting her adventures in the garden.
Watching Derek be a father is the greatest joy of Elliot's life, and he'll endure annual labor pains and chapped nipples and aching hips to watch it over and over again.
As if in answer, a contraction ripples through him. It's his fifth pregnancy, and if the last pregnancy was true to pattern, he'll be squatting to give birth in less than an hour. He catches his husband's eye and mouths, "It's time."
Derek plucks the babies off of Elliot and puts them into their crib, and then bundles their daughter away. It only takes him fifteen minutes, but Elliot's contractions are only five minutes apart by the time Derek guides him across their farm and into the barn.
Elliot groans and leans against the wall, massaging his belly as the baby kicks. It has settled lower, nestled in Elliot's wide hips. It was hard at first, his slim frame straining under the weight of orc children, but his bones have spread with each passing year. He's so grateful he found a husband eager to help him fulfil his purpose.
Derek pushes Elliot's robe down. It wraps in the front, giving easy access to his milk filled breasts and sagging belly. This might be his biggest belly yet, a huge orb that's hid his feet for the last 4 months and brushes his knees when he sits. Derek massages it, then pulls out lotion to soothe chapped breasts.
"You're so hot like this," Derek groans. He squeezes a nipple between his massive fingers, and Elliot whimpers. It hurts, and shoots electricity right to his cunt. His belly ripples, and Derek presses worshipful kisses to it.
He works both of Elliot's breasts, so full they spill over his orc's wide palms. Derek praises him, licks across his nipples, then rubs lotion across Elliot's dome. He teases the line between navel and cunt, right where he knows Elliot likes it, and the overdue twink moans.
"I'm already close, honey," he warns.
"Close to cumming, or close to letting me meet our new baby?"
"Both."
Derek slides a finger along Elliot's wet folds, avoiding his dick. "Let's see if I can get both accomplished at once, then." Elliot can't see his husband's smirk past his belly, but he can hear it in his voice.
Derek turns him around and positions him over a work bench. It's covered in soft blankets and pillows, already prepared for Elliot to give birth without waking the children. Elliot grips the edge and braces himself as Derek pushes in, sheathing himself in one slick motion.
It doesn't matter how stretched Elliot's cunt is from six children, or how wet he is from his husband's touch, there's always an initial stretch from Derek's cock. He's just that girthy, the twisted vein pushing against Elliot's walls.
Two pumps and Elliot is cumming, cunt clenching as his husband keeps pounding. What they say about orc stamina is true, and Derek keeps going through another two contractions, keeping up a steady stream of growled praise. Elliot can't reach his dick to rub it, so he focuses on the feeling of being filled, of serving his husband, of being a breeder to be proud of.
A third contraction has his belly red and firm, and there's pressure on his cervix that means he needs to push. "Babe--"
"I'm so close honey, and you're so good to me, so warm--"
"Babe!" Elliot half sobs, and Derek pulls out, his cock dragging along every overstimulated inch of Elliot's tunnel. Elliot's waters gush out too, spilling down his legs and soaking the hay at his feet.
"You're moving so fast," Derek says. "You're so good at this." He guides Elliot down to his knees, which puts him at eye level with his husband's wilting erection. He reached forwards and holds himself up against Derek's corded thighs.
"Fuck my tits," he says, then whimpers with another contraction.
"Later--"
"Now!" Elliot insists. He'll wait a little longer; he never wants to miss an opportunity to watch the way Derek takes himself in hand, the way his eyes flutter shut with pleasure. He lifts his heavy breasts and slots Derek's cock in between them, rubbing.
"M so close," Derek grunts, and Elliot bends his chin, swallows down pump after pump of fertile seed, so much it spills down his chin.
Elliot wipes his lips, but then he wobbles as he feels their baby's head spreading his lips open. It hurts, every time, but Derek takes his hand, talks him gently through it as Elliot strains. The baby is too big for a human to carry, shoulders splitting apart his pelvis, but somehow he manages, like he always does. He screams as Derek gently catches the baby slipping between his thighs. Elliot leans back against the bench of pillows, and Derek places the baby on his chest.
The little infant wails, and eagerly latches to a nipple. Elliot cries with the miracle of it. "He's perfect," he whispers. He's huge, rolls of fat on all his little limbs. He's a bit bigger than their toddler was, and she was fourteen pounds.
"I'm so proud of you," Derek replies. "I could watch you do this forever."
Elliot meets his eyes, knowing that they'll be doing this again in a year. Elliot knows better, knows they should wait until they have more money, a better farm. But Derek is watching him with equal parts heat and adoration, and that's too good of an argument to refuse.
Elliot's belly contracts again, and he moans in surprise. When he presses down on sore skin, he feels an unmistakable kick. Lucky Derek gets to watch this twice in one night, again.
Already, Elliot is crowning. He arches his back and whimpers as Derek spreads his knees wider. Elliot sobs as bruised flesh is compressed again, as this second, larger baby forces its way out. His breast already ache with the thought of four hungry mouths dependent on his body. But Derek is delighted, laughing with wonder at how fertile his husband is as he guides their eighth child into the world.
Elliot is growing three more before these twins cut their teeth.
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Too pregnant
I want to hear you moan, whimper, and whine carrying my babies. To find you almost in tears over how big you are. Barely able to waddle as you pace back and forth, hands on your lower back, desperate to give birth. Your fecund stretch marked belly dropped low and on your hips. Babies weighing down on your core, the pressure all right on your poor swollen vagina. Your belly a roadmap of veins and angry red stretch marks. Your aching tits almost weeping milk they are so engorged and hot. Groaning in discomfort as the babies move in your heavy uterus. Tell me I did this. Blame me for ruining you with my children. Mewl you’re just too fucking pregnant as I throb inside your hot swollen walls.
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