Heavy With Child

24 | Jada | genderfluid | belly enthusiast & monster lover

[a-monster-brood]

A Monster's Tip Jar

When I started this blog, it was a place for me to share some fantasies free of shame. I never expected quite so many of you would enjoy my writing, let alone follow me.

My job is physically exhausting me and I have got to find a better option. Doing more of this is the dream, and every tip buys me a little time to answer asks and work on longer pieces.

Instead of commissions, I've set up a tip jar. No pressure, no pay to play. But if you leave me a request and tell me how much you tipped, I'll bump you to the top of my queue.

Support Jada Winterton on Ko-fi! ❤️. ko-fi.com/jadawinterton

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[stuck-crowning]

I love when they're so slight and skinny that pregnancy looks ridiculous on them. Showing so early because there's nothing to hide even a small bump. Their belly seeming to take up their whole body when they're not even close to full term. It sticking out and handing low because there's just no more space inside of them. Looking at their hips and knowing they're going to struggle even if the baby isn't big. Them struggling under the weight and bulk of their stomach, completely overwhelmed by their pregnancy.

[a-monster-brood]

Thinking about a space ship traveling to another planet... It will take at least a century to get there, so it is imperative that everyone on board reproduce. A bunch of horny scientists spend all their free time in an orgiastic haze... but they don't get knocked up nearly fast enough.

The doctors on board, who signed on to deliver babies, are suddenly cooking up drugs to induce hyper-ovulation. They use one of their own as a test subject, injecting him daily and then all taking a turn pumping him full of sperm.

His womb starts swelling almost as soon as they finish. His breasts go up three cup sizes that first week. When they do they an ultrasound, they see NINE embryos growing in his fertile womb.

He knows how dangerous it is to carry that many babies, but he has to do it. His doctor colleagues are eager to help, massaging his spreading hips and the rapidly expanding dome of his belly. Five months in, when he already looks like he's carrying about a beach ball, he moves into the zero-G part of the ship.

The reduced gravity takes the weight off his joints, but that means his womb isn't limited by his own strength. His babies keep growing, stomach swelling impossibly far, skin patterned with stretchmarks. He gets visibly bigger every day, until his skin is paper thin and he can see constant rippling movement.

Whimpering and delirious, he delivers all of the babies at full term, not one of them under ten pounds.

If he can manage that a dozen more times, he might be just fecund enough to save humanity.

[bellyvirtues]

New dragon rider who misinterprets their title and has to deal with the consequences of their misunderstanding by swelling up with their dragon's brood

[incubatorprincess]

plants which have evolved to have a very specific way of spreading their seeds. they have the most gorgeous, silky smooth petals, perfectly enticing to any fairies that may happen across it. maybe the fairy sits for a moment, maybe they even decide to take a nap, but its not long before the petals fold in on themselves, not unlike a venus flytrap, encasing the fairy within

inside the flower, aphrodisiacs flood the air as small vines wrap around the fairy, stripping them of their clothes and manhandling them into the perfect position for its pistol to penetrate the fairy's soft folds, pumping in and out until the fairy is a mewling mess, before it begins to pump the little fairy full of its seeds, stretching the poor things belly out obscenely until they can't take any more

once the fairy is filled to the brim, the plant opens up again and its vines retract. it'll be days before the fairy's body begins to urge them to push, plenty of time for them to fly (or, more likely, walk) far enough away to spread the plants far and wide

[wereknightpreg]

Getting fucked by a tall, handsome stranger at the bar only to wake up the next day not sure where you are with a swollen, kicking belly

[a-monster-brood]

Shhh, lay back baby. I know it hurts to have my big cock inside you, but it will feel better if you relax. That’s right, that’s my baby, just like that. I knew you’d like it.

I knew I was right to choose you. I could have picked out anyone in the world to carry my babies, and I picked you. Doesn’t that make you feel special? It should.

You’re taking my cock so well. You were meant for this. I’m giving you a purpose. I’m putting my seed inside you, and you’ll get to carry it with you for months. Everyone will know what you mean to me.

Oh you like that, huh? I can feel you clench around me. You want me to cum in you now? You’re ready for me to claim you.

Don’t worry. We’ll do this tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Until it takes. I won’t let you be empty.

That’s it, baby. Was that good for you too? Say thank you, Daddy.

[a-monster-brood]

Something about working on a farm, hauling bales of hay and milking cows, makes you feel like a real man. The minotaur who oversees the barn treats you like one, slapping you on the back and giving you dirty jobs, even though he’s a foot taller than you and twice as wide.

He’s so big, in fact, that sometimes you can’t focus on anything but the swell of his biceps. When he takes his shirt off in the heat and his back muscles ripple, you might swoon.

You force the feelings down. You can’t fuck a coworker, even if you have to crawl home and jack off every day instead.

Breeding season hits, and you spend every day helping the cows until you don’t have energy for anything else. You stay late one night and stop into the barn to grab your jacket when you hear the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. You think a bull has got loose to mount the heifers, and start forward.

It’s your minotaur, braced against a wall, eyes shut, mouth panting, fist around his cock. It’s the biggest you’ve ever seen, bigger than you ever imagined, and you’ve been eyeing his obscene bulge in his tight jeans for weeks. A proper bull cock with a flared head, thick against his massive hands.

You take a step forward, already half cockdrunk. You want to wrap your tiny hands around it, if they’ll reach.

His eyes snap open and lock onto yours. You can’t breathe.

“Please,” he rasps. “I need…”

All you can do is nod.

He pulls you to him, pressing you against his thick belly and barrel chest. He’s huge and sweaty and smells of bull, and he’s so talk his cock rubs against your breasts while you’re both standing. You would jack him off that way, but taking your binder off would take too long. Your thighs are already dripping slick.

He shreds your jeans, lifts you against the wall, and sinks you onto his length. Your eyes roll back at the stretch as he pushes against your cervix. He snuffles your neck and slides you down farther. You press against your stomach, jacking him off through your belly.

Long before you adjust to his girth, he’s driving into you, slamming you against the barn wall, bellowing and grunting. One hand holds you up, the other desperately kneads at your nipples through your binder. “Need,” he groans. “You. Need you. Months. You.”

He jerks inside you, shooting thick ropes that bloat your womb until your belly presses against him. His monster cock keeps every drop inside you.

“Months,” he says again. “And every bull in here bellowing his need to breed, and here you are, perfect little heifer for me, and I couldn’t have you.”

He lowers you to the ground, his cock somehow staying nestled inside you. It throbs, thickening.

He rips your shirt off you, then unfastens your binder. Your heavy D breasts feel different under his appreciative gaze. He palms them, works nipples between his rough fingers. You touch your clit while he spoils your milk bags, praising them with a low, desperate voice.

He’s fully hard inside you, pressing out your belly, massaging every inch of you. He’s going to fuck you until his bull stamina gives out, until you’re bred with his calf, until your udders swell and double in size.

Bulls have instincts to follow, after all.

[a-monster-brood]

You find the statue in the back of your antique shop, with no memory of how it got there. It was surely sculpted as a joke, a grinning gargoyle with a comically large phallus, not even a hint of clothing to keep him modest. Maybe it's because you haven't gotten laid in months, but something in you yearns for him.

After a few drinks one night, you're alone in the shop and you start to fool with the statue, slicking his cock, pressing your lips to the salty granite. When his cock jumps under your hand, you think this is just another dream featuring the gargoyle that has dominated your fantasies for weeks.

You brace yourself against a grand piano and slide back onto the phallus, your needy wet cunt stretching to its limit to accommodate it. Hands like sandpaper grip your hips, claws prick the rolls of fat on your belly, and he presses deeper into you.

You lose track of how many times you cum. Every load he shoots into you is thick as wet cement, weighing down your womb, and his cock never gets softer. By the time dawn breaks, every inch of you aches and you're weeping with the overstimulation. He pulls out, finally, and you fall asleep on the carpet at his feet.

You start gaining weight, a few pounds a week, and your hips and back ache, but it takes months for your belly to start to show. It's a faint, hard curve, enough for you to go to the doctor, enough for them to show you the sonogram of a perfect baby growing in your womb.

You start to gain more weight, and even with your belly modestly round, it's nearly impossible to roll out of bed. Six months pregnant, not even wearing maternity clothes yet, and you've gained over 100 pounds.

Your belly is red and angry, covered in stretch marks, and the only time you're comfortable is cocooned in pillows. The weight of your son on your pelvis makes your bones creak, but it also feels good. You love to stay in bed all day and rub your sensitive stomach. Your womb is so strong, growing this tiny statue. You were chosen for this.

[a-monster-brood]

Don't just breed that old man. Dominate that old man. Send him dirty pictures while he's at work. Turn on the remote vibrator in his panties when he's in the middle of a board meeting. Leave a plug in his cunt all day as a reminder of what you want to do to him. Tell him explicitly, on his work email, what kind of fucking is waiting for him at home.

That way he'll be so desperate for your cock inside him it won't even occur to him to ask for a condom. He'll be bent over the kitchen counter before he's even taken his shoes off, slacks around his thighs as you shoot your load into him.

He'll blame the bloating and tenderness on menopause. He won't question why his periods stop. It won't be until his suits can't button around the swell of his belly that he'll admit he's still fertile. You'll massage his aching hips and promise to make the most of every year he has left.

[pregnantispretty]

Belly expansion and hyper pregnancy will always have a place in my ♥️♥️♥️ do you like enormous bellies?

[a-monster-brood]

You’re hidden in a closet, blanket shoved between your teeth to muffle your sobs. Your baby is coming soon, and you want to scream at the pain.

Outside, the enemy is searching your castle, looking for valuables. You sent the servants away, but your heaving, gravid belly slowed you down too much. You thought you could hide.

But now you’re in agony, lips spread around your baby’s crown, bones creaking, in a puddle of your own waters.

Don’t cry. Don’t scream. Not even a whimper, or they’ll find you and they’ll take you. There’s no question what they’ll do to you, with the evidence of your fertility right in front of them.

[a-monster-brood]

An errant knight has spent his life roaming the countryside, protecting damsels and slaying monsters. He takes beds where he can get them, and companionship when it is offered. Damsels give him kisses and flowers, but farm girls corner him in barns and spread their legs. They can take his strength, his size, and he never has to worry if his seed takes hold. He has children all across the kingdom, but he’s always gone before he needs to take responsibility.

He’s getting older now, thinking about finding a farm to call home. It might be nice to stay put and watch one of a young girl swell with his sons. If he’d married the first girl he’d had, they might have grandchildren by now.

There’s a particular village, with a good pub and a view of the mountains. He’s gone back a few times, had his way with barmaids and milkmaids. Nineteen years he’s been coming.

The girl serving him has spectacular tits, her corset laced to show them to advantage. Her dark hair and sly smile fill him with a memory of when he was a younger man in just this pub. He slides a hand over her wide breeding hips and gives her a wink.

He takes her virginity in his room. What was once an idle thought is now a need. He’s never wanted like this. He has to keep her forever, protect her, wake up every morning with his cock between her thighs.

Then there’s a monster attack, and a border skirmish, and suddenly six months pass before he can get back to her. He comes with a ring. She meets him with a belly that looks ready to pop. Her milky breasts spill over the top of her blouse. Her hips sway. She takes his hand and presses it to her swell so he can feel the babies kick.

“Twins,” she tells him. Then, the bigger surprise.

Nineteen years ago, he left another girl in this pub in this very condition. His daughter grew up waiting for daddy to return and claim her. Claim her he did, before she knew who he was.

Funny how things work out, that he’ll be getting his children and grandchildren all at once.

[a-monster-brood]

The queen is staring daggers at you. You pretend not to notice. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of you; the king can’t keep his hands off you. Demurely, you smooth your hands over the swell of your bastard belly. It’s not your fault you’re so very fertile.

[a-monster-brood]

When the naga in rut caught you in the woods and fucked you for days, you were sure you’d carry his egg. But your belly is wide and rippling with movement, skin stretching and swaying with the python inside you. And when labor hits and your serpentine offspring slides out of your cunt, you can feel every ripple of muscle against your walls, and it goes on and on as it uncoils and you learn how long it really grew.

[a-monster-brood]

The adventurer was exploring a cave when he was captured by a drider, and speared on her ovipositor. She left an egg sac inside him, stretching his belly to a heaving full term mound in minutes. He endured the pain and the humiliation as best he could; eventually he could lay the eggs and forget this ever happened.

But that was months ago, and his hard, heavy belly is starting to move. The eggs are hatching inside him. His belly already hurts so much supporting the weight of the eggs, and now he’s getting bigger, and his skin hurts so much. He still doesn’t know how to get his clutch out of him.

[a-monster-brood]

You love being a nun. You honor your vows of chastity so much you don’t even touch yourself. You hide your body under long robes and do penance every time your mind strays. 

You have dreams of shadowy caresses that leave you sticky and sweating, and you have to spend long hours in chapel to atone. You take to wearing a heavy chain around your waist and between your legs. 

Your belly starts swelling, and you will yourself not to notice. You pretend it isn’t happening for months. Your hips and back ache with the weight you refuse to acknowledge. Your breasts are full and tender. Your nipples rub against the rough fabric of your robes and it lights you on fire. 

You lay awake at night and feel the thing inside you moving. It kicks so hard your robes ripple. You cradle your belly and pray to God for answers. You pray for it to go away.

Eventually the shapeless black of your robes can’t save you anymore. The mother superior chastises you for being a whore. She places an iron collar around your throat to remind you of your sins. She tells you to do penance where everyone can see your punishment.

You weep and swear your virginity. You beg for help. She is unmoved. She tells you to swear on the Virgin Mother and maybe your innocence will be proved, but more likely you will be punished for claiming her holiness.

You kneel at a pew to do as you are told. Your knees are bare on the cold floor. Your hips burn as they spread under the weight of your bastard. Your belly hangs with nothing to support it. Pain rips through you as your womb tightens. She tells you that is punishment for your sins.

You pray through a haze of days. Your belly grows, and sags, and writhes. You spread your knees and rock your hips and sob. Your breasts are so tight they throb. Your robe strains against your girth. You keep your hands on the pew.

Water trickles down your legs. Your womb is nothing but agony, squeezing down on the monster inside you. It rips you open. Your bones creak. Instinct tells you to reach between your legs and ease its way. The mother superior seizes your wrists and binds them to the pew.

You scream and scream. You are a warning to the other harlots in the convent. Your whelp spreads you open. You push and strain, but there’s no one to help you or soothe you. You scream for God’s help and hear no answer. 

There is a night, and a day, and its head slips out in a gush of fluids that puddle around your knees. You sag with exhaustion, unable to keep going, pain leaving you incoherent.

Gravity does its job eventually. Inch by agonizing inch, your massive offspring squeezes out of you, changing your body forever. When you push a demon into the church, everyone will know you for the devil's bride.