So just so we're all clear ICE agent Jonathan Ross straight up murdered Renee Nicole Good in broad daylight and the government is calling HER the terrorist
My mom sighed. “You keep saying that. We miss you! This trip wasn't meant to be the better part of a year, you told us it would just be three months!”
I winced a bit. “Yea. I know. But I told you, stuff came up. I just need to finish everything up here, make sure all the loose ends are tucked away and messes cleaned up. Then I’ll be back home, safe and sound, back to normal. I promise mom, it really could be over any time now.”
I stopped pacing around the room, muting my microphone as my mom started to reply. Shit… I really wasn't lying, or even exaggerating. This one was bad. I braced one palm on the table in my kitchen as I leaned forward, moaning at the pain, the pressure inside me. Low in my hips.
Labor had started a day ago, I thought. Maybe a little longer. I could feel it was almost over. It felt like this baby could just fall out of me at any second, even though I knew it wouldn't be that easy.
This wasn't fair. He didn’t have to deal with this. Hadn't been stuck in another country, thousands of miles from home, letting a little accident swell his belly, change his body, wreck his life. He just got a hot one night stand with the cute tech specialist.
When I’d tried to tell him his broken condom had left a little surprise in my uterus, he quit his job and moved, stopped even seeing my texts. I wasn't exactly equipped to hunt him down. And even if I had, then what? He was kind of a dick, was fun for a night of sex, not for co-parenting or being long term with.
Co-parenting… I didn't want to be ANY parent. I didn't want to have a baby, be a mom. Not yet. Especially not like this. But I also didn't feel right aborting it.
I thought. Asked work if I could stick around, told them the systems here were a mess (not wholly a lie…) and they agreed. I said it should take 9 more months or so to solve. Maybe less.
If they were suspicious about the time frame, they didn't say anything.
“Ali? Are you still there?” Crap. My contraction had ended. I noted the time since the last one. They were getting real close now, and very strong. I un-muted myself. “Y-yea!” I answered, trying to make my fake smile audible.
We talked. She updated me on the world I missed so much. My brother, my dad, my friends. I so badly wanted to tell my mom I was pregnant and in labor and scared. That I needed her support as I rewarded a stranger with a baby, push by push.
“Well mom… work needs me for something. Again.” I said, covering a grunt of pain with an exasperated tone. I hoped. “I’m afraid I have to go.”
“Alright, Ali” she replied, sounding heartbroken. “But you come home soon, ok? We all miss you so much.” I forced my voice to stay steady. “Mmmhm. Love ya. See you soon!”
I hung up, and a low, urgent moan bubbled up my throat. Gods, the pressure. I felt like I was about to split open, I could feel it between my legs and in my butt. It really wouldn't be long now. My contractions were less than five minutes apart. If we’d kept talking I might have ended up delivering over the phone, and that would have ruined everything.
Even imagining my family finding out about this made me anxious. My mom begging, emotionally blackmailing me into keeping it, raising it. Not caring that it would wreck my plans, my career, just excited to have a grandbaby. One she would also excuse herself from having to help raise. My dad would be so disappointed in me. Tell me he taught me better than this. My brother would just be weirded out.
No. Better to just stay here. Give birth to an entire new person I never meant to create, and just… go back to normal. Pretend it never happened. We’d both be better off that way.
Another. I went back to pacing, even in awkward, stiff steps. I could feel gravity helping the baby sink down. Forcing my body open inside. Another contraction game, a deep groan of “fuuuuck I can’t do thisss…” coming out unbidden.
I blushed a moment. Then realized nobody could hear. No real reason to hold back, right? That was part of the advantage to my plan, nobody to listen in as long as I wasn't screaming and bellowing. Normal talking was safe enough…
My hands found the arm of my couch as I bent over. “I’m so open, I can feel it. This stupid thing is way too big… I can't be a mom… I don't want to have a baby…” letting myself ramble helped, even as another big cramp came. “Nnnggghhh it huuurts… oh godsss… hooo… hooo… Damnit, do I really need to use the bathroom? Now?”
The last came through gritted teeth. I told myself it wasn't that serious, that there were more important things going on. But the next contraction only made that feeling more intense. And the next even more.
Oh god.
Oh god oh god oh god.
This couldn't be it. This couldn’t be IT.
I’d known I was in labor. I’d known that I was going to give birth soon. But now? Right now? I’d wanted this baby out for months, basically since it was conceived. But it couldn't really be happening. I couldn't really be HAVING A BABY.
“I’m not ready to give birth! I caaaannnn’ttt!!!”
I gave into that feeling, squatting in the living room, in the little rental house I was only meant to be in for three months.
The baby. His baby. The little accident I’d had to feel growing inside me for months. Moved.
I pushed.
And the baby moved down.
Fuck.
I could feel it. The head, stinging, aching, starting to move down, into my birth canal. The pressure was overwhelming. Terrifying. It ached, made me feel full in a way I had never even imagined.
At the same time… giving in, finally. At last feeling that urge to bear down, not fighting it, and being rewarded with progress… it felt right. Almost like a relief. It was finally happening. Finally progressing, pushing, birthing.
It was all so much. After that first push I leaned forward, falling into my knees, arms folded on the couch with my head buried between them. “I f-feel ittt… oh goooddd… I’m really having a baby… I’m really doing this… fuck… fuck, I can’t, I CANNNGGGHHH!!!”
The guttural grunt crept out of nowhere, boiling up from deep inside me. Primal and desperate and powerful, replacing any screaming or sobbing I would do with pure, focused effort. My toes curled as I gripped the cushion, my body clenching, every bit of me curling inward, around my squeezing womb.
Steadily, the baby’s head continued barreling down. Slipping lower, lower. It felt impossible. Nothing inside me that is this big could possibly be this LOW. Before I knew it it felt right there. On the cusp of crowning.
I reached one hand down between contractions, fingers trembling, to feel myself. I gently prodded around the swollen, puffy folds I’d felt slowly changing over the months. They were so sensitive now, the pressure was aching all through my slit…
There. Right there. I was BULGING. It was close. My heart raced. There was a baby’s head close to coming out of my vagina. God. I was about to crown. I just got off the phone with my mom an hour ago, she had no idea I was even pregnant, and her secret grandbaby was about to crown its way out of me on the next push.
The next push… the next… oh… oh fuuuuuckkkk…
I was bearing down before I even thought about it, my hips dipping. My hand was still down there as I groaned, the sound ending in another rippling grunt of effort escaping me. I felt my lips begin to burn as the hairy, slick, almost slimy head of this accident began to open me from inside.
Touching it hurt. I couldn't stop. I could feel it, all of it, inside and out. It was a nightmare, but deep down I knew this was perfectly natural. Just the end of this long, slow process. Childbirth. I just needed to finish. I just needed to push a little more, and this would be over. The baby would be out and I could go home.
Tears ran down my face. My legs shook. My whole body hurt, and I was gulping in air. How did people do this more than once? Willingly? I could feel all of the head inside me. Could feel my soft lips wrapped around it. It was so intense, so violating.
All that thought was washed away as another contraction came. As the need to push came back. I cupped myself, giving in, groaning low and ugly as I bore down, feeling the head continue it's journey out of me.
There was just so much of it. I felt myself OPENING. More and more hair, forcing me into a teardrop shape. Then widening along the bottom. Spreading up into a wide O.
Would my mom have wanted to be here? To see her daughter, enduring this? Giving birth just how she did to me, for a man I barely knew? Watching my vagina spread wide, as I whimpered that I didn’t want to be a mom, didn't want to do this, even as I gave in.
I had to stop. It burned so bad, but the contraction was gone. The head sank back, but only a little. I was so wide, at a full crown. It was so much. Too much. I couldn't stand this. I just needed this over, needed this baby out.
Breathing deep, I tried to gather myself. I just needed a little more. The rest of the head, then the shoulders. The body would just slip out after that. I could be on a flight home tomorrow, or the day after.
I wanted to go home.
But I needed my baby out first.
I was pushing before I knew it. The forehead bulged against me, slipping down. I could feel its brow pop free… it's ears… nose… the whole head, I'm a sudden rush that made me dip my hips so hard it almost bonked against the carpet.
The urge to push… was supposed to end there, right? You’re supposed to get a rest once the head was born?
So why. Why did I still need to push more than I needed to breath?
The shoulders were rotating inside me. Pressing down. Forward. Inching closer and closer to emerging. I could feel them straining against my exit. It was so close! So CLOSE! Just a little bit more, just a bit more!!!
One arm popped free. The other. I let out a moan of absolute relief as the slick, wet body slithered out of my most intimate place.
It landed on the carpet with a splash and soft thud. I was barely much higher, my hips had bucked just a little to make room. As I sagged against the cushions, body starting to relax just a bit, the baby began to cry…
)----------
It’s been years now. I delivered the placenta. Left the baby outside of a local fire station. If anyone saw me, they said nothing.
Mom asks when I’m going to meet a man and give her grandkids, sometimes. I just smile, hand wave. I keep my flashback to grunting how badly I didn't want to have a baby to myself. She doesn't need to know.
If I have it my way they never will. My shameful little secret, the day I brought life into the world, made them into grandparents. And I’m never going to tell them, or anyone else…
There are some very fun preg or belly kink ask games out there, but the one's I've seen are typically focused on one flavor of said kink, or aren't strictly pregnancy-focused or are heavily gendered.
So I thought I'd to cook up 50 fun, kinky but not outright explicit, questions for an ask game. All pretty broad in application, and gender neutral! Please enjoy!
_______________________________________________________
What's your favorite aspect of pregnancy? What makes it hot for you in a kink sense?
Would you rather be with someone who IS pregnant, or be pregnant YOURSELF? (or both?)
Do you prefer pregnant bellies that sit high, or carry low?
Do you prefer a pregnant belly that leans more "torpedo belly" or "beachball belly", or something else?
Favorite pregnancy blemish (stretchmarks, veins, linea nigra, ect), if any?
If you could only pick one, would you keep hyperpreg, rapid preg, or perma preg? Why?
Favorite NON-physical attribute of pregnancy? (Ex: cravings, pregnancy brain, nesting)
Most niche part of pregnancy that fits into your kink?
How pregnant is TOO pregnant where it stops being hot?
Thoughts on ill-fitting/outgrowing clothes with pregnancy?
Do you prefer bare, partially covered, or tightly clothed pregnant bellies?
Do you have a favorite occupation to see a pregnant person performing?
In preg kink writings, when a pregnancy is abnormal in any way, do you prefer when it's supernatural (fantasy), technological (sci-fi), explained some other way, or not explained at all?
Who are some of your favorite preg kink artists/blogs?
Do you prefer when a pregnancy is super encumbering, or doesn't limit the pregnant person in an extreme way?
How do you feel about pregnancy and stuckage?
How do you feel about pregnancy and stuffing, or vore, or wg, or inflation, or any other kink that increases belly size?
How do you feel about pregnancy paired with another, non-belly related kink? (asker may specify)
Thoughts on pregnant belly worship?
Thoughts on pregnant belly manipulation? (like pushing on or shaking a pregnant belly)
What's something kinky you would love to do to a pregnant belly, outside of the realm of normal pampering or worship?
What's an outfit you'd love to see a pregnant person wear?
For kink purposes, what's your favorite stage of pregnancy?
Favorite view for a belly? (straight on, side profile, POV looking down as though it's yours, ect)
Do you prefer a pregnant person dressed to the nines, or basically in their pajamas?
Describe one of your most self indulgent preg kink fantasies in full.
Do you prefer super active pregnant bellies, or bellies with calmer babies?
Do you prefer smooth and blemishless pregnant bellies, or ones with lots of marks and veins and strain?
Favorite non-belly physical attribute of a pregnant person?
Favorite state for a belly button on a pregnant belly? (innie, outie, flat, ect)
Thoughts on pregnant bellies with a soft layer of chub around them?
Favorite word to describe a pregnant belly?
Do you prefer when a pregnant person is "maxed out" and at the height of their possible growth, or big but still growing, lending to some anticipation for what's to come?
What's your ideal rapid preg growth speed? How long should it ideally take to go from a flat tummy to full term?
Do you prefer a large/overdue singleton, or a batch of multiples?
What what point does "high order multiples" become "rapid preg" to you?
Thoughts on monsterpreg? If you enjoy it, what's your favorite monster to be/see someone pregnant with?
If you enjoy pregnancy encumbering mobility, do you prefer if its due to size, or weight? or both?
Do you think of a pregnancy kink as a more "vanilla" kink, or as one of the weirder ones?
What are some aspects of pregnancy that you enjoy in a kink way that AREN'T the pregnancy itself? (Ex: breeding, labor, birth, lactation, ect)
Have you told anyone you know IRL about your pregnancy kink? If so, who (within reason privacy wise), and how did they take it?
Favorite piece of pregnancy-centric media? (could be for kink purposes or otherwise)
Favorite part of a pregnant belly?
Thoughts on belly piercings on pregnant bellies?
In a kink context, what's an activity you would you like to be doing/see someone doing while pregnant?
At what point does a pregnant belly go from "big" to "huge"?
Do you have any preg kink "guilty pleasures"? What is one, if you have any and are willing to share?
Do you have another kink that you enjoy mixing with pregnancy? If so, what is it?
Do you have any irl stories or anecdotes that relate to your pregnancy kink in way way? Care to share?
In as much detail as possible, what's your IDEAL pregnant belly?
Casual birth is *so* good omg. Two friends just hanging out and watching a movie. One of them's calmly watching and eating popcorn, the other's pushing out a baby's giant head. So good.
God yes, I can just imagine two friends planning a sleep over for months and months and months, not really caring that one of them got pregnant in that time. They do everything together, what’s a pregnancy gonna change? Ughhhh I need to write this. Full fledged fic incoming you’ve inspired me.
Birth behind the cut, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
After countless delays and dozens of reschedules, it was finally happening. The long-awaited eve of the sleepover finally arrived, and Abigail was a ball of energy. After her friend had fallen pregnant, the sleepover seemed further and further off. Every weekend they’d planned got interrupted by a doctor’s appointment, a baby shower, or a family gathering; it was always something. But tonight, the stars had aligned, and they finally had some mutual free time. Everything was ready: the pizza order was in, the movie marathon was picked out, and an abundance of bedding was ready and waiting on the couch of Abigail’s apartment.
As if on cue, her doorbell rang. Abigail welled with energy, making a mad dash for the door, throwing it open with remarkable speed. Standing before her was her friend Violet, hunched over with a pained look on her face. Her massive belly, wedged between her knees, pushing against her pajama shirt, with just a peek of its drum-tight curve cresting the hem of her pajama bottoms, looked like it was going to explode.
“Vi… are you okay?” Abigail asked cautiously, worried in equal parts for her friend and their weekend. Her words seemed to snap Violet out of her trance, their eyes meeting and a smile appearing between them.
“Abby! I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me. Just some contractions, that’s all. I’m 43 weeks pregnant; I’ve made it this long. What’s one more night? Nothing is going to interrupt tonight; even if I end up pushing out a baby on your couch, I’m sticking around.” In the tone of her voice, Abigail found a remarkable lack of humor. She was serious. In some place Abigail kept locked deep inside her, something about that idea was profoundly arousing. Reaching out a slightly jittery hand, she took her laboring friend’s bags and helped her into the apartment.
Over the next several hours, snacks were consumed, games were played, and Violet’s labor became more intense. In the middle of a particularly clumsy round of Mario Kart, Abigail noticed that Violet was whimpering under her breath.
“Vi, you know you can be vocal around me, right? We promised a long time ago we’d do everything together, and if you’re fine with it, that means labor included.” She said with a reassuring smile, sitting with her legs crossed in front of her friend. Violet didn’t bother with a verbal response, instead flopping down on the floor and clutching her enormous belly, letting out a guttural moan of relief and pain. Abigail couldn’t help herself. She reached out and rubbed slow circles on Violet’s enormous swell, taking extra care to craze over her flattened belly button. Both girls met eyes with a mutual blush.
“If you want me to stop…” Abigail muttered, locking eyes with her sweat-covered friend.
“Don’t… you fucking… dare.” Violet rasped between labored breaths. It was clear Abigail’s presence and intimacy were just as good for Violet as it was for Abigail. “I don’t think I can sit anymore, this pressure is getting fucking unbearable. Let’s go stand somewhere, anywhere.”
With a silent nod, Abigail helped Violet to her feet and led her to the kitchen. She dimmed the lights, lit some candles, and put on some soft music. With a whimper, Violet draped her arms across Abigail’s shoulders and began to sway her hips in circular motions. Abigail’s hands snaked their way down under Violet’s shirt, rubbing the sides of her belly as it tightened, released, tightened, and released. Over and over, they danced this dance, whispering in each other’s ears between contractions. When her belly tightened up, Violet would freeze yo and squat, letting out guttural moans into Abigail’s ear. In response, Abigail would gently kiss Violet’s ear lobes to assure her friend she was there. Abigail couldn’t help but worry about how intense her friend’s labor was becoming. Right in the middle of an intense contraction, their bliss was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
“Shit, that’s the pizzas. I’ll be right back,” Abigail assured her friend, helping her lean on the counter before going to the front door. Violet offered up a smile, sad to see her new support leave but excited at the prospect of some food. Abigail opened her door, paid the delivery driver, and brought their dinner into the kitchen. She was only gone a moment, but a moment was all it took. She found Violet hunched over the counter, one hand clutching her crotch, the other white-knuckling the counter.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuCK FUCK!” Violet cried out, crescendoing just in time for a torrent of liquid to soak her hand, her grey pajama bottoms, and the tile floor below her. She released a relieved, trembling sigh as Abigail set their dinner down and embraced her from behind.
“Did that feel good? Looked like it hurt, but you feel more loose.” Abigail questioned, cautious and incredibly aroused.
“God, it felt amazing, just a release of pressure like I’ve never felt before. Honestly, that was the worse part, the fucking pressure.” Violet seemed better now, less intensely in labor. She washed her hands, drying off and stripping off her pajama bottoms. “Abby, I think I’ll need something else. I’m too far in now. I’m having this baby here. Mind if I borrow a skirt? That way, I can push when the time comes without having to fully strip down.” Violet said with a blush, realizing she was standing in her best friend’s kitchen, broken waters on the floor, shirt fully up over her belly in just her drenched panties. Modesty was beyond them at this point, but Abigail didn’t care. Beet red in the face and painfully aroused, she brought Violet a short skirt and a new pair of underwear.
“Here, I’ve had these forever, so I don’t mind if you get your… juices? Fluid? I’m not sure what the word is, but you can get them wet.” Abigail stammered, her entire body radiating heat. Her brain was beyond fried, words didn’t feel cohesive anymore. In a matter of hours, her friend would be pushing out a baby in her apartment. Just casually, during their sleepover, nothing major. Abigail couldn’t believe what was happening. It was like she’d stepped into a very wet dream.
Abigail brought some towels to sit on, and, on the cold floor of her kitchen, they stuffed their faces with pizza, Violet occasionally letting out loud moans between mouthfuls. It was increasingly clear they didn’t have much time left until the big event, though Violet seemed more energetic than ever. With a heave of effort, Violet stood wide-legged in the center of the kitchen before Abigail could react, swaying gently with her hands on her belly. From her position, Abigail could see a subtle bulge forming under her already-soaked new pair of panties.
“Go put some popcorn in the microwave. I promised you a movie night, and you’re getting a movie night.” Violet said with a smirk, helping Abigail to her feet. They talked as they waited, watching the microwave spin, its flow filling the room. Suddenly, Violet tensed up, gripping Abigail’s hand and slightly raising one leg. What the fuck is she- Abigail began to think before being cut off by the low sound of Violet straining. Holy fucking shit, she’s pushing. She’s holding onto me and she’s pushing. Her baby is coming out into my clothes, her fluids are all over my floor, she’s straining out a baby while she leans on my shoulder. I need her. Abigail thought, her free hand almost subconsciously going to stroke Violet’s belly. The noise Violet released when she let go of the push was one of relief, and it felt divine in Abigail’s ears. Watching Violet stumble to the couch, stopping twice to take her shoulder and bear down was the single hottest thing Abigail had seen in her life. If tonight just looped until time immemorial, she’d be happy with that.
They settled on the couch, started a movie- a Ghibli film, something relaxing and beautiful -then fell into a sort of rhythm. Abigail would become engrossed in the film for a few minutes, long enough to have a distracted few handfuls of popcorn, then Violent would tense up and grunt with effort at her side, snapping her back to reality. She fed Violet popcorn between pushes, and both watched the movie, cuddled up in ignorance of the baby beginning to peek out below Violet’s soaked skirt. Without thinking, Abigail snuck her hand between Violet’s legs, sliding a finger across what could only be the massive, unyielding head of a highly overdue baby pushing against the thin fabric of cheap cotton panties. Their eyes met, both of them blushing a deep shade of red. Before they could speak, Violet’s face tightened up, and she gave in to another push. They sat in quiet for a moment, Violet producing loud, vocal moans and Abigail feeling the head emerge, then recede, emerge, then recede over and over. Eventually, she felt Violet’s hand meet hers, and together, they pulled her panties down. Turning to assume a new squatting position, Violet leaned back on the couch’s armrest and lifted her legs, her skirt only barely obscuring the view of the tight crown nestled between her legs. This is far too casual, isn’t it? Abigail thought, watching the dazzling colors dance on the screen. Violet’s noises became increasingly intense, but now both girls were focused on the film. Violet would take breaks to push, and Abigail would take breaks to watch the tent in her friend’s skirt get slightly bigger with each push. They fell into a rhythm of watching their movie, then focusing on the impending birth.
“Fuck fuck FUCK Abby pause the movie, I can’t hold it anymore!” Violet shouted, lifting her skirt. Abigail got a clear view of the genuinely enormous infant barrelling through her friend’s pussy. Turning only briefly to pause their movie, she kneeled between her friend’s legs to guide the infant’s head out. With a full-chested scream, Violet pushed with everything she had. Her stretch became tighter, tighter, tighter, the most delicate skin on her body pulling so tight they turned white, a sense of numbness spreading across her nether regions until, with a wet pop, the head was out in Abigail’s hands. Both girls had never been so turned on in their lives. Shifting to the edge of the couch and hitting resume on their movie, Violet spent the rest of the film pushing out the shoulders until, with a wet plop, just in time to interrupt the climax, her overdue baby slid out onto Abigail’s carpet. Sitting back on the couch, the girls dialed the non-emergency line, requesting an ambulance to check on Violet and ensure all was well, and telling them not to rush. Finishing their movie and their popcorn, slick newborn in Violet’s hands, they cuddled up.
“Vi, how would you feel about doing this again? All of it. The birth, the sleepover, all of it. What I’m saying is, I think we should move in together and have another kid.” Abigail whispered, voice trembling slightly, a mix of arousal and anxiety.
“Sounds good to me.” Violet tiredly whispered, “Next kid is coming out of you, though.~” Abigail shivered in anticipation, tracing a hand over her flat belly. This next year would be fun.
Thoughts on a difficult birth? For me, I like it when it takes a long time and for the mother to struggle to push the baby to a crown or even pass the crown.
Difficult births are my favorite! Especially when the mothers are loud, barely making any progress as they struggle to push. Everytime I find a new video with a difficult birth I instantly save it!
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
dededos
kianamaiart
