[viddharta-joshua]

Had this idea in mind all day about a guy encased in gelatinous cubes and forced to breed those continuously by some kind of wizard with a weird obsession. I mean if you follow this tumblr you already know I have oddly specific kinks, anyway.

[angel-spores]

slimes are so slow you have to be really pathetically bad at adventuring to get raped by one. which isntbto say it doesnt happen. tripping and falling in a dungeon, hitting your head, and by the time you come around you realize youre pinned down by sticky globs of slime working its way under your armor, dissolving fabrics and making your skin feel hot. its groping you too, but when you try to move your limbs they wont budge. youre stuck in this slime while it has its way with you until a more experienced adventurer comes along.. you just hope you can last as the slime stimulates your most sensitive areas and makes your brain go funny with arousal.

[preggoliciouslyround]

Want to be stuffed with tentacles that pump, in and out, pushing past my cervix and fucking countless eggs into my womb, then fertilizing them with lots and lots of hot, intoxicating cum. Want to be high and delirious off it, my brain turned off, only aware of the eggs growing, writhing inside me, my skin pulling taut and then further still as the eggs expand over… hours? Days? Who knows. Want to feel my tits grow heavy and painful, feel my nipples become swollen and puffy. And then eventually, after what feels like an eternity of eggs and heat and neediness pooling within, I want to feel the rush of pain and pressure, and the intense, almost orgasmic release that comes when my water breaks, more liquid than has ever poured out of me before. I want to feel every inch of every egg as my body pushes them down, towards their entrances into the world. Want to feel the pressure mounting between my hips, then pressing into my cervix, opening and opening and coming down until it’s bulging out of me behind the lips of my cunt. Want to feel my legs shake as my lips finally start to part, burning as I realize just how much my tight hole is going to have to stretch. But the pain is pleasure, my moans with each contraction laced with eroticism, fueled by the eggs themselves, their membranes seeped in whatever sedative the creature’s sperm contained. Want to feel my legs spreading on their own as the massive egg widens my hole, my toes curling, my tits starting to leak simply from the force of each of my desperate pushes. Want to feel the pressure grinding against my clit from the inside, only intensifying as the egg approaches a crown. Gasping, breathing shakily as the widest part of the egg begins to breach my opening. Taking a moment to bask in the pleasure of the burn and the stretch. And then when the next contraction begins, pushing with all my might. Want to feel the first egg finally wrest free of me with a loud pop! And a long moan of pleasure on my lips, the release causing an orgasm to ripple through my entire body. Over and over and over again until the end, exhausted and with only a few eggs left to birth. Want to be sucked of effort to give, the sedation wearing off as there’s less and less of the eggs and their membranes to intoxicate me. Feeling the burn worsen each time a pulsing egg shoots out of my raw cunt. Until I don’t have anything left, so my body has to take over, pushing in short bursts as I fade in and out of consciousness. Falling asleep while my cunt stretches around the rim of an egg, where the widest part sits just inside me. Waking with a scream as a more intense contraction begins, my body pushing involuntarily, eyes opening as the final egg shoots out of me. Want to be panting, finally empty, drunk on my body’s hormones, when I feel the familiar touch of a tentacle, working its way back into my ruined cunt. Want to feel it push past my cervix again, still not yet closed after the days-long birth. Want to feel eggs, smaller this time (for now), but more numerous, deposited back into my newly-emptied womb, and want to feel myself fading into sleep again as the tentacle pulls out of me with a wet squelch, satisfied with having bred me again.

[blight-freak-parade]

Just wandering thoughts this time… I see a lot of birth scenarios in medieval times, but I think there is untapped potential in the detail of being manhandled by guards. Armored guards.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel holding you in place while they force open your legs, bruising your thighs with their tight hold, opening passage for the life within you waiting to be born.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, following the orders of another, covering your contracting belly with ointments and remedies, the jagged edges of their gloved steel armor feeling like a threat against your skin.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, pressing down harshly against the top of your tummy when your baby is moving too slow, the imprints of their hand and every unnatural edge left onto your belly.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, slowly entering your hole to feel for a head or how much your cervix has opened.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, cruelly entering your hole, to claw your amniotic sac broken, and force things along.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, gently trying to stretch the skin around the crowning head, ever so cautiously, but not even the cold touch is a relief against the ring of fire.

Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, forcing your legs shut, refusing you the respite of birth and the babe within you to crown.

These are just a few snippets I thought of but I’m sure there’s many more you could do… I also focused on hands, you probably can get funky with armored figures handling a birthing person in general?

And considering how guards are well… Lackeys for royals, kings, whatever, there’s a lot of potential in medieval and fantasy scenarios especially honestly. Especially if you add monster fuckery into the mix, or some other factor that makes the person run away from the law or a royal. Which I see a good amount? So, this came to mind kind of. I don’t know if anyone resonates, but go crazy with it if you want idk lol

[fareplay]

Being strapped to a table where researchers keep poking and measuring and teasing you until you get wet and flustered. They bring out a baster full of strange goo and shove it inside you, pushing every ounce of the cold thick fluid inside. It takes a little under an hour for your belly to start getting big, your stomach muscles keep tightening as if to fight against the expansion happening inside. Your observers watch apathetically and bring forth a cold metal tray to place between your legs. As your body continues to change, you wriggle and pull against the restraints but they hold you down and keep taking measurements, keep rubbing and stimulating your body. You lose sight of your toes as the mountain of your belly thrusts upwards, jagged with veins and growing transluscent with some unnatural color. You never even conciously push but you hear the splat of eggs hitting the tray, one after the other. They keep growing inside you and overflowing out onto the tray as gloved hands stroke you into orgasm again and again.

[heavyheavycream]

"+" - part 8/9

(its available uncensored if u want here :3c)

[fatterbiggersofter]

Berry Bliss 🫐

(POV Blueberry TF)

You'd read the warning label ten times over, but part of you still didn't think the gum was going to work. How many times had you fantasized about feeling your skin stretch over your swelling, blue body? Too many to count. But now you were nervous, feeling my warm hands pressed reassuringly against your back.

"Just don't get too big, okay?" I said, taking a couple cautious steps back as you popped the gum into your mouth and started to chew. The tastes were so real. The savory first course, the buttery sides, then the moment you'd been waiting for: the fruity dessert. It started in your jaw, and it did, indeed, feel funny. Tingly.

You'd cleared out some space in the middle of the room, furniture pushed to the walls. Turning now to face me, I grinned and and told you that your cheeks were already going blue. You chewed faster. The taste was so rich, every bite so juicy. Your tongue felt a little swollen as you chomped away.

The bloated feeling started lower than you expected, pushing out from the bottom of your belly, the waistband of your sweatpants rolling down. Your fingers, tinged blue, pressed into the soft skin of your rounding belly, feeling it starting to soften and slosh. You cold see your cheeks wobbling at the edge of your field of vision as you stared down, holding the bloat with both hands.

Then it started to spread. Your sweatpants felt snug on your thighs and butt. I had suggested you strip down to avoid completely losing these clothes, but you weren't going to give up the feeling of outgrowing them. Your thighs pushed your feet apart, the stumbling motion sending you into a sloshy wobble as you righted yourself, properly round now. You could feel your arms pushing away from your body… no your body was pushing them away.

The seams on your shirt strained, then started to rip. Your skin was pleasantly tight and tingly in all the juiciest spots. They didn't advertise on the warning label how turned on you'd feel, it was like the juice was making every part of you feel sensitive and engorged. Without thinking, you reached up and held your aching chest, feeling a wet spot forming on your shirt where you'd pressed your nipple, letting a little juice out… reminding yourself that you had to be more careful, you didn't want to lose a drop.

Your torso was already near-spherical, your arms resting at your round sides, your hips and lower body starting to round even more after sliding your sweatpants lower. The sound of your shirt tearing on both sides came just as a surge of growth had your shoulders starting to dip into the curvature of your rounding chest. Everything was tight and full and perfect. You chewed harder, like you were juicing the gum for all it could give you.

And you kept growing. Your balance was off, all the juice wobbling and making you start to sway on your splayed feet. Your elbows sank into the juicy balloon of your body, your thighs following as your arms and legs continued to be stretched outward. Your heart leapt as you felt yourself fall, but you didn't fall so much as… roll. Landing with your crotch perfectly against the ground, the wet weight of your body gently grinding on you as your face slowly tipped towards the floor, the last of your shredded clothes falling away.

Your tongue was too swollen to talk, but you could chew. My hands against your juicy, berry skin felt overstimulating to the point of moaning. You were a five-foot berry, perfectly spherical with your head, hands, and feet poking out from the plump surface. The sensation of being rolled, gently, feeling the leak of juice coming from your swollen groin and nipples subside as you tried to calm your breathing and chew more. Watching the ceiling getting a little closer with every bite. Feeling your body starting to brush the furniture.

"Babe, you're… um… getting a little big," I said, barely visible as your head started to sink into a divot of your growing body. It felt too good to stop. Your body was so full and round and juicy. You felt the pressure as you began pushing against the ceiling of the room, the soft surface of the couch rolling you away from it, against the other wall. I was calling for you to stop, but you were chewed, your swollen tongue barely giving you any room to move your mouth. The pressure felt incredible. Inside, all the juice against your skin. Outside, your skin against everything else. Unable to move, barely able to flex your purple, swollen fingers.

When the gum finally lost its flavor, you'd swollen into an eight-foot overripe berry, trails of juice dribbling from your nipples, mouth, and crotch. You knew I'd juice you. Tell you that you'd gone too far for your first time. You could feel my hands already scaling the curves of your body, searching to find any of the most sensitive parts of you that would start releasing the pressure…

But you'd swell yourself right back up, you knew that. Being this big, blue, and juicy was too perfect not to chase with every moment. This was how you were meant to be.

[violetrayne88]

When I say "I want to be a baby factory." I don't mean I want to pop out 1-4 babies every 10 months...

I mean I want to be massively continuously pregnant, pumping out babies onto a conveyor belt, with my giant milk bloated tits attached to pumps draining into vats.

[gin1900072]

(Warning for noncon, breeding, hyperpregnancy, medical) (This is weird, read at your own risk)

What if there was a genetic mutation that altered a man’s sperm, so that once inside the womb, they can live indefinitely until it’s time to fertilize an egg… If one of these men cums inside someone, it doesn’t just mean one pregnancy. Millions of sperm now live permanently in their womb, all waiting for their chance to fertilize an egg… and they’ll never go away.

Maybe the presence of this altered sperm also changes the uterus, messing with the hormonal system and triggering a constant, steady stream of eggs to be released for insemination. Once one egg is fertilized, it doesn’t stop: more and more inseminations will occur like clockwork, forever, until the body is unable to produce any more. The man just needs to cum inside once, and he receives a full-time baby factory for life.

People are aware of this mutation, and take precautions to protect themselves from men that have it… But some will inevitably fall victim to it.

I’m imagining hooking up, having a one night stand with a nice, handsome man… and over the next few weeks I realize something is very wrong. My stomach slowly begins swelling, visible after just a week.

Soon enough, it’s clear what has happened, and I’m taken in by medical professionals who are trying to find a cure for people afflicted with this condition. I slowly succumb to the dawning horror that my body was now primed to produce babies. Forever. The doctors run tests and monitor me 24/7, but slowly they lose interest in trying to “fix” me at all, choosing instead to study my body’s transformation.

First, my womb begins to distend with the first few dozen successful fertilizations. Slowly, my body starts to adjust to the changes in my hormonal system: my breasts slowly grow, at first doubling, then tripling in size, becoming massive watermelons full of milk. My hips slowly widen, swelling with a soft layer of fat in preparation for nurturing my growing brood.

Day after day, I’m forced to watch my body grow heavier and heavier, as the doctors take measurements on my stomach, my breasts, my hips…

At first I’m able to walk around my living quarters, at least, struggling with the weight of my immense brood, and trying not to catch glimpses of my body in the mirror. My once pleasantly chubby body is now a caricature of fertility, my massive stomach hanging down to my knees, my breasts still plumping up with no signs of stopping.

A few months in, I try to make it out of my cot, but my womb is officially too large to allow me to walk on my own strength. Now all I do, every day, is watch my belly extend further and further. Lying on my back, my legs splayed out helplessly under my massive form, I am officially more womb than I am anything else. The weight of my belly is like a warm waterbed, cementing me to the mattress.

After 9 months, the first round of babies are ready to be birthed. Throughout this “first pregnancy”, that single load of semen had been working methodically, and even after I give birth to the first batch, dozens and dozens more were still growing inside.

Never again would I know the feeling of an empty womb. Never again would I be able to walk, or even crawl: wherever the doctors put me, that was where I was going to be. Like a fancy piece of lab equipment.

Because of the size of my belly, in order to deliver the babies safely the doctors have me repositioned, having me lay stomach-down. My toes don’t even come close to touching the floor, as my womb is so large that I am suspended off the ground. The doctors hook my beach-ball-sized breasts up to a milking machine. Now I produced on both ends: a steady supply of milk and babies.

My life slowly melts into a haze of constant milking and birthing. I churn out a new set of babies once every few weeks, but it’s never enough to counter the steady stream of fertilizations. Everything blurs together, except one thing. Sometimes, just for the sick thrill of it, I turn my head as far back as I can, to catch a glimpse of myself in the room’s solitary mirror. Every time I look, I take in my helplessly hanging legs, my grotesquely swollen belly, and my ballooned, milky tits, and I can tell I’m just a little bit larger than I was the last time I checked.

Sometimes I fantasize that the sperm from that fateful hookup might finally run out, but I knew deep down that the hundreds of babies— thousands, maybe— that had been sired within me had used only the smallest fraction of the seed buried inside my womb.

[taluscite]

ohhh to be kept as a cute little breeding fox for a lovely werewolf couple- they can't produce babies themselves, so they found themselves a cute little fox who will gladly give them as many as they want!

I'd love to be pampered and treated so sweetly throughout my pregnancies, though they'd insist on an at-home, completely natural birth with no one but them. I'd be perfectly fine with that! Sure, foxes are a little small to be having werewolf pups, but i surely can handle it!

There has to be at least 8 or 9 little pups in there, making the last few months especially difficult on me as they become more and more active. They don't want to intervene whatsoever, so I quickly become overdue, my belly slowly swelling more by the day and the pressure on my pelvis increasingly immensely from the weight of all those big pups.

Eventually, my water breaks and I'm hit with painful contractions that absolutely wreck my body. They make sure I'm all comfy in my nest, surrounded by soft, comfortable blankets and pillows so I can be at least a little more comfortable amidst the pain I'm in.

They check my cervix every 20 minutes, feeling it slowly expand to make way for their incoming children. By the time I'm dilated to 10cm, I'm thrashing and wailing in pain, unable to find a comfortable position, but they eventually wrangle me and hold me down, legs spread uncomfortably wide on my back.

"Push, little one." The male, the one who bred me and made me like this, instructs, and soon I'm pushing. Hard. I think I might be screaming? But I'm not quite sure as white hot pain surges through me, the first pup barreling through my poor little body.

They watch happily as the pup slowly makes my entrance bulge, expanding outward as it stretches around the large head. The skin turns almost translucent from how wide its forced to stretch. It takes me a few tries to get the head to stay in place, not reversing my progress the second I stop pushing.

I cry my way through the pain of crowning, the feeling of my entrance burning and stretching around the widest part of the head. About 20 minutes later, the head finally bursts out, making me wail in relief, though I'm not out of the woods yet. I still have to birth the shoulders.

It takes me a while, but soon the pup is sliding out of me, and is brought to my tit to suckle. I can't rest though, as I feel another pup barrel its way down. There was 9 of them after all!

It takes a few days of labor for all 9 to emerge, and by the end, I am exhausted and in so much pain. My entrance feels raw, stretched from the exertion of birthing 9 little werewolf pups, who were all quite active and noisy.

The werewolf couple practically begged me to have another litter for them, as I was such a good breeder, producing a huge litter of strong, healthy pups for them. And who am I to say no? They treat me so well, and I couldn't help but envision giving birth again, maybe next time to even more pups. I wanted to be immobile my next pregnancy.

I'd be the perfect breeder for them <3

[boytumms]

Commission for @//stevestopscars on twitter!!

[boytumms]

We simply DO NOT have enough watermelon / melon preg situations (plus i just ate so mich watermelon 🍉)

But poor boy who doesnt know all the seeds hes been eat and water hes drinking have slowly gestating a little watermelon plant in his gut not knowing why hes feeling fuller maybe thinking its a baby but the scans show a whole melon in there

Or maybe for a weird fun night he gets inseminated with it and has a the plant growing in his poor womb and keeps growing and growing until he feels some strange cramps and ends up pushing quite literally a watermelon out

Idk just more watermelon bellys would be nice

There's this one fic thats sooo so good abt watermelon preg, but ur right I don't actually see it very often which is surprising now that I think about it. I've written/drawn something similar a few times tho, with pumpkins instead of watermelons around Halloween :)

fr though, watermelons can get absolutely massive, and super heavy too, if you've ever seen those really big long watermelons at the store, imagine some poor boy with one of those in his belly. They're like two feet long and one foot wide, and can get up to 25 pounds, it would give him such a massive torpedo shaped belly. Carrying around a huge 25 pound melon would be hard, but pushing it out would be unimaginable. His body struggles to stretch around it's foot wide girth but then has to stay that wide as he desperately tries to push out two feet in length. He's screaming and crying as it slowly slips out, begging for someone to just pull it out of him, but its so huge no amount of pushing or pulling will make it come out any faster. All he can do is clutch his trembling thighs and try to spread himself wider to let the massive melon pass through, but despite pushing with all his strength, it takes hours to force even an inch of it out, and he's barely made it through the first foot...

This is the fic btw, definitely one of my faves!

[boytumms]

ohmygosh that watermelon one made me think of a whole field of boys filled to the brim with watermelons

But still on the vines tho (because obviously they grow bigger and better when incubated inside a fertile boy) and all of them are miserably watching there bellies grow all different shapes and sizes until its time to harvest and birth the melons and watching their bellies tense up and contract around these prize winning fruits that the farmer just absolutely dotes over and they have to push but not push out like a normal birth since theyre still on the vine they have to push away or even up from the vine to make progress and the farmer taking such good care of his crop holds the boy up into a squat like those partners that hold the birther up into those gravity birth positions

Anywho i totally agree that there isnt a lot of watermelon writing or art, so thank you, its very…refreshing 🤣🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

ohhh I can imagine them bound to those garden arches people use for vines, strung up with their bellies dangling heavily below them...

They could be held up in a net, or if you're not so nice, you tie them up with no support for their massive, swelling tummies, letting them feel the full weight of the giant melon growing inside them. When the melons are ripe and its time to give birth, they have to fight gravity and push the melons upwards to get them out.

Their bodies are positioned in a way where their huge bellies press up towards their chest and the vine connecting them pulls their back end higher, making it near impossible to push out such a heavy object. They thrash and scream for the farmer to cut them down, bellies swaying back and forth as they push uselessly against gravity, but without the farmers help, none of them can make any progress.

They're at the complete mercy of their farmer, waiting for hours as they labor in hopes he will decide their bellies are ripe enough to pick. Eventually each one is harvested, cut from the arch and left on the ground to writhe and scream and push the huge 15 pound fruit out of their straining tummy.

The farmer cut most of them down, but a handful of unlucky boys are left to continue growing, the ones with the largest fruit filled bellies are picked for competitions. They'll beg and cry and scream for the farmer to let them give birth, their bellies are already so overgrown to bursting, but he knows they can get even bigger. They're left to swell for several more weeks until the melons nearly double in size, weighing over 40 pounds and stretching them until their tummies are translucent. Their finally ready to show off at the competition, where they'll still have to give birth to their massive, oversized fruits.

[preggoliciouslyround]

knotting you through labor. rocking you back and forth, fucking you gently to turn your moans of pain into pleasure. kissing and mouthing at your heavy, leaking tits. hands roaming your stomach, full of pups, writhing under my caresses. and when you get needy, fucking into you like you’re the animal you are, hard and fast, pulling back far enough with each thrust for my knot to stretch your opening more than the last time. but not hastily. your body needs to stretch adequately not to tear. so i grind against your hole and kiss you through the moments of rest between contractions. then a surge of energy starts, and your stomach convulses and tightens, moans falling out of your mouth like music. i pull back farther, my knot stretching your cunt deliciously.

“good job, love,” i whisper just above your ear. “i can feel you pushing, you’re doing so well.” i pet you and stroke along your skin as the contraction ebbs. you nod into the crook of my neck, a soft whimper bubbling up on your lips.

“so much pressure,” you whine. “fuck, sir, i can feel them moving in me.”

“good,” i say. “i can feel your body, baby. time to push again.”

a high noise crests out of you as your body begins to push involuntarily, and hard. i take it as my cue to pin you down on our bed, thrusting my fat knot in your cunt. hard breaths bounce out of you as you writhe and push against me. then there’s a large pop!, and warm amniotic fluid gushes out past my knot as you cry out, pushing with all your might. i fuck in and out of you again, more of your waters leaking out of you with the motion.

“good girl,” i breathe. “i can feel your next contraction starting, my love.” you nod shakily. i pull back from you, stretching your hole again to the point that my knot is practically crowning.

“oh, fuck, sir, please!” you moan. “fuck, it burns, the pup is coming!”

“then push,” i say, eyes locked with yours. your body obeys, convulsing the hardest it has yet.

“fuuuuuuckkaahh,,” you breathe, exhaling long and focused as you push with your body. your breaths mount and careen as finally, you push my knot past its crest and out of your cunt, the rest of my cock following.

“yes, good girl, good dog, just like that,” i say into your neck, mouthing at the soft, sensitive place just above your collarbone while i finger and twist each of your puffy, sore nipples. “breathe deep and push for me.”

you do, and the head of our first pup descends through your sore cunt quickly. you breathe again and bear down, and with a hard exhale the head pops free.

“fuck, sir, thank you,” you slur, drunk on hormones and the mix of pleasure and pain. the pup’s body squirms in your birth canal, its born head rotating, the top of its shoulders beginning to emerge as your body softly pushes, then settles to rest for a moment.

“you’re doing so well, my love. the first pup is almost here.” i run my hands over your full belly. it begins to tighten again, and you breathe in sharply, a wince spreading on your face as pain mounts again.

“i can’t do it, fuck, i can’t!” you shake your head, the reality of what’s happening suddenly crashing down on you all at once.

“you have to, baby,” i say. “i know it hurts, but you have to push.”

a cry starts low in your chest and rises, loud, as you bear down again. “hooo—aaauuuhhhh!!!!” the pup’s first arm pops out of you. its second follows shortly with another gush of liquid. you breathe in sharply, with another short moment of rest. “hello, little darling,” you whisper to our firstborn. though not yet full born, the pup’s tiny muzzle opens with its first breath, hiccuping softly then opening its mouth, nose snuffling the outside world for the first time.

“oh,” you breathe softly, arms reaching down around your gravid form to cup the pup’s upper body. “come along now.” your body pushes again softly and you birth our first pup, wailing properly now. i pick up the pup and place her on your full chest. she latches and begins feeding, suckling eagerly.

“she’s beautiful,” i whisper, in awe of what has occurred, what continues to go on as your face scrunches with a new wave of pain mounting in your taut abdomen.

“fuck, sir,” you moan. “the next one, alre—aaAUUGHH!!” your body pushes again, hard, and the next pup shoots through your cervix without pause.

"yes, puppy, push!" i urge, helping you spread your legs out and up in the air to make room. your cunt starts to bulge out once more, and i run my finger just under the edge of your hole, stretched around the second pup. you moan, your clit swollen and throbbing from the pressure against it.

"please, oh fuck," you whine, trying to push but making less progress as the contraction ends.

"please who, my love?" i say, gripping your hard clit and tugging on it with the question.

"motherfUCK, i mean, fuck, sir, pleeeease," you moan, writhing your hips around as the pup thrashes within you.

"good dog," i breathe over your nipple, licking over it after. your whole body shudders, the pup moving downward with the motion. the three last pups wait impatiently in your womb, distending your stomach with harsh kicks and tumbling around in the space newly freed up by their littermates.

"oh," i say, as your cunt starts to part into a teardrop shape around the body of our second pup. "you better get ready, my love. this one is breech."

[tumadmirer]

Supernatural/fantasy pregnancies have really been stuck in my brain lately, so I'm gonna write my train of thoughts on that.

I love a good fantasy story, full of magic and whimsy and escapism from the normalcy of life. You know what makes it even better? BIG FUCKIN' TUMMY!

An alchemist, down on their luck, decides the smartest thing to do is get knocked up by a magical creature for potion ingredients. Turns out that dragon jizz makes for a really good stamina potion. Luckily, they've got a constant supply of it now. And a belly full of eggs, which their new dragon mate loves to nuzzle and lick.

Elves and Dwarves live for a heck of a long time. Consequently, their pregnancies also last a while. Shortstack Dwarves flaunt their baby-filled bellies for several years, growing steadily as they prepare for birth. Elves, graceful and lithe, are stuck waddling with a heavy bump for even longer. Yet they wear outfits that show off their tummies, worshipped for being fertile and healthy.

A succubus gets summoned and makes a deal with some wizard that wants power. So she births him an army, turning into a baby machine. They end up falling in love and raise their kids together, getting into domestic hijinks. There's barely any moments where the demon's tummy is flat anymore, since they're pact-bound to breed almost nonstop. Good thing magic makes life a lot easier for a woman who has big demon babies, always kicking and making her hormones rampant.

A werewolf pregnancy where the carrier can get by on most days. But when the full moon is out, their belly goes from normal-sized to looking ready to burst with triplets. The baby gets more rambunctious, wriggling like it wants out. The parent-to-be also gets cravings for dark meats and carbs aplenty, lending to the child's excessive growth. Hopefully, they give birth before the next full moon.

A fertility deity chooses a mortal champion, unwittingly impregnating them. The newfound divine-chosen being is shocked to immaculately find themself pregnant. They always wanted a child, so it's no problem. It's only a problem when they keep making babies. The attention to their condition has earned them a holy status, where they're worshipped fervently. Foot rubs, oils for their always-taut bump, fresh fruits to snack on, gorgeous clothes that tailor their growing body.

A shape-shifter/Changeling gets knocked up and thinks they can just turn into a male to avoid having a big bump to carry around. Turns out it doesn't work that way. They get a lot of stares when they get stuck like that for a while. It's especially challenging when they go into labor without the proper equipment to push out their baby.

A dungeon has had a bad reputation, but the treasure within is worth the danger. Except that treasure is cursed to make the person who takes it give birth until they've had as many babies as the value of its horde. One unlucky adventurer finds out too late and their belly suddenly surges forward as they instantly go into labor. The pregnancies are rapidly occurring in succession, and they churn out spawn after spawn, as the value of the treasure was thousands of gold.

Goblins are starting to dwindle in population, so they end up having a large breeding season to offset their losses. Some travelers come across a tribe who are particularly prolific. They've been given a pass to document the situation, observing several goblins carrying hefty litters that kick constantly. They might even get invited to some orgies if they play nice.

...Maybe I am a weird nerd. I could talk about this stuff for a while.

If anyone has other fun ideas, I'd love to hear them.

[incubatorprincess]

what if... egg pregnancy that takes a while to actually start growing. you have an encounter with some kind of monster, and during the process they end up laying their eggs inside of you, but they're so small and it all feels so good you don't even think about it. some weeks pass, you're back home, cleaned yourself up after your little escapade- only for your belly to suddenly start rapidly swelling. you pant and moan as your belly grows, going from completely flat to full term in no time at all. the growth stops by the time you look overdue, and you try to catch your breath, only to be overcome with a strange sensation in your stomach and the feeling of something slipping down

[bumpsandpushes]

i’ve been turned on all day at the thought of having a partner cupping the baby’s head as it comes out. i’d be on my knees with my arms around their shoulders or i’d be leaning back against them as they helped me sit upright and they would gently reach down and feel the baby’s head come out. even if i wanted to push so badly, they’d tell me to slow down and breathe to make sure i didn’t rip anything. gentle reassurance as they provide counterpressure around the head, feeling it come out inch by inch into their waiting hands. fuck.