Puffy pussy lips framing the crotch of your panties, fluid dribbling from your cunt steadily as the baby descends, parting your birth canal, splitting you open from within
TRANSITION. we all love the pushing phase but its the part right before it that actually gets most people. for those unfamiliar, this is the final part of the first stage of labor, when the cervix opens the last couple centimeters, and this is generally regarded as by far the most painful part of childbirth. this is the part that breaks people, makes them beg for painkillers even when they swore off of them, makes them scream in agony, makes them lose any sense of rational thought. the sadist's delight :>
the fact that the urge to push is completely physically overwhelming. it's not just an urge. it literally takes over peoples bodies. you cannot resist.
the fact that sometimes the urge to push comes early. people often feel the urge to push before they're fully dilated, and they have to resist, or at least try to stave it off as long as possible, and it's torture. I read an account once of someone screaming in childbirth, not from pain but from the torture of not pushing. does things to me man
the sheer body horror of childbirth, especially crowning and the fact that the head comes out first. like... a poor, scared little thing, screaming and pushing out a baby they don't want, and then they look down and a head is hanging out of them?
the fact that sometimes people have to reach in to help get the baby out and it's just as horrifically painful as it sounds <3
you're so right about all of these. these are the ACTUALLY underrated aspects. i should post more about these things...
Heavily pregnant girl so stuffed and ready to give birth masturbating and fucking herself into labor and being plugged up cunt to womb unable to even push into her birth canal and forced to her feet to waddle around helplessly while begging to be allowed to give birth or at least stop walking and lie down
pregnant girl who loves the idea of being pregnant for longer so she prolongs labor, has her wife push the baby back inside when she can't help but push, plugs her pussy up so the baby can't come out and so on. Then a few weeks later when she is ready to give birth, she realizes she made a mistake because the baby turned into a bad position and is now coming out feet first and sunny side up. She cries for her wife to take her to the hospital or pull the baby out but her wife just watches her struggle and says "I told you not to put off giving birth for this long."
she did it to herself really. if she wanted an easy or manageable birth then she shouldn't have done that. she doesn't deserve help.
mercilessly fingering you during labor and mockingly encouraging you to push as if i dont know full well that my hand is in the way preventing it from coming out
One of my favorite things about birth is just the utter lack of control.
You can't control when the contractions begin, right in the middle of a terrible thunderstorm that's knocked out the power and the phone lines.
You can't control when they jump from fifteen to nine to seven to five minutes in an hour, the baby sinking lower and lower in your pelvis as you waddle your way around the house in candlelight.
You can't control when a contraction overtakes you right in the entryway to your house, causing you to grip desperately at the console table by the door and spread your legs wide, you're water breaking as you arch your back at the the release of pressure.
You can't control the grunts and gasps leaving your mouth as you waddle to your bedroom, urgently grabbing the phone only to let it clatter to the ground when a new contraction takes hold while the clear static of a dead line comes from the phone.
You can't control the way your belly drops over your lap, the baby sliding down inside you and making its way through your hips. It's coming fast. You had to be close to going into transition, and you had no way to contact anyone for help.
You can't control dropping into a squat, your hands clutching at the bedspread as you let your legs spread wide. "Oh god, " You gasp as your back arches and your belly contacts, "Oh god, I'm pushing!"
You can't control when your body begins pushing for you, the muscles tensing as the head drops through your cervix and begins to bulge out your lips from the sheer size of the baby making it's way through you.
You can't control the noises coming out of you as your lips spread into a teardrop shape, you're hand slipping from the sheets to cup at your bulging pussy. Your hand barely covers the mass that's emerging from you, and for a moment you feel dizzy with worry about how large the head is.
You can't control when the next contraction comes and you have to arch your back again, bearing down on the huge head as the teardrop shape opens even more into a wide, perfect O as the baby slides forward.
You can't control the fluids dripping and squiring out of you, spraying out around the head as you push harder and harder to get the baby out of you.
You can't control the visceral urge to narrate everything happening to you despite the fact that you're alone. "I- I'm stretching!" You cry as more of the head pushes into your hand, "Stretching so much! This baby is so big!" "Mhhh oh god, it's coming out!" You groan, your hand cupping the head as you birth it by the side of your bed, "It's coming out, its coming out of me!" "I'm crowning!" You can't help but scream when the head bursts into a full crown, filling your palm with its incredible weight, "Ooohhhhh I'm pushing it out! I'm giving birth right now!"
You can't control how you squat even lower as the baby's face begins to emerge, the eyebrows popping free with a gush of fluids. The rest of the face requires a bit more effort, the nose stretching you so thin you can feel it tugging behind your poor, abused clit. You rock your hips up and down, trying desperately to force the baby from you as if you're going to dribble it out like a basketball.
You can't control the cry of relief to let out when the head bursts free. "It's head is outtttt--" You moan as your pussy flutters for a brief second after being held open so wide for so long. Your legs shake, threatening to give out a you check for the cord.
You can't control the sound that you make when you look over your shoulder and see your reflection in the mirror. The way your legs are spread, thighs open wide and resting close to the ground as the baby's head hangs so heavily from your stretched pussy.
You can't control the desperate urge to just lay down and birth your baby, so you give in. One hand cradling the head to keep it from being jostled, you lay down on your side, letting the hand that was holding the head now grip behind your knee, hooking your thigh open as the head rotate and the shoulders slot into place.
You can't control the way the shoulders get stuck for a brief second. You push wildly, your thighs trembling and your belly squeezing and your pussy working hard to expel the huge baby inside of you. "Ohhhhh-- Come on baby, " You gasp ruggedly as you throw your head back, pushing hard and clenching your teeth, "Come on, you're so close, I can feel you!" And you certainly can feel the way the shoulders bulge against your hole, stretching you so thin you think for a moment you may tear.
You can't control the gutteral moan that leaves your mouth as you pull your leg up and open, one hand clutching at your huge, contracting belly and the other holding your leg open at the ankle. Your hips stretch do wide you think they may break, but you can't do much about it as the shoulders begin to open you up and you babble nonsense. 'My pussy!" You cry as one shoulder pops through, more fluid splashing out of you as your belly heaves, "Ughhhhh, I'm giving birth-- I'm pushing it out, oh fuck, it's coming out of me!" The second shoulder pushes free to, the rest of the baby coming out with a sick gush onto the floor beneath your sites thighs.
And you certainly can't control when you're water breaks for a second time as you try to catch your breath, a familiar weight dropping through your cervix as your huge stomach contracts again and your first baby begins to wail between your legs.
Deertaurs are pregnant for seven months. Draft centaurs are pregnant for a year.
I was only supposed to be pregnant for seven months. It’s been 11 months and 23 days, and I’ve been screaming through labor for two of those days. I’ve been pushing for five hours, trying to foal my fawn-foal twins. They’re each over half my weight.
It hurts.
“The front hooves are staying outside of you now,” my partner says, his hands on my haunches. “They’re cloven, you know. Just like yours.” I feel him pat me. “But they have my white socks.”
“And your hoof size,” I gasp.
“Well…yes.”
I know he feels guilty. He’s the one who knocked me up and put me in this much pain. But I’m the one who didn’t want to abort, even at the fifth month when we could plainly see on the ultrasounds that they weren’t even halfway ready. Seven previous pregnancies, six by another deertaur, one by a satyr, easy pregnancies, easy deliveries. I was bored. This birth was my chance to feel an unimaginable stretch, even though I knew it would also come with unimaginable pain.
“Can—can you get to the ankles yet?” I stammer. My legs are quaking, but this standing position has been the only one that helped move this first foal.
“Yes, I think so.”
I feel his hands in my pussy, trying to get a grip around our foal’s legs. I moan at the sensation—pain, stimulation—and I take a step back into his hands chasing the feeling.
My partner growls, “I’m busy. You can’t possibly want that now.”
“It might help,” I protest. “It helped me foal in the past. I came most of them out.”
“Later,” he says. “When you’re crowning.” His hands still and I feel an experimental tug. “I’ve got it. Tell me when you have a contraction.”
I take a deep, steadying breath and look back over my shoulder at my partner. He’s bent low at his waist just to reach my pussy. We lock eyes and he nods.
I turn and grip the knotted sheet we have thrown over one of the rafters in the living room, bracing myself. A few moments more and a contraction begins to mount, bringing with it a desperate instinct. My triangular white tail raises high and I bear down.
“I’m pushing!” I cry.
My partner digs in his hooves and pulls.
Agony sears throw my belly and hips. I throw back my head, and a sound comes from my throat that I never knew I was capable of. A bleating scream, filled with panic and pain.
My partner lets up immediately. “Oh my god—baby?”
“It hurts so bad!” I shriek. Even though he’s let up the tension, I still feel a stretch like I’ve never felt before—the stretch I’d always wanted. “Oh god! Oh god! It’s working! I’m crowning!”
“No baby,” he says, his voice high with stress. “It’s still the legs. I can’t see the head.”
“No!” I wail, and my legs buckle. My partner drops the foal’s feet and they slam into my backside, pulling me towards the ground. My partner barely catches me. His arms wrap around my torso and pull me into his abdomen—about as high as my head reaches on him.
The legs dangle out of me as I grip my partner’s midsection, breathing heavily. I hear a noise, feel a vibration in my feet as the foal’s legs sway behind me.
“Oh god—oh god! Are the hooves touching the floor?” I try to twist around to look, but it’s an impossible view behind my oversized belly barreling out around me.
“Yes,” my husband says, barely above a whisper.
“And the head isn’t showing?!”
“Barely,” he says. “I saw hair.”
I bury my face in my partner’s belly and allow myself one little sob. Then I pull away and grab onto the hanging sheet with renewed determination.
“If the legs are mostly out,” I say. “Then it’s working.” I look up at him with what I hope is a fiery spark in my eye. “Go back there and pull, and don’t stop until my contraction lets up. No matter how much I’m screaming.”
“Baby…” he says.
“It has to come out,” I say. “They both have to come out. There’s no ending this until they’re out.”
He still hesitated.
“Go!” I say, and point urgently.
He trots around behind me again, and I feel the legs change position as he picks them back up.
“I’m ready. Tell me when.”
I wait for the next one, breathing evenly. A little tingle of fear crawls up the back of my spine, anticipating the return of the most intense birthing pain I’ve ever experienced. I’m wet. I’m wet with birthing fluids and somehow, in spite of it all, wet with arousal. A contraction begins to seep through my body. I raise my tail.
“Now—now!” I shout, and lean heavily on the birthing sheet, and push.
He pulls.
I hope I can feel movement, but I don’t know. My brain is graying out with pain and pressure.
“I have to,” he says. “You’re about to reach the widest point. You have to stretch!”
I push fruitlessly—there’s nothing I can do without his help. “No…no…” I moan. I roll my hips. “Please, I need you. I can cum out the head on the next contraction. Please! You promised!”
He snorts. “I can’t believe it—you’re hard. This head is as big as yours and you’re hard.”
I look over my shoulder. “Please…”
He shifts the foal’s legs to one hand and reaches for me. I shiver as his thumbnail zings down the length of my tdick.
“Yes,” I moan.
He circles the base of my tdick with his thumb and I press back into it, with the rest of my pussy stretched taut in a crown. I wonder if he’s right. I wonder if my foal’s head is as big as mine. But the thought fades into a haze of pleasure and pain as he works on me. I tug hard on the hanging sheet as my tail twitches and I get closer to orgasm.
I can’t see and can barely imagine how he manages, but he begins pulling on the legs with one hand while his other hand strokes me.
“Push, baby. Push!”
“It hurts!”
“I know, but push!”
I tuck in my chin and haul on the sheet and push. Blood rushes in my ears and I know I’m fading, the only thing keeping me grounded is my partner’s touch, inching me closer to—
I scream and cum.
The pressure in my pussy vanishes—or, at least it suddenly lessens. My hips buck as I ride my orgasm, and my partner keeps stroking me through the shocks until they fade and I’m left shaking and twitching.
“The head is out,” my partner says.
“I crowned,” I whimper. “I crowned.”
“There’s a lot of hair,” he says, and I can hear his smile. I laugh breathlessly.
“How big is the head?” I ask.
He pats my haunches. “Big.”
“Come here,” I say, and I can feel myself swaying.
He comes around and I let go of the sheet and wrap my arms as far around his middle as they’ll go.
“Let me push out the rest on my own,” I say. “The worst is over. Just hold me—let me foal in your arms.”
He holds me tight.
I push on the next contraction. Not much happens, but the first set of shoulders doesn’t feel stuck—just big. I push through the next several contractions. A few times I whimper softy, “It hurts.” He rubs my back each time, gazing over me at my upright tail while I push on his foal.
Finally I sense a shift. “The first shoulders are coming,” I gasp, and push. One shoulder pops out and I moan. “Almost!” I push again and the second shoulder jerks out of me.
“I see it,” my partner says. “Push and get the upper body out.”
I push and feel the torso slide steadily out of me until it stops at the second shoulders.
“Good,” he says. “It’s half out.”
“I’m half done with the first twin,” I say, a perhaps sardonic tone in my voice. I feel his arms tighten around me.
“Yes,” he says.
Ah, there’s his guilt again. He’d better get over it before the end of my next pregnancy by him. I could never go back to normal-sized deertaur fawns after this.
“Pushing,” I groan. The second shoulders, the foal-fawn hybrid shoulders, begin to stretch me out again. “Ow…” I shift my hooves. “I need to lay down. I’m so tired.”
He helps me lay my massive deer belly down on my side and kneels beside me, supporting my torso upright in his arms. At this angle I can finally see the fawn coming out of me. Hair, so much hair on that head. Cloven hooves, his white socks on the front legs. It stirs slightly in the puddle of birth fluids that have accumulated on the floor. Good—it will be strong. But it’s so big. As I take in the size of my fawn, my foal, I can barely believe that I squeezed any of it out of my body—but it’s still half in me. That’s my proof. Proof that I’m really giving birth to this massive taur.
“It’s coming out of me,” I say. I think I’m a little stunned.
My partner takes my hands and squeezes them. “Push when you’re ready.”
I nod and lean my head back against his chest. “I need to push,” I say after a moment. “I need to push—I’m pushing!”
As much as I want to squeeze my eyes shut against the pain, I also want to see this. I push. I strain against this fawn, grunting and moaning at the back of my throat. My grip on my partner’s hands must be painful, but he bears it. I definitely have it worse right now.
The second set of shoulders erupts out of me, and I yelp with the release of pressure. Fluids gush around the lower body, but it’s still partially in me.
“Do you want me to pull it out?” my partner asks.
“No,” I moan. “I can do it. Let me foal like this.” I squeeze his hands and push.
The rest of the body spills out of me, and with an instinctual kick of its back legs that makes me groan, I fully foal onto the floor of our living room.
I sag in my partner’s arms. “Oh my god,” I pant. “I did it. I foaled. It’s out! Oh my god, it came out of me, I got it out!”
My partner kisses me with a fierce tenderness.
“You pushed out my foal,” he says, his voice ragged. “I’ve been so scared you wouldn’t get it out.”
“Get the fawn,” I say. He gathers pillows and cushions from the couch in a single hand and props me up, and retrieves the foal in his big arms. Honestly, it doesn’t look so big when he’s holding it.
“I see the next set of hooves,” he says while he’s around by my tail. “They’re cloven too. Push, baby.”
“I’m so tired,” I say, my upper body quaking against the pile of pillows.
“I know, baby,” he says. “I didn’t mean to put two in you. It’s almost over, you just have to get this one out.”
I push half-heartedly, but I’m surprised when I feel the hooves begin to emerge. “It’s coming already,” I gasp.
“You’re very stretched out,” my partner admits.
I push harder and see the tips of the cloven hooves between my legs. “Oh! It’s coming!” I reach for my partner. “Hold me! Hold me! I need to foal again!”
He shuffles back up to me, juggling our newborn fawn in one arm while he wraps the other around my shoulders and holds my hand. I grip his wrist with my other hand and squeeze hard.
“It’s coming—it’s! It’s..! Oh god!” I give in to the overwhelming urge to push, and my second foal’s legs slide out of me. And out of me. And continue stretching out between my legs, growing thicker as the head and shoulders approach. “Ohhhh it hurts. It hurts! Hold me! Oh god!”
I bear down, my half-empty belly tight and hard. My pussy begins to bulge, and open, and I see hair. I didn’t get to see myself crown the first time.
“It’s huge!” I scream. “Oh god—I have to crown! I…I…I’m crowning! Hold me! I’m crowningggggg.”
My pussy opens and stretches tight over the head, growing wider and wider as I push. The ring of fire burns through me as I watch.
“Push!” my partner says. “Push hard!”
“Oh god! It’s coming out! Aaaughhhhhhh—“ The head reaches its full crown, stretching me obscenely. I hold the pressure, moaning through the agony. Almost, almost…
The head pops free and I scream at the release.
“Oh! Ohhhh that hurt so bad!” I cry, my back legs shaking. I’m glad I’m already lying down. The head between my legs is equally as big as the first foal.
“Can you get the first shoulders? Or do you want me to pull?”
“I can do it,” I whimper. “Don’t help me.” The next contraction washes over me and I push, eyes fixed on my oncoming foal. I stretch around the shoulders, and it’s painful, but the head was worse. One shoulder. Two shoulders. I fall back against my partner, panting. I pant through the next contraction and am rewarded when the foal begins inching forward on its own. So I pant. My partner holds me tight and I pant his foal’s upper torso out slowly over the next twenty minutes. I pant a little longer, but I know what I have to do.
“I need to push.”
“Second shoulders?”
I nod wordlessly and shift slightly, trying to get comfortable. But that’s impossible with a foal half-born out of my body. I finally collapse back against my partner’s chest and just push.
“Oh…ohhhh,” I moan. “This is it. I’m about to foal. It’s coming, it’s coming! Oh my god, it hurts so bad! OhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!”
The second shoulders lurch out of me, and with a rush of fluids the rest of my fawn is born on the floor where its twin just came out.
“Yes!” I shriek. “Oh, fuck! I did it! Oh my god—they’re out!”
My partner cleans the foals and helps me into the shower, where I labor on the placenta. It’s painful—I’m raw, and the placenta is nearly the size of any given fawn from my previous pregnancies. My partner holds my hand tight during my final moments of pushing and screaming until I give birth to it.
As my contractions fade away, I begin to scheme about how soon I can get my partner to breed me again. I want to be pushing out a new foal when these two are barely yearlings.
Wendy had always been a size queen as long as she could remember. She loved the sensation of wonderfully round objects filling up her holes. She loved teasing the tips of them around her labia before pressing the object with firm desire on her opening. At first her vagina would yield, digging slightly into her pelvis before any stretching would start at all.
She could get acquainted with the temperature. Cold objects ran shivers down her entire body often making her more sensitive. Then… A slip. She would gasp from deep within her chest as the cold cylinder would slip inside of her, her eyes would roll into the back of her head as she tried to hang on to consciousness, Wendy’s head a fuzzy mess from the pleasure. She would rather be stuffed with something warm, feeling it burn up the insides of her pussy as she stretched and strained to warm up her belly.
With her legs spread she would push out toys all night, as hours went on she would increase the size of them as the night would go on to shameful sizes. Each toy would only edge her until the largest she could take would make her black but in an orgasm.
It was a sensation she was long robbed of for the majority of her pregnancy. From the safe period, to moving into her new apartment, nausea and aches she rarely found time to masturbate as she once did. Wendy was at least 9 months removed from her last size play.
One of her favorite parts was staring at herself while she carried around the toy. A mirror facing the foot of her bed, she would take a long, hard look at her body. Her toy would bulge impressively, pushing out her skin to the outside, she would often poke the bottom of her pelvis to move it under her skin, biting her lip in pure bliss.
This morning her full term pregnant belly gave her a reminder of what a sight she truly was. She stared at herself in the mirror completely naked as her morning routine typically went. Wendy sat on her knees with a pillow between her thighs. Her right hand was occupied by a wanded vibrator on its highest setting, bouncing frantically on her pillow.
“Unf… Aah… Yes… Yes....” Wendy mumbled, staring at herself in the mirror. She was ginormous, with her belly occupying her body. At this stage of her pregnancy her belly hung low, beginning to imitate the feeling of the toys she was getting ready to push out.
“Ooh… Fuck… Yesss” She moaned, getting her other hand to rub her belly. As she got to her climax she drew her fingers around her stretch marks, the scars that she could only wish her toys would leave on her.
“Mmmmmm…” She groaned with her teeth clenched. Wendy pressed her fingers into her belly, trying to feel her baby through her tightly stretched skin.
“Ffuck!! Cum!!! Cumming!!!!” Wendy leaned her body forward into the orgasm grinding on her pillow to dig the nice, smooth silicone head of her vibrator over her puffed sensitive lips.
The orgasm made her heart race, gave her a full body sensation and a tingle and made her breathe through her mouth. A braxton hicks contraction came over her belly. “Ahhhhh…. Ohhhhhh.” She moaned as it all came to an end.
As was the case for most days, Wendy wasn’t satisfied. She rode her pillow as compensation for not currently having a man, and having a man was rehab for stuffing herself full of huge toys during her pregnancy.
Suddenly, something inside of her gave in. Wendy rolled off from her bed and waddled over to her kitchen. She returned with her hands full of various foodstuffs of all shapes and sizes. Eager and not wanting to let herself come to her senses, she lay all of the groceries on the floor along with her designated humping pillow and her wand.
Wendy had to lift her belly up to see her pussy in the mirror. Panting, she licked her fingers and spread herself wide. It appeared her lips had gotten fatter since she last tried stuffing.
With her lips held open, she sucked the wide section of an uncooked chicken egg and began to insert it into her vagina. Wendy stared as the white egg began to become enveloped in her outer lips before feeling it inside of her. And then, she felt herself stretch.
Even a relatively small item like an egg forced Wendy to cover her mouth with the sensation. It was the first tie in months she had been penetrated with anything but her fingers. And just like that, none of the white shell was anywhere to be seen inside of her.
She tried to find the egg on the surface of her vagina, but all she grabbed was the base of her pregnant belly. Wendy’s muscle memory began to kick in.
She spread her legs out before the mirror, holding them apart by her knees as she began to push. “Ooo…” She groaned as she mustered up the force inside of her.
Pushing as she once did, she could feel the egg start to descend down her vagina into her opening. A little bit of the white tip of the egg began to slightly peek out from inside of her.
“Haa. Haa. OO!” She gasped as the widest part of the egg shot from the force of her pushing. It missed the protective pillow and popped comically from her pussy onto the carpet in front of her, covered in her viscous juices. In response, her baby gave it’s mother a couple kicks from inside of the womb, feeding Wendy’s desires further to rub her expanded belly in response
Her face was red like masturbation hadn’t done to her in so long, her head began to tingle, her whole body going back into remission over the sensation of bulging once more.
She missed the feeling of being penetrated deeply, and she thought the egg had potential to go much deeper.
Wendy’s second item was a banana wrapped in a plastic bag, making sure none of the woody ends would stretch her up on the inside. For her own reference, she held the banana up to her hip level and measured it against her torso. From her hips to the tip, the fruit measured all the way to her popped belly button. For what it was, at least her big, pregnant belly had already dropped for labor.
She got on her knees for this one, aligning the banana behind her she brought her increased full weight down onto the banana. Stretching her vagina open more in it’s deepest than it had ever been she couldn't help but to roll her eyes and bite her lip, grabbing a hold of her milk filled breasts as if she was riding a real cock.
Up from the pillow the stem of the banana stuck out like a handle from under Wendy. With a loose grip on the stem she began to feed it deeper into her vagina until it rang like a doorbell on her dropped cervix. “Hnnnghh.. OOOhhhhh!” She moaned with her eyes crossed as her baby was tussled beneath her skin.
Her body was more reluctant to release the banana, Wendy’s hands fought the suction of her pussy. It left with an audible pop from her pussy.
For the biggest object she had taken with her, it shared a name with her belly button that poked out. A navel orange was taken straight out of the fridge and sat by her thighs as she pushed out the banana. Staring at the cold, porous surface with the navel to poke inside, her body began to tremble in anticipation.
Lifting her belly and spreading her lips again, it took both hands to apply constant pressure into her puffy pussy lips. Her fingers fed the orange into her vagina slowly and she could feel herself getting stretched. Looking into the mirror the vibrant orange from the fruit began to become engulfed again, surrounded in her darkened pregnant pussy.
Her eyes began to roll to the back of her head. There was no slip, instead, the widest part of the orange stretched her vagina open all the way forcing Wendy’s legs to stay open. “AAAhn!!!” Wendy yelped. She looked at herself in the mirror, and even inside of her the large orange slightly parted her lips. She wondered if that was about 10 centimeters pushing her apart.
Wendy leaned back to the support of her bed puffing while the orange shifted inside of her. She bit her lip, planting her legs onto her carpet and began to bear down. “OOoooohhh!!!!” Wendy moaned, feeling the orange begin to stretch her apart. She saw her folds hugging the fruit.
“Mmmnfff!!!” she squealed behind closed lips, she felt her legs tremble while she continued to push down. Slowly, the sphere came into her view. Wendy grinded on her pillow, struggling to feel the orange at the base of her vagina. As it began to move down she felt the navel of the orange that shifted, it’s irregular shape and feeling driving her mad.
“Guhhh!!! OOOOOOH!” She hooked her thighs under her knees, aggressively prying her legs apart. Looking past her belly, the orange was coming to a full crown inside of her. Wendy’s heart raced. “Hoo… Hoo… HOOO!” she began to pant, her head started to get fuzzy. At the oranges widest point her lips strained and started to turn white and sore.
She scrambled to get her vibrator, and turning it to the highest setting she fumbled her wand around trying to find her clit under all of her belly in the mirror. “Come on… Come on…!” She whispered to herself in anticipation. She felt the silicon head on her most sensitive area and flipped the switch.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!”
In one click all the sensations came together packaged in a powerful orgasm. The sudden stimulus from the vibrator caused her to jolt. One deciding push purged the orange out of her vagina. The force got it to roll beside the other foodstuffs, and by the end, she threw her arms down and relaxed.
Her breaths were slow and deep out of her mouth, satisfied by finally being able to push out heavy objects once again. Sweat rolled down her forehead with her legs still wide open. A barrage of kicks pummel the top of her belly forcing a gasp out of the recovering mother.
“Sorry to startle you, I really, really needed that.” Wendy barganed, giving her belly a couple affectionate rubs. With some TLC her baby calmed down their storm inside of her glowing belly.
“Ow!” She winced under a sharp pain that seized her womb. Despite the contraction her tendencies kicked in, causing Wendy to grind her thighs together in pleasure. “Hey, stop that!” she gasped with her eyes closed, grinding out the contraction inside of her against the pillow.
Her stomach tightened again. An audible rupture was heard from outside of her body that forced Wendy’s legs apart again.
“ANNNNHHH!” She cried as a torrent of fluids spewed out of her tender pussy. Her amniotic fluids drenched everything in front of her, seeping into the pillow and the carpet even getting onto the mirror. Her water had broken
“Oh no… Don’t come yet! I just came!” she hollered trying to get to her feet to reach the phone. No longer suspended in their watery home, the baby’s weight bore down under her pelvis with her legs getting up to a squat.
“Urrrrrrghhhhhh!!!!” She moaned while her baby’s head began to force its way through their mother's cervix. Stumbling off of her feet, Wendy was on her butt again.
“O-oh?” she groaned. Another contraction slowly squeezed her midsection. In front of her eyes and a mirror her uterus began to shrink and squeeze on the baby that had grown inside of her for 9 months.
“Mmmmmmhhhaha!!!!” Wendy moaned. Her eyes shot into the back of her head through the sensation. Ever the size queen, what she was about to push was deeper than any toy she had ever inserted before.
As the contraction strained it’s hardest Wendy swore she saw the outline of her baby, the thought of the size of her child inside of her drove her mad. Suddenly her heart began to race again. Her mouth hung open.
“It feels good…” she reassured herself. Wendy spread her legs open. Still tender from the size play from earlier she was hesitant to check her dilation. Bracing herself, her middle finger slipped into her wet pussy, sending warm pleasure into the rest of her body.
“Uh, hhAH-” she bit down on the side of her arm as her fingers brushed passed her opening cervix. “Hoo… hoo... Hooo.” She blew into her forearm inspecting the fine details of her birth canal with her fingers. Her cervix was opened up slightly, and at the very center of it she felt a warm, round, hard shape lodged heavily into place. “My baby…” Wendy moaned, rubbing the top of the head with her middle finger.
“Guhh!!” She wrenched. Feeling the brunt of another contraction come quickly. The head began to slide quickly under her fingers, forcing apart the unconditioned cervix to 10 centimeters easily. “Grrrrnghhhh!!!!” Wendy groaned to the unique feeling of her cervix dilating.
Her insides tingle in euphoric pleasure, her heart raced faster and faster, out of sync with her labored breaths. The contracted ended with beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahnnnnnnnn!!!!!”
Her break was interrupted by another contraction brutalizing her belly again. While Wendy’s belly began to tighten, she placed her hands on the top of her belly. “Oof… arrngh!” She winced and panted, feeling her child’s kicks recoiling against her drum tight uterus. “I know you’re stressed baby, but work with me-OOOOOwwwwwwww!!!!”
The head began to move to the top of her birth canal, slowly opening her vagina to a weight, shape, and warmth she never felt before. “Hah… hah… hnnnnnfff!!!!” she moaned as the baby descended down her birth canal. The baby was lodged into her pelvis like a cannonball, forcing Wendy’s legs to stay open. Wendy’s hands followed the trace of her baby as it continued to move lower and lower down her pussy.
“Push… I need to push” she reminded herself. Uncomfortable in her current position, she shifted to the only position that felt right in with her huge, laboring baby bump. Wendy hooked her arms under her knees again, spreading herself wide open to view all of herself in the mirror.
“Heeee… hoo!” She took in deep breaths waiting for the next contraction to push with. Her belly started to seize up under her fingers and she felt the baby slowly start to move once more under the constricting pressure of her uterus.
“Hee hee hoo, hee hee, hooOOOOOOO!” Wendy bore down with all of her strength, propelling the baby slowly and steadily down her birth canal, filling her vagina with her baby’s entire head and shoulders. The sensation! The pleasure! A weight like nothing else spreading her apart made Wendy absolutely feral, salivating while extending her knees to bring her legs high above her head.
“It feelsh sho GOOODDD!” she yelled through clenched teeth. She bore down, harder and harder, pushing until her belly would contort itself and turn hot. As the contraction ended Wendy let her legs down, her breaths even more raggidy than the last contractions. She looked down to the sight of her slit open to the sight of a wet head of hair thoroughly stretching her labia folds. Some of her white vaginal fluids decorated the surface of her baby’s exposed head. Her heart could not stop.
The top of her belly began to deflate, signs of her baby travelling further downwards. Out of line with the next contraction, Wendy couldn’t wait to indulge, she rubbed the outline of her belly further, agitating the large heavy orb she carried around with her. “Hooo… Hooo. It feels so good to be pregnant…. Hmmmmngggg!!!” She groaned, spreading her pussy out to it’s limit.
Wendy’s legs hung wide open while she pressed her force to her abdomen, beginning to expel her child out into the world. She could feel the finest details of her baby’s face rubbing against her tender, moistened vaginal folds. The hairline passing through, divits of her baby’s eyes, finally, stopping its nose.
“Shhhnnnrrrghhh! AAaaaaahHHHh… Cum… Oh my god... I’m going to cum! RRRaaaaNNNGGHHHHH!!!!!” She cried, the head popping out with an audible pop and a squirt of steaming fluids onto her floor. Wendy’s pussy had never been stretched so intensely before!
Her tongue hung out, her chest heaved up and down. “One…. More!!!” She told herself. Wendy parked her heels onto the ground. She held her own sheets behind her as the final contraction began. Wendy threw her hips forward, in a decisive strain, pushing all of her force into her uterus she let out a powerful cry. “GRRRRRAAAAAAANggHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!” Wendy screamed
To her dismay, the head did not budge, exhausted, Wendy slid back further with her throat and pussy on fire. “Nonono! Don’t be stuck!” she cried, looking everywhere to try to find a solution.
While she waited she began to feel the baby’s head begin to move and begin to take its first breaths during their own birth. She could feel her newborn's hands and feet begin to move inside of her. She had to move fast.
Wendy puffed her breaths, finding the fastest way to free her baby’s shoulders. That's when she saw her loyal wand to her right. Hesitating for a moment she held her breath while her baby’s shoulders grinded into her pelvis. “Ow… owowowow!”
She switched the head of her vibrator on, the familiar recoil hanging particularly heavy in her hands. She was really about to masturbate her baby out. Feeling the kicks towards the center of her belly now caused her to bite her lips. Her belly began to constrict once more. She regained her breath and her hands started to shake, a mixture of anxiety… and anticipation. SHe began to salivate at the thought of her baby’s shoulders slipping free to welcome the baby’s whole body.
The pain started to take control of her belly, it was time for her to push. “Hoo… hoo…” she winced in pain, grabbing her belly. “Ddon’t worry… you’re going… hnnnnghhhhh… to… hah… be born soon.”
She brought the silicone head to her pussy slowly. The vibration could be felt between the space, Wendy stood no match to the feeling as contact was made. Pleasure shocked into her entire body like electricity, tension from her uterus fought with her muscles' ability to feel the vibrations, combining into a fiery combination between her legs.
“URRRRRRRGHHHHHHHNNNN!!!!!” she howled. Wendy’s hips shot into the air, the positional change freeing the caught shoulder. She wielded the vibrator with both hands, relentlessly grinding against the head as she kicked the toy up to it’s highest setting to feel the wand drill into her clitoris while her baby emerged.
“FUAAAH… annnnghhhh FUUUUUUCKKKKK.” Wendy snarled. She grabbed her sheets behind her, curling her toes. One shoulder popped free from her pussy. Her climax was teased for so long, and after her crowing, after her entire pregnancy, she could feel the size and weight of all 10+ pounds of child that she was so close to pushing out.
Her baby’s weight began to slide out of her completely. Her vision was going white and she was losing all senses of control over her body.“GONNA… FUCKING. CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!!!!!!!”
With a pop and a geyer of juices the second shoulder emerged. Wendy’s baby slid safely onto the pillow. Her hips fell and Wendy’s body was left twitching on the foot of her bed. She breathed slowly, ragged breaths to get air back into her body.
Loud cries from a healthy pair of lungs filled her bedroom and the new mother scrambled to her butt urgently scooping up her baby and holding her to her chest. “I’m sorry, aahhh. I think I got carried away…” She kissed her newborn on the head, her heart racing. “I might have to get you a sibling soon though…”
Pregnant woman having been in labor for hours pushing as hard as she can until the head pokes through her stretched out cunt in a crown. She pauses to catch her breath and that’s when you make your move. You trace her taut pussy lips where they pull back over the wet skull of her baby. She recoils in surprise at the sudden touch but you don't stop there. You cup your palm over the head and push. She howls in pain at what you are doing to her. Her cunt flutter, pussy lips flap uselessly around your wrist. The head sinks deeper into her pussy and you continue to thrust it back even as you feel her birth canal flutter around your forearm trying to push back against the baby you are driving into her uterus. She clutches her belly and presses down on her stomach trying to keep the baby from being rammed back into her womb. It's almost impressive enough for you to stop. She must really want this baby out of her. Not to worry. Once your cupped hand breaches her uterus and you feel the dilated band of her cervix around your wrist, you let go of the head. She gasps when you open your hand inside her womb, groaning as you feel around. You root around in her uterus blindly, poking and jabbing the stretched thin walls of her stuffed uters and grinding into her slack cervix. The baby also flutters around and you watch the horror and pain on her face at the sensations in her belly and the lumps and movement showing through her belly. Finally, the baby kicks your hand and you grab the leg and pull gently. She's screaming again, her eyes wide in terror as her oblong torpedo belly morphs, stretching her overtaxed womb sideways. You pause and give her a moment to bask in the pain. She hesitantly touches the protruding sides of her belly, stretched wider than ever. She sobs in pain. You continue to pull the foot down and out her uterus, guiding it out of her pussy gently. As soon as you pull your fist out and let go, you smack the swollen underside of the fading woman's belly to get her attention. Push, you tell her. Her breath hitches at the odd sensation of a foot dangling from her puffy reddened pussy. She begs you in between broken sobs to just pull it all the way out of her. You ignore her and wait until she realizes you aren't going to do anything to help her birth the baby you repositioned into a footling breech. She screams at you, that you've made it too hard to birth now, that she doesn't know how to birth a baby foot first even as her body contracts like a vice to squeeze it out of her. You ignore her hysterical shrieking and watch the show. It's going to take hours to get the baby out, maybe even days. Her pussy spasms occasionally, forcing the baby out as far as it can. But it plunges back into her cunt as soon as the spasm passes. She reaches down to her vagina every few contractions as though she's going to try and pull her baby out herself. She never does. The pain of your pulling still hurting her birthing cunt.
imagine a medical school has a deal with the local hospital that, on days where the students need to practice handling certain situations, the students are allowed to use someone from the hospital. imagine you're in labor, and your baby REFUSES to come out - every time you push, or someone pulls it out, it just slips back in. you go to the hospital and are instructed to walk, unassisted, to a room. you wait in that room, crying in pain. and you're given no warning, no choice, before the room is suddenly full of med students. nobody explains to you what's going on, nobody comforts you, nobody even treats you like a person. all eyes are on your hole and the baby lodged inside it. and they all are going to use you to practice pulling a baby out.
Poor little bird-folk who has a condition that makes their eggs grow unusually large. It means they almost always get egg bound and spend days laying a clutch when all their friends do it in an afternoon. It doesn't help that they're small and slight with narrow hips that strain against every huge egg.
As they get closer to laying their stomach swells up immensely, looking ridiculous on their small frame. Everyone else they know gets a regular, manageable bump in the weeks before they lay. Usually only restricting their movements in the last few days. But their stomach is huge and obvious and horribly sore for weeks. They spend almost a month too heavy to fly and by the last week they can barely walk. You would think that going through this every year would mean they're used to it, but every time they are caught off guard by how heavy and sore and uncomfortable their giant eggs make them. Their fragile pelvis wasn't made to carry so much weight. Their skin stretches so far that they start to lose feathers on their belly and red, angry stretch marks are visible on the exposed skin. It's miserable but they know the worst is still yet to come.
Their body is designed to lay quickly. Half a day of laboring, an hour of pushing and you've got a clutch. But with their eggs three or four times bigger than they should be that timeline is simply impossible. They dread those first contractions. Once they start they are trapped in a horrible storm as their body shoves the first egg down brutally hard and fast. The pressure in their hips increases ten fold. They squawk and cry, paralyzed by the intensity and trying desperately to find a position that will ease some of the pressure.
It's not long before the tip of the first egg begins to press down through their cloaca. This is when the real trouble starts. They are gripped with the urge to push. The first push begins to stretch their hole, the heavy egg bulging out the skin between their legs, the very tip visible just inside. But there is not enough space. Two, maybe three pushes should be enough for a regular egg. But their egg is so, so big. It gets stuck almost immediately. A few desperate pushes might bring it down just a bit more, enough than the stretch of their cloaca really starts to sting. But then it lodges itself and won't budge no matter how much they push.
No matter how many times they're forced to do this they are always gripped with horrible panic when they realize the egg won't move. The pain of contractions, the spasming of their stretched hole, the mind numbing pressure, all make it impossible to think. They'll thrash and scream, crying that it's stuck! It's stuck! Oh god please, it won't come! By now they know to have a healer on hand. But during their first lay they cried alone for hours, sure they were going to die.
There isn't actually much the healer can do. The bird-folk must now go through a horrible process of slow stretching. The healer takes some oil and rubs it around the rim of their hole, gently stretching the already taught skin, trying to work them open. They moan as their tortured hole is stretched. The burn is constant and terrible and they feel like they could rip open at any second. The healer stretches them and then they are forced to stand on shaking legs and hobble back and forth, bowlegged around their crowning egg. They shift their hips as best they can, trying to work the egg down. They are still beset by contractions and every few the urge to push becomes too great and they have to squat down and push. On every fourth or fifth push the egg will inch out the slightest bit more.
The progress is glacial and agonizing. They are trapped in a desperate cycle. Once they collapse from exhaustion the healer applies more oil, wedging their finger in alongside the egg and making them stretch. Then after a fruitless push or two they are dragged back to their feet. They rock and sway and squat intermittently, pushing and crying, until their legs give out once again and they slump to the ground in an exhausted heap. Then the healer approaches with more oil.
This goes on for hour after miserable hour. Slowly the egg crowns out of their tortured cloaca. The liberal application of oil and constant stretching protects them from tearing but the burn is indescribable. They are stretched so tight around something much bigger than it should be. At a certain point they go numb, their nerves unable to keep up with the stretch.
It's usually at that point that they break down completely, going limp and weeping, saying the egg will never come out, just leave them, they're too tired to push anymore. Every time they're sure this is it, it's over. They just want the pressure and the pain to end but their will is completely broken. The healer lets them cry and writhe through several contractions then hauls them up on their hands and knees, forces some water down their throat, and tells them to get pushing. It's hard but they've done it every year and this won't be the year they die on the healer's watch. Still crying and hiccuping miserably they bear down and push again.
By the next day they are usually close to the widest part of the egg. The end is in sight but still so far away. The cycles of oil, stretching, and pushing have gotten shorter and shorter. They are no longer able to stand, the egg forcing their legs too wide. It looks obscene sticking out of their hole, taking up the entire space between their legs. They alternate between squatting and rocking back and forth on their hands and knees. By now they are in a kind of trance-like state. Their world shrunk down to just the giant egg holding them brutally open. They emit a constant quiet lowing, their broken voice peaking in distress with every push.
Finally after one push they feel it, on instinct they know that one more push will get them past the widest point. They suck in a breath and push with every desperate ounce of strength left in their exhausted body. The egg moves. The pressure gives. In an almost orgasmic gush the egg bursts through and slides out of their spasming hole. They slump to the ground and sob in relief.
They get maybe an hour of rest. Then the pains return and their body starts working the next giant egg down to their hole. They're stretched now so this one will not take quite as long but they still have hours more of pushing ahead. And after that two more eggs lie in wait.
When all of the eggs are finally out they sleep for days, completely drained. The relief of finally being empty is always tainted by the knowledge that they will have to do it all again next year.
Imagine watching your very pregnant partner on their back, eyes screwed shut with effort, howling as they push as hard as they can. Their bulging cunt bobs in place not making any significant progress. And you know it won't because you have complete control of their body. Nothing happens unless you allow it. Baby doesn't turn the right way, labor doesn't start, cervix doesn't dilate, baby doesn't even come out of their womb unless you want it to. They don't beg you to let them give birth. They tried once, a few days ago, waddling on bowed legs agonizingly slow on the treadmill, "I have to give birth," they insisted, "your baby has been in my womb for too long, you need to let me give birth." You didn’t need to let them do anything. And so you didn't. They continued trying to birth the baby anyway. And you are content to watch their fruitless efforts in giving birth.
Absolutely drooling over being too small to birth so the baby is crowning for days and everytime you sit down, it only pushes the baby back in and you scream in pain until you stand up and the baby whooshes back down to a full crown
Ugh i NEED
you try to sit down in a way that doesn't push the baby back in but i force you to sit normally for my own entertainment <3
areudirty
janainaart
vaporwave
dededos
germansingergirl
gummygunk
izzy806
