Yours
I can’t believe it. You snuck into my room, that fateful day. Stripped off my clothes, even though I was uncertain, scared. Opened my legs wide. You licked my delicate folds until they became damp on their own, until I was whimpering and moaning, arching my back and curling my toes with need. You pleasured me, even as I told you it felt wrong. You nibbled on my sensitive nub until I was clutching at the sheets, pleading with you to stop, that there was so much tension inside. Then you sucked hard on my clitty, forcing me to have my first orgasm. You drank up every drop of my cum, as we discovered I was a squirter, soaking the bed as I cried out, helpless to stop you.
Then, you mounted me. Slid deep inside as I sobbed, filling me with your member in a way I’d never known. You took me, claimed me in every way, filling my body. First with your flesh, and then, as I screamed, with your seed. My hands gripped you tightly, feet kicking as you forced another orgasm from me, coating your groin with my juices as you filled my belly with your cum.
You gave me a child. Forced me to become a mother, in that moment. You snuck into my room, stripped me, and put your baby into my body as I begged you not to, told you it was dangerous. You made me cum as you forcibly impregnated me. And now it’s growing, I’m helplessly swelling with your baby, looking at you every day with nobody else knowing that it’s you that did this. Everyone rubs my belly, telling me how big I am, amazed at how much I’m changing. They don’t know you’re the one changing me. Look at me, I used to be thin, beautiful. Now your baby is forcing my belly to get firm, warm with developing life.
I’m making a child in my body for you. You made me pregnant, you’re making me give birth. All you had to do was plant your seed, and now I’m helpless to do anything but swell with your unasked for offspring, until it’s time to open my legs wide and give it life.
It’s almost time. But you know that. Look how massive I am. Run your hands over my pregnant swell. Feel your baby kick inside me, as tears brim in my eyes. Feel my bellybutton. It’s so sensitive, and you can see it, how it makes me feel. Slip into my room again, and look at my naked body, the one you’ve taken over with your baby. See how wide my hips have become, how swollen my ankles are. Look how much you’ve forced me to adapt, my body eagerly accepting this, gestating your baby, making sure it’s healthy and happy within my womb that you invaded with your seed nine months ago.
Brush my nipples, watch my eyes go wide. They’re so sensitive. And look… it leaked milk onto your finger. I’m heavy and full, my breasts are milky. Play with them, let it leak down my chest, and lick it off, taste the sweet liquid my body is making for your baby. The baby you’re making me have. My breath is getting ragged, I’m getting turned on involuntarily again. It’s so much easier like this, my body is constantly ready.
Look at where you put this baby into me. Where it’ll come out. My feminine lips. My delicate folds. Or maybe I should say it? My puffy, pregnant pussy. You can feel the heat radiating off of my swollen, baby-filled cunny. You can smell my arousal, see the puffy lips glistening. You rub my belly as you force me down onto the bed again, tasting my gender as I plead once more. My cries for you to stop are ignored, as my hands stroke my pregnant swell, just as your do. Every little touch down there is driving me wild, my toes are curling, thighs quivering. You feel my belly getting tight.
Are you going to make the mother of your baby cum again? Gonna make me squirt while I’m full of your baby? Make my juices gush from my swollen pussy?
Do it, you bastard. Make me cum even as I scream that I think I’m going into labor. Make me cum for you.
Make me birth for you.
You taste it. It erupts from me as I arch my back, clawing at the sheets just like when you put this baby in me. And again. I’m so much more sensitive, I can’t stop orgasming as you nibble and suck on my molten bead. And then… I cry out, in a different tone. Something else comes gushing out of me.
You’re making me birth.
It hurts. I’m in labor. The baby… your baby is about to open my swollen pussy wide and come out. It’s going to hurt so bad. I’m going to scream and cry as I deliver your baby, the baby you fucked into me as I begged you not to. you continue pleasuring me, even as I tell you to get help.
But you don’t want that, do you? You want it just like how you impregnated me. Just Me. And you. Me sobbing and begging and pleading, and you savoring every moment of my ordeal.
You want me to scream your baby out. Throw my head back, open my legs wide, and sob in agony as your baby tortures it’s way out of my body inch by agonizing inch. You want it to hurt, you want to delight in every solitary instant of my helplessness that you’ve forced upon me.
You impregnated me. And now, I’m going to birth for you, and only you. You lock eyes with me, for just a moment, and you see the fear and shame. I’m yours, utterly and totally. And it doesn’t matter if I’m ready to become a mother now or not, because the bed is soaked with amniotic fluid, and the head is pressing painfully against my cervix, starting to force it’s way through.
It’s time.
My breathing goes from ragged shameful arousal to rapid panic as another contraction grips me. Rub the belly you filled with your offspring, enjoy how it feels burning hot, delight in how you can feel it tighten, shrink a little with the effort of trying to deliver your child. Tell me to push. Tell me how beautiful I am like this, and that as soon as this is out you’ll force another into me, as soon as I’m ready. Make me birth for you knowing that I’m just going to be doing this in another nine or ten months, that I can’t escape this fate, that you’ll make me have as many babies for you as my body will let you make, even as I plead for you to stop, even as I’m scared and ashamed by every single one.
I feel your tongue between my legs. Licking away my birthing fluids, keeping my puffy entrance clean for your baby to stretch it wider than it’s ever been. Listen to me panting, see the sweat coating my body as childbirth begins to take its toll, hear my agonized cries as another terrible cramp holds me tight and I helplessly bear down for you. Run your fingers over my gender, feel it throb and twitch as it tries to deliver, all for you, because you wanted it this way, because you made it this way, regardless of my desires.
Keep rubbing my belly, feel how heavy it is, the heaviness I’ve been dealing with for nine months, now getting lower and lower, slipping through my birth canal. You can faintly hear it, with your head so close, as I scream for help, that I can’t stop pushing, that it’s coming. The slick, wet sound of the head forcing me open, of your child gradually emerging from me.
It hurts. It hurts so much, your baby is torturing me, and I have to reward you and it by giving birth to you.
My toes curl as my thighs quiver, and you can see as, bit by bit, the skin around my swollen pussy lips begins to bulge. Cup it, feel my crotch being pressed outwards by your infant. There’s so much pressure. It’s massive, it feels like it’s gonna break me in half. rub your baby’s head before it even crowns, make me whimper as you once more stroke my tender, sensitive lips even though I can feel them straining to contain my unwanted child.
My body is yours, I can’t stop you. Touch me, tease me in whatever way what you want as I scream out your ultimate gift.
You can see it, can’t you? The head. I feel it, it’s parting my lips. My shrieks increase in pitch as my gender splits around the head. I’m crowning, and oh god it burns. My mind spins, this can’t be real, I can’t be trapped, naked and pregnant, in a room with you, giving birth as you sit between my legs, just enjoying the view of my body delivering the human that you created. But it is, and I am.
Your baby is slipping out, and I’m helpless to do anything but let it.
Run your fingers over the head, enjoy how wet it is. Covered in my juices, making delightful slick noises as my tunnel grips the offspring you forced me to gestate far harder than it’s gripped anything before. Watch my femininity ripple and pulse, see my body straining to bring your firstborn into the world. Hear my sobs and cries as the pain overwhelms me, and I once more push with the contraction. My cries echo off the walls as I try to scream your baby out.
My entrance strains more and more as it comes, causing me even more torment, and making the skin under your fingers and tongue strain and thin. Lick me clean, play with my pregnant pussy, stroke my still heaving belly. I can’t do anything but push, and hope it emerges soon. Tease how thin the skin is, at it begins to strain. For how swollen my lips became, it seems they might not have puffed out enough. Rub the skin eagerly, feel it quivering as more of the head makes itself known.
I might tear.
It’s on the very cusp. Watch it turn pale, the blood being forced from it as the skin stretches wider and wider. Lick it, stroke it as it begins to turn deep, angry red, the sign that it’s being pulled too far. You have no idea how much this hurts, how hideous this pressure is, how intense the sensations of giving birth are. I can’t stop. I can’t.
Tell me to push. Tell me you don’t care if I tear, you don’t care if I split myself all the way open, just give birth.
Tell me.
To push.
Please.
I do. I push with everything I have, feeling like I’m going insane. Part of me wants it too, wants to be helpless, wants to feel that sweet agony of my skin breaking for your baby. I’m pushing, I’m trying to break my own skin, I scream partly in terror, partly in mortal agony, and partly with lustful need.
I’m safe. It comes out, the skin holds. The head slips forward in a hot, powerful gush of fluids. Another push, sobbing and gasping, and the first shoulder emerges. Another one and the baby squirts out of me.
You can tell from the scent that was the right term to use.
I came your baby out, even though it was the most painful experience of my life. I can’t fight you. I can’t fight my own body. I’ll always hate it, I’ll always be scared of being a mother, I’ll always not want to be near you, because I know you’ll force me to become a mommy again.
And I’ll never be able to stop you. I’ll orgasm as you impregnate me. I’ll barely be able to keep my hands off the baby belly I never wanted, still don’t want. And I’ll always let you lead me away when you see me wince at a contraction, always let you make me your private show.
I’m yours.
