18+ only. welcome to the spice blog enjoy your stay. ft preg tf xeno etc etc and various body horrors. They them, trans gay. this is a sideblog so it doesn’t follow or like anything. i rp!
They should make cigarettes with estrogen instead of nicotine, and instead of giving you cancer they make you pretty, and you can put them out on a masochist to make its tits bigger.
Having your belly rubbed by the same creature that was just pumping theie eggs down your throat. Listening to your tummy as it bubbled and groans for hours until they move down into your intestines protected by their slick coating. They start to grow as they accumulate inside your guts and you go from feeling merely full to bursting out of your pants, popping the button. They slide a hand down there knowing how good its making you feel to get stretched out from the inside and teasing you until you cum again and again and try to clench everything inside as long as possible.
Being on an adventure and slowly getting tf'd into a big slobby monster. You start eating everything you can find. In an unnaturally short amount of time youve put on entirely too much weight to not be spilling out of your clothes. A thin layer of sweat which you blame on the hot climate starts to get slimier and more like mucus each time you wipe it off. Your tounge gets long and sticky and your appatite starts extending to bugs and anything you can fit. And no feeding is complete without the noxious belches you erupt into afterwards. Just when you hardly think you can get more gross your belly twinges and youre forced to your knees in the murky water. Thick oozy spawn pushed out of you with such force that it slips down the legs of your shorts, collecting in the water and leaving trails down your legs. You come afterwards in a fertilizing instinct and immediately feel horrible for becoming so disgusting. Your belly relaxes but you know that your buology will force you to do this again, sooner than you want, new eggs forming already.
Im back in the building again with hyperfixating on Jek//yll and Hy//de and reread the book and uhhh what if. Hear me out. J ended up taking the potion that made H, and H of course used his freedom to do anything he wanted. Yeah he murders and stuff but he also indulges in the flesh unlike J, who's busy with research. H takes his time to let out the impulse and steam.
J doesn't remember anything, of course. He doesn't know H has been an absolute whore. But when his pants get just a bit tighter around his belly, he thinks he's just putting on weight.
H keeps messing around and doesn't mind the consequences. Hell, he can't stop getting fucked over and over because of pregnancy making him so fucking horny. He knows damn well what happened. Hes not telling J shit.
Of course, J is trying to do an experiment and uh. Well he ruined the ratio of reagents because he just felt a kick in his belly.
Internally, he's screaming at H for being an idiot. H called him an idiot because maybe he wouldn't have to resort to being fucked senseless when their body NEEDS a good railing.
They grow much faster, too. How ironic, J would think, if it ended up being twins?
H teases him, because he knows that J is secretly hoping he was fertile as hell.
Fuckkk now I just keep thinking of when someone is so pregnant their navel has no choice but to pop out.
They feel whatever's in their womb squirming around a lot recently. They see the ripples through their shirt and even their hoodies, sometimes even swaying or feeling a harsh thump that makes them clutch the sides of their belly. They think they can't take anymore when they feel a pop, and suddenly their shirt is rubbing against this hard nub and it's driving them up a wall.
When they touch it, it nearly makes their legs buckle. They gasp and grunt, forcing themself to hold their belly around it and not touch that nub that keeps twitching with each little thump and press. Yet even when they try to keep the fabric off it, the chill of the air almost makes it worse, a wet patch already soaking their underwear.
Maybe they have a partner that just watches before kneeling in front of them and kissing the taut underside of their belly. The kisses slowly trail to their belly button before they feel a testing lick and then a suck. They try to hold onto their partner by any means necessary as they cry out, not even able to touch themself.
Imagine you're deep in labor with your enormous, oversized, posterior baby.
This hasn't come as a surprise. You've known what was going to happen for months now, and you and your partner have planned for this extensively. Still, though, it's one thing to make plans for this in the cold light of day, and quite another to actually endure it.
"Theeeeere you go, just like that for me." He supports you from your side, holding you close while you moan through a punishing contraction. "Just let your body open up. You're doing so good right now." A C-section is off the table, so you're definitely going to need forceps. Still, you don't need them just yet, so, for now, you can labor in your own birth suite before you need to go to the delivery room.
"Nnnnnh- Fuck- Pressure-" You feel your contraction peak as a bowling ball settles between your hips.
"Alright, spread your legs nice and wide for me." Your partner settles himself between your thighs as that weight drops even more, until it feels like your pelvis is splitting apart.
"Now, give me a hard push- I need a hard, hard push, okay?" He presses back on your legs, and you curl forward and scream with the effort as you give in to your body's urges. "There you go. And again for me-" You curl forward again, giving everything you have and then some to bear down on the huge mass in your hips. "And again-" More screaming, more pushing, more of the same desperate struggle through the overwhelming pressure. "Again-" You push one more time, fighting hard to move your baby down just a little more, bearing down with every bit of your strength until you slump back on the bed at the end of the contraction.
You push just like that through the next contraction, and the next, and the next, and the next… You struggle for what feels like hours as he mops your sweat and kisses your forehead and holds your hand and tells you again and again just how well you're doing, that you're so, so perfect like this. You feel the endless pressure crash over you more times than you can count, like your womb is trying to crush you to death, like your hips are so full you're about to crack open, like you're pushing so hard you're going to turn inside out. He presses his fingers inside you over and over again, reporting with excitement on every millimeter of progress as you work your baby down until, finally, he watches your lips start to bulge just a little. He spreads you open with his fingers and-
"Oh my God, I can see the head!"
You fall back against the pillow in relief. This is it! You're doing it! You were so afraid you wouldn't be able to get this baby out on your own, but now- "Alright, push again for me." You curl forward with renewed energy, determined to push as long and as hard as it takes to have your baby right here. "Good! Good! Come on, hard push for me!" You cry out again as you bear down onto the mass in your hips, as you give in completely to the huge pressure deep inside you, struggling as long and as hard as you can until your body forces you to breathe.
"There you go! Push again for me!" You give another huge effort, bearing down with everything you have while he watches the head intently for any sign of movement. "One more, okay? Come on, have our baby!" You throw your head back with the effort, squeezing your eyes shut and gritting your teeth as you try to force that huge weight in your hips just a little farther down. You don't even have to notice the look of sympathy on his face to know you haven't gotten anywhere - you can feel the head wedged deep inside you, stuck, if anything, even worse than before.
Still, the thought of the "delivery room" makes your stomach turn. You know what's in there. Stirrups, drapes, catheters and masks, forceps, scissors, and needles, bright lights and antiseptic and harsh metal. If you give in, you'll be spread-eagled, cut, pried open, and- Yeah, you don't want to go in there. You shake your head to his questioning eyebrow.
"Alright. Get these wide open for me." He presses your legs back as far as they'll go, and you hold them there while you feel the pressure build to more than you can stand. "Give me big pushes now. Hard as you can, okay?" You do. You push long and hard, again and again, struggling through the whole contraction without feeling the head move a bit. You fight to catch your breath and, before you know it, that pressure is crushing you again, taking your breath away as you desperately bear down against the obstacle lodged in your hips. Your belly clamps down and lets go and clamps down one more time as you pull back your legs, pushing with tears streaming from your eyes as you feel every bit of your effort ultimately wasted, as you feel your baby's head stuck hard inside you no matter how much you push.
"Alright." Your partner takes your hand tightly in his. "I think you're ready now-"
"NO! No- Please- I can't-" You can feel tears running from your eyes.
"Shhhhhhh, you're okay, you're okay." He pulls your head against his chest, and you can feel his fingers in your hair. "I'm here for you, but this head's just not going to come out on its own." You choke out a sob against his neck. "I'm sorry. You're going to need the delivery room eventually." Another cry. "But we can push right here as long as you need to. We won't go until you're ready, okay?"
No! It's not okay! It's the opposite of okay! Why can't he see that you don't want- "Nnnnnh-" You're cut off by another surge of pressure as your belly contracts again.
"Come on, hard pushes for me. Let it alllllll out." Your body doesn't give you a choice as you bear down, a feral animal giving in to instinct as you struggle with your stuck baby. You're no better with the next contraction either, giving a huge desperate push down into your hips that gets you exactly nowhere, nor with the one after that while your partner waits patiently, telling you, "Go ahead and push, we're not in a hurry", and "Don't worry, we can take as long as you need."
You hang your head forward and pull your legs back, fighting your way through the contractions one after the other. You feel pain and cramping, then pressure, so much fucking pressure, and then you push, and scream, and push again, and scream again. Then, a few quick moments to catch your breath, to feel yourself tired and soaked in sweat, clinging tight to his hand before it all starts again. You just want the nightmare to end. You'll do whatever it takes to get your baby out, anything to stay out of the delivery room, but there's nothing you can do. You feel the contractions come and the pressure crush you and you pushpushpushpushpush with everything you have, but the head stays right where it is.
Nothing you do seems to help. You try squatting and feel the pressure get somehow even worse as the head rides down in your pelvis, as you push again and again with brutal, uncontrolled fury. For a while it feels almost like you're making progress, so you suffer your way through the endless, punishing contractions, squatting and pushing like your life depends on it- at least until your partner checks you and finds out that all you've been doing is wedging the head inside you even more. You try pushing on your hands and knees, feeling your belly weighing you down like a stone. You try standing to push, and find that your legs can't even support your weight. You try getting on your back again, and find that your baby is just as stuck as before.
You're not sure how long it goes on, the endless haze of cramping and pressure and pushing, growing more and more exhausted with each desperate, struggling effort, but eventually things reach a breaking point.
"Hey-" Your partner nudges you back to awareness. "Look at me." He manages to catch your gaze. "You need the delivery room." At this point, you're too tired to argue.
"I'll call ahead - we'll need a wheelchair, too." Fortunately, there's one nearby for just such an occurrence. You moan with discomfort as he helps you into the wheelchair and you feel it force your legs closer together, and he can see the dread radiating off you as you make the short trip to the delivery room. "Shhhhh, you're okay. You're okay." You sink back in fear as you catch sight of the doors. "You're going to meet our baby soon! Just think of that, okay? You're going to meet our baby." He gives your hand a short squeeze before he wheels you into the room.
It's just like you expected - a large obstetrical table at the center of the room, a spotlight pointed directly between the stirrups, trays of gleaming metal instruments, the doctor and nurses in surgical scrubs, and you the star of the show. "Alright, we'll get you set up on the table here and then we can get started!" The nurses get started on the preparations, and they go just as you feared. Stirrups, drapes, mask, catheter, spotlight, more and more restraints… You catch a brief glimpse of the doctor, an older man beneath his mask and gown, as he runs through your chart. "Let's see here… Significant macrosomia, persistent occiput posterior expected - and confirmed - scheduled forceps delivery, pushed for… how long?" "About four hours since the head came down." Your partner checks the time, and the doctor raises his eyebrows. "This is pretty much a textbook 'undeliverable', but I'm sure you had your reasons."
The nurses finish their preparations, spreading the stirrups wide apart as the doctor approaches. You can feel his gloved finger trail along your lips for a moment before pushing inside, feeling for the position of the head. Apparently satisfied, he reaches for the forceps, and you watch as he takes a moment to coat them in lube before he takes his position between your legs.
"Alright, just take a deep breath in-" You hear your partner's voice beside you as you feel a burning, stinging coldness between your legs. You can feel everything as the doctor levers the hard metal inside you, pushing in deep and sweeping into place. "And let it out, there you go." You feel weak, shaky as you grip his hand for dear life. "And breathe in-" More stinging pain, more hard metal pressing, twisting deep inside, sweeping into position. "And out." You let out your breath, and-
"Oh, FUCK-" You feel the blades lock together around the head, forcing you open somehow even wider inside. "I can't-"
"Shhhhhhhh. Yes you can. I know you can, okay? Just a little longer." Your tear-filled eyes meet his for a moment, until you're interrupted by the cramping in your belly.
"Alright. Hard push with this one." The doctor tugs gently on the head as one of the nurses adjusts the stirrups a little wider. "Hard push for me now."
You feel the fullness in your hips finally overwhelm you as you curl forward and bear down against the crushing, unbearable pressure of your contraction. You don't even have the breath to scream as you feel yourself slowly opening up, as you feel the head bulling forward bit by bit, burning more and more with the doctor's steady pulling.
"Come on. Cooooome on. Have our baby now." Your partner grips your hand tightly, and you do your best to focus on his words, on his touch, rather than what you can feel between your legs.
You can feel the pressure crushing you, making you drive down against the baby stuck inside you with all your might. You push with a fierce, desperate intensity, gritting your teeth through the burn that grows worse and worse as the harsh metal tools drag your baby forward. Eventually, your concentration fails, and you cry out as the head forces your lips apart wider and wider, as you're forced to stretch so unbearably far for your oversized child.
"Push through it, okay? Just push through it! You're doing so good right now!"
As though you could do anything else, with your belly crushing the breath out of you, with the huge baby wedged deep in your pelvis, with every cell in your body screaming at you to push and push and push even more. You scream again as you give everything you have to try to get your baby out, fighting against the stirrups and the straps holding you down as you feel yourself pried open even further before you collapse onto the bed again.
"There you go, theeeeeere you go." Your partner's voice cuts through your weeping as the contraction fades. "Just hold on, okay? I know you can do this." You're not so sure as you fight to catch your breath, as you tuck your head beneath his chin and press your face against his chest, but your body isn't giving you a choice. All too soon, you feel that familiar cramping tightness, feel that same desperate pressure building up in your hips.
"Alright, push just like that with the next one." You can hear the voice coming from between your spread thighs, see the light glinting off the metal wedged so tightly inside you. "That's it, hard as you can. I'm going to pull-" You let out a cry of pain as the burning between your legs flares all at once. "Push. You need to push now."
You grit your teeth as the pressure finally overwhelms you, screaming internally as you feel the forceps steadily prying you open more and more, as you lose any semblance of control, bearing down on instinct as your opening catches fire. All you can do is just try to let it happen, to try to focus on the warmth of your partner's hand, on his words in your ear as your lips stretch and stretch and burn for the head.
"I know it hurts, I know. Just have our baby, I'm right here for you."
You can't make it stop. Can't slow it down. All you can do is hold on and try not to scream. You're almost doubled over with the force of your pushing, with your body's involuntary, desperate effort to force your child out right this second, feeling the relentless, steady pull of the forceps dragging the head out towards the world. You can feel the fire catching between your legs as your most sensitive place stretches wider and wider with no end in sight.
"Little more now, just a little more. I know you can do this."
Eventually, your resolve breaks down. You scream, long and wordless even as you still can't help but bear down with all your might. It's all just too much, the unbearable, agonizing pressure, the brutal cramping in your midsection, the inferno growing worse and worse as you're mercilessly pried open with cold, clinical efficiency. It's just more than you can take as you cry out again and again, as you push and scream and cling on for dear life, feeling the head open you more than you could possibly imagine until your contraction finally lets you go.
"PLEASE- PLEASE- I CAN'T-" You give your partner a wild, desperate look. "IT HURTS- I CAN'T-"
"Shhhhhhhh, you're okay, I've got you. You're going to have our baby now."
The doctor keeps a tight grip on the forceps and stops the head from receding. You fight to catch your breath while you're forced to stretch so wide open, struggling through every bit of the burning those harsh metal tools inflict on you. Through it all, the doctor can see your clit as stiff and ready as ever, standing proud over the stretched-tight circle of your lips around the head.
"Here we go now-" The doctor watches your belly start to harden once again. "You should crown with this contraction."
Relief and dread wash over you in equal measure. One one hand, you're that much closer to the end. On the other, this is going to get worse before it gets better. In the end, it doesn't matter - your baby is coming out no matter what you think. You feel your partner's hand tighten around yours as the pressure builds again, as your belly does its best to crush you once more.
"Alright, hard push for me now-" You start bearing down long before he says anything. "There we go. Let's have this baby."
"BURNING- FUCK- IT BURNS-" You feel the doctor start to pull with the forceps, feel yourself forced open wider and wider around the huge, hard mass of the head, feel your lips stretching more and more and more, pried open mercilessy no matter how much it hurts. You try to fight against the restraints, to squirm away, to buck your hips, but it doesn't matter. You can't stop pushing, can't stop stretching, can't stop screaming- "MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!"
"You're tearing just a little now. We'll take this niiiiice and slow, okay?"
His words fall on deaf ears as you push with everything you have to just get this over with, to just have your baby whatever the consequences, but the doctor keeps a tight grip on the forceps, easing the head out of you inch by brutal inch. "GET IT OUT- GET IT OUT- GET IT OUT-" You scream, and struggle, and bear down as hard as you can, but none of it makes a difference - you're forced all the way open as the doctor pulls your baby out of you in a textbook medical procedure.
"Annnnnnnd, that's a crown! Nice and slow, just like that."
"GETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUT-" You push again and again in huge, desperate surges, struggling in uncontrolled, animal panic as you feel yourself slowly splitting open, as you beg and scream and fight against the forceps delivering your baby. The head is barely moving inside you- the doctor maneuvers as carefully as he can, leaving you stuck stretching and burning and crying out again and again at the endless, inescapable ring of fire.
"Come on, just a little more now. Just a little bit more."
"GET IT OUUUUUUUUUT-" You writhe on the bed, frantic and desperate as you bear down like your life depends on it, pushing until your breath fails you, then pushing again, and again, and again. "PLEASE! GET IT OUT!" You nearly crush your partner's hand in a white-knuckled grip as your entire world shrinks down to the searing, blazing circle between your legs, to your frantic, futile effort to just split your lips open and get the head out while your baby is slowly, methodically extracted.
"Almost there now- Allllllmost-"
"PLEASE- PLEASE- PLEASE- PLEASE-" You're reduced to a begging, sobbing wreck, pushing involuntarily with your legs held open as wide as they'll go, a whole roomful of people staring intently at the titanic bulge forcing you open, at the medical instruments making you cry out again and again. "PLEASE JUST GET IT OUT-" You feel the head pulled forward so, so slowly, just a little bit at a time, dragged out of your most sensitive place in an endless, burning agony. You throw your head back and give one long, wordless scream as the doctor pulls again, as the forceps hold you all the way open, as-
"And, there's the head!"
"That's it! You did it! You did so, so good!" You collapse back against your partner, sobbing in relief. He takes you in his arms and you press your head against his chest, doing your best to shut out the world for just a little while.
The world, though, isn't quite done with you yet.
You hear a click the doctor unlocks the forceps, and you wince just a little as you feel him probe a finger around the edge of your opening. "Alright, looks like… bilateral labial tears, then a midline tear as well." You don't want to think about that right now. "They don't look too bad, though." His finger probes deeper, and you wince again. "And, nice rotation from the shoulders- We should be good to go!"
You try to hide from this, to just bury your face in your partner's arms and escape, but your body won't let you. No matter what you want, you feel the next contraction coming, feel the pressure start to crush you again. You just want this over with. With a few fresh tears in your eyes, you curl forward once more as you give in to the pressure.
"This is it! Push, and have our baby!"
You push. You squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth and push with furious, desperate intensity. You feel the shoulders shift forward, feel them bulge outwards more and more, feel them stuck there for a single, horrifying moment-
"Alright, let's have these shoulders."
You feel the burning explode between your legs as the doctor pulls down on the head, growing worse and worse as you struggle with the size of your baby. "GET IT OUT!" You feel yourself stretching even more as the upper shoulder comes, forcing you wide open as the doctor starts to pull up. "GET! IT! OUT!" You push desperately as you feel the lower shoulder coming, pushing with everything you have as you feel a fire blazing between your legs. "AAAAAAAAA-" The shoulders come slow as you scream your way through the pain, as you bear down with a huge, final effort. Your body jerks as you give one last push for the hips before you're left shuddering and gasping and so, so blessedly empty.
After a moment, you feel something heavy and warm and wet placed on your chest.
"Oh my God!"
You open your eyes, and look down to see your baby. Neither of you say anything as you stare in wonder at the life you created together, but you don't need to. You're both already counting down the days until you'll do this again.
Even though I can't see it I can feel my cock throbbing in-time with the contractions. I'm numb from front to back, though I can tell that I'm oozing from every hole. A contraction overwhelms me and I fall to my knees. I push as best as I can, and the numbness gives way to burning as my asshole begins to bulge. I collapse forward and start to sob. My belly button, stretched beyond breaking pressed into the floor and I feel my shaft contact the underside of my belly. As the contraction ends my hands scramble backwards to part my cheeks and feel out the situation. I'm not making any progress but it feels like I'm being split in half.
how gratifying it is to watch your asshole bulge as you push and fail to relieve yourself of your massive burden. keep holding yourself open im sure it helps to make any amount of room and of course you cant see around your big tummy! do you think its too big to push out? your stomach, cock and hole look all so painful :(
I love the idea of birthing like 7+ babies, and it takes foreeeeever to get the first one out. It takes sooo longgggg to bring it down, I push it to a bulge so many times but it always slides back in, then it takes so many pushes and lots of waiting and panting and fighting the urge to bear down in order to stretch enough to open around the crown, then the head finally pops out, followed by a bunch of other really hard, long pushes to work the shoulders through, and once the first baby is finally out of me…
…the rest of the litter just comes barreling through with no hesitation. I don’t even get to enjoy the relief of birthing the first one because immediately the next head is driving down through my birth canal. I can’t close my legs, I’m too big to move, I’m not even consciously pushing. I bulge, crown, birth, bulge crown, birth, thrashing and screaming as the enormous litter I grew rapidly pours out of my opening with not so much as a break to breathe in between babies.
I was in a long-term relationship that fell apart partially because I was ace and my partner was very much not, and every time we looked for relationship help we got told that I was the problem. Not just that a significant mismatch in sexual desire could be a problem in a relationship, but that it was My Fault, Specifically, for not being willing to suck it up and have a bunch of sex I didn't want. To my ex's credit, he cared about consent much more than any of the professionals we talked to and refused to pressure me even when my (lesbian, billed as progressive and pro-LGBT) therapist was actively telling him to.
But it meant that we had absolutely no help or support when we were trying to work on the relationship in ways that *did* value my autonomy. There's basically no advice for people who want to try to make a relationship where there's a big desire gap work that isn't "well you should just have sex anyway" or "just break up lol". And that sucks!
Sometimes breaking up is necessary, and that's what ended up happening with us because there were other reasons we worked better as friends, but there *should* be better frameworks for discussing what people want and need that don't automatically assume that one partner's feelings are automatically more important or valuable than the other's.
I was dating someone who wanted to be accommodating and work with me to figure things out but lacked the EQ to do so in any effective way. It was my first relationship and I was still figuring out what being ace meant for me. It’s been eight or nine years, but I still remember very clearly the moment I realized we’d been approaching the entire discussion as if my orientation was the problem to be solved, and that it would be equally as valid to say that hers was.
She was significantly less impressed with this revelation than I was, but I tried to hold on to it ever since (although obviously the real problem wasn’t either one of us, but the mismatch and the lack of tools to deal with it). I think it’s super important to remember that we aren’t the ones in the wrong while our theoretical partners are the ones in the right. I was surprised by how much I’d internalized the assumption and I don’t think I’m the only one.
The other frustrating aspect of this is allo relationships will often have periods of time where libido does not match (I'm not derailing and this will swing back to asexual people)
Just after giving birth, during a family crisis, during a mental health episode, during health problems, during stressful periods at work
There are a lot of times when one person is horned up and raring to go and the other has no interest
And the solution often presented is that the person who is going through something should just put out because they are the problem instead of like...finding ways to engage in non sexual intimacy to reaffirm closeness
An asexual person is going to get 10x the amount of pressure and blame put on them and no advice on how non-sexual intimacy can help their relationships and if they get that at all it will only be to sell it as a bridge to sex they don't want.
I really hate the selling of intimacy as only equaling or facilitating sex. Intimacy comes in many forms and should be explored more by every couple as a non sexual act. And it the given importance it deserves. In fact I would argue if we as a society put more value on non sexual intimacy more relationships would be happier and healthier
And asexual people would stop getting shit for being themselves.
All of this, in ace AND allo relationships alike, is toxic as fuck. If someone is trying to pressure you into sex you don't want: that is wrong. That is sexual harassment at best and potentially sexual assault.
As an asexual, there are a lot of things I wish allos would learn from us. Right now I want you all to understand we ALL deserve better than this. Consent fucking matters, and sexual assault or harassment within a relationship is NOT okay!
I was sitting in the bathroom, shirt sticking to me with sweat, hair a mess. I felt like I was dying, trying not to gulp in desperate gasps of air. I was burning up, my whole body working so hard, and for what? I told Dad making his nachos for us was gonna upset my stomach, and now here I was.
My eyes closed, I prayed nobody walked in. My belly had been cramping so hard all morning, and I had been in the middle of class when I realized I had to go, it wasn't an option anymore. At first I just needed it a little bit, I thought I could last until the break. But then a bad cramp hit and I barely fought back the pressure inside me, that urge to go right then and there. I’d have just died if I’d done that in front of the whole class, I’d never live it down.
I let out a low moan, trying to stay as quiet as I could. Mom and dad always told me not to push when I went, but that wasn't an option anymore. I needed this out of me, now. I found myself lifting my feet to tippy toes and spreading my legs wide as I pushed with everything I had, face scrunching and an ugly, guttural grunt of force ripping out of me.
The thought never occured to me that spreading my legs like this might be making it more difficult to poop. It just felt right, in a way I couldn't understand. I didn't hold back, bearing down, and I felt something moving inside me. My eyes went wide as the tone of my grunt changed, feeling some mass deep inside starting to barrel through me. It was huge… stretching me… it hurt so bad, this was a nightmare, but I couldn't stop pushing!
There was so much pressure. I could barely breathe, this thing was giant! I had a little time to try to gather myself between cramps, but I could feel the next brewing. God. What has happening to me? Was I… dying? Was I gonna pass away sitting on the toilet like some rock star my parents would tell me about?!
Oh fuck, I needed to push again! This proved it, I was dying, I could feel it. My insides were coming right out of me, it was way too big, like my whole uterus was just sliding down my vagina! The pain was unimaginable, my vision was blurring, I couldn't breathe. That deep, primal grunt was forcing out of me again, I couldn't stop it, couldn't be quiet if I tried.
I felt a hideous pressure just behind my crotch as the cramping ended. I reached down, touched, and was horrified my what my fingertips found. It was all so hard, straining forward, the whole shape of my most intimate place was changed grotesquely. I thought I was using the bathroom??? What the hell was happening to me?!
Sweat dripped from my face, tears mingling with it. Everything was just hurting and straining and changing, this wasn't right, wasn't fair. I cursed my Dad for doing this to me, still believing this was somehow the fault of dinner. Some horrific indigestion. I couldn't imagine what else this could possibly be, what other nightmare I could be enduring right now.
Another horrific cramp came, and I gave into my instincts completely. There was no choice in the matter, not anymore. My body was doing this on its own, and I tried to make peace with myself, accept that my heart was about to slide out of my own vagina somehow. It must be some kind of curse, I knew I shouldn't have been so mean to the home ec teacher, everyone knew she was some kind of witch and-
The pain was so bad! My teeth were grit as I pushed. My hand hadn’t moved, so I could feel my lips starting to spread. It burned, more and more, as my organs finally began to peek out of my privates. I could feel it under my fingers. Wet, slimy. Disgusting. And… hairy? My heart wasn't hairy? Or my uterus. This didn't make any sense. I couldn't understand it.
I didn't have long to think. I opened wider. Wider. The thing emerging from inside me was so big, I felt like it was about to split me in two. I couldn't fight it, my body was following some deep, primal instinct and there was no chance I could fight this need off. It was coming out. I felt the hairy mass open me so far, my poor vagina burning like it was on fire, until I felt a weird wrinkle of flesh… almost like an… ear? Or a… nose… oh god…
Suddenly a rush of motion, and I groaned, sagging back. Fluid poured out of me and into the toilet. Something slimy, coated with my juices, was hanging between my thighs, touching them. I held my legs as wide as I could, repulsed by the sensation. I couldn't see what it was under my skirt, and I didn't want to move it to look, terrified of what it would be. The word “cryptic” kept blinking in my mind, like some kind of alarm I couldn't find the button to turn off. Important, yet completely meaningless.
I gripped the toilet. My insides were flexing. I could feel this mass turning inside me. It felt so wrong, somehow completely different than everything leading to this moment. I just tried to hold on, to let this happen, not break down in sobs of terror and pain. I just wanted this over with, I barely even cared if I died now.
God. It was back. I had to push again. I had to push so bad, I was already doing it before I realized I had to. Somehow this bit was even bigger… but it was moving. Coming out. I could feel I was close. Right on the cusp of the end, just this last… big… puuushhh!!!
Something happened. The rest of the thing, I could only describe it as slithering out of me in a rush of slippery, slimy skin. It fell into the toilet, as I sat, panting, vision blurring, trying to make myself think. To start being a person again, something more than just a glorified ball of base instincts and pain and fear.
Hesitantly, I leaned forward. Pulled my skirt back, looking down. As it came into view, my brain finally realized what that word “cryptic” had to do with any of this.
We talked about it in health class. One of the girls had heard about it from some relative. A cryptic pregnancy was when your belly barely grew, if at all, and there were few to no definitive symptoms that you were growing a life inside you. It was possible to carry a baby to term and even give birth without realizing you were pregnant.
The newborn baby, still connected to me by the umbilical cord hanging out from between my legs, started to cry.
A ragged breath rips from her throat as she rolls her head forward, grunting softly as her next contraction begins to build. Her legs are spread for you, thighs trembling wildly on either side of the bulge of her cunt. No head is visible yet, but her lips begin to gape and spread as her grunts evolve into a small roar, fluid leaking from her hole as she pushes in earnest.
"Ohhhhh," she groans, half delirious. "Oh, its- OH. It's comingggg." Her nails dig into the flesh of her thigh, face screwed up with effort as she pulls her leg further back. Her cunt bulges obscenely around the emerging head and more fluid leaks from her vagina, coating your fingers in slick as you reach forward to slide the pads of them over her folds. The skin is red, hot to the touch, and she whimpers as she thrusts her hips forward.
"Coming," she repeats, vouce clear with intent. And yes, yes it is. Her labia part as she shrieks with effort, exposing the smallest sliver of wet, dark hair. "I- I'm pushing. I'm pushing! I can't stoppppp."
Despite the bulge of the head in her canal, the crown of which has spread her labia to the point of turning her soft folds bloodless and white (oh, the burn must be delicious, if her cries tell you anything about the sensations she's experiencing), her shaking thighs attempt to snap shut, trapping your hand against her cunt. "Mmmmmphhh!" Her chin hits her chest as she pushes again, grinding her sore and swollen clit against your fingers. "'S it- can you- fuck! Oh, fuck. I need it ouuuuuuut."
The vice grip in her belly releases, the sides of it heaving around the shape of the child as she struggles to catch her breath. "So low," she moans quietly, comtinuing to rock her hips. "God, the stretch-."
And... well, fuck. The stretch. The burn. The teardrop shape playing peekaboo behind her lips. You brush your thumb over her clit, inhaling sharply as she whimpers in a way that let's you know she's preparing to push. "Ohhhh, its gonna come. Its coming. Its-." Her words break off rapidly, and the only sound that escapes her is a wild scream as the head surges forward. She makes an attempt to twist away from you, thighs clamped tightly around your hand as she shrieks and struggles to hold the child in.
"MMMMM, FUCK. BURNINGGGG!"
You press against the bulge of her crown, applying the smallest hint of pressure. With a small hiss, she forces her eyes open and turns to you, panting sharply as the child continues its descent. Her eyes are wild and wet with tears, and you appease her with a gentle smile and a soft kiss as you shift closer to pry her legs back open.
Completely naked, spread, and exposed, she hisses and struggles to no avail. The child sits at half crown; her clit is hard and pulsing against the ridge of its skull, and her labia are shiny with amniotic fluid and what you know to be her own arousal. Maybe you'll have a taste, you muse.
As her belly tightens once more and a groan builds in her throat, you shift your hand just slightly to completely cover her rapidly spreading hole. "Oh, you really can't stop, can you baby?" you croon, experiencing a jolt of arousal as the head surges forward against your hand. "Pushing like that? So... uncontrolled?"
"Get it out," she pleads. "I-holy FUCK, I need it out."
You wait a beat. Feel her push. Feel the head slip further out (nearly to the brow bone that time; you can hear the little noises she makes when it grinds against a sweet spot inside) and feel it retreat. Feel her go limp as she slumps back against the edge of the bed behind her, legs falling open as the bulge has become too prominent to deny.
"Oh, baby girl," you murmur, giving her clit one last gentle stroke to invoke a sleepy smile in return. She must think she's close. Poor thing. The size of the head, as well as the yet unseen shoulders, would disagree. "Is it starting up again?"
"Mhm." Roughly 15 seconds later, she hums again, reaching down to pull her legs back once more. "Mmmmm, here it comes. Oh, its gonna be out soon."
You beg to differ, but you don't dare tell her so.
Another push begins with a ragged scream that rises from the depth of her chest. "ffffFFFFUCK GET IT OUT. I WANT IT OUT."
"Then push," you command. "Be a good girl, and push."
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
2087
romaincrisis
