okay i cant stop thinking about this. opening your brand new android's box and pulling out this very basic doll and a wide variety of maternity and non-maternity clothes, booting up the android and setting it up to be 42 weeks with triplets, tits swollen like water balloons, already in labor. you give her a stuttering, shy, clueless personality preset. she wakes up in discomfort and you tell her you're her new owner and you have such a fun day planned.
you take her to the bedroom and lay out fifteen different outfits and tell her you want to see her try on each one. you leave her to don the first and go sit out in the living room, waiting to be shown. every outfit she comes out with and shows off, you raise her cervix dilation by another centimeter in the new app on your phone.
she's sooo embarrassed for the first few but can clearly handle it. the outfits get skimpier and more ill-fitting the further she goes, and by the time she comes out in her first cropped tee, she's sweating and can't stop squirming. she reaches ten centimeters by the seventh outfit and you trigger the urge to push through the app, but tell her she still has eight more outfits left to go, and she doesn't want to let you down on her first day here so she forces herself. she comes back out in a cropped tank and shorts that are clearly not meant for anyone past a few months of pregnancy, and her thighs are clamped together as she tries to hold everything in. her tits spill out of the little shirt. she's whimpering, but she shows off as instructed. you look at the x-ray cut on your app and see the first baby settled halfway down her birth canal despite the fact that she isn't actively pushing with it. you send her back for another.
the next one is similar, another cropped tank that's tighter this time and a pair of leggings that match. her tits are cut into by the tight fabric and you can see the outline of her huge areolas and half-erect nipples. her exposed belly visibly contorts with each contraction, its shape going from rounded and soft and distended in a torpedo shape to tall and misshapen, contorting around the shapes of the three 'babies' within. her eyes are watering now, and you tell her to bend over at the waist. through the leggings you can see a bulge starting at her crotch where her perineum is pushed out by the heavy, descending weight, her opening not yet stretching to permit the baby's exit. you tell her to squat, and she does, but you can tell it makes the urgency so much stronger. you can see her fight not to push, thighs spreading and trembling, and she starts letting out little grunts. alright, you tell her, time for the next outfit.
the next is a one-piece swimsuit, just shy of being opaque enough to conceal everything beneath. you tell her to squat again, and this time, she shakes her head tearfully and refuses, thighs pinned together in an attempt to block everything, keep it inside until she's done what you asked and tried on every outfit. you get up and take her by the shoulders, forcefully guiding her, and sit her on the couch. you force her thighs apart and she can't help it, grunting low in her throat with animalistic fervor as she fights her body's urges, though she can't help but give in and push in little bursts. you see the mound of her pussy swell and recede over and over again behind the crotch of her swimsuit. she pulls her legs up, spread wide on the cushions, and you pull the material aside to reveal a thick bush of synthetic hair and the first glimpse of a shiny head belonging to a faux baby android. you decide to play with her a little, taking her distress into extreme overstimulation. you rub the pad of your thumb over her clit, squeeze her swollen breasts and press at her enormous belly. she writhes in place, torn between the discomfort and pressure and urgency, and the heat and overload on her circuits.
finally, she gives in and pushes, and you don't tell her to stop. for almost thirty minutes she grunts low and pushes until the head is halfway to a crown. you've set her pushing to extreme difficulty mode, and it shows. her face goes blotchy and red, tendons show in her neck, and a synthetic vein stands out on her forehead as she pushes with all her might. what's happening to me, she asks you, innocent and fearful. she says she can't help it, she has to, it's so strong, and there's so much pressure. you tell her you know how to help that. you cup a palm over her spreading pussy and with the heel of your palm, you press the baby back inside. she writhes and squirms at the wrongness of it, but she lets you, because you know best. she's just a droid. when it's so deep inside again that you can't push it any further without sticking fingers inside of her, you stop. there, you tell her, it's back where it belongs for now. time to go and change into the next outfit. hurry back out! if it happens again, you know what to do to hold it off for a little longer.
