listen, I know this is literally a pregnancy fetish blog, but I am very staunchly PRO-ABORTION,PRO-CHOICE. Pro-lifers please unfollow me

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AnasAbdin
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@mpregxiled
listen, I know this is literally a pregnancy fetish blog, but I am very staunchly PRO-ABORTION,PRO-CHOICE. Pro-lifers please unfollow me
One of the two fills completed during today's stream! Clyde from Sarah Jane Adventures, WG+Mpreg.
The other is in the drive!
Thanks to those who came to keep me company!
MAYTERNITY DAY 7: SIZE DIFFERENCE
Big, beefy, hairy trans guy getting severely knocked up by his beautiful, delicate trans girlfriend.
At the baby shower she’s the one who’s glowing and cutely dressed and opening all the gifts, while he sits next to her with his shirt unbuttoned and his kicky, furred belly bulging onto the chair between his thighs. She spends the whole party laying her hands on it and rubbing the tight, stretch-marked surface, because after all, it’s hers 🥰
Also there should be a party game where guests write on his belly how many babies they think she put in him. In the birth scrapbook, there’s a picture of his 7 month pregnant gut with numbers littering it that predict anywhere from triplets to sextuplets—and next to it is a photo of him leaning heavily on a counter with a massive full term torpedo belly weighing him down, labeled “Daddy in labor with the 9lb and 10lb twins” 🥰
Pregnancy as humiliation
Lately I've been thinking about my pregnancy being used by my breeder to humiliate me...
Making me wear the tightest clothes to show off my growing belly and tits. Not just in public for everyone to see, but around the house too so there's never any hiding it. Make me wear low-cut tops to show off my swollen boobs. My tits start leaking milk in public and you don't let me pump, making me walk around with a stained shirt for everyone to see. Keeping a hand on my belly at all times and showing me off, bragging about getting me pregnant and letting everyone know YOU knocked me up and made me huge like this, embarrassing me. Let people go ahead and touch and rub my belly, invite them to do so without letting me say no. Show how you have claimed me.
Stealth tguy on a first date who didn’t go to any trouble to conceal his pregnant belly because strangers usually just think he’s fat (vs) the date who has a huge pregnancy fetish and spends the entire dinner preoccupied by how this guy’s beer gut and outie navel make him look pregnant
The train lurches and I nearly lose my balance.
I catch myself against the pole with a sharp breath, both hands gripping the cold metal while my belly drags heavily forward beneath the thick pullover I'm wearing. The movement makes my babies shift all at once inside me. Dense rolling pressure under impossibly stretched skin, bodies pressing against bodies, nowhere left for them to go.
I grab the pole hard enough that my wrist aches.
My pullover has ridden up almost to the curve of my navel again.
I yank it down instantly, heart pounding, but the fabric only clings tighter across the enormous shape underneath. There's no disguising it anymore. The sweater outlines everything - the impossible roundness, the stretched-tight mass, even the uneven movements shifting beneath my skin.
I can feel people noticing.
I keep my head down.
Please don't look at me.
Another painful roll moves through my belly. One baby drags heavily across my side while another pushes low enough to make my breath catch. The pressure inside me is unbearable now, packed so tightly that every movement feels trapped beneath my skin.
My whole stomach visibly ripples.
I clamp a hand under my belly, rubbing the sensitive skin under my sweater like I can calm them, calm myself, calm the awful pressure dragging lower and lower inside me.
God, I'm so full.
Too full. Too swollen. Too obvious.
The train windows throw my reflection back at me in dark smears between station lights: flushed face, hunched shoulders, both hands cradling a belly so huge it dominates the rest of my body completely. I look indecent. Like something private exposed under fluorescent lights.
A contraction starts low in my back.
Fuck.
The tightness spreads through my abdomen with brutal force, pulling my stomach hard and high until it becomes almost perfectly round beneath the sweater. I gasp softly and lean into the pole before I can stop myself.
Please not now.
The babies react immediately.
They're squirming inside of me during the contraction, heavy movement trapped inside the rigid tightness of my body. One presses outward so sharply near my ribs that I actually see the bulge through the wool.
Someone nearby notices. I hear the sharp inhale.
Humiliation crashes through me so hard my eyes sting.
I rub my belly faster now, desperate circles beneath the strained underside, trying to ease the crushing downward pressure between my small hips. My legs are trembling. I can feel how low they are now - all that weight pressing into my pelvis with terrifying insistence.
I just need to make it home. I just need to hold them in.
Then suddenly there's a body behind me. A man.
Too close.
Before I can move, a big hand slides around my side and cups the underside of my pulsing belly.
I freeze in horror.
His palm spreads beneath the huge weight almost possessively, fingers pressing deep into the oversensitive underside where I've been rubbing myself raw for weeks trying to relieve the strain.
“Oh wow,” he says quietly behind me. “You're ready to pop, hm? ”
Heat floods my entire face.
I try to pull away instinctively, but another contraction hits at the exact same moment and my body folds helplessly instead, a broken sound escaping my throat.
His hand tightens.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “You're so ripe.”
My belly clenches rock hard beneath both our hands.
The babies shove violently during the contraction, trapped movement rolling visibly across the front of my stomach. My pullover lifts higher again as I arch involuntarily, exposing the full strained curve of my belly to everyone nearby.
I hear someone whisper.
I want to cry.
But the man behind me doesn't move away.
His other hand settles over the front of my aching stomach, broad palm spread over the tightest part like he's testing the firmness of it. Then he starts rubbing slowly downward over the curve while I stand there shaking against the pole, whimpering quietly.
“Easy,” he says near my ear. “Everyone's noticing. ”
I can barely breathe from shame.
His hands are everywhere now - under the belly, across the front, massaging the tight stretched skin while strangers pretend not to stare. My body betrays me completely by responding to the relief. The upward support eases the dragging agony in my back enough that my knees nearly buckle.
“Oh my God,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
He chuckles softly behind me.
“They're really lively.”
And they are.
The babies roll heavily beneath his hands as though reacting to the pressure. One pushes outward in a slow hard sweep across the front of my stomach, visibly distorting the sweater. Another drives down low enough to make me gasp and widen my legs for balance.
I feel overwhelmed. Animalistic. Insane.
The man keeps rubbing my belly like it belongs to him now.
“So round,” he murmurs. “Must be ready to burst.”
The words hit me like a slap.
Because that's exactly how I feel.
My stomach feels stretched beyond endurance, skin tight and aching over too much life packed inside me. Every contraction squeezes the babies downward harder, and every movement inside me feels lower now, heavier, unbearably urgent.
I'm breathing too fast.
The train rocks again and I clutch the pole desperately while his hands continue roaming over the massive curve of my belly in full view of everyone.
I can't hide it anymore.
soft squish - self-tie from november 2022
he went to the beach that makes you pregnant
Commission for a player in my campaign that FIENDS over Remonet as an NPC. I made an mpreg version with their permission, and they went insane over it so YIPPEE
You can find it on my bsky!
I don't know how to say this. I don't know if it is even appropriate for me to mention it, especially here. But here I am. I will attempt to do so anyway.
A dear friend of mine, author and artist in the community, Roji, also known here currently as "My-tummy-hurts"
Has passed away, as of April 8th, 2026.
They were one of my oldest friends. They had a lot they wanted to explore and create. So much they wanted to do. They were so explosively creative and had such wild ideas.
I apologize if this is not terribly eloquent. I only just found out, such is the nature of internet friendship. But the idea of that real person, that creativity, my friend, just... Disappearing. With nobody that enjoyed their art, their passions, knowing what actually happened. Is an ugly part of our current reality I am not content to allow while I can do something about it.
They talked with me, supported me, through the start of my career, writing in a friend's basement. Some of their early stories were what made me want to begin writing in the first place. Without Roji, I might not have ever been here, creating stories for people to enjoy.
We stayed in touch through moving to another state to find love. Through the soul obliterating covid/burnout/dropout/divorce breakdown combo. They were always there. Another story idea, another amazing piece of art, another project to work on, build, create, another skill they wanted to master. Endlessly creative.
It is tragic they never got to share the things they wanted to with you all. They made models and props, they wrote plays for their local theatre, they sculpted and worked with so many materials and models.
They were a truly amazing person. All I can think to say, over and over, is how creative and imaginative and caring they were.
I am going to miss you, Roji. I already do. So, so fucking much. I'm sorry I couldn't do more.
May you find whatever peace you sought, my dear friend.
sir harper doodle from a while ago colored by an awesome and sweet anonymous :)))
Hmmm, scratches chin...what if Ignis trying his best to be as composed as possible as his body his being wracked with labor...the urge to push overwhelming him even as he knows he has to wait a bit longer...and of course during all this he's just absolutely massive...poor guy UwU
-L 💜
Poor guy indeed, especially when it's a werewolf baby
Or uh, litter
Hinata time skip???
God I need to use this place more. As an apology here’s a commission I drew for JustAmbitious ;3
A regular guy who turns into a strange, furless creature during the day. Odie is a tabletop game fan and loves to read, despite his hulking appearance most of the time.
He was playing a game of Ultimate Werewolf one day and things got too serious, he survived with a gunshot wound to his chest