I (a trans man) would love to get knocked up by a werewolf or dog-like creature. I would be huge to the point where I would have at least 9-10 pups all wriggling around and ugh…💖
oh I bet you would look so good with a huge litter of pups, so swollen and heavy that you can barely move beneath your overburdened belly. Each werewolf pup is huge on its own, and with nearly a dozen of them filling up your tummy, you look due with triplets only half way through your pregnancy. They're constantly writhing inside, growing faster than any human babies usually would, making you swell at a rapid pace. In only a few short months you're ready to whelp, pinned beneath the giant orb of massive wriggling pups, all eager and fighting each other to exit your womb first. Each one feels like it takes an eternity to push out, stretching you to your very limit and making you scream around their shifting forms as you desperately push. It takes several long, agonizing hours for each pup to be born. Finally the last and biggest one to slips through your battered hole and your belly is empty, but not for long. Moments after your pups find your teats and begin to suckle, your mate is upon your exhausted body, easily stuffing his thick knot into your tender womb and filling you with your next litter
I’ve been fantasizing about some potential evolutionary reasons for superfetation and prolonged pregnancy. An idea came to me while I was getting off in the shower, hands frantically rubbing myself to slickness.
—————
What if you were a breeder, bred by someone who wasn’t supposed to have you? They just couldn’t resist your sweet clench when you ripened into an adult, fully responsible for your own unwitting actions. Your guardian had wanted to preserve your innocence for his own selfish reasons, but when he left you on your own for a year while he had to work abroad, he didn’t realize he was leaving you unguarded. You were unaware of the potential consequences of sex, of letting them come inside you bare.
As your belly swells with your litter, you are confused by the changes and ask the one who bred you for advice. Their eyes gleam with lust as they breed you all over again, even though they know it won’t take. They tell you that you’re fine, but not to tell anyone else what is happening or how you got so swollen and heavy. You’re told you’re just getting fat.
…
8 months in, you’re huge and waddling with your gravid womb. The babies inside are big and active, making it obvious to anyone who looks at you that you’re well and truly knocked up. As you are laying on the couch, hands pressed to the taut skin underneath your silky robe, vainly trying to get your belly to calm down. You’re still wondering what’s happening inside you… when your Daddy returns. Still standing in the doorway, bags in hand, he takes one look at you and sees red.
You clamber up as fast as your encumbered figure will allow, straightening with great effort against the heft of your roundness. You waddle to him as fast as you can, one hand supporting the vast underside of your womb and then throw your arms around him in a big hug. You feel strange with your torso turned to the side so that you can reach him. The angle presses your swell into his muscled abdomen in a striking contrast to your softness.
He reaches his arms around you and heaves you up into his arms, carrying you into his bedroom. You look around in confusion, having never been in here before. He deposits you on the center of his large bed, jostling the litter inside you. You groan and curl around your belly. He still hasn’t said anything.
As your belly calms, you keep stroking it gently and look up at him in question. “What’s going on? Why do you look angry? I’m so happy you’re back early! But why are we in here, Daddy?
His nostrils flare and instead of answering, he asks, “Who did this to you? Who did you let breed you?” He keeps staring at you intently, gaze inexorably drawn to where your soft hands are gently soothing your full womb. His face flushes in anger and arousal. Arousal at finally seeing you bred like you were always meant to be, anger at knowing that someone else snuck inside you and stole his breeding rights from him. You were intended to be his breeder and his alone, always full and happy to be growing his babies.
“What do you mean? Nobody bred me, Daddy. I’m just getting fat. Do you think I’m not pretty anymore?” You weren’t sure what to think about how active your belly was at this point, but you didn’t want to get in trouble, so you stuck to the line you’d been told to say months ago.
He starts ripping his clothes off, still breathing hard. “You’re perfect, baby, but someone definitely got their cock in your pretty little hole. You look like you should have been pushing that baby out weeks ago!” He prowls over you on the bed, tugging your skimpy robe open. The fabric falls away and your tender chest, massive belly, and sensitive groin are exposed to the cool air.
“What are you doing, Daddy?” You ask, eyes fixed on his swinging cock, drooling precum onto your plump thigh.
“I’m going to fix this, baby, and claim you like I should have before I left. That belly should be full of my baby, not whatever thief talked his way in between your legs.” He pressed your thighs open with his big, rough hands as he spoke. Eyes drifting from your round womb to your opening.
You cry out in surprise and pleasure when his lips suckle you, bringing blood to the surface and heating your skin. You feel yourself growing slick, the constant low-grade arousal of being so full flaring at his attentions. You thread your fingers in his hair, directing him where you want while his thick fingers stretch you out. When he’s satisfied, he slides up your body. Your belly keeps him from reaching you easily but he still manages to ravenously kiss you as his cock spreads you open farther than you ever thought possible. He’s so deep inside you that you feel the crown of his dick spread something tightly clenched inside of you open just a fraction.
He sits up on his knees, lifts you up and flips you around before slamming you down on his shaft again, thighs splayed open on either side of his spread knees. Your belly hangs down heavily and starts to bounce painfully as he thrusts into you from below. You whimper and he quickly moves a strong arm to support your gravid belly and the other to pinch your nipples.
“Ah! Ah! Daddy why? Ugh it feels so good but it’s so much! I can’t take it! I’m feeling… something is happening in me! Daddy please!!” You writhe on his cock as he holds you firmly seated, hole spread wide as he grinds into you and floods you with come.
“You’re mine! Your hole is mine, your womb is mine. I’m going to get you so pregnant, breed you so good and so full you’ll never look at another man.” He grits out the words as you spasm around him, coming hard and leaking from your nipples a bit, hardly noticing in your haze.
…
The next few months are filled with nearly constant breeding whenever you’re home together. You’ve only gotten bigger. There’s no denying that you are hugely pregnant and overdue by months and months.
“Why haven’t the babies come yet?” You pant to your Daddy as he comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth one day. You’re laying on your side, drenched in come, belly so big you can’t breathe when you lay on your back. You clutch yourself but come nowhere near the part of your belly that’s currently bulging out painfully with the head of one of the offspring inside you. He presses his hand into the bulge until the baby shifts into a more comfortable position.
As he wipes you down, he explains “Your first babies are waiting for ours to catch up. They all need to be born at the same time, so it’s safe. The older ones don’t keep growing as fast once you get pregnant again.”
What he doesn’t mention is that breeders are built this way to maximize the number of litters they have. The same person can’t knock them up while they’re already gravid, but a new one can succeed. To keep whichever man who has possession of the pregnant breeder when they give birth from snuffing out the offspring that don’t belong to them, the breeder stays pregnant with all litters until the babies are theoretically indistinguishable. This also maximizes the genetic diversity of their offspring, so breeders are predisposed to enjoying new partners while already bred and heavy.
What neither of you realize is that even though your second litter is almost ready to pop, a powerful friend of your Daddy’s from out of town will be visiting soon. Daddy owes him a big favor… and your womb is what he’ll want.
When he arrives, you think you’re as big as you can physically get, with six or seven full term and overdue babies stretching you out, almost two years pregnant. You will soon find out that you can get much, much bigger.
Luckily for you and your Daddy, your womb is very accommodating and subconsciously, you’ve never been happier than when you are stuck in bed, powerless to do anything but gestate.
Your Daddy’s friend breeds you well for a whole weekend while your daddy listens jealously from downstairs. You are a bit sad to see the big man go, as he had wonderfully talented hands. You’re even more dismayed when your Daddy is right and you keep growing even more pregnant. You can’t believe you have another nine months to go… again.
When you finally give birth, you push for days, cumming violently each time you crown. You swear off cock forever afterwards. Your belly flattens out and your tits swell with milk for all the babies. The powerful man takes a few to raise and the first man who bred you takes a few as well, as you’d eventually fessed up to your Daddy who had taken your virginity.
Three months later, you’ve already forgotten your promise to yourself and you’re moaning as your Daddy comes straight into your fertile womb.
You almost hope his friend wants to visit again when you’re almost ready to pop. You’re secretly, but not subtly, delighted when he arrives two weeks before you’re due to birth your next batch. You’re going to be well bred for a long, long time. Just the way you like it.
a breeder boy for the gods whose role is to produce as many demigods as possible to inhabit the mortal world, blessed/cursed by the fertility gods to be fertile at all times, even while already pregnant
a different god breeds him every day, and every day, a new child begins to grow inside his womb. though, with his predisposition to bear multiples even before the fertility spell, it's more accurate to say that every day, a new litter makes its home in his belly.
since his role as breeding boy is so important and his irresistible beauty makes it impossible for the gods to stay off him, it's not quite possible for him to take a break as he's got a lifetime's worth of pregnancies inside - hundreds of offspring in his bulging fertile belly at all times, more being added to the warmth of his womb every day
who knows, maybe the gods will decide they wanna keep him this way forever and grant him immortality as a new fertility god uwu
I'm picturing being an incubus, with a classic demonic look with red skin, black horns, gold eyes, all complimenting my hairy, burly body. I fuck a human man, and I'm enjoying myself so much, I don't think anything of it when he slips his cock inside my pussy. I'm not thinking about anything at all until I feel his hot seed spurting inside me, realizing all at once and all too late that he's impregnating me. By the time I've climbed off of him, I can already feel his sperm fertilizing my eggs, taking root inside of me and developing into what will be our babies.
My clawed hands clutch at my muscled abdomen, which is growing softer with fat and rounding out with young. I watch as I start showing almost immediately, the fact I'm carrying this man's babies in my demonic womb becoming more and more apparent. I look and see the smug look on his face as he watches me grow his litter, his rough hand sprawling over my swelling middle and feeling it grow, all because of him, because of the babies he decided to grow inside of me. My firm pecs swell into fat daddy milkers, filling with milk to feed the countless babies now squirming around inside of me.
Between the humiliation and the hormones, I'm becoming ravenously horny, and I end up letting him fuck me again. He rubs my growing daddy belly the entire time, more than proud of himself for what he's done to me. I don't think I can get more pregnant, but I realize how wrong I am when my belly grows even faster moments after he cums in me once again. My belly button pops out, and I watch in aroused horror as I continue growing to a massive size.
Despite myself, I can't resist letting him fuck me over and over. I keep getting bigger and bigger, until the only way for him to even slide inside of me is from behind, eventually with me resting solely on my gigantic belly. I groan, in disbelief at how big I'm getting, wondering how I could possibly get any bigger as he continues pumping more loads into me.
When my water finally breaks, I hardly have to push before the babies practically pop out of me, one after another, the pressure in my womb so great that they're coming out by the dozens. When they finally slow down, the man who fathered the babies squirting out of me decides to fill me up even more. I'm stuck, swelling, breeding, birthing, and milking, with no end in sight.
You’re a breeder for your pack, always carrying large litters. You have the ability to be bred multiple times in the same pregnancy. As each litter matures, you birth that brood while the rest stay in your full womb.
The pack alpha has complete instinctual control over your body and the offspring inside of you. Until now, that is a power that never impacted you. You are pregnant several times over, on the cusp of either birth or immobility, whichever comes first when the alpha decrees that the pack is in too much danger to risk new pups. You are not allowed to give birth.
The pups keep growing inside of you. They stretch you out and weigh you down. Quickly, you reach the point at which you can’t walk with a straight back. Instead, you waddle with both arms clutching at the underside of your overdue womb. You feel pressure in your pelvis but your body listens to your alpha and keeps your womb from dropping.
After some time, you lose the ability to walk at all. You have a rotating shift of attendants to help you get around. They’ll let you put your arm around their shoulders while they wrap muscular arms around your massive swell. Months into this, you are visited by your pack leader.
You’re on your bed, stroking your belly in a vain effort to calm the teeming of the now fully overdue sets of babies inside. You are also vainly attempting to stroke yourself to orgasm but are nearly in tears of frustration as you fail to reach.
Seeing your distress, your alpha comes inside and soothes your overstuffed womb. Even he can hardly reach halfway around. The pups calm at his command. He lowers his heads and suckles at you before dipping his head between your thighs to pleasure you.
Before long, you’ve come and come and come and are begging for more. Begging to give birth, begging for him to thrust himself inside you and fill you up even more. He rolls you onto your enormous belly, riling up the numerous offspring inside, as he kneels between your legs and spreads you open with his cock. You’re still gasping and grasping onto your womb as he begins fulfilling your request to fill you up.
You’re so incredibly pregnant that you can hardly move… but when his knot locks in place and his cum fills you up, ensuring that another litter will soon begin stretching you to colossal proportions… your tears are filled with arousal as much as shock.
Birth is still not allowed, but your mind has fractured a bit from being so full and bed bound that you let the other males start breeding you again too. You’re going to be the biggest breeder there ever was if the alpha doesn’t decide the pack is a safe place for new litters to be born soon. Either way, your womb will always be full.
Imagine you're a prince. You are sneaking out to see your stable boy, horny as hell and needing to get his dick in your boycunt. You've been seeing him for just over a year after being thrown from your horse and requiring him to carry you back to the castle. He fucks you hard into his rough bed, panting and grunting.
"Gonna fill you up, your highness," he whispers into your ear. "What will the kingdom do when they find out their precious prince is such as slut for my cock." You're barely coherent at this point, only managing to drool and moan into the bed. Not even thinking about the consequences as you feel him cum deep into your cunt.
Twelve weeks later, sees you cupping the barely present bump of the baby in your womb. You go to your stable boy in a panic. But, as soon as you tell him, you find yourself pinned to the bed being fucked with him running his hands all over your distended belly.
Your belly continues to swell as the pregnancy progresses; at three months in, you're called into the King's room, and he decrees, you must find yourself a spouse to help provide the kingdom with heirs. You run crying to your stable boy; he pets your hair and fucks you gently. He can't stop himself from gently rubbing your swollen belly. He pinches your nipples, they're still sore from rubbing against your tunic, and you whine softly.
"Can't wait till these fill up too," he says, massaging your tits. He continues to slowly drag his cock in and out of your cunt, holding tightly to your hips as he rocks into you.
The King enters the throne room and announces that he will use a ball to find you a spouse. The kingdom sends out invitations, and people are arriving within the month. You greet every one of them as each kingdom, dukedom, and everything in between introduces their progeny. Unfortunately, none of the potential spouses catches your eye, and you find yourself daydreaming of your stable boy feeling his cum dribbling out of your pussy from your earlier encounter.
The week of the ball arrives, and your clothes, which were custom ordered two weeks ago, no longer fit. The suit is tight against your stomach, and your tailor sighs as he prepares to let it out again. You feel your cheeks heat up and look away. It was getting harder and harder to pass off this pregnancy as weight gain. Your pussy is dripping in your pants as your hormones drive you wild, and you can't wait to be done here and find your stable boy to fuck your cunt hard.
It's the day of the ball, and they're short of staff; the footman comes down with a strange case of food poisoning, and the staff calls in your stable boy to fill in the extra space. You see him milling around the room, deftly avoiding the dancers. Even though he isn't looking at you, you can tell he is watching you as you rest your hand on your belly. You can't seem to keep your hands off it these days.
You see him tap a young woman on the shoulder and leans to whisper something in her ear. He looks towards you and winks your cunt clenches. They depart the dance floor and make their way to the edge of the room.
The stable boy leaves as the woman makes her way up to the King. She introduces herself as the queen of a neighbouring kingdom and discusses the politics of joining your domains. The King readily agrees, and you find yourself engaged to her.
Your stable boy finds you later, and you sneak out of your quarters. Rather than going your typical track, he takes you to the guest quarters. You're confused but follow him anyway, and you wind up in front of a guests room. You're about to demand him to take you back to your room when he knocks on the door. You freeze till the door opens, and you see the face of your now-fiancee. She tugs you both into the room and shuts the door behind you.
You find yourself on her bed as she runs her hands over your distended belly; you try to sit up, but your stable boy comes and presses you back into the bed.
"I hear a little prince has been naughty," She says while unbuttoning your tunic. "Whoring around with the stable boy." You squirm under her fingers as her hands find their way to your swollen tits. When you're left naked on her bed, she pulls her girlcock out and sits back to stroke it a few times. Your stable boy manoeuvres you on top of her, lining you up before lowering you onto her cock. She strokes your belly as you fuck yourself on her girlcock, desperately bouncing up and down trying to come.
"As soon as you give birth to this baby, I'm going to put another in your belly." She pants with her head thrown back onto the pillows. "And another after that." You whine at the thought of being her broodmare.
Shortly after, you've been whisked away to her kingdom, with the stable boy coming as a member of the queen's staff. You spend the rest of your days being fucked by them as their broodmare, swelling up over and over.
“My nipples hurt,” Zac groans, rubbing the flat of his palm across his chest. I lean back on the couch, cramming for my Econ quiz immediately forgotten. “Do you want me to take a look?” Zac half-chuckles, but it doesn’t hide the wince. He never shows the pain he’s in, a fact that’s been true since we were in little league together. That little wince means not only is he in pain, he’s in a lot of pain. “Sounds like what you said the night we got into this house mess.” Zac and I became roommates at the beginning of the fall semester. It made sense; we played on the university baseball team together, hung out with each other practically every day, and shared more than a few late nights fondling and exploring each other’s cocks. It made logical sense that we’d advance to living together.
But becoming roommates only made the exploring become more frequent. Soon we were fucking. And sooner, I got him pregnant. A secret we’re keeping from everyone still. Coaches, parents, professors. My baby was growing in his belly and it was our dirty little secret. The thought alone was enough to make my dick twitch. “I promise,” I say, physically crossing my heart, “No funny business. Just let me take a look, maybe there’s something I can do.” Rarely there was anything I could actually do. It was typically Zac against his own body. It made me anxious; I knocked him up, so I wanted to be able to help carry the load. “Fine.” Zac conceded, coming to the couch. He flops down next to me and starts lifting his shirt up. “Just be careful, okay? Even the fabric of this shirt fucking hurts.”
“I’ve got you, baby,” I say. I take the shirt from his grip and finish pulling it over his head. Zac wasn’t very far along. It was hard to gauge exactly how long he’d been pregnant because of how frequently we fucked. Now that he seems to be in a constant state of uncomfortableness, it’s become fewer and far between. But also, somehow, much, much hotter. I put my hand on his little swell of a belly. Zac’s the smallest guy on the team, a short stop in every sense of the word. He’s hairless and smooth everywhere, and I can’t get enough of his skin. And his belly is perfect. A little pot of a thing, firm to the touch. Sometimes, when he’s sleeping or not in the mood, I fuck my hand to thoughts of his pregnant belly so full of my baby. “There he is,” I coo, instantly distracted from the task at hand. Zac rolls his eyes.
“There she is.” “How are you so sure it’s a girl, huh?” I tease. “She’s in my body! I know! Call it instinct or whatever!” His voice is irritated but he’s all smiles. When Zac first found out he was pregnant, it was terrifying. He even considered getting rid of it, something that would have been his choice, no matter how devastating to me. But he’s chosen to keep it—and me, the idiot who got him pregnant in the first place—and now he’s glowing. I want to kiss him but, right, nipples. Keeping a hand on his belly—because how can I not touch him?—I look up at his chest. His nipples are red and angry, erect on his pecs which have become softer and fuller in the last few weeks. “Damn, baby…” No wonder he’s in pain. “I know,” he whines, “I tried putting some Vaseline on them but they still burn. There’s just so much pressure.”
“That’s your milk coming in. Remember what the book said?” “I remember the stupid book.” He pouts, adorably. “But that doesn’t make them feel better!” I suddenly remember something else that book said. That wonderful, wonderful book. “I know I said no funny business, but wasn’t there something about stimulating them? To help ease production?” “Fuck, I’ll try anything.” Zac moves both of his hands to his new breasts and starts massaging them. He squeezes them, hissing at the apparent pain. Fuck me, my pants are becoming tighter by the second. “That’s right, baby. Just keep doing that.” “Aaron, I swear to God, you better not be getting off on this,” he snaps. “Who me?” I feign innocence.
“If you won’t let me help then you’re forcing me to watch. And you know I like watching you play with yourself.” That was the very first incident that started us on this long, sexy road. I forgot my keys in the locker room after a late game and when I went back in, found Zac stroking himself. He let me stay and watch, even letting me instruct him as he in tandem fucked his fingers. But watching never compared to actually being inside him. Zac whined, biting his lip. “Don’t say things like that.” “Why not? Does it make you hard? You playing with your nipples while I tell you how hot you are?” “I can’t be hard when it hurts like this.” “Then let me help, baby.” Zac looks at me, and I pray he sees the hunger in my eyes.
I could tear him apart, but instead I say, “I’ll be gentle.” Zac sighs, a sound laced with desperation. “Fine.” That’s all the consent I need. I move closer to him on the couch, reaching out to haul him and our baby into my lap. I replace his hands with my larger ones, continuing the circular, squeezing motion. They’re hot to the touch, a testament to their ache. I squeeze them, imagining them filling even more until I can’t hold them in my palm anymore. I want them to leak for me just like his cock does. I want to see the baby we made latched on and feeding. “Fuck, baby,” I groan, “You look so pretty on my lap with your growing tits.” “D-don’t call them that,” Zac scolds, but a soft moan betrays him. “You don’t like me pointing out that you have sweet little tits now? Look at how much they’ve plumped up.” Zac grumbles. “It’s all your fault.”
“Fuck yes, it’s my fault. It’s my fault your body is changing. I fucked you so good, I put a baby inside you. A baby that needs milk from right here.” I give his breasts a little tougher squeeze. “Aaron!” His head falls back. He’s panting. “Be-be careful!” “Shhh,” I lean forward, placing small kisses along his exposed collarbone. “Let Daddy take care of you, huh?” “Oh, fuck…” Zac’s hips jerked on my lap. I can see the outline of his stiff cock through his shorts. “Do you like it when I call myself ‘Daddy?’” I tease. “You like the little reminder I made you a Mommy?” “A-Aaron…” He moans again and I see a little stain of precum color his shorts. “I bet I can make you come in your pants, just from talking dirty and playing with your tits.” “No, you can’t.” Zac says firmly. Always my little brat.
“No? What about if I do this?” I trail my kisses through the valley between his breasts. Licking up the swell, I move my hand out of the way so I can suction my lips on his tiny, red nipple. I suck. Not hard, but just enough because I’m rewarded with his shaky cry. “AARON! F-fuck!” I kiss and suck until I eventually feel sad for the other one and move my attentions over. My hand, now free, cups him through his pants. I lift off his nipple just enough to say, “I wonder if I’ll get to taste your sweet milk before the baby does. I wonder if it tastes as sweet as your cum.” “Oh-oh, god, oh fuck—,” Zac activity humps into my hand. The urge to reach in and take his cock fully in my hand is so intense, but I know the satisfaction I’ll get from making him jizz his pants will be even greater.
“Are you going to come for me, baby? Come on, Daddy wants to lick Mommy’s cum off his untouched cock.” Zac cries out, one hand going to grab his belly with the intensity of his orgasm. The sight could tip me over the edge too. I wonder if the baby feels it as he rocks his hips through it. Zac whimpers and cries, body trembling. I give his budding breasts each a soft kiss then lay him down on the couch, shifting so that I’m hovering above him. “Do your nipples still hurt?” I ask, cocky. “Fuck you,” he pants. “Not tonight, baby, because tonight I’m going to fuck another baby into you.” I move down his body, licking the arch of his pregnant belly, nipping slightly at his bellybutton. It’s only days away from popping, I can feel it. The whole way down, Zac squirms and curses above me, his body still so sensitive. Slowly, I pull down the band of his shorts and underwear in one go and obediently go to clean up his delicious mess.
imagine if people with cocks could control their pheromones. In this world, sex with a partner is required to trigger labor, but the partner has all of the control as to what hormones they release, either delaying labor or starting it.
You’ve been pregnant for so incredibly long. Your belly is enormous and heavy and the babies are squirming constantly. You beg to give birth. Your breeder likes you just the way you are: filled and burdened with their litter of babies, desperate for relief.
Free use | dubcon? A lil bit | hyperpreg | permapreg | rapidpreg | extreme dehumanization | body altering magic | birth | large insertions
A pretty little cuntboy with smooth skin and golden hair is born to a poor family. When he comes of age, around 20 or so and is still unmarried and a drain on his families resources, he is sold. He goes kicking and screaming as the two men who bought him drag him away. He has no idea what will happen to him, but he knows it can’t be good.
It’s been two years since that day. He rarely thinks of his life before, since there’s too much to focus on in the now.
He’s been tied to this breeding rack for god knows how long. His legs are spread and tied apart, his back arched and pulled backwards to keep his front on display as much as his rear is. His hands and tied behind his back and have been for who knows how long. He’s blindfolded, making the sensations across his body amplified a hundred fold.
He’s so pregnant that when people look at him, a gasp of shock leaves their lips. How could someone be that full? His stomach isn’t close to reaching the floor, but in another two years it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.
His absolutely gravid belly hands below him, multiple babies kicking and squirming inside. The boy longs to rub his hands over his swollen middle, comfort his babies and give himself some relief from the cramps, but he doesn’t think he’ll have free use over his arms ever again.
A massive monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull is fucking into his pussy with his enormous cock, stretching his dripping, puffy cunt past what should be comfortable. But it’s very comfortable, even pleasurable. The boy hasn’t been able to stop cumming and squirting everywhere, his cries and moans filling the barn. And that cock still wasn’t the biggest he had ever taken.
The half-bull man pummels into him, the force of his thrusts jiggling the boys ass and thighs and creating new bruises. His poor cervix aches as the cock pushes against it, willing it to stretch open. It stays tight, determined to keep the 10 odd babies inside safe.
As soon as the half-bull shoots his load into the boys cunt, loading him up with yet another baby, he immediately slams into the boys gaping ass, able to sink in balls deep.
Cum drips from the boys pussy, collecting on the ground with his own squirt and the leftover cum of the other people who have fucked him.
This is what he does all day, everyday. He’s fed twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, but he’s never untied for it. Someone comes and pushes a tube into his mouth and makes him drink a thick, gross slurry, leaves, then comes back when he needs to be fed next. Of course, he’s usually fucked the entire time. The only time he’s ever really given a break from being fucked is when he’s birthing. Not even in sleep can he get away from it. Honestly, he doesn’t want to.
He can barely remember the start of this journey. The two men who had bought him had taken him far from his village, keeping him tied up in their covered wagon and fucking him when they got bored. That’s when he discovered how much of a slut he is.
Back in the village, he had been a virgin, saving himself for marriage. He had urges and desires, but he never acted on them. When that first man sunk his cock inside him, it broke something in his brain. Ever since then, he’s been aching to be stuffed as much as he can every second of every day. He can’t get enough.
When the two men and that perfect cuntboy got to their destination, the boy was tied up even tighter, blindfolded, and gagged. He was carried somewhere, presumably inside a house or another building, and set on what he guessed was a table.
People touched him all over, spreading his legs and shoving things in his holes, rubbing all over his body, tweaking his nipples and clit. Testing his reactions to any and all stimulation. They talked about him as if he weren’t human, just an object or animal. Something less than. It made him burn with a desire so great that when something finally satisfying sunk into his cunt, he squirted so hard it splashed against the wall.
He’s not entirely certain what happened after that. He was blindfolded and no one told him what was happening. Why would they? He was just an object. He was supposed to lay there and let people use him, no matter what.
He wasn’t ashamed that that turned him on more than anything else in his life ever had.
All he knew is that as he lay there on that table, completely bound and unable to move, he felt his body begin to change. Someone was speaking in a language he couldn’t understand, and as they did, he felt strange sensations erupt under his skin. He assumed they were chanting, casting spells on him.
His hips widened. He felt his cunt grow, pumped up and permanently leaking with slick. He felt the same happen to his asshole. His thighs and ass thickened up, along with his stomach. Then, something struck him deep inside. His womb. It felt empty, suddenly. He was overcome with the need to fill it, to get knocked up. His body ached for it so intensely it made him tear up. In his fucked out haze, all he could think about was how empty he felt, and why, oh why wasn’t he pregnant?
It would be another year before he was allowed to breed, much to his dismay. That year was torture. He was fucked senselessly every day, but his womb remained untouched. Listening in on conversations happening around him, he realized why.
They were training him, breaking his holes in so something much bigger than humans could fit inside. He was to be bred by monsters, bear their offspring, then give them to the one who had knocked him up. He was to become nothing more than an incubator for lonely monsters who wanted children.
After he realized that, he tried his very best to speed the process along, not that there was much he could do when 10 hours of the day he was strapped down to a table.
He’ll always remember the first monster cock he had. It was a werewolf, a tall, terrifying beast with a cock that struck fear into people’s hearts. The werewolf’s body was similarly built to a humans, just much larger and covered in fur, but his head was that of a wolf’s. His cock was a blend of the two creatures, massive and thick with a powerful knot at the base.
The boy thought he was going to be ripped in half when that knot first sunk into him, but as soon as the torrential flood of cum began to fill his empty womb and satiate his body’s denied desires, he fell in love with it.
Now, a year later, his holes and womb have never been more ruined. His belly is gravid and huge with no chance of being empty any time soon, much to the boys delight. His holes are stretched out and gaped, constantly leaking cum.
As that half-bull pounds into his ass, the boy realizes something.
These aren’t really his holes anymore. His ass, his pussy, his womb, they don’t belong to him. They’re the property of his owners and the monsters who come to fuck him. He has no autonomy over who gets to use them, how long, how. No bit of his body belongs to himself at all any more, really. He is entirely the property of someone else and to be used as they saw fit.
The thought has his cumming again, his first time cumming with his ass.
The half-bull’s orgasm soon follows, flooding the boys ass. He smacks the boys ass as he pulls out, exclaiming “Now that was a good fuck!”
The boy smiles. “Glad I could be of assistance sir!” he slurs out, surprised he’s capable of speech as the aftershocks of his orgasms rack through his body.
The half-bull grips his plush asscheeks and runs his hands over them. “Should make you carry my whole litter. My kind likes to have 10 kids or more, since our population is so low. I’ll haf’ta talk to that man to set up the appointments.”
The boy shudders, overjoyed. “My womb is yours to use!” he proudly says, which earns him another smack on the ass as the half-bull walks away.
It’s quiet in the barn for a moment, and then he hears the familiar sound of a cart squeaking in. It’s feeding time.
As the worker that tends to him puts the tube in his mouth and his dinner is served, he feels his womb stretching, growing to accommodate the half-bulls child. He supposes that an incredibly fast gestation period is another one of the spells that was put on him so long ago.
The worker, someone he’s never seen before but has a distinctly female voice, rubs his cheek as he’s fed. She then runs his hand down his neck and across the plains of his chest.
“You surprise me each and every day,” she says, “I could never… do what you do.”
The boy smiles around his feeding tube, stops eating for a moment, then says, “I was made for this. It’s fun.”
He hears the woman chuckle. After he finishes his dinner, he relaxes into his binds as he feels the woman’s hands run over his skin, massaging his belly since he’s not able to.
“Do you… want to see yourself? See how pregnant you are?” She asks as she continues massaging him.
He hasn’t had his blindfold taken off in ages. He immediately agrees.
The woman gently takes off his blindfold, cupping the boys face as his sensitive eyes adjust to the light. He looks around at the barn, surprisingly small and kind of empty. The woman then undoes the rope that keep his back arched, relaxing it so that he’s still suspended, but his back is straight now.
He looks down at the hanging expanse of his belly and moans. He is massive. So much more pregnant than he had seen anyone in his village ever become. He can see the babies’ kicks ripple across his stomach, swaying the hanging form.
“Oh my god,” he whispers, a gigantic smile on his face.
The woman notices his expression and laughs. “You really do like this. That’s insane.”
The boy laughs, watching his womb sway as he does so. The woman would never understand his deep, insatiable desire to be bred. To give up his holes completely and just be used. To be nothing more than a warm body to fuck and bear young. It’s all he was made for.
As he looks down at his gravid form, a familiar feeling ripples across his stomach. A contraction. He whines and screws his eyes shut as it passes through him. A few moments later and his water breaks, a flood of fluid gushing out of him.
When labor starts, he never knows how many babies he’ll end up having to push out. It could be one, four, maybe six or seven. The most he did at one time was eight, all werewolf pups. They have big litters.
The woman notices his labor and strings him back up again. His back arching and stomach groaning. He cries out as another contraction flows through him.
When he feels the baby push against his cervix, he whimpers and bites his lip. It’ll be a while before he’s dilated enough, so until then he’ll have to bear the feeling of a very heavy baby pushing down on his poor cervix.
The woman goes behind him and sticks her whole hand in his pussy. “Three centimeters already. You have to get to fourteen.”
The boy nods, already knowing the goal, and takes deep breaths as he contracts more and more. To keep him calm, the woman massages his clit in her hand, giving him something else to focus on.
He could give birth to anything. He goes through his mental list of the monsters he knows has fucked him and he’s yet to birth their young. The half-bull was too recent, so it’s not his child. The possibilities are an orc, a centaur, a harpy, a beast-man, and a were-bear.
He prays it’s the centaurs child(ren). Those hooves are not kind on his poor womb, even if they’re still soft.
The woman runs her hands over his ass and up his back, massaging him. It helps to relax him somewhat so he can cope with the pain.
It takes a half hour, but eventually he’s dilated enough. He cries out as he bears down, then bites down on the bit gag that’s put in his mouth during labor, so he doesn’t bite his tongue and hurt himself.
He pushes and breathes, pushes and breathes. Slowly but surely he feels the baby descend, making its way out. He’s gotten good at this, and in only a few more pushes he’s screaming as he gives birth once more.
“An orc! A lovely little girl.”
He never sees the ones he gives birth to, but he’s happy. He has no attachment to the babies, no need to mother them or be there for them. He’s just the incubator, nothing more. He only hopes that the baby’s father will be proud of her and love her.
“T-there’ll be- there’ll be more-“ the boy grunts out, his words distorted due to his gag.
Orcs always had at least twins, at max quintuplets.
Sure enough, another baby descends, this one bigger than the last. He takes a deep breath in as he pushes once more, unsure of how long he’ll be doing this.
Four times. It takes him two hours, but he has given the orc four beautiful babies. As the woman takes them out of the barn and he’s left there, sweating and shaking, he’s proud of himself. He’s good at what he does. He’s a good, good incubator.
The woman comes back shortly after and cleans him off, putting his blindfold back on as she does so. She leaves the bit gag in, saying she likes how it looks on him.
After he’s taken care of, dozing off from exhaustion, the woman leaves. A few moments later and someone else walks in, coming up behind him and resting their large hands on his ass.
He’s not even given a break to sleep. It doesn’t matter. He loves waking up and wondering who had him while he was unconscious, wondering how many more babies he has now.
“Hello,” the monster introduces, “just need someone to carry a kid for me. There’s not really any other dragons around me, so you’re my only shot to have a kid. I’m sure you understand.”
The boy smiles as he feels another cock sink into him and begin to pummel him, falling asleep only a few thrusts in.
I stand before you, pen and clipboard in hand. "And how are we feeling today?"
I am met with a moan of... pain? Pleasure? A mixture thereof? Like the lowing of a cow, though at this point such a comparison is way too generous. Nonetheless, I jot down my findings and begin my routine checkup.
At your current size, it takes a whole minute of straight walking to circumnavigate your body, or more precisely your belly. It's a colossal thing, a literal mound of flesh that I could crawl atop of. And every square inch is packed with babies, hundreds of them according to the latest ultrasound. Layers and layers of children overlapping one another. There are babies deep inside you that have never known the caress of an outside hand; only the hands and feet of their many siblings in every conceivable direction, all competing for a little more personal space.
As such, your belly is never still. Your flesh, impossibly taut as it may seem at a glance, is always subtly writhing, undulating like the sea. You certainly have enough amniotic fluid sloshing about inside to masquerade as one. As a matter of fact, I write down that idea: *Record audio of amniotic fluid, test against actual ocean noise, ask subjects to discern the two.*
I continue my rounds, looking up and down the expanse of your belly for anything concerning, noting places where new stretch marks and bruises have formed for later lotion and oil application. In the last few months, we've gone through lifetime supplies of both, which is only appropriate, on second thought. You're creating many, many lives within you. I squeeze your protruding belly button--long lost to you--as I pass by it, but the sensation might be lost on you, when you're constantly contending with the squirming of your brood.
After several minutes, my evaluation is complete and I meet you again, face to face. "Looks like you've grown a few more inches since yesterday," I cheerfully inform you. Again, you moan piteously, not even making eye contact. Understandably so. You're so pregnant that it occupies your every waking thought. I'm barely a presence to you. Which suits me just fine. I mark the time, document my intention, then I click my pen closed and set the whole thing aside on a nearby table.
The rest of your body is elevated off the ground, so I must climb a few steps to reach the platform we’ve built around you. Out in front of you, there is a recess for each of your titanic breasts, which have similarly swelled to titanic proportions in order to feed the legion growing inside you. You started producing milk six weeks ago, and since then we’ve had industrial-strength siphons attached to your breasts, pumping around the clock so it doesn’t painfully build up. Even so, you produce almost as quickly as we’re able to safely extract. Every drop we manage to wring out of you is bottled and placed in cold storage, as there won’t be enough time in the day for you to breastfeed every one of your babies. In this regard, and others, you have exceeded our wildest projections. You’re too good at this.
I slip behind you, comfortably settling on the same seat you are. There is ample space, which your body seems to have taken as a challenge. Your ass cheeks are huge and pillowy, a natural consequence of how many calories you’re forced to consume to fuel this impossible pregnancy and the sedentary lifestyle said pregnancy enforces. Needless to say, you’ve grown quite fat. Your ass cheeks alone, huge and pillowy, threaten to engulf my form as I spread them apart to reach my objective: your quivering, constantly dripping pussy. You may be barely cognizant of your surroundings, but your body immediately recognizes mine.. Your hips instinctually align with mine for easier docking. “Such an obedient pet,” I whisper into your ear as I press my cock inside you, grunting with some effort since you’re so tight and swollen. My hands glide across your tender skin, raising goosebumps with just the tips of my fingers. "Your whole body is so sensitive." Your moaning increases in pitch. "Perhaps some part of you recognizes that I am taking advantage of you. But what can you do about it? Your brain is mush, all scrambled from being a baby factory. And to think, you volunteered for this. A post grad student hoping to pay off his debt. How could you have known we would turn you into this," I squeeze some of your flesh. "A fat guinea pig is what you are. Nothing but a pair of tits and a womb. You're not even a person anymore, you're property-a piece of equipment, hardware, in our mission to push the limits of human potential. Hundreds of babies are growing inside you. So who's going to notice one or two more?" That is when I begin to fuck you in earnest, causing your fat to quiver and ripple with each thrust of mine. Pathetic sounds tumble out of your mouth every time I push, but you can't possibly form the words telling me to stop. You haven't burst yet, but that's always a concern at the very back of your mind. You're much too pregnant already, surely you cannot stomach even one more baby, the next one will surely be the one to break the camel's back (or water, in this case). But that exact thought has run through your mind before, every time I've fucked you over the course of this pregnancy, every morning after evaluation, and though your body complains every time, skin creaking in protest as it's forced to expand further... I can't recall a single drop of my seed ever escaping your pussy. Truly, your reproductive system is insatiable.
I check the watch on my wrist, and register surprise. "Evaluation took longer today. Guess I'll have to speed things up. But don't worry, I'll have you screaming by the end of this like always~"
My children. The brood. The populace in my gut. Yet another baby plumps up my stuffed gut. My stomach cries at the new addition to the batch. I become more distended, breaking a new record for the new hour.
I can’t stop the cycle. I’ve lost everything to you. My dignity, my humanity, my body, my mind, my freedom. But I’ve accepted it to some degree.
Throughout all the trauma inflicted on my womb and pangs of pain of being such an overburdened papa, I do still find pleasure. My body has been receptive to all the arduous challenges you have tasked upon me and parting my legs was always the easiest part.
Taking in your cock is natural, of course, your seed is the consequence and pregnancy would have been inevitable. But the sheer number of occupants…?
Well, I almost can’t blame anyone else for this predicament other than myself. At one point, I could have refused. But I just kept taking you on and giving into this pleasure and this hedonism that is so deep within me.
Now, there’s really nowhere else I can turn to… but you.
I can hardly remember the outside world or who I was before. It wouldn’t matter now; it’s not like I can return. I’m serving a new purpose. I’ve become something bigger than that what I was before. Both literally and figuratively.
I can’t quit. No, not until I pop or when all these babies eventually pass out of me.
Or when you eventually grow tired of me, which I highly doubt would ever happen. Many things escape my hollow mind, but I knew as much that I was your plow horse; your cum disposal. Not your life-size doll, but what is yours and bigger than life.
And I’m disposed to you. You’re my mine as much as I am yours but perhaps, this “relationship” is still less than mutual. My pussy aches whenever you are around. You have sown my appetite and it becomes fiercer with each encounter I have with you.
Imagine if every time your demon captors fuck you, their demonic energy transfers to your stuffed womb and makes the babies gain a few days of growth during the action. Since you’re an angel breeding slave, the demons are using your holes round the clock. Your blessed body can take the strain.
You spend your days crying and feeling sinful and ashamed at how much you like swelling bigger and bigger with every thrust of their massive pricks, creating demonic life. Your hands clutch desperately at your writing, pulsing womb in the vain hope of keeping it from growing, growing, growing with their spawn. You pass out and the demons keep going and admire the steady burgeoning of your belly.
