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@plumpedxprincess
about ļ½”ļ½„*ā§ļ½”ā”
miley | 24 | she/they | nsfw | 18+
hi, just another preg/kink/belly blog. sometimes writer, most times reblogger.
*asks are open but i do NOT respond to DMs usually*
fpreg ā§ breeding ā§ hyperpregnancy ā§ multiples ā§ weight gain ā§ dom/sub dynamics ā§ aliens/monsters/werewolves ā§ rapid preg expansion
my writing
my musings
my fav reblogs
view some of my fav tags below:
there's something so hot about being pregnant. like, it completely takes over everything. you had sex one time, and now this is your life for the next 9 months. sure maybe you won't show for a little while, but eventually your belly will be so big anyone will be able to see that you've been used, and that someone has claimed your womb with their seed. and just, the intimacy of that, of your body swelling up with their baby rendering you reliant on them is just so perfect
my back is pressed against the bed but my tummy is a huge swell on my fertile body. all i can do is pant and whine while the occupants of my swollen womb squirm and expand under your hand, threatening to pop my poor overfilled tummy. how many did you say were in there again?
God i have such a huge fantasy of tying up a heavily pregnant women, and i just mean a completely overstretched belly with huge tits like almost impossibly huge, and sticking a vibe to her clit. Watching her thrash against the ropes trying to get away from the vibe. Maybe to add even more spice, attach her engorged tits to a breast pump milking her like the cow she is. listening to her beg for you to turn the vibe off that she ācanāt cum anymoreā but we both know thatās not true. Calling her ācowā instead of her name because itās exactly what she is
just a huge round cow.
Moooooo
I was sitting in his living room, on his couch, rubbing the swollen belly that he gave me. He was upstairs putting our twins to sleep. My aching, heavily pregnant body is waiting for him to come downstairs and take care of me. My pussy is wet with anticipation and desire for his cock, for his semen. I look down at my tits, leaking and heavy with milk, and I wonder how I let him do this to me. Not one, but two, consecutive pregnancies with almost no gap in between. I knew this was not going to be the last pregnancy. I rub my belly and bite my lips. Although I told him clearly that after I deliver this one, I donāt want to get pregnant ever again. I know I am going to let him fill me with his potent seed, he made me addicted to his cum, filling me, coating my unprotected, fertile womb, fucking me raw for hours, dumping loads after loads in my hungry pussy. I know I will open my legs for him and let him knock me up again, and again.
Love how tight she is... Moaning because she's so big and uncomfortable... ā„ļø
Checking to see how my newest cow is coming along. I love checking my handiwork.
Hucow whose belly is constantly undulating and groaning like there's a rodeo in his womb~
I thought I had gotten the hang of measuring how close I was to being due by how active the calves were. But this batch acts as if theyāre due any day now, hardly allowing me a moment of sleep. The farmhands insist Iāve still got another two months, seeming almost as concerned as I am as they watch my belly continuously stretch and shift with movement. I can only assume theyāre right ā I lose track of my own progression so easily, always bred again the moment Iām empty.
Almost every routine on the ranch is done in order of how far along each cow is; the cows closest to popping are always fed and milked first. Thankfully, thereās only one other heifer before me, carrying twins due in just a few days. But it still feels unfair, her belly a fraction of the size of mine, only needing to feed half as many calvesā¦ I try to wait patiently, but my stomach growls indignantly, and it feels as if the babies squirm harder in retaliation. My belly roils and churns, its skinās surface rippling and wobbling with furious movement causing me to let out an uneasy moan. More sharp kicks toward the top of my womb begin to press and thud against the bottom of my udders, making them slosh and spill my milk wastefully on the barn floor. I low desperately, incapable of soothing my agitated brood or my gurgling, famished stomach.
Little would I know my herdmate went into labor while she was being milked, and Iād have to wait my turn for agonizing hours with my endlessly writhing wombā¦ At least Iād be first in line for the two more months this batch has left.
You groan in delight, idly rubbing your blimp of a belly. The new hubull is a monster of a stud.
When the farmer put you in his stall, you couldn't believe the size of his balls - each larger than your head, and so very loud, audibly churning as he staggered toward you in a careful stance; they must have been so tender in their overfull state. No sooner than his glans found your hole, he started crying and cumming, his muscular arms suddenly wrapping around you and pulling you flush against his body, cock slamming against the door of your womb. You felt every pulse of his bull cock as it dowsed your reproductive system, filling your womb like a water balloon until it could fill a wheelbarrow - which it did, after the farmer peeled the two of you apart so the bull could breed the next cow. It wasn't easy to guide you out of the stall then, your senses were swimming from overstimulation, yet before you left, you saw that the bull - in spite of the oceanic amount of cum he put inside you - still had plenty more to give; the amount you took was only a small relief, enough to calm him until the next cow entered.
So now here you sit on a soft mat in a faraway stall, cum drunk and nursing your belly full of swimmers; it excites you to know that any one of them could become a calf, a burden and a delight, a reason for your teats to fill with milk. The heat in your face and in your loins has barely cooled from oven temperatures. You want more. You want that lusty bull to breed you again, and again and again and again, so long as you have eggs to fertilize, no matter if your belly becomes the size of a barn! You press into and fondle your gut, eliciting all sorts of lurid noises as you fantasize about the broods you will birth.
Your private reverie is interrupted by the sound of a latch. Another cow - sporting a wobbling belly as large as yours - lumbers into the stall, moaning plaintively as she struggles (even with both arms) to support the weight of her own turgid womb. Stopping across from you, she flops onto the floor without a shred of grace, noisily jostling the gallons upon gallons of semen she's been gifted. She doesn't bother to right herself, continuing to lay on her side, belly spilling outward. Her face is red, and she's drawing in breath like a bellows.
For a moment, you consider this is what you must look like, but you dash the thought. She looks exhausted, and ready to pop. You're ready for round two. But the likelihood of that is slim; the farmer has several cows in need of breeding. You were lucky enough to be chosen first . . . yet it is agony to know now that you will have to share this wonderful new bull with cows like this one who can barely stomach his affections. If she was going to huff and groan like a lowly pig, she didn't deserve his calves!
A wicked thought enters your mind. A jealous, spiteful, magnificent idea. You lean forward, the contents of your belly sloshing before -PLOP!- it settles underneath you. You crawl on hands and knees toward the ungrateful heifer, who's so lost in her own aches and pains that she doesn't discern the danger in your smile or the hunger in your eyes. It doesn't occur to her that you mean to relocate all the warm seed in her belly to a much more deserving one~
When the farmer arrives minutes later to deliver a third cow to the stall, they stop in befuddlement. There's one less cow than before; and the one who is left is much, MUCH bigger than before. You do not look up to meet their gaze, eyes and hands thoroughly glued on your doubly bloated stomach, which now - on top of the burbling process of fertilization - growls and churns with the sound of digestion, and less discernible the whine of a distressed cow who's nonetheless too weary to resist her fate as a post-coital meal~
(everything about this is so fucking perfect š)
I couldnāt care less about the disappointed and somewhat disgusted expression of the farmhand, lost in the throes of being so full. They only truly catch my attention when they lean down and place their hands against my massive gut, pressing and kneading against the rippling skin in an attempt to coax me into letting the other cow back up and out. I canāt help my own hypocritical huffing and puffing as my belly burbles and whines defiantly with the sudden movement and pressure, but it only serves to help digest my herdmate faster. A sharp, monstrous roiling of my stomach echoes throughout the stalls, and the struggling that warped the surface of its skin began to slow to a standstill. The farmhand sighs dejectedly, their efforts now only good for jiggling and sloshing the myriad of fluids in my rotund form. I could swear my tits already felt heavierā¦
The third hucow leans against the doorframe in a daze, completely unaware of the situation and absentmindedly rubbing the laughably small swell of her cum-laden womb. She stares at me with a mix of confusion and what I realize must be envy. Perhaps sheād be happier as a part of something greater. I beckon her forward from my spot pinned to the floor, and the farmhand doesnāt have enough time to warn the poor cow until her legs are already in my throat. I gulp and swallow feverishly, eager to add her fat to my own and rightfully claim more of that perfect studās seed. A satisfying belch tapers off into a long āmooā as my second morsel settles into my impossibly plump middle, the endless stream of noise it produces becoming even more frenzied. I sound like a bubbling cauldron, and every single glurp and groan only serves to turn me on further.
The farmhand has traded their disgruntlement for fear and a hint of arousal ā their hands never left the surface of my belly, and their eyes at some point had become fixated on my udders. If they werenāt bigger earlier, they most certainly are now; far from their max size, but easily already twice as large as they were before being bred. I take the farmhandās wrist, guiding their hand to squeeze and pull at my teat. The milk is minimal, but itās to be expected. My body is only just starting to prepare. I shiver in ecstasy, another guttural swishing noise emanating from my belly as it undulates wildly. Taking the farmhand again, I herd them downwards, until theyāre in between my legs, where they obediently suck my throbbing tcock. Iām nearly immobile, the rocking of my hips almost nonexistentā¦ but Iām far from satiated, and the farmhand slowly but surely disappears into my wet and needy hole.
I rub what little expanse of my absurdly distended belly I can, relishing in the much more vivacious thrashing of my womb to finally match the struggling that had tested the limits of my gut. Feeling as heavy as a house, I begin to drift to sleep, wondering if Iāll be smaller or bigger by the time I wake back up, and if Iāll get another round with that addictively virile hubullā¦
Happy, pregnant & a big round belly. All three things you love to see šā„ļøš¤°
Is there anything more lovely to walk in on when you arrive home?
I want to take you, heavily pregnant with my babies, to the fireworks tonight. The weather'll be hot, so you'll need to wear as little as possible. I've got a blanket on the grass and that's where we'll watch the fireworks. I'll help you lay down on your back. No complaining that you feel pinned down by your huge belly like that! It's the best way to see the show, and I know what's best for you.
Aren't the fireworks beautiful? I love the way the shells burst open and the glowing colors expand until they fill the sky. Kind of like how I burst inside you and now you just keep expanding. Your belly must look like a mountain when you're flat on your back like that, huh? Well, it's not really like a mountain because mountains don't grow. You're more like one a' the water balloons the kids were playing with at the cookout. And I'm sorry to say you're still hooked up to the faucet, honey. You're gonna have to grit your teeth and swell some more.
Ah, the loud booms are stirring up the kiddos? No, that's no reason to leave. They're my babies; they love the noise! They're just having fun in there! You'll just have to bear it.
I wish this moment could last forever. You look so obscenely bred, your belly glowing in the colors of the fireworks, flutters of movement caught in the light. I can hear you grunt with some of the kicks. I can't help it... I reach over and press where I saw a bulge. You gasp and squirm, and that just sets off the babies more. You moan, long and low and almost cow-like. Your eyes are wet and you look strained. Is it taking all your effort just to hold my brood?
The fireworks are shooting off faster, building up to a finale. The colors layer over each other, the pulses of light quicken. It's intense. You're twitching with each boom... like you're feeling the explosion inside you.
And I know it's just my fantasy, but I see you swelling even bigger. Somehow each rocket is making you more pregnant. Your tears spill over and you hold your own sides as they press further out with each bang. Oh honey, I know you're scared but you're doing so well! I warned you my seed was potent, didn't I? Just keep breathing. Here, take one hand off your belly and squeeze my hand. And I'll put my other hand on your belly so I can feel how big you're getting.
Oh! That was the biggest firework yet! And oh, that growth spurt had you whining and gripping my hand. But you're holding it all in. Honey, I know you can do this. The show will be over soon, and I'll help you onto your side, and from there you can get onto your knees and then maybe your feet. I'll help you waddle to the truck. I think you'll still fit, but if not I'll load you onto the truck bed. I'll take you home and keep you safe until you're ready to push out my babies.
Okay, deep breath, I think this is going to be the final barrage of fireworks. Here they come!
The difference between the breeding kink and pregnancy fetish
āFill meā She had texted him with the photo. She had been so pleased with herself. The angle was perfect. The finger biting was sexy but cute. Her pert tits on display with just enough of her pussy on display to entice him. She had wondered if she should have shaved before hand and decided to dismiss it. A little bit of hair was, in her mind ākind of classyā. She would send these photos to him with similar messages to drive him wild. āBreed me?ā , ā Cum and claim meā , and when she sent a particularly lewd photo of herself spread wide she added āBreed me daddy.ā At 24 she was having the time of her life dating a man ten years older than her. Old enough to have a few gray hairs popping up but still in good shape and able to make her legs shake in bed. She had never told any of her previous boyfriends her breeding kink but when he divulged his pregnancy fetish she thought it was a perfect match. She could finally indulge the itch that she had never been able to fully scratch before. It was everything she wanted, passing out with his seed dripping out of her, a safe way to finally playā¦..until she started feeling sick at random times and for no obvious reason.
Her breasts began to feel sore and she couldnāt help but notice her pants felt just a little bit tighter. After the second missed period she went to the doctor who confirmed what she had been silently dreading. Somehow her birth control had failed. Congratulations. Thereās a little bun in the oven. She cried in the doctors office while her boyfriend gently comforted her. He would take care of her. He would be there every step of the way. She couldnāt help but notice how many teeth he was showing when he smiled and said āYouāll look beautiful carrying my baby.ā
She soon found out it was babies. Not baby. And that there was a big difference between having a breeding kink and a pregnancy fetish
āFill meā She had texted. 8 and a half months later she regretted those words.
She could barely breathe with the weight of her achingly full womb and tits pressing down on her as she was on her back with him fucking her for the third time that day. She was exhausted and every inch of her new ample body ached. Her once pert breasts could now could only be described as bloated, uncomfortably Ā full from the pregnancy and breast milk. So tender she couldnāt help but wince a little as the full flesh clapped against her globe of a belly with his thrusts. It might have just be in her head but she could almost swear she could hear milk slosh around inside of her chest when she moved. Both of the babies were wide awake from all the rocking and her gravid belly was quivering with their movements. She was so tired and swore there was no way she could possibly cum while feeling this huge and uncomfortable but over and over her own body betrayed her as she felt the waves of pleasure run through her and begin to peak again. She almost wanted to beg for him to stop. It felt good but her poor sex was so swollen and tight it was now almost painful when she came. āPlease - ā She tried to say as the dam broke and she felt herself contract around his iron hard cock and gush all over him. That was new and unwelcome as well. Almost every night she would fall asleep a sopping mess, too tired to lift her now fat ass up to try and clean up the mess. Just as she started to come down just enough she heard him groan and his cock twitch inside of tender walls. āOh nooooā She began to moan as she felt him spurt one thick hot rope after another and her body reacted in kind, flooding the two of them all over again.
He lay there with his arms wrapped around her monstrous belly, trying to soothe his babies as she tried to catch her breath. Ā Why did she ever play with fire like this?
āGod, I love you like thisā he whispered in her ear and she couldnāt help but get goosebumps. āAfter the girls are born and we canā¦. Iām going to fill you again.ā
but the humiliation of it allā¦
i want to be so big, so full, so heavy that i can only draw attention. unable to contain my little moans and groans as iām reduced to a proper broodmare before your very eyes. teased, shamed, unable to control the transformation overtaking my body. womb full of unrelenting movement. my breasts firm and filling more and more with every passing second. getting bigger and rounder. unstoppable. any time i enter a room, i lead with my full, fertile belly and my engorged tits. what would people think?
People would stare. And *STARE*.
Some would tut and sneer, judging you to be a simple slave to biology and animalistic rutting. No more than a breeding cow, barely capable of thoughts beyond growing and pushing and growing again, and again, and again. How shocking! Just dreadful... to think that she's willing to parade around shamefully like that, no more modesty than a farm animal, she should be in a barn!
Others would stare in awe. In shock at your size so far, amazed, no *impressed* that you continue to swell and grow. They'd watch every arc and curve, every bounce and heave of your belly and breasts as you waddle and breathe, *swearing* they can see you getting bigger before their eyes. *Hoping* to. Flashing back to fertility idols on display in museums. Mentally doing math on how far along you are, how many you're carrying... just how big will she get? CAN she get? Their adoration of the power of your fertility sends them into half-guilty arousal, even as they look around and see the scowls of others. They nervously mutter in agreement with the rest of the crowd even as their cheeks flush. Some have to adjust their stance to hide bulges of arousal, others subconsciously find their hands on their abdomens in envy.
With any luck those merely play-acting going along with the crowd's disgust will notice each other and be able to tell they are worshipping your fecundity with their eyes. With any luck they'll pair off tonight. With the goal of making more bellies as big as yours.
Me?
I'm off to the side, eyes half-closed in barely concealed lust, smiling crookedly as my brain juggles the ideas of breeding cow and fertility idol and then just lands on 'i wonder what she'd look like in a holstein bikini while I get her even MORE pregnant?"
Yesā¦ I want this so badly
Big Big belly š„°š¤°š»
