*This is a kink/fetish sideblog in the works. My secret little trashfire corner*
18+ ONLY. Will block followers who have no age in description.
*Please know that I am STRICTLY ANTI-AI. You do not have my permission to repost any of my works, or use them for generative ai purposes. Please don't be an asshole to writers and artists who work hard :) If I find that my works have been used for ai or stolen, I will take this whole ship (my blog) down.
Hello, welcome humans. I'm a lurker in my late 20s. As long as I can remember, I've had a birth fetish. Tried to suppress it and here I am. This blog is mostly for that, though I may post about other kinks. I write and make OC art. I'm mostly into tmpreg, especially in a real-world historical setting. I love writing about hard intense natural labours with lots of pushing.
I do not roleplay or respond to DMs.
Main kinks/fetishes:
tmpreg, mpreg, fpreg
Unmedicated labour & birth
Birth sounds & faces
Vocal support, pushing support, directing
Long pushing
Pushing in lots of different positions: standing, crouching, squatting, side-lying, kneeling, lying on back, sitting supported, on toilet, closed legs
Big bellies. Natural, not monster/vore/feeder
Hard labour
Naked birth
Loving/romantic birth environment or birth with a partner
Posterior, breech, nuchal hand, stuck shoulders & other difficulties
I loooove birth fics written from the father's pov for several reasons..
Being a voyeur to all the pain and effort of birth, especially the sounds and faces and the primal-ness of it.
Feeling completely useless or overwhelmed witnessing his partner giving birth, knowing there's nothing he can do to stop the pain. Bonus points if it makes him feel like a failure as a man.
Having a frame of reference for time, as in the amount of hours labour takes.
The guilt in knowing that he did this to his partner. Or the opposite: the satisfaction, if you swing that way.
My fetish has more to do with supportive partners and intensity, primal-ness, being overwhelmed, etc. Another huge part for me is that I'm a big voyeur. Idk it's just always been this way.
Hi, thanks for the ask! I don't really do requests, sorry. Mostly it's because I can't guarantee I'll finish a story. Writing for me takes a lot of time and effort, so I don't want to promise something and then not follow through in the end.
OMG YAYYYYYY YOU'RE BACK!!!!! Love the new fpreg fic <33 You've really got the screaming/birth noises down to a science dkskjdghjkl it somehow just. Makes so so much sense!! Not just mindless vowel screaming but you can hear, or rather imagine, the effort put into each noise by the birther <33
- @kinky-klementine (sorry for the anon lmao, it's a side blog XD)
Hello I am alive! Very busy with life, but still writing. Thank you for reading and enjoying :)) Yes, I'm a huge fan of primal birth noises. They just kind of play out in my head and I hope for the best when I write them out lol. Glad to hear it works!
Love love love anal birth, please write more, it's so hot. I love him squatting or on all fours pushing out through a tight butt, and the loose flabby hole after the baby is out squelching out the afterbirth while papa feeds his baby.
Despite being nearly three weeks overdue, Danielle had prepared for a calm home birth, one where she would be sure to have agency and privacy with her husband, Vash. They deep cleaned their small apartment in the hopes that it would give Danielle peace in labour. She had planned to labour in the shower, in the tub, in their living room space where they set up a birth pool, and maybe on the bed as a last resort. Danielle was very adamant to not give birth on her back. This was her time, and her baby, and she would deliver on her own terms with only the support of her husband, one registered midwife, and her sister-in-law Srin–also a midwife in training.
Forty-two hours of labour later, and it did not turn out that way at all.
It’s three in the morning. The quiet of their neighborhood is brutally interrupted by the fact that they opened the balcony door a crack, to bring in some clean spring air for Danielle. The horrible sounds of her birthing effort can be heard all down the street, waking neighbors. The other tenants in the apartment complex had been notified about the home birth, and there’s a good chance they haven’t slept all night due to Danielle’s noise. But she can’t help it. By Srin’s visual estimate, the baby is massive and has wedged herself deep into Danielle’s pelvis.
When the idea of a water birth quickly fell through, they helped Danielle move to the bedroom where they could turn off the lights and help her concentrate on pushing.
Three hours later, and she’s currently standing at the side of the bed near the end, one leg high up on the mattress and one planted firmly on the floor, both hands gripping the bottom bed post like claws and nearly bending the wood straight out of the frame. Srin can see the back of her head, her mess of a high bun after hours and hours of hard labour, and her bare back and bottom. She’s been trying to push the baby’s head past a crown for at least fifteen minutes. The baby is just sitting there, stretching Danielle impossibly wide open, the head so large it looks like less of a dome and more like a big solid plug. Danielle’s tissue is red-hot and already ripping a little, nearly translucent where it’s stretched so thin around her daughter’s huge skull. Her anus is sitting right above her massively stretched tissue, puffed out with hemorrhoids and a dark dusky shade, all from pushing extremely hard for so long. As Srin stands by with the doppler, Danielle bears down again, roaring hard and strained through her teeth, her vocal chords raw and torn at this point, as she grips the bed post. Vash puts a hand over hers, his face tight and pinched with sympathetic pain as he watches his wife’s grimacing face as she tries with all her might to give birth to their daughter.
It’s terrifying to watch. Srin is still a midwife in training–this is the first time she’s attended a real birth this intense, and especially one so close to home. This is the birth of her first niece, after all.
Her brother looks terrified, intensely focused on his wife from his place standing at the foot of the bed, a supportive hand rubbing up and down Danielle’s sweat-slicked back while the other one gently covers Danielle’s hands gripping the post. She can just about hear Vash muttering through Danielle’s hard sounds of effort.
“Doing so well, baby, her head’s almost out.”
Hearing her husband’s promise, Danielle makes it to the end of that push and then inaudibly gasps in before bearing down again, hard, grunting and roaring with all of the strength in her body.
Srin watches the baby’s head struggle down, down, down through Danielle’s massive push. Heather, the experienced midwife and her teacher, is supporting Danielle’s stretched-to-the-limit tissue, rubbing a gentle finger along the translucent skin while Danielle pushes her daughter down hard.
Srin isn’t needed during this contraction, so she just stands there and watches, speechless, as again and again and again Danielle works incredibly hard, roaring and grunting with every push, bending her bottom down deeply, her one leg on the bed staying wide open. The baby’s head gradually nudges out on a slightly crooked angle, then bounces back to the stuck point, then with barely a second wasted, OUT again harder harder harder as Danielle roars, refusing to let go of the push. Her noises are intense, echoing in the small room and making Srin tremble.
Vash can barely be heard encouraging her: “Pushpushpushpushpush honey, so hard!”
In response to her husband, Danielle bears down with one more gargantuan, shuddering push, her vocal chords cracking and tearing, the sound of her roar going up and down as she slowly, agonizingly, pushes the baby’s head out to just above a wrinkly brow.
They all react to Danielle’s progress, finally, as Danielle screams, bouncing up a little to try and escape the sudden sharp pain. She tore a little more, Srin noticed, but no one will scare her by drawing attention to it. Srin has also noticed the baby’s head is on an uneven angle, and facing Danielle’s right thigh slightly. Heather, of course, noticed first. Srin knows they’re both very concerned now about the possibility of a shoulder dystocia.
Srin has to remember to breathe, or else she’ll pass out at the mere thought.
“Good job Danielle, take a big breath now,” Heather guides. “Just breathe.” Then she raises her voice. “Tones!”
Srin takes her cue and puts the doppler under Danielle’s belly, trying to get heart tones as Danielle gulps in gasps and cries, Vash helping her stay upright. Danielle grunts lightly with each breath and Heather has to guide her through every single inhale, trying to encourage her not to push right now.
Srin has a hard time getting the baby’s heart tones. She’s about to remove the doppler and signal to Heather to tell her it’s time to lock down, but just then she manages to get a slight sound: a steady heart beat, but much too slow for her liking. The baby is struggling, likely stressed from being squeezed so hard, if she’s as big as they both think.
When Heather hears the tones, she gets her hands back on stretching Danielle’s tissue, applying lube, and says, “OK Danielle, I want you to push very hard now. It’s no holds barred, just get her out.”
Danielle doesn’t need a second more of instruction. She gasps in hugely, then her entire body, sweat-drenched and naked, SHOVES down hard, opening wide, as she roars deep into her chest and her gut.
Srin watches the baby’s head coming out, coming out, trembling with Danielle’s effort as she tries so hard to push the gigantic skull past her tissue that refuses to stretch any more. With her fingers rubbing around Danielle’s translucent and red tissue, Heather says very loudly, “Sound in Danielle and big breath in!”
Danielle gasps hugely, Vash holding her shoulder and grimacing in sympathy, looking at her face.
“And PUSH HARD!” Heather orders, as Danielle’s entire body bends down, her leg still wide open and up on the bed. She barely makes a sound beyond some quiet, strangled strains as she pushes SO hard her entire body flushes red, her head shaking hard, her hands bending the bed post out of its wooden socket.
“All your might, baby, get her out,” Vash says tightly.
Srin can see the baby’s head slide out a little more, Danielle’s ripped and bleeding tissue peeling back over the swollen shut eyes, then the nubby nose, as her entire body trembles hard enough to shake the bed. Then she can’t hold her sound in any more, but keeps that massive push going.
From there on it’s one brutal push after another, as Danielle knows she needs to get her out now. Srin doesn’t count. She’s too lazer-focused on the baby’s face coming out, and the dusky purple shade of her skin. She keeps the doppler pressed under Danielle’s huge belly, trying to get heart tones, as Danielle just pushes like a demon. At least ten gigantic, earth-shattering pushes go by, Danielle’s throat completely raw and her voice animalistic by the tenth one, and she still hasn’t gotten the baby’s chin out. Baby’s head is on a sharper angle now, with one chubby cheek more out than the other, and each time Danielle lets go of a push, the head bounces back in as if something is holding her back.
Past Danielle’s horrible animal grunting and straining, Heather looks over her trembling, shining back to seriously tell Vash: “Call 911.”
Vash leaps up from his spot immediately to grab his phone from the dresser. Without him there, Danielle continues to labour hard, trying with every muscle in her body to birth their huge daughter. Srin isn’t even sure Danielle notices Vash is gone from her side. There’s no real way to know if she sees or hears any of them in her current state. That is until Heather, sticking her gloved fingers in around the baby’s huge purple head, tells Danielle to stop pushing.
Her gloved fingers are bloody as she places her wrist on Danielle’s tailbone, trying to calm her. “I need you to stop pushing Danielle, just try to blow! That’s it, good, blow blow blow! C’mon you can do this.”
Srin talks over to Vash, instructing him to tell the operator on the phone what’s happening. She can barely get the words out, knowing this is happening to her brother and her sister-in-law.
“Shoulder dystocia. Head is out.” She looks back at Heather, who has her fingers in again, trying to maneuver the shoulder out as Danielle screams shrilly. “Trying to get the anterior shoulder.”
Stuttering but sounding robotic as he goes into shock, Vash relays the exact words to the operator. He’s still looking at his wife, tears in his eyes now.
Srin helps Danielle get both legs on the floor as she and Heather both realize that she can’t hold it. Every push brings the baby harder against her pubic bone, lodging the shoulder and clavicle deeper, making it very difficult for Heather to release her. Srin knows Heather’s original in-the-moment plan was to prevent Danielle from pushing so she could reach in and release the anterior shoulder, which looks to be the one that’s severely stuck judging by the angle of the baby’s head. She’s worried about what else they might have to do… There’s a possibility that Heather will get Danielle on her back so she can physically push the baby back inside a little in order to release the stuck shoulder. But she’s not going to tell Vash or Danielle that.
With both of her feet on the floor, Srin helps Danielle bend and open her legs wide, the baby’s giant head dangling darkly between her legs, blood dripping down the baby’s thick hair. Heather’s hands shake as she manages to get her fingers all the way past her knuckles inside Danielle’s vagina on the front, pulling and wiggling hard as she tells Danielle to “PUSH now! Push hard, Mama!”
Through the balcony window, some lights come on in the apartments across the street as Danielle tucks her chin and roars gutturally, bending down deep so she’s sitting in the air, supported by Srin and the bed where she grips the sheet hard.
Srin keeps glancing at her glow in the dark watch as a few minutes of this go by, Danielle pushing and pushing and pushing with brutal force, roaring and screeching her baby deeper into her pelvis. There’s blood on the floor. Vash keeps speaking into the phone, telling the operator what’s happening, even as he runs over to turn on the light.
Heather manages to pull one of the baby’s arms out as the paramedics buzz up. Vash runs to the door to let them in, regrettably leaving his wife in agony, but Danielle is too busy to even notice. Fully naked and primal, she tucks her chin to her chest, tears the bedsheet with shaking fists, and bears down with all the force in her body again and again as Heather and Srin continue to encourage her.
“Keep pushing Mama, don’t stop! Heart tones?”
Srin shakes her head. She can’t get a good read, especially not with this intensity and with Danielle pushing so constantly. It’s up to her now.
“OK,” Heather breathes out, still pulling down hard on the baby with each of Danielle’s pushes. “GO mommy, GO! PUSH! PUSH! Get her out!”
Losing her mind to the pain of birth, Danielle grunts and screeches out her first words in what feels like ages.
Vash comes running back in with three paramedics in tow. He gets on the other side of the bed, facing Danielle, reaching for her hands. One of the paramedics drops his large bag on the floor and immediately starts getting gloves on as Srin tells him what’s going on.
“First baby, shoulder dystocia–we’ve tried to release the anterior shoulder. One arm is free, but the posterior shoulder is still wedged.”
Danielle’s grunts start to turn into ragged screams now, part pain and part terror, as the paramedic nods and quickly introduces himself to Danielle, speaking softly and professionally. He tries for the length of two huge hard pushes to wiggle the baby free, with Heather’s help, before he stands up and tells them to help him get Danielle on the bed.
Together, they quickly instruct Danielle to flip around and get flat on her back. McRoberts, Srin thinks, the panic making her think in singular terms. Danielle is shouting and gasping as they all take her legs and bend them way open and back. Srin focuses on the baby’s head, her arm out next to her chunky face, limp and floppy. Her head is massive, her big fat cheeks squished up against Danielle’s body, and her complexion is a very scary shade of dark purple. As Danielle pushes and grunts horribly, her head tossed back, the baby’s head lifts up just a bit, trembling and struggling with her effort, before falling back and sucking back in to its stuck spot.
Very quickly, they get Danielle’s legs as wide open as they can be and all the way up, her knees pressed into her shoulders, making her giant belly stick straight up, her large breasts cushioning her chin as he gasps. Vash is at her head, holding both of her hands above her head and switching his serious gaze from Danielle’s face to the baby’s.
Then they all work together at once. They tell Danielle to PUSH HARD, and her belly launches up with a push as Srin presses down as hard as she can on Danielle’s pubic bone, and Heather and the paramedic both pull the baby’s purple head and neck down dramatically far. Danielle makes the most horrible sound in the world, ragged and alien, as she brings her head up and digs her chin into her bare, sweaty breasts, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out as her grunt goes strangled and she looks at her baby’s humongous head being pulled upwards now as they all try to release the other shoulder.
This is the pivotal moment. The baby’s head has been fully out for several minutes, at least six. Danielle pushes and pushes and pushes and pushes and PUSHES, bringing her head up and whipping it back again and again, gripping her husband’s hands, arching her back and her bare feet, way up in the air, as she screams and grunts gutturally hard and brutal. Heather and the paramedic both need to hold the baby as the other shoulder releases with an audible crack of Danielle’s tailbone and she screeches raggedly, but keeps pushing SO hard. They both pull the baby up and side to side, wiggling her huge body out, as Danielle gets her out to her chest with one massive push, then another, and another, and another. SO many massively hard pushes to get her body out.
In the chaos, they all encourage her.
“PUSH BABY, PUSH! C’MON SHE’S COMING!” -Vash.
“Almost there Danielle, one more big push!” -Srin.
“PUSH HARD, Danielle, AGAIN! Big breath and PUSH!” -Heather.
While Danielle screams and grunts her baby out, hardly even human anymore, completely lost in the throes of hard labour.
Little by little her huge chunky body comes out, with the effort of Danielle and Heather and the paramedic, and then just like that: Past her hips, she flies out in a massive spray of water and blood with an audible ripping sound and Danielle’s ragged, animal scream. Fluids hit the floor loudly as Heather immediately puts the massive baby on Danielle’s deflating belly as she’s still screaming and gasping, and all professionals get the resus kit ready.
It takes only a minute, but the longest minute of their lives, for the baby to start crying so quietly and weakly, and then she’s shrieking with life and everyone in the room heaves a massive sigh of relief.
When she’s weighed at the hospital later, they learn she’s a whopping 12 pounds three ounces.
It’s the last birth before Srin gets her official certification, and the first intense one of many.
i love the stage of birth when the baby isn't coming out yet but you can see how low it is by how distended their cunt is. you check between their legs and their hole is still closed but you can see it bulging outward underneath, perineum stretching, skin barely containing the baby. teasing them with the promise that it could come out any minute, but without even starting to crown yet. delicious
thinking about a birthing person, who had been so quiet and reserved up until that point, making it through transition and then just going absolutely feral like surging down to be on their hands and knees, head thrown back, face red and sweaty with exertion, body and belly tight and twitching as they try to shove the head out, releasing a primal, splitting scream that drowns out the advice of their supporter as the baby barrels down through their pelvis, pressure and the overwhelming urge to push turning their rational mind animalistic with the need to get it out
long/hard births where not only will the baby not come out, it won't go back in either. just sitting there with a baby stuck in your canal with no way to try to reposition so it'll come out this time - your only option is to push and hope it works this time.
I think my favorite kinds of fictional births are the ones where whoever it's happening to has waited so long that now it's just...happening.
No more time to decide where you want to have this baby, or what position you're going to be in, or literally anything, because it's coming NOW, you're already pushing even though you don't want to, doesn't matter where you are, who you're with, etc.
I like how inevitable it is. Unstoppable.
