Fucking a trans guy raw and just getting lost in pleasure while he milks my cock. Suddenly i’m growling and deep inside him and about to come. We both don’t want to be parents...but I can’t help it. I’m shooting deep inside him and pressing down his hips, rubbing his chest, down to his belly. Imagining it swelling out and shuddering as the last of my seed hits his cervix
His eyes go wide as he feels your resolve, the new effort you're putting into your pleasure. "No... No, stop, you can't!" He starts to squirm under you, trying to pull away, to shift so that you slip out of his entrance. You're too firm, too committed to fulfilling your need using his body, whether he wants you to or not.
"Oh God, oh god no, no not like this, please no..." He starts pleading. "We said we didn't want kids. You said you were ok with that. I could... It could happen. Right now. You promised you wouldn't, that you didn't want to!" You feel yourself tensing, tightening. Can feel your children surfing up from your balls, into your shaft. It burns, aches, your body about to send your burden into this handsome boy's uterus...
He's pushing at you, struggling. "I don't want this! I can't handle it, I'm not kidding! I have nightmares about this happening, please, I'm begging you!" The desperation in his voice, knowing how much your seed is going to force his body to change... It was too much. Even if you still wanted to hold back, you couldn't. Not anymore.
Pinning his shoulders to the bed, you pressed deep and groaned in absolute satisfaction. Letting one hand trail down, over his flat chest, feeling all his body hair as you got lower. Down to his belly.
As he starts to cry you drink in how masculine he looks, how he effortlessly passes day to day. At work, with friends. You're one of the only people in his life that even knows he's trans. And now... You've undone so much of that work. Only a matter of time before he's showing. Before his belly begins to swell out of control, straining at his clothes.
"Oh God, oh god... No, I can't, I can't do this. This can't be happening..." He's muttering, almost to himself, his voice deep, tears running down his cheeks and into his beard. "I won't take. I've been on T too long. You didn't just get me preg... You didn't do it. I won't have to live like that. It's not really happening..."
You walked in on him fighting his pants. Walking up, kissing his forehead, cupping that area just above his public mound. It was barely pressing out.
You didn't say anything as he began to get nauseous in the mornings. Nor as he became fatigued all the time. You didn't point out how firm his middle felt after a couple months.
"You're gonna give birth for me, hon." You whisper, almost growl, and he trembles at the certainty in your statement. "You're having a baby. You're pregnant. A handsome, sexy pregnant man-"
"No I'm not!" He snapped, pushing you away. "I can't be! I can't! I told you I don't want it, ever. It can't be happening. It isn't! I'm not... Not..."
His eyes became watery. You stepped in again. Held him. Cupped his baby bump once more. "Pregnant." You said, smiling, delighting in his struggle even if you knew you shouldn't. "Pregnant. You're pregnant. You're really pregnant. Say it for me..."
He relaxes. Clings to you even as he smacks his fist into your shoulder. "I don't want it..." He whimpers, breaking down. "I'm a guy. I'm a man. I'm just one of the guys, I can't have a baby. I can't be pregnant. I can't just waddle around in front of everyone. What the fuck am I going to wear? What am I going to say? How am I going to... To have it? God... God, fuck, I don't want to have it... I'm so scared. It's not fair. You did this to me even though you knew I didn't want it..."
The handsome man choked back a sob. "Fuck. No. No, I'm not. I'm not. It can't have just happened like that, it's not fair..." You stroke that firm bump, knowing it's just going to get bigger. "Say it... Say you're pregnant. You're having a baby. You're going to open your legs and push for me like a good boy. You're going to give birth. Your pretty vagina is going to spread over the head of our baby, whether you want it to or not..."
You gently shushed him as he cries, words failing him. You knew this would hurt. You knew this would trigger at least a few aspects of his dysphoria, badly, but you knew that when you did it. You didn't care then, and you don't now. Even in his despair he's so handsome. So sexy. It made you feel amazing, know you'd done this to him. That it was your baby inside that body. That it was all your fault that his pants didn't fit anymore, and it was only going to get worse...
You helped him take a test. He broke down again when it was positive. And again when the doctor confirmed it, with an odd look at your boyfriend when he did. It was clear what he was thinking. How he felt as he did the ultrasound, the awkward, stilted speech every time he had to say "Mister" or "Dad-to-be". You could see the mistakes and awkwardness hitting your partner like blows, but you couldn't deny how good it felt, knowing it had been your choice to make home endure this.
You bought him cute shirts, knowing he would hate them. A pink number that said "Seahorse Dad!" A black stretchy T that read "Bun in the Oven!" A pride flag print with "Trans, Pregnant, and Proud!". You'd have given anything to see him wear them, but he refused, as you knew he would.
The poor guy's clothes got tighter and tighter. His belly wouldn't stop growing, and each day you had to fight the urge to moan in delight when he struggled to undo the button, or more often, the pin holding his pants closed, and he just let out a sigh, his baby belly released and pressing out from its confines. The daily struggle just to dress masculine for work was breathtaking, watching him fight to button and close and tuck, without it only emphasizing how obvious the pregnancy was becoming.
He could barely look at you in bed. You loved stripping him. Exposing him. His hairy legs and arms... His flat, fuzzy chest, nipples now large and darkened... His round baby belly covered in soft hair, thinned with how much more space it now had to cover... You would spread his legs, fighting the urge to gasp as you saw how swollen and prominent his T-dick was now, how puffy his vaginal lips were... Pushing into him felt amazing, and he clearly hated how much he loved it. He would wrap his legs around you, panting, crying out, but still not looking at you. Eyes closed, urging you on, as you enjoyed every perfect, unfair concequences of your lust taking over and changing the body he'd worked so hard for...
The day came that he couldn't hide it anymore. His barely buttoned, inappropriate Hawaiian shirt still exposing a strip of skin at best, and if he shifted wrong his increasingly obvious outie. It was impossible to miss or deny.
But you didn't say anything, letting him go to work like that. He called you at lunch and said he'd had to explain to everyone that he was pregnant. Tell his boss he'd need maternity leave. He'd tried to get paternity leave, but his boss had chuckled, shook his head. "That's only for the Dad, not the M-... M-mister who has to birth it. Right. It's why it's so much shorter!"
He'd never felt so exposed, so ashamed of his own body. He came home early, curled up in your arms even though it was all your fault he was like this. He desperately needed comfort, and you were happy to provide.
It only got harder. Nothing of his old wardrobe fit now. He had to go to his job in the humiliating maternity shirts you'd been buying. He tried to cover up with hoodies and sweaters, but it was simply too hot for that. He came home deeply upset most days, random strangers touching his belly without asking, asking when he was due. Telling him how proud he must be to be a mommy.
You tried to make a birth plan, but he couldn't do it. The idea of a baby coming out of his vagina was too much, he'd have a meltdown any time you tried to discuss it. He said he didn't want to keep it, and that was fine by you. You were getting everything you wanted out of this, watching his baby belly swell his masculine frame, seeing the struggle of his body changing against his will, all because of you. You knew it was messed up to delight so much in how hard this was for the poor guy, but there was a beauty to it you couldn't deny. You'd decided he should be like this. You'd made the choice that he should become a pregnant man, even if he didn't want to. So now he was. And it was all your fault.
In the end, it was the two of you. He was laboring in front of you for hours, moaning as he rocked back and forth, whimpering that this wasn't fair, that he didn't want this to happen. You just responded "I know, hon. It doesn't matter what you want though... My baby is coming soon. You're gonna give birth, isn't that exciting?"
He tried not to say anything else, not liking how much you're delighting in this struggle, but as it got worse he couldn't help himself, desperate for comfort and reassurance, which you gave in excess.
Before too long he was naked, on his back, legs spread wide for you. You could see the vagina you'd filled nine months ago, saw the thick, stiff T-dick being angled up as he pushed, his crotch starting to bulge. The pressure was making his member throb with his heartbeat, and it took your breath away. This man was having a baby. He was pushing your baby out of his vagina and it was all because of you. You got a man pregnant and now he was having a baby. It was so unfair, so natural, so perfect.
His body undercut his words. Another contraction cut him off, and he had no choice but to push. You watched his lips strain, then part. You could see that boy pussy opening wide, just as he had seen in his nightmares. "IT BURNS IT BURNS!!! ITS COMING OUT OH FUCK I CAN' DO THIS, I DON'T WANT TO HAVE A BABY!!!"
"Ohhh god make it stop make it stop it hurts!!!" He cried, gulping in breaths as you tried to hide your arousal. "I can't do this! I don't want to have a baby!"
It didn't matter what he wanted. You'd impregnated him, and that was enough. The only thing that mattered. Your baby was being born from this trans man, you'd created a life inside him and now he had no choice but to reward you for it. He wailed in agony, voice deep and masculine, toes curling as he gripped the floor. It was agony for him as the head crowned his slit wider and wider. "Please don't make me do this!"
There was nothing you could do even if you wanted to. And you didn't. This was everything you wanted. You had already decided you needed it to happen again, even if it ruined his life. You needed this man to become your beautiful, perfect baby factory, even if he despised every single pregnancy you forced him to endure...
"It's coming OOOUUUTTT!!!" He wailed, pushing with all his might as the head slid down and out of him, the shoulders coming quickly after. A masculine, quick, powerful birth, shuddering and crying as the rest of the body slid free.
You took the newborn that had just slid from the handsome boy who's life you changed forever. He wouldn't look at it or you. Clearly doing this had felt even more awful that you'd hoped. A violation of not just his body, but his identity, for nine long months.
You promised to be more careful, that he'd never have to go through this nightmare again.
In five months he was crying over another positive test...
idea/fantasy: i’m your overdue trans guy roommate. i share everything with you not knowing about your kink. i’ve started complaining about how sick I am of being pregnant, eventually you give into temptation and offer your help. you use teas and herbs and massages to jumpstart my labor. i comply happily, appreciating the help, and am even excited when i feel the first light contractions, i even have you time them to figure out when i should head to the hospital. i have no idea what i’m in for. 12 hours later im still in our apartment, totally at your mercy. i realized far too late why you’d been so eager to assist, and now i’m stuck on the bathroom floor trying to bring a 12lb baby to crown. i’m shouting and crying hysterically as each push wrenches me open, and there’s still a massive bulge sitting just inside. i’ve long given up on begging, the only help you’ll give is to hold my thighs wide apart so you can enjoy the show.
fuckkk anon, that sounds like the dream. getting the chance to see your huge belly everyday would already be great - i'd always be watching you, seeing how your struggle grows everyday, how you're constantly rubbing circles into your aching back and strained bump, hurting all over even before the contractions first started.
i have to bite my tongue when you say you're sick of being pregnant. i would love to see you like this a little longer, just to see how much more weight you'd be able to carry on your slim hips. but i also can't deny i'm excited for your labor. the desire to see you scream out your baby is far stronger than the wish to see you pregnant. so i help you kickstart your labor, and fuck the sight of you doubling over, moaning and panting in pain, every time a contraction hits, is just exquisite.
you're too busy riding out the waves of pain to notice my grin as i time your contractions and announce how short the pauses become, getting closer and closer to the real deal. i reach over to touch your massive belly every now and then, you lean into my hand not yet realising that it's not the touch of a friend trying to be supportive but more akin to a predator toying with its prey. i can't get enough of feeling your bump contracting harshly, and hearing you moan and grunt.
i keep up the act for so long, i start to internally laugh at your naive nature. only when you say it's time to go to the hospital and i flatly deny it, do you become suspicious. suspicion turns to nervousness when you insist and i still don't comply, and then slowly morphs into panic, the clearer it becomes i'm serious and not just playing a mean joke. you become frantic, your words become pleading. i find i enjoy it massively. you've sunken to your knees, the contractions too strong to stay standing, and you're clutching your distended, rippling belly, tears forming in your eyes. you're begging, you're begging for quite some time. you cry, panicked, when i force my fingers inside you to check your dilation - you're dilating fast.
it takes hours until you give up and surrender to your fate of being my own personal entertainment. by now you're too deep into labor to try and argue anymore anyway. your panting and moaning has turned to screaming and sobbing. transition was definitely one of my favorite things to witness - the most painful part of labor. the way you shrieked and thrashed, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. it lasted almost two hours, and i was thrilled the entire time, couldn't take my eyes off you for a single moment. i was kind of disappointed when it was over and you calmed down a little to take a breather. i decided you needed a proper birthing place - if you kept doing it here, our fine carpet might get dirty with your fluids. i dragged you to your feet, forcing you to walk to the bathroom despite the unbearable pressure in your pelvis. gravity brought the baby down faster.
and now we're here, on the bathroom floor. we have been for several hours now. the head is truly enormous, that bulge is probably the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. your skin stretched taut, an angry bruised red, and your lips fluttering around the top of the baby's head, trying to open up enough to let it pass. you've been trying for so long and still can barely get it crowning. i'm surprised you even got it all the way to your lips through your narrow hips if i'm honest.
your shouting and crying is music to my ears. your trembling, sweating body and your face scrunched up in agony are what my dreams are made of. i've watched you for twelve hours already, i'll gladly watch you for another twelve, or even more. i don't want it to end. i'll wait until you've got the head to a crown - i want to see how you react to the famous ring of fire, i want to see you writhe and wail as the burning stretch reaches its widest, most agonizing point -, i'll let you have that feeling of success for a few minutes because i'm not a monster, despite what you may think right now, you know? you can feel happy about your accomplishment. and when you've had your share, i'll place my hand on your bulging pussy.
didn’t i say i'd love to see you pregnant a bit longer but prefer seeing you suffer through labor? well, i realised... why choose when i can have both? i'll place my hand on the baby's head and give it a nice gentle shove. oh, the scream you let out as that white hot pain sears through your nether region up into your entire body will be glorious
been trying to post this like 3 times now and it keeps getting flagged how do I fix it frfr like what am I doing wrong, :( had lore on this before but I’m tired and it might not even work so fuck that
figuring out formatting for this shit, why tumblr gotta be so difficult wtf. this is from a while ago and one of the first birth/pregnancy kink I did,p anyway pls pray for me I’m not sick just crazyt✌️ '
