Storm

I'm 23/F and so fucking horny DM me some hot scenarios♡ Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/stormycunny.bsky.social X: https://x.com/Painful_crown3?t=YsDetotsWWFwUZdGw6ebVQ&s=09

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Birthday Present

For my RP Partner in crime, my writing hubby @cowboybassett

We didn’t have anything over the top planned for your 30th birthday, but still, I wanted you to have the best day. Our lives were soon about to change, a baby on the way, any day in fact. Before that all happened I wanted to make sure you had a birthday that was all about you. A nice dinner, a trip to the cinema to see the latest horror film you were so keen on. Nothing fancy, just us. 

Two days before your birthday, the baby dropped. A noticeable shift where the weight was settled - deeper - nestled right in the bowl of my pelvis. Of course you noticed. “Your bump is lower darlin’.” You’d say. “You’ve got more of a waddle now.” 

The day before your birthday I began to feel cramps. Nothing too strong, but enough for me to notice that tensing of muscles beneath the swell of my belly, the dull ache like a period cramp twisting my insides. I wasn’t worried, it was our first baby, even if they were real contractions there was no guarantee they’d continue or be productive. But just in case, I moved all of our plans. Even though your birthday was tomorrow, on some level I must have known what was going to happen. I changed the dinner reservations, the cinema tickets, and moved them a day earlier. You accepted the excuse I gave - about discounts and buy-one-get-one-free offers - not questioning your heavily pregnant wife. Anything for an easy life. 

The contractions however… they didn’t really stop. In the shower before dinner I was leaning against the tile and breathing my way through them. My hips moving in slow circles and letting the warm water ease the constant ache in my lower back. They weren’t too frequent but definitely more noticeable. Soon my make up was done, my hair was clipped, my dress tight in all the right places, and you were none the wiser that we were getting closer to becoming parents. 

Dinner went by quickly, even with the regular contractions I was ravenous. As if my body knew that I needed sustenance to keep my strength up. We laughed and joked, recalling memories, planning our future. It was perfect. You had a steak and your favourite bourbon, your smile bright behind the beard as you gazed upon me and my bump. 

Walking to the cinema from the restaurant took more effort than I’d hoped. The baby’s head was so low I could feel it with every heavy step that I took, right between my hips. You didn’t rush me, allowed me to move at whatever pace I needed and kept your arm firm around my waist. Your thumb affectionately rubbing the side of the bump that was keeping the fabric of my dress stretched to its maximum. When the wave of tightness peaked I kept on walking, breathing slowly and holding you tight. “Just more braxton hicks” I said airily, before you could question. 

Sitting in the cinema seat wasn’t comfortable. They were large wide seats, so that wasn’t the issue, it was the ache in my pelvis making it impossible to sit straight. My legs naturally spread, the evidence of your baby low and heavy between my thighs. You got us drinks and snacks, tapped my belly affectionately before holding my hand, knowing I’d be scared. You knew I didn’t like scary films, but it was your birthday so I agreed to go. Throughout the movie I gripped your hand tight, but it wasn’t due to the jump scares happening on screen. The contractions were becoming more regular, more insistent, and each one seemed to shift the baby just that fraction lower. You didn’t seem to notice how often I was wriggling in my seat, my hand cradling my bump while the other interlocked my fingers with yours and held you close. I really didn’t like scary films, which right now helped to cover the fact that I was slipping further and further into active labour. 

At the end of the movie the lights came on and you helped me to stand. In my haste to move off the damn seat I knocked my drink out the holder on the arm of the seat, sending it flying across my lap and onto the floor. I was soaked. We both laughed, a soft grunt coming from my throat as I rose to my feet. Neither of us realised that at that moment, my waters broke. 

By the time we got home it was getting harder to keep the contractions from you. I was so focused on giving you a perfect birthday I didn’t dare time them, but even without a clock I knew they were getting closer. Standing in the kitchen getting myself a glass of water I found my hips rocking and I made a soft humming sound. You must have taken that as a cue, not that I was in labour but to put music on. Your hands gently rested on my shoulders, massaging them before working down to my waist and spinning me to face you. “H-have you had a nice day?” I asked, the tail end of a contraction making my breathing heavier than normal. You kissed me and held me close, wrapping your hands around my waist and swaying us both in time to the music. 

It was wonderful. The moment was so calm and peaceful, safe in the privacy of our own home, knowing your birthday was tomorrow and I could then give you the best present of all. Delivering your own baby on your birthday just like you wanted. Being so relaxed in your embrace my guard slipped. The next contraction that struck made my whole body tighten, my hands lacing behind your neck as I used you as a crutch, rocking and moaning through the wave that pressed right down between my legs. 

You didn’t say anything at first, let me move and moan as I needed, but the look you gave me when it was over - the mix of excitement and worry and scolding when you realised I’d be actively hiding my contractions. I tried to explain how I wanted you to have all the birthday treats we’d planned, but another contraction happened so fast after the last that my knees buckled. The groan that came from my mouth was low, deep, a sign of just how far the baby had dropped. 

We were planning a home birth anyway, but all our supplies were either in our bedroom or the nursery. You helped me to move once the contraction ended, knowing we needed to be upstairs. It was slow moving, I hadn’t fully realised just how wide my gait had gotten over the course of the evening. Half way up the flight of steps I had to stop, immediately bending forward to grip the carpet and planting my knees wide on a lower step. “How long have you been in labour darlin’?” You asked, rubbing my back as I worked through the contraction as best I could. “Unghh…. All—day— ooooohhh” I breathed out, trying to pant through the pressure that was getting exponentially worse. 

I had to crawl the rest of the way up the stairs, unable to stand upright with how tight and firm my belly was staying. It felt like there was no break between the waves any more… but that couldn’t be right, labour was supposed to take days. I wanted to give birth on your birthday, to deliver you the best and most perfect present. I didn’t know the time but I knew we were still a while away from midnight. The baby would simply have to wait. I’d put in too much effort to time this whole thing, they weren’t ruining it for me now. 

I staggered rather ungainly into our bedroom making a beeline for our king size bed. Palms against the mattress I hummed long and deep with another twisting contraction, shifting trying to escape the deep pressure between my legs. You stayed right by my side, hands on my hips as I rocked them, whispering encouraging words in my ear. You didn’t panic… or if you did you didn’t let it show. You were my rock, my iron pillar of strength, and boy was I needing it now. 

“T-tub—” I panted out, “fill the tub.” 

I had meant the birth pool but instead you ran off into our en-suite and I heard water running into our bath. It wasn’t what I wanted but perhaps you knew I was closer to giving birth than I was admitting, perhaps you knew we wouldn’t have time to fill the giant birth pool we had bought. By the time you came back I was clawing at my clothing trying to get them off. Everything felt too constricted, too tight, the damn dress I had chosen for dinner now felt like a straight jacket. The next contraction was already happening before either of us could get anywhere with the zip on my dress. All I could do was lean into the mattress, shoving my hips right back against you, and growl as the pressure amplified between my hips. 

God! It felt like I could almost push…. I started panting through the notion, firmly ignoring the idea. That wasn’t happening, not now. It wasn’t your birthday yet! I begged you to hold my hips, to squeeze them together against the feeling of my pelvis being widened around the skull of our baby. Your body pressed against mine, I could smell your cologne, the feel of your hands on my hips and your closeness keeping me from spiralling out of control. 

“I think I need to check ya darlin’” you cooed softly, quietly, as if you didn’t want to spook a wounded animal. 

“No!” I grit my teeth, circling my hips and panting heavily. “I’m fine!” 

“You sure about that honey? You’re sounding awfully like you need to push…?” 

Lifting my head I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, sweat dampening my hair and sticking to my cheek. 11:15pm, dammit. “No… don’t need p-push….” 

When the bath had filled you asked if I wanted to move to the bathroom and get in the tub. The idea of warm water cushioning the pain in my hips sounded heavenly. I nodded. But the second I tried to move I shook my head and slammed my hands back against the mattress. Fuck… it feels like the baby is going to fall out of me! 

I bent over the mattress and lowered to my elbows, my hips sank backwards and my feet widened on the floor. “Oohhhhhh no….” I whimpered through yet another contraction that was trying to get me to push. Fists gripping sheets, breath sharp and erratic, I couldn’t cope. 

“Honey… you need to push.” You said calmly but firmly, your body encased mine as you stood behind me with your hands never leaving my hips. Your voice was a whisper over my shoulder and your lips nuzzled against the nape of my neck. 

“It—it’s not your b-birthday y-yet—” I cried into the duvet, feeling my own body begin to betray me. Muscles clenching around the weight in my womb, squeezing it down down down. 

“What’s my birthday got to do…. Oh darlin’.” An exasperated sigh came from your lips, followed by a quiet giggle. “I only said that as a joke and to make you feel better. To show you I wouldn’t mind if you went into labour on my birthday. I didn’t mean you had to hold the baby in until then. Is that why you won’t push?” 

I was too deep into labour to understand. You were saying words but my mind couldn’t process anything except the word push. My uterus contracted, my knees widened, my body bore down without permission. “No no no no!!!!” I jumped up, a shaky hand disappearing up my dress between my legs, instinctively cupping my entrance. It felt different, the shape, it… it was bulging. The head was right there! 

You saw my struggle, watched as I desperately clung to my plan, attempting to stop myself from pushing. “Darlin’… the baby is coming. You need to push.” You urged. “No!” I snapped through gritted teeth and pressed up between my legs. 

I didn’t notice your hand moving until it joined mine between my thighs. “It’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” You whispered, nudging my fingers away from the growing bulge of my underwear. The next contraction was starting and I was unsteady with only one hand on the mattress. Against my better judgement I let go of the emerging head and put both hands back on the mattress, trembling from head to toe as the wave of pressure took full control of my body. Your hand cupped gently between my thighs and I heard your sharp intake of breath as you felt the evidence of my labouring. Our baby, sitting just inside my body waiting to come out. 

“You can push darlin’, I won’t let em come out.” Your buttery soft voice completely evaporated any resolve I had left. My muscles were pushing before any conscious decision was made, the act primal and desperate and completely outside of my control. I grunted with effort, the sound gravelled and powerful and I felt your body shiver behind me. 

Once the floodgates had been opened there was no more holding back. Every contraction had me bearing down against your palm, bringing more and more of the head into your hand. Heavy, undeniable, stretching me wider and wider beneath my underwear. I could feel every millimetre of progress, but I could also feel the counterpressure of your hand as it gently cupped upwards against my skin. The baby was coming, the sheer fact was burning between my legs, and yet you weren’t letting too much progress be made. 

“Unnnghhh—it’s—gonna fall out!!!!” 

“No it ain’t, I got you… I got the baby… and they ain’t coming until you say so okay?” 

We stood beside our king size bed, fully clothed, wrapped around each other as I pushed over and over into your palm. It was primal and natural and wonderful and intimate. Every sound I made was music to your ears and you kissed my neck and shoulders every time a beautiful grunt of effort slipped from my throat. Time stood completely still. There was only us, our baby, and this moment. 

And then the moment was broken, a ringing sound coming from my phone in my handbag that had been cast aside when we entered the bedroom. I was confused who would be calling me at this time before I remembered the alarm. I had set a reminder to go off at midnight - when it was officially your birthday. I lifted my head, sweaty and flushed, panting heavily between contractions. Looking over my shoulder I saw your twinkling eyes as you held me. 

“Happy B-Birthday my love…” I whispered through a soft giggle. Fully aware of how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

You kissed me, deep and passionately, one hand around my bump while the other was keeping our baby from crowning. The next contraction began while we were kissing and I grunted into your mouth as my body bore down once more. You pulled away, grinning like the cat who got the cream. 

“Are you ready to have a baby now darlin?” 

Before I could even answer, your hand softened its counterpressure, staying close but no longer holding back the inevitable. Immediately I pushed, wild and primal, spreading my knees wide as I bore down with everything that I had. So full, so heavy, so stretched… It was incredible. There was only one way out and I submitted completely to Mother Nature with your strong arms holding me up as I worked to bring forth our babe. Within seconds the head reached its widest point and I cried out as it scolded my skin, white hot flames between my legs. But then it stopped, replaced with sheer unbridled relief as the whole baby came out fully in one go right into the gusset of my underwear. 

“Oh my god….” My knees buckled and we both sank to the floor beside our bed. Your hands were quick to fish the baby out from the lace cotton and when you brought the wailing newborn up to my chest I whispered “H-hope you like your present.” 

[transforgaytion]

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.

[n3birth]

Witch giving birth

[thepregkeeper]

Breakroom Birth

Includes: Birth, public-ish birth

Heavily inspired by Arkone's drawing of the same subject! (Linked below, I couldn't figure out how to embed it without the embed being massive.)

"Dude, you- you gotta keep it down, someone's gonna find us!"

I shot a glare over my shoulder back at you. Between panting breaths, I shot back.

"You... You try shoving... A bowling ball out your... Your pussy..!"

"Sorry, I just- We're not in a very public place, y'know?"

I let out a groan. Yes, I did know, of course I fucking knew that the breakroom wasn't very private. Unfortunately, I had no other choice.

Seeing my distress, the hand you had on the small of my back restarted its gentle rubs. I whimpered and pushed my butt back towards you, the rub managing to to soothe the pain a little.

"Just- Huuh- Keep doing that..." I grumbled. You nodded and gave my back a little pat.

The only reason I was in this position was my own stubborness and because of a boy named Jamie. We had only dated for a little while last year, but the effects he had on me was painfully obvious. The huge fleshy orb that currently hung between my thighs was the result of a little too much indulgence, which was partially my fault. Jamie didn't look like the kind of boy to be absolutely amazing at sex, but he had been, and despite the relationship turning toxic pretty quickly I didn't make any serious moves to leave him.

So he left me as soon as I texted him a picture of the positive pregnancy test. Just total no contact. There wasn't even a formal breakup, he just never replied to my text or any of my calls. It took me a while to get over him leaving me, and even longer to accept what he had left me with. The sex was another story though

So now I was here, with my pants around my ankles and nobody but you in the breakroom of our summer job. It was a small room, but it was only us and our shift manager that day. Where he was, I had no clue, but I didn't exactly care either. I was too preoccupied with the enormous mass waiting just behind my bulging labia for me to push it out.

I let out a shaky groan, putting my head back into my arms where they sat crossed on the small, coffee-stained table. I opened up my legs a little wider, shuffling my feet apart until my pants were stretched taut. Getting them off would have been a good idea, but I could work with this. I would have to. As you stood beside me, rubbing just above the curve of my ass, I bore down.

Peering behind me, you were able to watch my fuzzy lips finally split open, a red-hairer head slowly emerging in time with my grunts. Yellowish fluid drooled down my crotch, ran down my thighs, and pooled in my pants where most of my sac had exploded, and I do mean exploded, into the soaked cloth maybe 30 minutes earlier. You checked your watch. 40 minutes ago, actually.

"Fuuuuuck, it buuuuurrrnnns..." My muffled complaint made you take your eyes away from the slowly advancing head and look at the back of mine.

"Yeah, I know it does, just keep going," You mumbled to me. "The head's starting to come out, you're almost done with this. You're doing good." What followed was a string of mumbled curses from me as my lips continued to widen around the head until my womb relaxed and I let out a loud sigh.

Looking back at my pussy, you saw that the sliver of red hair had advanced quite nicely. You suddenly wanted to reach down and feel it, but with my mood being as it was, I very well might have torn your hand off for it.

"Is it almost out..?" I suddenly mumbled.

"Uh, it's getting there." You replied. I growled in response.

"What uhm..." I was a lot quieter this time. "What color is their hair..?"

You blinked. "It's like yours. Red. Or ginger, or, uh..." You glanced back down at my bulging pussy, but that was all I needed to hear. I let out a relieved sigh, my body relaxing a little.

"Just keep pushing, you got this."

"Not like I can do anythi- Urrrgggggk-" I was cut off by my womb tensing up again, and the head began to slowly slide further out of me. You continued with your slow circles on my back as my hips wiggled slightly. My moans cut off halfway through the push as I bit down on my arm, but they came back a second later, just muffled through my flesh. My lips spread wider and wider as I relentlessly pushed, your eyes glued to the movement in my crotch.

"Urrrgggh, get ooouuuttt..." I groaned as the contraction died off. My legs trembled, knees slightly bent as the head came to a stop. I had pushed it into a lopsided oval, not quite the full 'O' that denoted a full crown yet. But I was sure close. If you had to guess, I would definitely get there next push. With how fast I was making progress you wouldn't be surprised if I pushed the head out entirely too.

You blinked. How fast was I going? Ever my waters had broken right in front of you neither of us had been watching the time. Looking up at the simple clock on the wall, your heart skipped a beat.

"Uh... We're kind of running out of time here. Our break's over in like, two minutes.

"WHAT?!" I suddenly shouted.

"Hey, keep it down! We might get cau-"

"I don't give a fuuuuuck if I "get caught" goddammit," I snarled. "I am literally. Giving. Birth!"

You winced. "Right, sorry, I just... Y'know..." I groaned.

"If you... Want to go back to work... Be my guest." I huffed out. "But I don't think I can move until this brat is out."

You nodded. Not like you could do much else. I had very loudly stated many, many times that I abhored the idea of giving birth in a hospital, even before I had gotten pregnant. Something about it only becoming the normal way to give birth because it made hospitals tons of money..? Again, another non-concern right now. All you, and I, really cared about was making sure the baby was safely delivered.

And right on time, I pushed my face back into my arms as you glanced down to see my womb tense up underneath my shirt. Sweat rolled down my taut flesh and onto my quivering thighs as I pushed the baby into a slow crown. My voice increased in pitch as I was spread wider and wider. My lips went white as the blood drained from them, the head proving to be quite large. At least, you thought it was large for a baby. You had never seen anyone give birth before, and I was over a week overdue. My whimpers and grunted curses made it obvious we shared the same thought about the baby's size. All you could do was continue rubbing my back, glancing between my pussy and the clock on the wall.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, uuuuggggh..." I suddenly cried out, my knees bending further as the head reached a breaking point. My back fell away from your hand, leaving you to stand there and watch as I bore down hard. "It'sgonnacomeout, it'sgonnacomeout, ohmy- GOOOOOOODDDD-"

I yelled as my butt sunk down even further, the head finally coming free from my body with another explosive gush of musky fluids. I quickly stood back up, my knees suddenly locked tight as my whole body shook. You stayed silent, unsure of what to do with the sight before you. It was beautiful, in a way, the young woman bent over the table with her head in her arms and her heavy belly visibly tightened underneath her half naked body. You could feel a little warmth in your own crotch and it only took you a second to get embarassed about it. Luckily, my head was still in my arms and I couldn't see your reaction to me.

I suddenly rose up though, using my palms to push my body up. I panted as I leaned on the table, my knees bending ever so slightly to keep my blood flowing. The last thing I needed was my legs giving out from under me.

"Shiiiiiiiittt..." My mouth hung open as I gulped down air. "Fucking- Hell... Was that the- The- Uh-"

You nodded. Stupid, I couldn't see you. "Yeah, yeah the head's out." You said a moment later. I nodded.

"Catch."

"What?"

I rolled my eyes, then looked back at you with a glare.

"Catch the baby, dumbass. When I start pushing again. The fuck did you not understand?"

Your face went a little red, but you nodded and prepared to do as I said. You quickly kneeled behind me, ignoring the splattering of fluids around my feet and reaching out for the head. My hips slowly swayed from side to side as I waited for the next contraction, grunting as the baby turned in my body. You got to see it up close, watching with a sudden fascination as it both of us prepared for the final stretch. Literally

Your rather inappropriate thoughts about the sight mere inches from your face were brushed aside as I groaned and suddenly stood straight up. You had to scoot closer, practically putting your face in my butt in order to catch the baby. Gripping my thighs, I yelled as I pushed one last time. The baby stayed perfectly still. For about five seconds.

It sunk out slightly, and you saw a shoulder pop out of my pussy, then it very quickly slid from my body and into your hands with the rest of my amniotic fluids. You wrinkled your nose as your hands were coated in fluid, but you caught the baby. I didn't make a sound, but I sunk back onto the table, sweaty palms slamming down on the cheap plastic. I gave something between a whimper and a growl as I felt the heavy weight that had taken ten months to grow finally, finally exit me. You just knelt there, staring at the squirming child in your hands.

You didn't know anything about babies, but it sure was heavy.

I muttered something you didn't catch, which prompted a "Huh?" from you.

"Thanks." Was all I could mumble out

"Yeah, uh, no problem. Do you, uh, want them? Uh, him?"

I blinked. "A boy..?"

"Yeah, it's a boy. Congrats?"

I gave a tired laugh. "Of course its a boy. Heavy ass brat..."

I bent down to retrieve the child that was now beginning to cry, an awkward hand-over between my legs. Once you were sure my shaky hands wouldn't drop the infant, you stood back up. Hissing, I turned around, leaning back against the little table. We both stared at the baby, equally dumbstruck that it had just come out of my body.

"Well-" I started, but a voice from outside interrupted me.

"Alright you two, breaktime's been looooong since over. I know we haven't had many customers today, but I need-" Our manager stopped mid-sentence as he finally saw the messy scene in the breakroom. We both looked at him, but his eyes were glued to the newborn crying in my arms.

"Uh-" He started.

"I'll drive her home, I'll be right back, I swear." You said without thinking. He nodded, his gaze flickering to the cord that still connected me and the child. "Yeah, uh, take your time. I'll... Clean this up." He said, visibly dumbstruck.

I sighed, my head tilting up at the ceiling as you scrambled for the keys to your car.

What a shift.

(The artwork that inspired the story!)

Rule 34

Rule 34 - If it exists, there is porn of it. We have pokemon, my little pony, Other hentai, whatever you want.

[crowninginmypanties]

Bro… hngggggg… can you… keep it down out there? Hngggg!!!!! I’m… I’m whelping 100 pups… at least… fuck, I can’t stop WHELPING!

Bro I thought you were just taking a shower… I never said you could whelp in my house… wait, did you say 100?

I know bro… I’m a gay, cock addicted… hnggggg… birth slut. But just because I whelp for the homies… hngggggg… doesn’t mean you have to point it out while I’m spilling pups in a huge pile between my legs…

Bro… don’t tell anyone… but you’re so fucking sexy when you’re whelping… I have to get you pregnant next, dude. Fuck, I want you so bad… it’s not gay though…

You better knock me up good bro… I wanna whelp hundreds of pups for you…

You’re so fucking good at whelping, dude… we’re gonna have so many pups… oh fuck bro, I need my cock in you right fucking now

[wizardpregnant]

egggggggg

[crowninginmypanties]

Pregnant femboy model forced to walk the catwalk over and over for a big show while he’s deep in labor, water broken long ago, every single step, every jostle, every accidental push lowers the enormous pup that’s so very low in his birth canal. Soon he starts bulging hard, quickly coming to a crown during one of the outfits. Finally, his last outfit is a bikini, and he isn’t crowning *too* hard, so someone holds a hand gently but firmly over his crowning hole, letting him fruitlessly push into their hands while they dress him in his faggy little bikini. His tits are beginning to leak milk through the bikini top, and in order to walk, he has to spread his legs soooo very wide, barely able to waddle down the catwalk while the bulge in his bikini *quickly* grows bigger and bigger while he tries his hardest to get down the catwalk. Finally he reaches the end, poses for pictures, and turns around, but his instincts take over completely, dropping him down to all fours, crowning in full view of the audience, photographers snapping pictures constantly as he whelps 8 massive pups for everyone who decided to show up that day.

[distended-domes]

I miss this blog so much 😭. I forgot to put my age in my bio initially and got blocked (as you should) and I haven’t been able to read and of their old or new posts. Which sucks because it was one of my favorites 😔. If anyone could do me a favor and actually message them for me I would be immensely grateful. Although they’d probably have to unblock my main and not this one. @crowninginmypanties

[bigpushes]

mutual birth with a domme who finds herself in labor at the same time as her sub and struggles to try to hide her contractions and then hide the fact that she's pushing while she guides her sub through their own birth— she's tied the wrists of her sub to the bedframe, leaving them flat on their back and curved over their belly while they push to give her the best possible view of what's happening between their legs; she kneels on the bed in front of them and keeps her thighs squeezed tightly together, sweat beading on her brow as she guides her sub through their pushing ("you're doing so well for me, pet" and "spread those legs just a little bit wider for me" and "im going to need you to push harder than that" and "there you go, thaaaaaats it" and "you look so perfect like this, that sweet little pussy bulging wide open for me, you're going to be crowning soon- can you feel that?") all the while fighting off the very same instincts— the head of her own baby is grinding down through her birth canal and past the tight ring of her cervix and just as her sub begins to show their first signs of crowning, the urge to push becomes too strong to ignore and she can't fight it anymore.

she falls back onto the bed and grabs hold of her thighs, pulling her legs back towards her chest as she frantically bears down, eager to get her birth over with as quickly as possible so that she can get back to the experience of watching her sub. "just... need to get it out." she grits her teeth and shoves, the naked swell of her belly pulled so low and taut that it blocks the sight of her bulging cunt.

"y-you've been pushing?" they cry, twisting against their restraints so that they can get a clearer view of her without the obstruction of their belly in the way. "don't- hnnnnngah-ah- don't rush it like that! you'll tear."

she shakes her head, rising up on her heels and bringing one hand down to cup her gaping vagina. her perineum bulges into her palm as she inhales and pushes again, and she grunts as she feels the lips of her pussy slowly start to part. "just let me do it. its- fuck, its coming anyway. cant stop it."

her sub stares at her with wide eyes, caught off guard by seeing her so uninhibited. so animalistic. she looks both frantic and determined, bearing down with gravity as the unrelenting urge to deliver the baby consumes her. "crowning," she announces through gritted teeth, skin flushed and dripping with sweat. "just... just breathe for me, 'kay? i'm almost- hoooo, almost d-doneeee."

they do take in a deep breath, momentarily distracted from the stinging pain between their own legs as they watch the sight happening between hers.

"one more," she mumbles to herself, head slipping just past a full crown. her hand trembles around it as she provides as much support as she can, body powered by pure adrenaline. "just one more- p-pushhhh."

the slide of the head's emergence is slow, and she feels every bit of the burn as the lips of her cunt stretch around the head. "get... out," she roars, throwing her head back as her hips jut forward—the head pops free in a burst of fluid, dangling between her thighs just for a moment before a final push sends it sliding onto the fluid soaked sheets beneath her.

"okay," she mutters, giving her wailing infant- a daughter, much larger in size than the rapid nature of her birth would have suggested- a quick once over. "okay, okay. I did it."

her attention immediately shifts back to her sub, currently panting their way through a contraction as the head of their own baby begins to peek through their furled slit. "now," she says, still somewhat breathless. "where were we, pet?"

[gravid-transluna]

I love birthing noises. When the baby drops real low, and you can’t control your breathing anymore. Can’t even speak. You’re just diminished to grunts, moaning and groaning as you bear down uncontrollably.

You don’t care if people hear you anymore. The only thought in your mind is the need to give birth.

[mikeyisfreakey]

🫃🍼2️⃣🚗🩲🔌🔒⏳🛑🏳️✋🪑💨⁉️

- @distended-domes

Traffic was slow and silent that day. Stan and Elijah sat bumper to bumper as they had been since Stan’s water broke on their driveway. A sharp inhale brought Elijah’s hand to the top of Stan’s belly.

“Fuck they’re getting worse, how-ugh-how far is the hospital?” He shook with every word, feeling every muscle in his abdomen tighten more and more.

“30 minutes… but the gps tacked an hour onto that so we’ll see.”

“Uh ahhh fuckkkk I can’t do this, it hurts so bad.” Elijah stroked his cheek, waiting for the contraction to give way.

“It hasn’t been that long, I’m sure you still have time.” But it lasted even longer than the last one, and he had even less time until the next one.

“I can’t do this… I can’t do this… I-I think I need to push.” But Stan knew he needed to push. He’d managed to ignore it for a while but it only got worse.

“No. No! We need to get to the hospital I mean look at you! You’re massive and overdue, what if you need a c-section?” Stan cried out, gripping onto the car door and Elijah’s shoulder. He couldn’t think about the worst case scenarios and he couldn’t think about c-sections, all he could think about was pushing.

“It’s coming! I’m pushing! I-I-I can’t stop!” Stan bore down long and hard. He couldn’t hear Elijah telling him to try and hold back, he didn’t see his pussy already bulging in his tight boxer briefs trying to make room for the first kid, and he didn’t notice Elijah pulling over.

“Baby… this can’t happen in the car.” Elijah looked at him fearfully. He knew what he had to do, and he knew it was going to suck.

“I can’t stop… the pressure is so much, and I can’t deny this urge.” Stan threw his head back, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the feeling returned.

“Listen… there are some things we can do to stop it from happening-“

“Yes. Whatever it is just… yes. I can’t have this baby in the car, it hurts so bad and I’m so big.” Stan had pondered whether or not twins would be easier than delivering the belly he perceived as one giant kid, but he’d convinced himself it was just one baby, big enough to break him

Elijah reached into the back and pulled out a bag. In it, some toys. Stan knew what had to happen.

“Ok, your boxers are very, very tight. I think… if you can’t stop yourself from pushing they should stop it. If not…” Elijah pulled out a smooth, squishy plug and a chastity belt.

Stan gritted his teeth and scrunched his face up. “Please… drive.” He did his best to stop himself from pushing. It was agony, and every minute; every contraction, the pressure was more and more and more. He was already miserable by the time Elijah managed to get back on the road, but he was fully immersed in his own determination not to push by the time the car made it two feet. “I can’t do it… I’m so sorry baby.” Stan groaned and gave in, but Elijah wasn’t mad. He was terrified, but he wasn’t mad. After Stan finally released the push he looked down. His pussy was still bulging like crazy, but now the slit was solid.

“Ok love he’s teardropping. Do you think you can try and hold back again?” Stan closed his eyes tight and tried, but he felt the baby beginning to crown. He shook his head aggressively. “Ok hon… don’t be mad.” Stan looked at him teary eyed and watched his hand find the scalp. His fingers spread around his stretched lips and bulging head and slowly began to apply pressure.

“Ahhhhhh! It hurts! D-don’t stop!” Stan couldn’t even make any noise to deliver the feeling of his own progress being ruined. Every millimeter made him want to push exponentially more, but he knew he couldn’t. Slowly and strenuously he brought his hands to his waistband and tried to peel the soaked underwear off. Elijah stopped for only a moment to bring them to his knees and Stan was forced to hold the descending head in place. Before he knew it, there was a plug in his fluttering hole.

“I’m sorry baby we just-“

“No. I can’t have this baby in a car. You’re helping.” Stan’s words descended into a whine, and he felt his body trying to get it out. Elijah could see him shaking, and he saw his cunt trying to expel the plug. He put a hand on it and kissed his lover. They locked eyes and Stan cried out. “It wants out! I’m trying to so hard!” Stan began to cry and Elijah wiped the tears away.

“We can try the belt… it would let it move down a bit.” Stan swallowed hard and nodded. He gritted his teeth and held onto Elijah’s shoulder hard as he moved his hand away. With a pop the plug came out and you could see the head attempting to barrel down. Elijah managed to get the front of the belt on, and Stan sobbed as he sat up for the latch in the back

Stan began to giggle slightly through his sobs. “I think… I’m more upset about not being able to see it than I am about not being able to push.” Elijah burst out laughing and put his arm around him, planting a loving kiss on his cheek.

“We’re going to spend lots of time with this little one don’t you worry. You can stare at the top of its head for as long as you’d like.” Stan still felt miserable, sore, and desperate to push, but things weren’t so bad when he had Elijah with him.

“Oh fuck. Ohhh hmmmm… I’m not… gonna…” Stan closed his eyes and batted at Elijah for a hand to squeeze. He gave it, happily, and encouraged his husband.

“Don’t talk. Just focus. You can do this.” Stan’s chest heaved as the contraction ended after a few minutes.

“I can’t do it… it’s too low… it burns so fucking much Eli.” Stan whined as the next one followed almost immediately. “It’s trying to get out, I can’t do it! Please… please just let me.”

Elijah stopped for a second and pondered before regaining his consciousness. “Stan, baby, the hospital will be so much safer. I just… need you to be ok.”

“Aggghh… Elijah that’s very sweet, but - Ugh FUCK - I will be ok once I get it out.” Stan threw his hands up and gripped his headrest with all his might. “Fuck why did it happen so fast? I thought - aaaahhhhgg noooo - I thought it was supposed to take days the first time! OW SHIT!” The only two thoughts in Stan’s head were ‘don’t push’ and ‘holy fuck let me push’.

“But, b-but…”

“I’ve had my exposed pussy on this seat the whole time, except for when I had sex toys in or on it! Pull ovaaahahaahhhh.” Elijah did as he was told. “Hurry up and get this off me!!” Stan shook as he lifted himself so he could be freed, and the second the two saw the head stretching Stan’s lips he bore down. Almost immediately the head was out.

“Oh my god you’re doing it! Keep pushing.” Elijah unbuckled and kneeled on his seat to ensure that he had a good angle.

“Fuck! Oh my god it hurts so bad but I’m so glad I’m pushing!” Elijah kissed the top of Stan’s head as he bore down. Even though he whole head was free it was still big enough that the skin of Stan’s delicate cunt was white. It bobbed back and forth, the shoulders inching out ever so slowly but never being allowed their full width.

“Take a break love, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Let your hole adjust.” Stan stopped but sobbed loudly.

“I can’t do it! I just… can’t! Why won’t it get out!” Stan writhed in his seat, holding the head and daring himself to pull it out. Elijah put a hand on top of his.

“It’s ok. There is no one in this world who I trust to have a baby in a car more than you. You’re strong, and handsome, and smart, and…” Stan stopped listening and started pushing, he was desperate, “and I know you didn’t want to be pregnant, and I know that you were more sick about growing a person than you were morning sick, and I know that no one has ever tried harder to have a baby than you have, and I know I’ve never been prouder of anyone.” By the time Elijah was done with his speech Stan sat up and lifted the baby up from his seat, both of them crying loudly.

“Thank you… thank you Eli… fuck my pussy hurts so bad.” Stan laughed half heartedly and wiped his face off. He could still feel his contractions ebbing and flowing gently, but he ignored them, certain that they would fade. “I should probably try to push out the afterbirth, right?” Stan was still huffing quietly, but he bore down calmly without disturbing his own stillness.

“Gently my love.” Elijah watched as he did; the seat was fully soaked in birth fluids, and the severed umbilical cord lay limp between Stan’s legs.

“Ugh. Fuck this is heavy.” Stan tried once more and sucked in through his teeth. A strong pain gripped him again. “No. No no no no no no, nooooooowwwwww. T-take him…”

“Why? What’s wrong? It’s not… oh babe.” Stan sobbed once more as he realized what was happening. He pushed and felt movement deep inside of him.

“Hopefully this one will be as fast… I feel so stupid. How did they miss this?” He held onto his armrests as his body forced him to push more. He could feel it sliding into his birth canal.

“I guess it happens sometimes… well now we know why you got so big.” Stan yelped as the contractions peaked right as he had given himself some respite from forcing his second child out.

“I can’t do it again! Aahhhh, nooo get outttt.” Sweat poured down his skin as he pushed and pushed, his husband watching lovingly as he did his best to encourage him.

“You can do it. This is just… two for the price of one!”

“AHHHH FUCK! No! This cost is exponentially worse! I’m so tired.” Stan looked over at Elijah, the only thing giving him strength in that moment.

“It’s ok you’re doing so good. I think I’m starting to see something.” Stan’s pussy has started to bulge, but he was exhausted. His pushes had shortened to only a few mere seconds, and he could barely even feel his body screaming to bear down.

“Fuck I need it out. I think… you might AHHHHHH NOO!” Tears rolled down his cheeks and he pushed down once more, holding his belly and squeezing tight. Elijah looked at him curiously, waiting for his response. “Fuck you might need to help this time.” Stan feel back in his seat defeated. He couldn’t see past his belly still, but he could feel the openness of his cunt.

Elijah watched as Stan pushed frantically in short bursts. It wasn’t until the head sat comfortably in his ruined cunt that he answered. “You want me… to pull?”

Stan nodded as he hit the door flailing during a push. “Y-yes. I can’t do it. It hurts so fucking bad.” Elijah didn’t. He really didn’t, but he was going to. For Stan.

Stan continued to push, grunting, yelling, shaking, and sobbing until the head popped out. “FUCK ELIJAH.” Within seconds Elijah had managed to push his fingers past the stretched and ruined skinned of his husbands hole to hold his fingers under the shoulders. “FUCK FUCK NO STOP STOP STOP!” Elijah didn’t listen and managed to pull out their second child in the midst of Stan’s screams.

Stan couldn’t move. All he could do was stare into the barely moving traffic as he nursed the two children he’d just delivered in his car

[distended-domes]

HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO GOOD

[pushingparty-deactivated2023032]

She’s already birthing the head of the first triplet and she can’t even get her dress pulled up.

[pregobirthlvr]

I throw my head back in pleasure as you bury your cock in me. Your hips pressed hard against my ass as you cum deep inside me.

10 months later I throw my head back in pain as your baby starts to come out me. Your hands holding my legs back as I push your baby out of me.

[digglesquiggle]

Ended as it was getting good...

[pushmomma]

to put a woman into labor for your baby is just perfect ❤️

[stupidlypregnant]

Another contraction starts before the last one fully leaves me.

I feel it building deep inside my body like a terrible inevitability.

My stomach tightens again beneath the man's hands, the round curve growing hard enough that it almost hurts to breathe. I bow forward against the pole with a helpless sound trapped in my throat while the babies push and roll inside the tightening pressure.

They feel frantic now.

One kicks hard beneath my ribs while another grinds downward with crushing weight low in my pelvis. The movement is so forceful I can actually see my belly shifting under the fabric.

The man notices everything.

“Oh, there you go”, he says almost teasingly behind me. “Can't even stand up straight anymore, huh?”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

The shame burns through me so badly I feel dizzy.

Please, leave me alone.

People are absolutely staring now. I can feel it. The overheated carriage has gone too quiet around me, the silence full of polite avoidance while this stranger openly holds my laboring stomach like I'm some spectacle unfolding in public.

Maybe I am.

I weakly try to pull his hand away.

He doesn't let me.

Instead his fingers tighten around the underside of my belly, supporting the heavy weight more firmly while his other hand slides slowly over the front of it.

“Careful,” he murmurs.

My face feels unbearably hot.

The worst part is that I need the support.

My body is failing under the sheer heaviness of the babies now. My lower back throbs violently. My hips feel pried apart from the inside. Every contraction drags the weight lower, and the pressure between my legs has become so urgent it frightens me.

I rub my belly again instinctively, desperate for relief, but his hand covers mine almost immediately.

“No, like this,” he says.

Then he massages harder.

His broad palm presses upward beneath my belly while the other moves slowly across the taut front, kneading at the tightness while I tremble against the pole. The pressure makes the babies shift restlessly beneath his touch.

He chuckles quietly under his breath.

“They're fighting for room in there.”

A whimper escapes me before I can stop it - half embarrassment, half pain.

I feel huge.

Overstimulated. Overwhelmed.

My belly sticks out so far now that I can barely see my own feet, a massive swollen weight stretched tight with moving life. The sweater can't conceal anything anymore. Every motion inside me shows. Every contraction turns my stomach into a hard aching globe beneath the fabric.

And his hands keep drawing attention to it.

“Look at you”, he says, almost admiringly, as another movement rolls across my abdomen beneath his palm. “You're so close.”

Please, stop talking.

Please, stop.

But another contraction crashes through me so hard my knees nearly give out.

“Oh God -”

The sound slips out loud enough that several people look over openly this time.

My entire stomach seizes tight beneath the sweater. The babies shove downward during the contraction with terrifying force, and suddenly the pressure low in my body becomes almost unbearable.

I gasp and spread my feet wider automatically.

The man feels it immediately.

“There it is”, he murmurs near my ear, voice lower now. “They really want out, hm?”

Tears sting my eyes from humiliation.

I'm trapped standing here panting against the pole while this stranger holds my throbbing belly in both hands, openly feeling the contractions, openly feeling the babies moving inside me while everyone around us pretends not to notice.

Another sharp movement presses visibly outward near the center of my stomach.

His hand follows it.

“They’re right there.”

I can barely think anymore through the pressure.

My whole body feels overtaken by it - the relentless fullness, the weight dragging downward, the constant movement inside me. It feels impossible that my skin can stretch any farther. Impossible that my body can still contain all this life straining to be born.

The train jolts again.

I let out a broken gasp as pain tightens through my lower abdomen.

And the man just pulls me back more firmly against him, one hand spread possessively across the front of my belly while the other supports its crushing weight underneath.

“Easy”, he says softly. “You're going to make a scene.”

[pregnantmale]

Quick 20min labor doodle. New year’s baby??

[pushingboi]

Here comes the head! I can see it! That's it, just spread your legs a little wider to make room and give me a big push! Oh honey I know it hurts, you're almost done! Push for me, push push push! That's it, you're crowning, just keep going, let it stretchhhh.. oh, honey, she has so much hair!

It slipped back in, that's okay.. You're doing such a good job of giving birth, she'll be born in no time!

Alright, hands on your belly, this next contraction is a big one.. ready? And 3, 2, 1, PUSH! Hard, baby, hard! Ohhh, that's it! Let's get that baby out of your belly!

That's it that's it, your birth canal is opening up! Here she comes! Keep pushing, keep pushing, sweet thing! Oh my god.. oh my god, it just keeps stretching wider!

Keep pushing baby keep pushing.. I promise it's almost here! Legs a little wider, let's make a little more room.. oh my god, the baby is huge..

You're starting to stretch around the widest part, just keep pushing into my palm; I've got her..

Ohhhhh, that's it! Another big push just like that! Ready? PUSH! Push your baby out! It's time to deliver!

She's crowning! That's it, scream if you need to! Your birth canal is stretched around the whole baby as she squeezes out of your womb! One more push and - There's the head! Oh my god you did it! The baby's head is out!

That's it, take a deep breath.. oh wow, you came really hard when you birthed that, didn't you? I bet that felt amazing..!

Okay honey, you're gonna have to keep pushing though because.. I think the shoulders are stuck.

[stupidlypregnant]

The train lurches and I nearly lose my balance.

I catch myself against the pole with a sharp breath, both hands gripping the cold metal while my belly drags heavily forward beneath the thick pullover I'm wearing. The movement makes my babies shift all at once inside me. Dense rolling pressure under impossibly stretched skin, bodies pressing against bodies, nowhere left for them to go.

I grab the pole hard enough that my wrist aches.

My pullover has ridden up almost to the curve of my navel again.

I yank it down instantly, heart pounding, but the fabric only clings tighter across the enormous shape underneath. There's no disguising it anymore. The sweater outlines everything - the impossible roundness, the stretched-tight mass, even the uneven movements shifting beneath my skin.

I can feel people noticing.

I keep my head down.

Please don't look at me.

Another painful roll moves through my belly. One baby drags heavily across my side while another pushes low enough to make my breath catch. The pressure inside me is unbearable now, packed so tightly that every movement feels trapped beneath my skin.

My whole stomach visibly ripples.

I clamp a hand under my belly, rubbing the sensitive skin under my sweater like I can calm them, calm myself, calm the awful pressure dragging lower and lower inside me.

God, I'm so full.

Too full. Too swollen. Too obvious.

The train windows throw my reflection back at me in dark smears between station lights: flushed face, hunched shoulders, both hands cradling a belly so huge it dominates the rest of my body completely. I look indecent. Like something private exposed under fluorescent lights.

A contraction starts low in my back.

Fuck.

The tightness spreads through my abdomen with brutal force, pulling my stomach hard and high until it becomes almost perfectly round beneath the sweater. I gasp softly and lean into the pole before I can stop myself.

Please not now.

The babies react immediately.

They're squirming inside of me during the contraction, heavy movement trapped inside the rigid tightness of my body. One presses outward so sharply near my ribs that I actually see the bulge through the wool.

Someone nearby notices. I hear the sharp inhale.

Humiliation crashes through me so hard my eyes sting.

I rub my belly faster now, desperate circles beneath the strained underside, trying to ease the crushing downward pressure between my small hips. My legs are trembling. I can feel how low they are now - all that weight pressing into my pelvis with terrifying insistence.

I just need to make it home. I just need to hold them in.

Then suddenly there's a body behind me. A man.

Too close.

Before I can move, a big hand slides around my side and cups the underside of my pulsing belly.

I freeze in horror.

His palm spreads beneath the huge weight almost possessively, fingers pressing deep into the oversensitive underside where I've been rubbing myself raw for weeks trying to relieve the strain.

“Oh wow,” he says quietly behind me. “You're ready to pop, hm? ”

Heat floods my entire face.

I try to pull away instinctively, but another contraction hits at the exact same moment and my body folds helplessly instead, a broken sound escaping my throat.

His hand tightens.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “You're so ripe.”

My belly clenches rock hard beneath both our hands.

The babies shove violently during the contraction, trapped movement rolling visibly across the front of my stomach. My pullover lifts higher again as I arch involuntarily, exposing the full strained curve of my belly to everyone nearby.

I hear someone whisper.

I want to cry.

But the man behind me doesn't move away.

His other hand settles over the front of my aching stomach, broad palm spread over the tightest part like he's testing the firmness of it. Then he starts rubbing slowly downward over the curve while I stand there shaking against the pole, whimpering quietly.

“Easy,” he says near my ear. “Everyone's noticing. ”

I can barely breathe from shame.

His hands are everywhere now - under the belly, across the front, massaging the tight stretched skin while strangers pretend not to stare. My body betrays me completely by responding to the relief. The upward support eases the dragging agony in my back enough that my knees nearly buckle.

“Oh my God,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

He chuckles softly behind me.

“They're really lively.”

And they are.

The babies roll heavily beneath his hands as though reacting to the pressure. One pushes outward in a slow hard sweep across the front of my stomach, visibly distorting the sweater. Another drives down low enough to make me gasp and widen my legs for balance.

I feel overwhelmed. Animalistic. Insane.

The man keeps rubbing my belly like it belongs to him now.

“So round,” he murmurs. “Must be ready to burst.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Because that's exactly how I feel.

My stomach feels stretched beyond endurance, skin tight and aching over too much life packed inside me. Every contraction squeezes the babies downward harder, and every movement inside me feels lower now, heavier, unbearably urgent.

I'm breathing too fast.

The train rocks again and I clutch the pole desperately while his hands continue roaming over the massive curve of my belly in full view of everyone.

I can't hide it anymore.