May 10, 2025
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A woman finds a bowl of mini chocolate eggs at a party, not realising that every egg she eats adds another egg to her womb
You've never seen someone eat so much chocolate. A normal person would've gotten sick of them by now.
But she just keeps eating and eating. Stuffing herself with the tiny sweets.
She's eaten so much that her gut is bulging from her consumption. Though she really shouldn't be this bloated from just these tiny chocolate eggs... and her engorged gut sits quite a bit lower than a 'full belly' should.
She's picked up a whole bowl of the chocolate eggs. Nobody's trying to stop her. Nobody at this outdoor Easter party has made any comments about how those eggs were meant for everyone. She's just sitting there. Her expanding gut slowly spreading her legs.
She looks every bit like a woman deep into pregnancy. Her distended belly having fully escaped her shirt, it pokes out over her tight athletic shorts.
Shorts far tighter than they were a few moments ago. Strained containing her visibly wider hips. Fabric digs into her massive camel toe, visibly moistened by her wetness.
Another party-goer brings her a bowl as her gravid form threatens to pin her down to the floor below her. She accepts the offering, devouring the chocolates as if posessed by Famine itself.
People are placing pillows on the ground beneath her, as her over-productive, egg-laden womb forces her to her knees.
More guests gather around her. Some caressing her belly, softly cooing in awe and worship. Others now gently press more chocolate eggs past her lips. Two guests have attached themselves to her massive teat-like nipples. Her breasts, freed from her restrictive clothes by her dutiful attendants.
Even you are feeding her, now. Unable to stand in front of her, you stand behind her, marveling at the gravid sphere filling the grassy field meter by meter as her fertility only seems to multiply rapidly with the consumption of more easter themed confections.
She's fully lifted off the ground by about a foot and a half. Her ass, while nowhere near the size of her ova-bloated gut, is at least as large as you. Her rear, and the rest of her body, rests, suspended off the ground. her athletic shorts, now so torn into shreds they barely function as a scandelous g-string, have burried themselves deep in her massive gaping cunt.
You stare at it, in awe, as you pass basket after basket up to an attendant seated on top of her wobbling rear.
Her pussy, spewing a constant deluge of feminine lubricant, pulses and yawns. It gapes wide, all on its own, demanding to be filled. Her need to be fertilized is felt by you and everyone in the group, but none of you dare make a move.
She isn't ready yet. She isn't fertile enough.
Even still, she must be worshipped. With both hands, you massage the internal walls of her gaping cunt, allowing her divine juices to wash over you. You gently pull and stretch her opening wider, still, preparing her. Making her more form more 'right'... more appropriate for breeding.
Chocolate is fed to her in a slurry now. You don't know where the tube came from, but she's being pumped full of liquified chocolate eggs.
You don't care, so long as she keeps consuming the endless slurry.
Your face is firmly pressed against her head dwarfing clitoris. Kissing it, licking it, worshiping it. Your hands paw at it, gently, as they massage it in any way they can. Meanwhile a few dozen worshipers act as a team to massage her vaginal entrance while a half a dozen more work to stretch her wider still.
She'll birth an entire generation. An entire civilization. She'll be mother to all of existance.
But until she's fertile enough, she must be fed and worshipped. Even as her juices wash away the remains of the earth and the moon...even as her gravid form dwarfs the Milky Way..... she's still grows ever more fertile.
meirl
Abduction: It came for You Final Part (+Bonus) (+18)
Pairing: Tentacle monster/alien x AFAB reader
Warnings: Child birth, affection and praise, egg laying, pain, after care, breastfeeding (w/ machine), teasing, slight masochism, tentacle and tongue sex.
A few days later~ The tub has a glowing, water-like substance, warm to the touch. You’ve had multiple uncomfortable tight pains from false contractions. Cervix cramping gets more frequent, and more intense, shooting pains almost every minute. Something stirs inside you, it’s almost time.
An excruciating pain trembles your body. Arzon tries to coach your pushes, but you can’t hear him because you’re screaming your head off. The pain is unbearable, every child sending shock waves and jolts throughout your body. You scream, you cry, you’re in so much agony. Arzon knew it was time, although reluctant, he activated the ring.
A sudden sense of, relief, consumes you, this feels nice. The ring was a chemical cocktail, acting as a pleasurable pain relief. Arzon checks on you, you aren’t in pain anymore but you are high on aphrodisiacs. You start pushing again, but know you’re crowning; your first egg. Your pussy is burning and stretching as your now horny body makes its lube that pops out the egg. You moan from the release, your body weightless from passion and water. You hold Arzon’s tentacle, his face swept with relief.
He looks, so hot! You want to deep throat his tongue again, his sharp teeth to chomp at your collarbone, his tentacles stuffed inside you, his eyes to seduce you. You crown your second egg, changing your mind about not being ready. The egg pushes against your walls, it feels gelatinous, an elongated shape the size of an ostrich egg. You pop out the second egg, face flushed.
Bzzz~ “.Good.” “.Breathe.” “.In.” … “.Out.”
“Breathe” was a new word, but you do as your told. You wanna be good, you’re a good girl, a good incubator. You pop out a third egg, Arzon had to stop you from pushing it back in. You feel so hot, so sensitive, stomach still stirring with impatient spawn.
The fourth egg was bigger than the others. You keep trying to push but it won’t move. Trying to tell him only leaves moans and primal groans, it’s huge, painful but it turns you on. He’s been keeping track though, pushes your thighs up to your chest, scalpel ready for emergency. The new position was not only helpful but, Arzon pinning your legs up… the egg stretching you, trying to force its way out… you should be in pain, but the tension feels so good.
Arzon pushes above your pubic bone, enough force for the egg to pop out. This release finally breaks you, you come, with the tidal wave of pleasure followed several clusters of eggs gushing out of you. You just wanna push them back in to enjoy popping them out again. There are still so many eggs to go, and you already lost track; but you’re ready for more… you just want more.
Several hours later~ You laid all your eggs, all you can muster now are slow pants. You’re having a hard time staying awake, all your energy needed for the babies. Still sore, still large, still contracting and bleeding. Your belly feels sort of like jello.
You don’t know where Arzon is, or the eggs. You feel around with your feet for clues, but all you feel is the filter current and an open tube. It’s disturbingly quiet, besides the monitor beeps and occasional metal thuds.
“A… Arzon?” Your voice strained from screams and moans. No answer.
The silence was interrupted by the swoosh of sliding doors. You’re still dazed, confused, and without your glasses; so you don’t know what’s happening. A large blurry blob scurries to you rapidly. You punch it with sudden adrenaline, force still weak, it responded with a pained chirp.
“Arzon! Sorry!”
He returns your glasses, rubbing a tentacle on his forehead eye. He also returned with paddings, balms, ice packs, and painkillers.
“How did you get all this?” You pant with a confused smile.
“.Always. .Obtained. .More. .For. .Again.” A casual answer as he tends to your wounds.
💭” More for again? Oh~ oh there’s gonna be more eggs. Does he plan to keep me pregnant forever? Am I really a fuck toy?! I-”
Your focus shifts to the ring, the tightness, the loving care… the night he seduced you. A tentacle reaches under your chin, you gaze at his dumb smirk; body flashed cyan.
“.Queen.” He pressed your forehead to his. “.Rest.” You kiss him before slumping to slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bonus~
10 weeks later:
You don’t know what he did, but your body looks somewhat normal. Frankly, most everything about you feels normal (maybe better). You kept some pounds, the ring, and gained a tiara from your birthday. A calm, happy contrast from your old life and “baby blues” period.
“-Ah!” A loud chirp echoed the ship walls. One of the larvae is already teething, chomping down on her father’s tentacle.
“Alsta! Daddy’s not a chew toy!” You grab the back of her neck like a cat. Her chirps of protest is replaced with cute scratchy cries as she stretches her tentacles to you.
Bzzz~ “.Hungry?.” Arzon asked, rubbing the bite mark.
“-eh.”
You both sigh, carrying Alsta to the other 149 babies; them still needing to stay in the chamber. The large tank of glowing water with gastric tubes and other equipment, small larvae float to you with enthusiasm. Alsta however, needed to be in a second, smaller chamber. No eating your siblings.
Arzon wraps his tentacles around your chest, kissing your neck.
“Perv.” You scoff. He bites your collarbone, whimper escaping your lips.
“Do-Don’t look at me like that.” You protest flustered. His dumb smirk lingers as he slides off.
Arzon grabs the milk extractor, basically a cow milker modified for a human. The large cylinder cups your breasts and the smaller tubes inside seals your perked nipples.
“.Tell. .When. .Hurt.” asking this promise as he finishes attaching.
“I always would, it just never happens.” That was a lie; it has left bruises at times, you just like how it feels.
He turns it on.
The machine began to pulsate and suck your breasts. It tugs at your nipples, the flowing milk warms and tingles your body. Arzon wraps his tentacles around your plump body, nibbling your ear. You turn on the ring while he’s distracted. The sudden rush of aphrodisiacs makes you moan, loud. He shuts you up and takes you out of view of the kids, upset that you “use. too. much.”
“Are you gonna punish me?” The machine tubes had enough leeway to change positions. You’re the one towering over him now, “Or can you not control yourself?”
The machine’s gentle pumping makes you hornier, moaning like a porn star. You rub you wet pussy on his chest, his heart racing as his eyes spiral; he didn’t stand a chance this time.
He moves your pussy to his face, shoving his full tongue inside you. Thick and slimy, he circles and wiggles inside; wrapping your legs and arms apart. He covers your mouth when you got too loud. The machine tubes flood with milk, breasts heavy from sheer volume, hardly moving as your body lifts and drops. Arzon slithers his tongue out, shifting position to replace it with six tentacles. He’s not going easy with you, pounding each individually in a rhythm.
He bit a tentacle when he was moaning too loud, purple blood pouring from his sharp teeth. Tentacles slap against your thighs, tight against your walls. You’ve never seen him like this. Feeling lightheaded, pre-cum sloshes inside you, you cling to Arzon as you both break. Salty sperm pumping inside as milk pumps out. Your stomach stretches once more, filling and covering you with delicious seed.
You regain your senses, Arzon pulling out of you makes you leak a bit. The machine stops suddenly, your husband balled over to the side of its power source.
“Honey?” … Silence.
“.Sorry. .So. … .SO. .Sorry.”
You unhook the machine, crouching beside him as you rest on his side. He cradled his injured tentacle.
“Oh! Bandages! You need bandages!” You stumble up to get some, but you both meet in the bathroom. He cleans you up, you wrap him up.
“Are you into masochism? I can maybe find some toys online.” He snaps at you, but looks away.
“.Don’t. .Know. .Yet.”
…”How DID you find me?”
“.Drone. .Crashed. .Looked. .Camera. .Saw. .You. … .Stalked.”
“Okay, but why ME?”
“.Confident. .Mysterious. .Kind. .Casual. .Beautiful.”
You haven’t heard words like that in a long time. You take Arzon’s tentacle and return to the babies.
“Whatever happens… You dragged me into this.”
You got a chuckle from him.
“.And. .You. .Take. .Care. .Of. .Yourself.”
You rub your tummy. “Why? You do that for me ~❤️.”
He cuddles you from behind as the babies grasp your fingers, nuzzling against your hand. You two are going to need a bigger tank.
I want to be breastfed like a little baby, feel me up with so much milk that my tummy fills up with you. And can you please push down on my tummy so I can feel how full I am
Baby brother having a hard day at school and coming come to nurse on his big brother for comfort
Helping a Friend Unwind his Mind
A friend and housemate is, once again, in need of his mothers attention after a long and snowy day. His mother being his friend, i.e. you. The only thing to do is convert his mind into milk and care for your sweet little boy for the day. Try not to go mad with maternal feelings… again.
Contains: Mom-kink play, mind draining, friends with benefits, reader POV, female reader, humanXfurry, lactation, breast feeding, weight gain, breast expansion, breeding, fXm.
Word count: ~2300
—---
You take a sip from your coco and flip to the next page. The book was middling, in a few months you’d struggle to recall most details outside of the plot synopsis. Shame, the base sci-fi desperate drug smuggling family idea sounded like it had legs. Maybe if it had a writer that didn’t repeat the same three descriptors ad nauseam you wouldn’t be grimacing. Plus his descriptions of a “large” chest on the female lead were embarrassing. You dwarfed her D cups, she isn’t special.
The front door opened, a harsh and icy wind blowing through it and into the living room. You bristle at it from inside your large sweater. “Fucking hell, this cold will not stop.”
“Tell me about it, cuz I can tell you!” Your housemate said as he slammed the door behind him. He entered the living room covered in a layer of snow, face obscured by two scarves and body padded with four layers to keep the cold from killing him. Still, he shivered. The downside of opting to have cold blood when you become a lizard person. He discarded the layers in a frenzy, throwing it every which way. You finish off your drink and watch in amusement.
“Did you run out of heating packs?”
“No! I have six of them! It’s just so fucking cold and snowing like mad! Half a meter! Half a meter of snow just today! Fucking stupid ass snow- I should have- I gotta move to a hotter place!”
“You say that every winter, but why don’t you?”
“I. Like. My. Job. We have a game coming up that’ll change the scene.” You chuckled at that without meaning to. He said that the last four times. Hasn’t happened yet. “What’s funny?!”
“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You rise from the sofa. “Can I get you some coco? I have dark chocolate, your favorite.”
His tail swishes. “Fine. Fucking…” He followed you into the kitchen, standing by in just a graphic tee and boxers. “I love the job, I do.”
“But?”
“BUT! I cannot STAND Richard, oh that smug prick is going to ruin this shit. I thought his fishing minigame shit was a joke, he suggested one for the last three games, but no! He had a whole mess of slides- which sucked ass -about how it could tie into a crafting system and a whole fucking.” He was talking near a scream and shouting with his hands as you calmly prepared an extra large cup of coco. “The game is a run and gun, you’re supposed to go fast, you’re supposed to speedrun. A fucking fishing minigame to do some dumb crafting to make fucking potions to make the game easier- we have easy mode! We have it in the settings! Is he dumb?”
You pour the drink and retrieve the classic toppings, marshmallows, whipped cream. “You want some shaved chocolate?”
“No, caramel.” He calmed for a moment.
“You got it, dear.” You gave it extra of everything and slid the drink along the counter. It looked picture worthy. Pat grabbed it and downed half in moments, gasping as he let a small burp out. “Thirsty?” You said as a leading question.
“C-Cold. It’s fucking hell out there, ninth circle.” He took a more conservative sip, returning to his hackles. “Shit day. Programs crashed, bugs won’t die, someone fiddled with the server following a ‘Tube video to try to make the system faster. Fucked everything for half an hour, of course.”
“Awful. Just awful. Do you need cuddles?”
“Yes!” He hissed. Rude. You let it slide as you lead him back to the sofa. You sit next to each other and wrap an arm around him, your other hand petting his thigh. His scales always felt so nice. He quietly drank and stared out the window at the snow raging outside. “It looks so nice when it’s not freezing me.”
“Sorry about the day. I should’ve had you bring more heating packs.”
“No, you’re fine. You’re… wonderful.” His voice was so weak. Your chest began to ache.
“How sweet.” You planted a kiss on his head. He nestled into you, staring off as he finished off the last of the coco over the course of a few minutes. You felt his body warm from your embrace. He shifts, lying down and placing his head on your lap, right below your chest. A spark went off in your head, but you had restraint. He’d open the door if he wanted too. You rest a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall as his breathing calmed, and the other petting his head to sooth him. “Precious.”
“Mom?” There it was. The signal. You had been hoping, always hoping, always waiting for him to allow you to care for him. With that the spark in you ran free, he opened the door for it, the nurturing urge unchained.
“Yes, my baby?” Your voice was deeper, sultry now.
“Can, I… go blank. Just, drink and…”
You smiled the way only a mother seeing their kid being adorable can. “Of course, honey. Any time.” You pulled your sweater up, breasts flopping free against your chest and partially covering him. So nice to air the girls out. They were already beading milk. His eyes looked so greedy as he put a puffy nipple against his mouth and began to drink. You let a long moan out, growing wet in your pants. The lightning-like bliss shooting from your sensitive teats and into the churning furnace of your lust addled mind.
You felt it, one of your favorite feelings, the sensation of his thoughts and troubles leaking from his mind into your breasts. Every worry swells them that bit bigger, turning into milk for your special boy. He was so wonderful, his sharp teeth nibbling gently as his soft scaled lips suckle on you. You loved this, needed this, needed to provide for your friend who doubled as your son. Who you claimed as your son.
His eyes dulled, drinking became faster, more fervent, trying to quell endless thirst. Mind drowning in milk as your chest swelled more and more, filling your lap and covering his torso. Your free breast, which was now more like an udder, spraying milk like a small fountain onto the floor. You glance over and shudder involuntarily. He had a raging hard on. He always had one while in your care. You loved him so much. Platonically, somehow. A friend-son with benefits was better than a relationship.
Your head is pounding. Your mouth is dry.
He’s perfect. A perfect boy. An obedient boy that empties his brain and lets you care for him.
“Honey?” He gave a muffled acknowledgement, not slowing for a second. “Can mommy play with your dick?” He nodded, eyes lighting up with lust as he stared into your eyes. Precious. He was precious. “He needs to be pampered and have no worries” was the only wholesome thought you could manage. The rest were waxing ever more lustful.
You pull his boxers down, his dick springing free, already slick with precum. You make quiet moans as you stroke it, wedging a hand under your chest and down your pants as you finger yourself while pleasuring him. He whimpered and pressed into your teat, gulping as much as he could as he forgets every worry he ever had, most of his mind melting along with it. Down through his mouth and into you, swelling out the rest of your body. You were growing more curvaceous, more motherly, your mom jeans straining against your thickening body.
He whimpers, hips bucking and body clenching as he cums. He makes the most beautiful noises when he cums. Small little squeaks and moans. Your mind is on fire. The little spurts he makes are so wonderful yet so… small.
More. More. More. You might be more far gone than he is. Pumping him like mad as he sprays thick ropes, arching up and onto your chest. His hand grips your tit and squeezes hard, eyes rolling back as the only thought left in his head was being good for you. You cum as you shove four fingers inside yourself, moaning loudly and having it turn into satisfied laughter.
More. Not enough. He was too precious. “Dear, you're so good for mother.” He moaned in delight, cramming even more milk into his stomach. His stomach was beginning to swell taut against your chest. You lean down and plant half a dozen kisses on his head. “Can you be very good for me? Can you grow your cock bigger for your mother?” He nodded, breathing quickening. You felt his heart pounding through his chest and against the underside of your udders. Your breathing became deeper, lust compounding inside the both of you.
He grew, and grew, a thick vein pressing against your thumb as he grew for you in your grasp, balls filling the space between his legs as his dick grew to the length of your forearm, long and relatively thin. You pumped it like mad. “Cum, cum for me. Cum buckets for me! Drink me!” He almost choked as your tit began spraying down his throat, working overtime to treat him well. He makes moans of all types with a full mouth as thick rope after rope spray across your chest, some getting on your face. “Yes! Yes! Good boy!” You greedily lick up as much as you can, his cum sticky and sweet. Addicting.
Inside. Need him inside. He deserved it for being so perfect and adorable. So small. “Honey, dear, I need you. Mother needs you inside her. Now.” He stops drinking for a moment. Slowly, he releases your breast from his mouth, looking up at you with those beautiful emerald eyes of his.
“Okay. Good… for you.” He sounded so soft. Frail. Like a fabergé egg, but far more precious. He wiggles out from under you as you half tear your jeans apart to get them off as fast as you could. You kept the sweater, lifted up to your neck. It felt motherly. He gets in front of you, at arms length just to get his dicks head lined up with your dripping womanhood. He has to push your stomach and fat pad out of the way to get a clear angle.
“In, get- IN!” Your head whips back as he hilts you, milk spraying out like it came from a hose as you gain another three cup sizes. His body wedged between your engorged breasts that begged for the impossible task of being drained. He cums in one thrust as he whimpers for you.
“Good. I’m good.”
“You're so good. My good boy. MORE!” He leans back, squeezing your teats together so the nipples are close, taking both of them into his mouth. “Bite! Bite hard! Drain me!” He obeys, teeth sinking in, but not piercing. You scream out. “Bigger. Grow bigger, all of you BIGGER FOR ME!” His body plumps, fat piling onto his athletic frame. His dick swells bigger inside you, pounding the far side of your womb as it thickens, stretching you out. “BREED ME. BREED YOUR MOTHER!” His cock erupts, the two of you moaning loud as buckets of cum flood you, swelling your womb bigger, and bigger, not a drop allowed to escape as your body drinks him as greedily as he drinks you.
By the end you're distended, a tight red orb resting beneath your udders as cum finally begins to leak in bursts from your pussy. Your love, your boy, your good boy nestles into your chest, cooing without a care in the world. “I love you, mommy.” He says without a thought in his calmed and emptied mind.
You can’t help but shower praise to him, planting kiss after kiss onto every part of him, holding his head against your breast as you pet him. You glance at the boulder of a womb now on you. Good thing you’re always on the pill. You look back at him, a drunk smile full of sharp teeth with glazed over eyes that stared into yours. Not a thought behind those beautiful eyes.
Just friends with benefits. A statement that was somehow not a lie. You loved your son, and he loved you, and outside of this, you were simply friends and housemates. But for now, you were his mom. “Don’t forget, you’ll have to get your thoughts back in time for bed.” He whined. “But not now. You can keep drinking from mommy.” He pawed at your chest and found his way back to your teat, suckling away as he slowly continued to fatten. A well fed precious thing, your growing boy. It’ll be fun to hear him try to explain why he’s suddenly over a hundred and fifty kilos again to his boss.
You retrieve the book you left off to the side, brushing off a small bit of milk from the cover.
“Her huge chest was pale in the moonlight. Exposed for him. It was half the size of his head, the biggest he’d ever seen.”
You rolled your eyes, a hand absent mindedly stroking his head.