My belly shouldn't be empty
My belly should be enormous, swollen, dense, ballooning, back-breakingly heavy & on the verge of bursting with multiple babies & gallons of amniotic fluid

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My belly shouldn't be empty
My belly should be enormous, swollen, dense, ballooning, back-breakingly heavy & on the verge of bursting with multiple babies & gallons of amniotic fluid
Imagine going to full term with those octuplets, wether it’s just luck of the draw or the parents you’re surrogate for want you to make sure they’re done. Bedridden and swollen to absolute limits as your belly aches and tightens trying to contain eight full size babies in your overstuffed womb.
God knows what could happen if you go overdue…
feeling like i'm about to pop, completely overtaken by these monstrously large babies writhing inside of me
i beg the babies' parents to let me induce labor, but they insist on me going as long as possible. i've been bed ridden for weeks, focused solely on eating and resting and growing these babies.
they've grown substantially since i entered my third trimester, taking up so much room i'm convinced my belly can't grow anymore.
but somehow it keeps going.
i can't reach around myself anymore, dependent on my doctors and nurses to rub lotion on me and measure my vitals every few hours. whenever others get close to me, it's like the babies can sense it, as they kick up a storm trying to get others attention.
i can't stop the grotesque moans that escape me. sitting low in my womb, the babies leave me in a mix of pain and ecstasy on the daily.
the feat of the last 40 weeks rests atop my lap, overflowing over my legs and barely covered by clothes.
it's a burden, but it sure is a pleasureful one.
Here is the preview for my contribution fo the Octopath Traveler fan zine hosted by @8isforoctopath!
Thank you for letting me participate in this project!
How The Octomom Became The Most Hated Woman in America
In the late 2000s a massive amount of public outrage would be aimed at Nadya Suleman. She had recently given birth to a set of octuplets. Usually this would be praise worthy moment for any other person. However for Suleman, it became a firestorm of controversy with rude remarks, insults, and shame. We take a look back at the wild story of the infamous Octomom Nayda Suleman story, and find out what happened.
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Why spotlight the Octomom? Like many people around at this time, the saga of the octomom was quite intriguing. He story wasn't told fully in detail. I thought it would be worthwhile to go more in depth on the entire situation, because it's a very important moment in time. A single mother was painted as a villain, but what was her story, and what was the outcome of it all.
Keypoints
Who is the Nayda Suleman?
What happened to the Octomom?
How many kids did the Octomom have?
Who is the father of the Octomom's kids?
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Daily Multiples Day Thirty-Two
Annie, Durinda, Georgia, Jackie, Marcia, Petal, Rebecca, and Zinnia Huit from The Sisters 8 are today's daily multiples! They are octuplets!
Luna Gets Even Bigger, Part III
Like the end of the first trimester, the end of the second similarly left you belly the size it was when you gave birth the second time. Enormously full and fat. Of course, the fact that you haven't been able to move for five months really did a number on both your poor, overburdened belly and the rest of your body. Your body is an avalanche of fat, driven by both your enormous fetuses' insistence on eating the most fattening foods nonstop and your singular desire to get as inhumanly large as possible, pinned down under this mound of your husband's creation. He knows he's responsible for this. He has pangs of guilt over the fact that he got you this pregnant at this point, but those are quickly brushed aside when he sees you lying there, begging for him to stuff you, and not just with food. Even as enormous as you are, he can't keep away from your insanely pregnant body. Both he and you are surprised at how he can have his way with you at your size, but he does, and he does it well. You're worried that you'll crush him, but he's just fine, still eager to please you and serve you. Your mind just melts even further whenever he's around, knowing that in spite of your pleading, he's the one who's ultimately responsible for putting you in this state. You just can't contain yourself!
Seven months in, your belly is twice the size of your body, even at its already enormous size. Eight months in, it's three times. You're wondering if your room can contain you. Your belly is getting dangerously close to brushing the ceiling. Though you seem to be in a permanently excited state with all of this belly growing beyond even your wildest dreams, you are somehow even more excited. You're nothing but a baby factory, a womb with limbs attached, a true breeding sow, dedicated to nothing but eating and pumping out babies. There are simply no other thoughts in your head. You bloated, fat, pregnant cow! Grazing all day long and making yourself unable to move at only a month in! Your greed for both big babies and food making you push the confines of your room!
Exactly nine months after you conceive, that scenario comes true. You can feel your belly button brush the ceiling. Your mind runs wild, struggling to comprehend how massive the twenty enormous babies that your husband put in your belly that made you gorge yourself nonstop to get to this point. For most, the possibility of even becoming this pregnant is horrifying, but for you, there is nothing you'd rather do. Pinned underneath this mountain of your husband's creation. No way out except giving birth. And just like the last two times, your due date came and went without even a contraction. Your babies are stuck inside of you for the long haul.
Remember when you thought you'd go over half a ton this pregnancy? That seems to be low-balling it. You are simply enormous. Your belly is now pushing hard into your bedroom ceiling, still growing larger and larger as you glut yourself at the gnawing insistence of your brood. You worry that it will break through the ceiling if you're pregnant for much longer, not that you will be. You're two weeks past your due date, and you know what that means. It's time for your doctor to induce you. You want nothing more but to be pregnant forever, a bloated, fattened, dumb cow doing nothing but stuffing her face, growing babies inside of her, and being pleasured by her man. But this is reality, and reality means that you must give birth. This record-breaking pregnancy has come to its end. You have now brought an insane number of forty children into the world over the course of your marriage.
After that, you're just lying there, unable to get up again. You NEED to get pregnant again. You know you probably shouldn't, but as we've come to learn, we know that isn't going to stop you or your husband. Your eyes glaze over in bliss, thinking just how enormous you're going to get next time.
Fin
God I love this~
The idea of being pinned underneath my colossal pregnant belly, as it groans and gurgles due to its sheer size and the contents within, dozens upon dozens of overweight babies + metric gallons of amniotic fluids sloshing around + a truckload of fattening food crammed into my bowels which is almost constantly getting refilled with more. The floor creaking loudly underneath me as if I’m going to break through the floorboards at any moment. Fat, rotund thighs thicker than tree trunks. Swollen ankles, swollen feet, even my wrists and hands are all puffy. 2000 pounds of pregnant woman.
Me huffing and puffing and sweating in this humid, musky room I’m stuck in. This maternal smell emanating from my crevices and folds. Moaning and groaning, ready to explode. My fat meaty pussy like a giant clam, all bloated and swollen as a lake’s worth of amniotic fluids rests against my bulging cervix, the floodgates barely able to withstand the pressure.
But I’m so happy and so content~😍😍😍
Is octuplets too big for a prompt? Just thinking about the parent sitting there, belly like a globe taking up their whole lap, rubbing the tightly packed kiddos
nooo I love this idea. If you don't mind, I've made this magical.
You're a hero, adventuring across the land. Or you had been. Now you're lost and between quests and winter is setting in. So when you find a house in the woods with a beautiful orchard, you don't consider how dark the house is before you indulge. You pluck perfectly ripe cherries off the tree and stuff yourself, juice bursting across your tongue.
You swallow your eighth cherry pit when the magic catches up to you. Your belly flutters, and you press your hand to your flat, muscular stomach. It's been too long since you've eaten.
You reach for more fruit, and pain lances through you. Your stomach moves. You drop to your knees, both hands pressed to your middle. It's bloating, straining at your belted tunic. You undo your belt and shove up your tunic to massage the painful skin, and your belly grows as it gets the space to do so. Your abs shift and spread, disappearing as the globe of your stomach expands. You still think it's an allergic reaction to the magic fruit, until you feel a kick under your hands.
"Well well well," comes a sultry female voice. You look up to see the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, dressed in black that hugs wide hips and barely contains her ample chest. You could look at her forever, and when she bends down her breast spill towards your face. "Did you eat my seeds?"
"Yes," you whisper. Your stomach is still growing, straining at the waistband of your leggings. She circles your popped out belly button with one manicured finger, then traces up the middle of your stomach. You watch her touch with excitement. Her children sense her presence, kicking and writhing inside of you. You cradle your womb, distended to your knees.
"How many?"
"Eight," you confess, and you understand. You aren't afraid, or angry. For as long as you have her children inside you, she'll keep touching you. Your body has a purpose again.
She lifts your belly with both her hands and moves you inside, where she can care for you properly. Already her children are packed too tightly to move. Already you're too heavy to do anything except what she allows you to do.