#sextuplets

[pregnanttransgirl]

I would be so happy

I wanna be SOOOO pregnant soooo bad! Getting heavily pregnant with high order multiples would unironically fix me. It would fill me with such happiness & pride & gender euphoria...

I wish I could just be a surrogate & spend my life getting artificially inseminated & getting humongously pregnant with up to a dozen babies all the time. I would be so happy.

I would be so happy getting bigger and bigger, heavier and heavier, as my belly swells with child. Getting so absurdly big compared to the rest of me, so disproportionately huge.

I would end up being known by family & friends as the one who's constantly pregnant! I would always be there with a big, swollen belly in some stage of pregnancy! I would be so happy being the center of attention. Everyone around me being so awestruck at my immense size & concerned with my well-being, going out of their way to make me comfortable & look out for me. Getting help with some of the most basic everyday things.

I would be so happy as I feel my belly getting heavier and heavier...feeling the weight & pressure increasing more and more and more. I would be so happy with all the discomfort & the struggles. Getting more and more cumbersome to move around, waddling and staggering more and more awkwardly.

It would give me such a deep, carnal, feminine feeling. Feeling so huge and full and swollen, so heavily baby-laden. It would make me feel so proud. It would make me feel like the proper baby factory that I should be. Just churning out more and more babies.

I would feel so happy groaning & moaning & grunting so loudly through these looong drawn-out labors. Just letting it all out, groaning without a care through get through the immense, earth-shattering pressure in my pelvis and belly. Lumbering around moaning through contractions for hours upon hours if not several days. And then spending days to push all those babies out of me.

I would be so happy to be pregnant, I would truly feel blessed to get that opportunity. I would use it to the fullest extent! It would fill me with so much joy to be able to fulfill that purpose & getting to realise my deepest fantasy.

[ceriematsu]

[thetofu-chan-desu]

My interpretations: How the sextuplets feel about physical affection from one another

Connected to this post!

[thebiggestboyoyoyoiiii]

JACKSOMATSU-SAN/LORD OF THE MATSUS

this is my au so be nice… osomatsu-san x lord of the flies… I thought about this long and hard… 💭💭💭

choromatsu = piggy

karamatsu = ralph

todomatsu = simon

osomatsu = jack

ichimatsu = roger

jyushimatsu = Maurice because I Don’t Know Who Else Okay

Let Me Know what You Think 🤔

[gluttonous-miku]

[BLMATSU DNI]

okay. drops this on you

I did these icons for fun and for practise so it's all free to use without credit, but credit would be appreciated :3

I will be doing more so like. if you want more give me a follow ig

[kittypancake]

High School Totty

A drawing request from a friend! May have the Osomatsu San bug, I am invaded by sextuplets

[itsdrewharrisontoo]

The Vault - Week 19 - The Second Wife

Hey Bunnies! 👋🏻🥰🐰🤍 I've been asked a lot to write another period piece, I hope this one satisfies that craving for some of y'all! 🥰 As usual, it went on longer than I wanted lol but I hope that's still alright with you haha 

Word Count: 8,329 words

Summary: Arranged to marry a wealthy, brooding widower twice her age, a woman unexpectedly bore him a litter in the same room where he first refused to love her.

Author’s Notes/Warnings: MDNI. 18+ only. This work contains explicit sexual content, erotic labor and childbirth, pregnancy kink, consensual somno references, and depictions of a breeding/litter fetish within an established relationship. Includes graphic birth scenes involving multiple babies, intense body worship, anal sex during labor, and simultaneous orgasm and delivery. Reader discretion is advised due to the physical intensity and kink-centered nature of the narrative.Yeah sorry for the long ass notes and warnings lol 

He knelt between her legs, looking up.

Her belly was smaller now, but still taut. Her thighs were trembling, her nipples raw and leaking milk into the small, perfect mouths of their children.

And she was crowning again—already.

John groaned aloud. His cock was already hard again. “Jesus Christ—I can’t believe this is happening—I’m fifty-six—this shouldn’t be—”

But he was, once again, hard... so hard.

He wrapped one hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched her body open again.

His other hand reached up, fingers sliding over her swollen clit.

Clara gasped. “Ohh—ahh—John—yes—don’t stop—”

“You want to come again?” he whispered, lips brushing her thigh. “Come while you give me another one?”

She moaned, long and loud, her body already starting to bear down.

John’s fingers rubbed slow, firm circles over Clara’s swollen clit while he stroked himself with the other hand, eyes fixed on the baby slowly pressing through her open folds. She moaned loudly, breath hitching as her hips rolled forward again, her thighs quivering.

“Ahhh—ohhh—hahhh—John—don’t stop—just like that—”

“Come for me,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Push it out. Let me catch them.”

Clara’s hands tightened around the armrests, her whole body drawing up with the next contraction. Her jaw dropped as the pressure turned unbearable.

“Haaaaaaaah—ngghhhh—ahhh—John—fuck—it’s—it’s coming—”

She screamed through a long, shaking orgasm, the wave of it crashing through her as the third baby shot free from her body, slick and fast, straight into John’s hands.

He caught the baby with a laugh that cracked wide into a sob.

“It’s a girl,” he gasped. “Clara—my God—we have a daughter—”

But Clara’s eyes were wide, her breath short. “Oh—oh no—”

She grabbed the arms of the chair, bearing down again without warning.

John barely had time to look before another gush of fluid spilled across the ottoman in front of her, followed by the wet slap of a fourth baby landing right there in full, wriggling glory.

John’s jaw dropped. “Jesus Christ—Clara—”

Another boy.

She didn’t even have time to register the birth before her body seized again.

“John,” she sobbed. “There’s more—I can feel it—there’s still more in there—I’m still—oh God I’m still—oooooohhhhhh—”

----

Hope you enjoyed this excerpt!

If you love what you read and want even more, consider joining The Preggo Fantasy Vault! For just $5 a month, you get a brand-new, original birth story every Saturday, plus exclusive bonus stories every now and then, meaning you’re getting way more than four exclusive stories a month—stories you won’t find anywhere else. 

So, if you’ve been on the fence, now is the perfect time to join! Let’s make this space even bigger, better, and filled to the brim with the fantasies we love.

Thank you all again—here’s to more stories, more milestones, and maybe… more babies? 😉

Much love, Drew

[alkali1]

After the baby shower

After the final guests leave, we're both exhausted and in need of some relaxation. You're overstimulated and wiped out even from just lying there, the babies' have been rowdy the whole time in response to the constant shower of hands feeling and rubbing your bump. Every guest wanted to feel them kicking, and they couldn't believe how tight and pressurized your boulder of a womb felt underneath the soft layer of fat enveloping it.

I carefully waddle you back to the bedroom, carefully arranging the pillows into a nest that will help support your immense weight. I peel your dress off you; it's completely soaked with sweat and milk. Towards the end of the baby shower, you got so full and engorged that you couldn't keep yourself from leaking right through the thin fabric, to your great embarrassment. Together we heave your colossal brood ball up and into our bed. I rest my hands on your soft hips while you softly whimper, wriggling around in the pillows to try to get comfortable. I notice your breathing is heavy and ragged, the telltale sign of a baby's head being painfully jammed up into your ribs. I carefully press down on the top of your belly, feeling the outline of the nearly toddler-sized baby, gently encouraging it to reposition so you can breathe. You murmur in relief as you feel the head slide free of your ribs, no longer feeling like you have to fight for breath. "Tell me where it hurts, baby." I whisper to you. "Pumps", you plead in reply. I set up the milking machine and suction the cups to your fat nipples. You groan with pleasure and relief as the milk starts to flow freely from your strained udders. Tears are trickling down your face from the overwhelming relief you're feeling. "My feet, please", you whisper. I move down to the end of the bed and start gently massaging them. The excess fluid from your pregnancy gets trapped in your lower extremities by the turgid weight of your womb, and being upright for even a few minutes exacerbates the swelling and aching. Your poor feet are pink and puffy, bloated unrecognizably by the immense strain of your huge pregnancy. I start gently squeezing and rubbing your flattened arches, gradually making them return to a more normal shape and color.