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@teratoeggsandfreeuse
Body that's been infested so long and so heavily that it contains its own ecosystem of parasites, different species of worms and grubs and slugs and bugs killing and eating each other in their own food chain, fucking and breeding and making more and more generations of themselves entirely within someone's body
Reasons why people would be hotter with tails:
-needy bottoms lifting their tails to expose their holes like animals in heat
-shy bottoms covering their holes with their tails so you can move it aside
-grabbing them at the base of the tail to hold them still while you fuck them
-wrapping your tail around them in public as an act of ownership
- wrapping your tail around their head while they go down on you to keep them in place (especially if you're doing something unrelated with your hands)
-needy subs who's tails get twitchy when they're horny
Taking a couple edibles and then letting someone fuck into you. You can barely even move as they pound into you as if you were just another sextoy. It feels so good you don't even notice when they fuck their knot into you until it's too late, stretching you open until they can slip it in and out of you with ease.
Fucked by guy with a parasite
He's holding you with your back pressed into the ground and your legs pinned open with your knees against your shoulders. He's slamming into you hard. As soon as you're about to cum he stops moving, stuttering out a string of profanity. You feel a pulse inside you and you think he's cumming but suddenly he pulls out. He's panting, eyes screwed shut, whimpering out "come on, come on, come on," like he's begging.
From the position he still has you pinned in you crane your neck to watch as something shifts under his skin. He groans, and that groan turns into a growl. Whatever it is, one end of it is working it's way up his neck into his head, while the other end moves downward. His cock is starting to swell and squirm. The growling intensifies as his fingers dig into your flesh, leaving bruises. His eyes have rolled back so only the whites are visible, and his drool hits your chest as he foams at the mouth. It's no longer him.
It slams it's cock back into you without warning. Despite the thorough fucking you had already recieved, this thick squirming knot didn't enter easily. It grinds into you, forcing it's knot all the way in as you try to fight your way out of it's grip. The pulsating of the knot gets faster and it's growling gets louder. Cockhead bullying it's way deep inside you, and suddenly you feel something bursting it's way out.
It's not cum.
You whine and fight but you can't escape the parasites burrowing into you, working their way into the very core of your body and making you their home. It releases control of his body and he smirks down at you, "Sorry. I tried to hold it back." He starts rolling his hips again and it doesn't take long for you to finally cum hard. You can feel the parasites wriggling excitedly inside you and it makes you wince. "Don't worry babe, you'll feel amazing if you just let them take you."
⛓️ Chained and ready to pop ⛓️
Reblog if you have a breeding/pregnancy kink but don't have and never want kids. Bonus points if you post monster/horror stuff and/or things outside the standard fpreg
when he finally bottoms out inside of you and lets out such a low, ragged and almost desperate sound that makes it known he’s been waiting for this alllllllll day
Hot idea: your pharmacist boyfriend promises to get you plan B after a condom breaks, but he swaps the pill with a look-alike fertility drug.
I lovvvvve a cheeky little drug swap >:3c I also love the idea of this pharmacist boyfriend getting ahead of things and sneaking me remedies so that I don’t really notice my morning sickness or the new aches and pains. He starts encouraging me to eat healthier, both for the baby’s sake and so that when my stomach bloats and flutters inside, he can say that it’s just all the fiber I’m taking in nowadays.
When my belly has grown so big and active that even I, gullible as I am, can no longer believe it’s just gas, I tell my boyfriend I’m gonna take a pregnancy test. He helpfully gets me a box from his job. I distrust the negatives i keep getting, but if I’m as far along as I feel, the only reason the tests would fail are if they’re expired, and when I look at the box, I find they’re well in-date. I don’t think about the fact that my boyfriend opened them in front of me, and how easy it would have been for him to fill the box with expired tests then just pretend like he was breaking the seal for the first time.
When the cramps start, I assume it’s my irregular period finally coming, further supported by my chest feeling tender and puffy. My caring boyfriend pampers me with hot water bottles and little treats that I’m not really hungry for. He tucks me into bed and turns on my favorite show, and I watch, wincing every few minutes at the pain deep inside me. After a few hours I call him over and tell him I’m worried I have an ovarian cyst, but he knows I’m afraid of hospitals, and exploits my fear to convince me to ride the pain out a little longer before we try the emergency room.
When the pressure inside me starts crushing painfully into my spine, towards my perineum, I think maybe I’m just having a bad case of PMS constipation, and I’m glad I didn’t go to the ER and embarrass myself. I’m already on my way to the bathroom when I start to feel the desperate need to push.
A half hour later, I call my boyfriend in, my exhaustion-paled face blotched with overheated red. Humiliated tears mingle with the sweat pouring down my face as I tell him something is wrong, that I think I need to go to the hospital for some kind of bowel problem. His eyes shine with what I perceive as love and concern as he helps me stand from the toilet. I groan as he pulls me up onto bowed legs, and grunt a deep animal noise at the sheer pressure and weight in my pelvis.
Pain seizes me—in my back, my belly, my pelvis, my hips, my inner thighs—and a strained little noise whistles from my throat as all the air goes from my lungs with an involuntary push so powerful that every muscle in my body locks tight. I throw my arms around his neck and press my scrunched face against his shirt, and he holds my arms steady and tells me I’m doing such a good job.
I don’t hear him, because the very last effort of my most recent heaving push turns the dense clenching pain into a burn between my legs. I shriek, then begin to wheeze as my head catches up to my body and I realize all at once that the oppressive feeling inside me is a baby, and the unbelievable fiery sensation is its head settling just inside my pussy lips.
My boyfriend tries fruitlessly to get me to breathe, but I’m still hyperventilating when the next contraction comes. I sob no, that this can’t be happening, I don’t want a baby, as my traitorous body wrings it lower, feeling like it’s tearing my crotch.
I reach a shaky, disbelieving hand around my heaving belly—my big, round, pregnant belly—and squeak in pain as my searching fingers find my cunt bulging horrifically. I whimper despaired whines and half-finished thoughts into my boyfriend’s shirt as I cup the grotesque deformation, my thighs trembling around it, this unwelcome passenger violating the very structure of my body, displacing my bones, threatening to rend my flesh.
I cling to my boyfriend, pitifully rock my hips, and weep as I slowly, slowly push out his big baby. The massive lump its head makes beneath my pussy lips grows larger and larger until finally I feel the flesh begin to spread, winking open around a strip of something hairy and slimy.
I start to sob no again, no, no, no, I don’t want it, I can’t keep pushing, it’s not fair! With his voice endlessly—even suspiciously—patient, my boyfriend asks if I want to push in an easier position. I sob that I don’t want to push, I don’t want a baby!
His warm breath pours over my sweat-drenched head, and he kisses my crown.
“But you are having a baby.”
I wail, voice pitching awkwardly in pain as the head bobs behind my lips with each spasm of my lungs. He runs his big hand up and down my shaking back.
“You’re doing so good, sweet boy,” he murmurs. “Come on. Let me help you get this baby out.”
I’m still sobbing, but with no will of my own, he easily steers me back towards the bedroom. I moan and groan pitifully with the weight hanging shockingly low between my legs. I don’t understand how it’s even still inside me. He doesn’t complain about how slowly I waddle, and helps lower me into a deep squat on some towels on our bedroom floor. It doesn’t occur to me to wonder when he put them there. I’m too busy groaning ruggedly at the pressure, feeling like my hips will pop out of place.
He sits behind me on the bed and loops his hands under my arms, his strong arms crossing over my gasping chest. I cling to his forearms and go limp, finding myself suspended in this impossibly low squat, him supporting me completely.
“Look. Look at you.”
I realize my eyes are clenched shut and peel them open with difficulty. The world is blurry with the pressure in my head and the sweat stinging my eyes. It takes me a moment to understand what I’m looking at.
When I do, a heavy, mourning groan rises from deep in my belly. In the mirror, I see the round, heavy mass clench with my breathing. And below that, the nightmarish, unreal sight of my cunt protruding ridiculously from my pelvis, dark red, clinging tightly to the head of a baby I don’t want. Towards my puffy asshole, the opening of my cunt has begun to round with the child’s head, making a slim teardrop shape.
Squatting there, I gasp for air and blink through tears at my reflection: a man, scruffy beard, hair thinning a bit at the temples, hairy arms flexing harshly as he clings to his boyfriend. I look so normal, just a guy who the world would never guess has a pussy between his legs. Then I confront the crease where my surgically-flat chest gives way to a bulbous pregnant belly. And below that, a gaping birthing hole. A man stuck in a deep squat, turning purple with each push as his labia slowly, slowly opens.
I never think to question why my boyfriend would situate me here, or why he’s so even-headed and calm as we both watch me push out the head. I don’t notice how keen and thrilled his eyes glitter when I make sharp, pained noises. I don’t catch the hint of delight on the edge of his mouth as I struggle over several contractions to reach the crown, charmed with my pattern of declaring it’s coming out, only to find with the next push that I still had further to stretch.
When I finally reach the crown, I try to scream, but my voice is too spent. He kisses my head and tells me how amazing I am. I pant against his grip on my chest and make noises like a flat harmonica in my throat as I try to master my lungs or my voice. I can’t pull my eyes from the dark oval of the head, reducing my cunt to forced-aside furrows of flesh.
A head is coming out of me. I’m crowning. A baby is coming out of my pussy. I’m giving birth.
After crowning for two agonizing minutes, my body contracts, and I put everything I have into getting this fucking thing out of me. I throw my hips forward and grunt like a Neanderthal, chin hitting my sternum and chest depressing and eyes darkening and hearing fading as I push beyond my limits. I black out for a moment, only to find that my arms have instinctively fallen limply between my legs to catch the baby that I just shoved head and shoulders out of my birth canal.
I wince as I drag its weird little feet out of my pussy. My arms tremble as I hold it before me, staring at it, how it moves in strange jerky motions, how the disgusting blue cord dangles from it, into me. How did I not know this was inside me?
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” my boyfriend says, and ducks down to kiss my cheek. I numbly let him seat me gently on the ground, and blink blankly as he grabs another towel and cleans the baby up until it cries. His brilliant smile makes no sense to me. I stare at him as he peels my sweaty shirt up from my chest, and don’t protest when he helps me cradle the child against my pec. I don’t even have the energy for shock when it latches onto my fattened nipple and apparently gets a few drops of something from my ever-so-slightly swollen chest. Sure. Why not?
While the thing I just pushed out sucks nutrients from my body, I hear myself say, “I guess Plan B isn’t 100 percent effective.”
“Hm?” my boyfriend hums absentmindedly, staring at the baby. It takes him a long time to finally say, “Oh. No, it’s 89 percent effective at most.” That smile lights up his face again. I feel cold. “Lucky for us, huh?”
I look back at the mirror, him fawning over his baby that I had to push out, blood still leaking from my ruined pussy.
“Yeah. Lucky.”
god i wish aphrodisiacs worked the way they do in fanfiction. fuck or die/sex pollen stuff is insanely hot to me. like, yes, please, get so horny your mind breaks a little and you fuck me for hours without a break, cumming in me over and over before it clears your system. maybe you feel kind of bad after and clean me up and snuggle me, but i'm secretly thinking of where i can find more of that stuff so that you do it again. shame it doesn't work like that :/
can’t stop thinking about object insertion, especially accidental/forced/public object insertion.
you’re on a crowded subway and you feel so cute in your skirt that’s just little too short. you feel something cold touch your thigh from behind and flinch, but it’s too crowded to turn around and look. The cool sensation, maybe it’s metal? It’s dragging up your thigh a little higher now, under the hem of your skirt, and oh right, you’re wearing a thong today. There’s nothing stopping whatever this is from being pushed up against your hole.
You can feel your face turning red, feel the shiver in your stomach, but luckily you don’t see anyone paying attention to you. You start to turn your head, maybe you can at least see what’s happeni— the subway jolts hard as it comes to a stop, and it’s inside you, cold and hard and you know you moaned, but hope it got lost in the noise. You can feel it now, although it’s not that deep. The head of a metal water bottle, you think. You clench around it, almost involuntarily, and you’re definitely leaking now.
Are they doing it on purpose? It’s not moving, even as people exit and enter the train around you. You’re not moving either. You kind of want to. The subway starts up again, and with it, the bottle pushes a little deeper, and a little deeper, with the swaying of the train. It’s starting to stretch your hole as it gets wider, put there are passengers packed in on every side and you can’t move. Deeper, and it’s starting to hurt. How big is the bottle? Are they doing it on purpose?
You feel so full now, and it’s heavy, like it’s filled with water. But it’s moving so slow, and you can’t help but clench and buck your hips back a little, fucking yourself on the bottle. The train picks up some speed and suddenly it’s sliding in and out of you, rubbing against your spot with enough force that you can feel yourself getting close. The train is reaching a station again and fuck, you’re amount to cum in the middle of a crowded subway. It screeches to a stop and this time the water bottle slams deep inside of you, too deep, and you’re cumming, whimpering and spasming on the thick, cold metal. A few glances are thrown your way from passengers, but you’re too hazy from the pleasure to notice anything but the cum dripping down your thighs and the humiliation of what’s happening.
What was your stop again? More people are filing in and it’s too late to move or pull away. The bottle is still in you, still stretching and stuffing you. You don’t even know if its owner is still behind you, or if it’s just being held up by your tight hole. You realize if you take it out now, everyone will see the bottle fall from under you. They’ll know exactly why you were shaking and panting, and notice the cum flowing down your legs. You have to keep it in. You’ll have to walk off the subway without anyone knowing that under your skirt, a stranger’s thick, full water bottle is stuffed up your hole, fucking you with every step you take. It’s going to be a long ride. How many more times will you cum with all those people around you, not knowing if this was an accident, or if someone decided to shove something up your pretty hole because you were an easy target?
Casual boy's night, just sitting on the couch watching porn, your cock growing hard in your pants and my hand slipping into my boxers because we're just two guys hanging out and jerking off. Until we both wonder what it'd feel like to just slide your cock along the wet slit of my cunt. Then, "It'd be quick, just the tip bro", but your balls get so full you can't take it anymore and spread my legs open as far as they can go, not taking long before you have to ram your cock into my dripping hole, pounding me until I'm begging, "Fuck, oh fuck don't stop dude your cock feels so good inside me, fuck".
CNC because choices overwhelm me. 💞
Stuck
You saw the orc at the other end of the passage.
Exploring a dungeon by yourself was dangerous, but you had been an adventurer for over a year. This was supposed to be an easy dungeon too.
You could tell at a first glance though that this orc was more than you could handle.
Thankfully, you're an accomplished mage. You slapped a piece of parchment on the wall, casting a spell. The wall became like an illusion, and you dived through.
A large hand followed you through the wall, catching your thigh. It pulled you off your feet and towards the wall again.
The spell broke suddenly, and you found your waist encased in the dungeon's wall. Your upper torso and arms were on one side of the wall. Your lower side was on the other side. The side with the orc.
It took you a moment to realize that the bag with your magic spell components was on the side with the orc.
Fuck.
You struggled despite knowing that it was futile. You couldn't do anything. You were going to die!
Then, you feel more than hear the crotch of your pants being ripped off, followed soon by your underwear.
Your legs closed, out of shock and a sense of modesty. The shock of cold air on your bare pussy had you shivering.
The feeling of large hands around your clothed thighs. Your legs were forcefully pried apart, exposing your bare pussy again.
There was then a blunt, warm pressure against your sex. It rubbed up and down on your pussy, so you could feel the size of it.
It was, in a word, huge. There was no way you could take it.
Please, don't put it in.
Of course, the orc wouldn't care about what you wanted if you could speak to it.
The head of the orc's dick pressed inside you slowly but inexorably. You cried out and gasped and whined. The stinging pain of being stretched beyond your limits had you sobbing.
Whenever you thought all of it was in you (there couldn't possibly be more), you were proved wrong as another excruciating inch was pushed in.
Finally, the sensation of the the orc's balls against you tell you that it was over. You were full beyond belief, tears streaming down your face.
Then, half of the dick pulled out and pushed back in forcefully.
You cry out.
The orc did it again. And again. And again.
The orc pounded into you unceasingly while you writhed helplessly. You clawed at the walls, seeking something to hold. Your legs twitched involuntarily. You can barely breathe as the force of the thrusts pushed breath after breath out of you.
At some point, your pussy had become wet with slick and precum. Your pussy was also getting used to the stretch, being just a sting.
You realize you're starting to enjoy it. That your gasps were half moans. That you almost wished the orc would play with your clit too.
Unbidden, your orgasm built and then overtook you. You cried with pleasure and humiliation.
The dick inside of you kept pounding away, drawing out the orgasm until it was simply painful with overstimulation. Then, until it became pleasurable again.
The endless thrusting continued, and you came over and over until you forgot to be ashamed.
An eternity later, the orc came. He came and came inside you until you felt a cramping inside.
You felt a gush of cum drip down your boneless legs when the orc pulled out.
After the warmth and girth of the orc's dick, you feel empty. Your bare pussy cold.
Then, another large, warm head pressed against your leaking pussy.
There were more, you dimly realized.
You had no idea when the fucking would end.
Imagine getting swarmed by little slimes and they just slip into you one after another so giddily, stuffing you way beyond full but they just literally never stop coming /°w/°
Permapreg in the 'no magic can evict this slime from my womb' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'laying eggs for hours and being just as pregnant by the end of it' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'constant, extremely arousing movement' type of way.
#I already said this but something colonizing your womb leaving you perpetually full and round #Frequently writhing inside you and occasionally you're giving birth to its offspring - eggs or even something else #But you can spend hours pushing out a clutch/litter without your belly ever looking any less full. #Reblogs #Preg kink #Your belly is active the entire time you're in labor as of it's working to push its children out but that's nothing compared to later #You're barely able to catch your breath before it starts writhing roughly - deliciously. It must be making more you thinkn #You stroke your permanently swollen belly and you don't even *want* to be free from whatever's in you
prev's tags had to be preserved
Guy carrying an egg in his belly that grows so large he doesn’t so much go into labor as simply run out of room. The egg is already staggeringly massive when it begins to peek out of his hole, and it slowly spreads him over the course of days as it gets bigger and bigger. With his muscles so stretched, he has no strength to push, so the only way for the egg to come out is to wait for it to naturally stretch him past its widest point. In the final days of carrying the egg, it’s so large that the guy can’t even stand or sit, so he can only crawl, groaning and whimpering, the strained skin of his belly dragging on the ground. And with his agonized hole hypersensitive to the touch of fabric, he can’t bear to cover his ongoing birth with any garment, so everyone sees the dome of the egg bulging through his swollen-red ass as he crawls around. He could attempt to wear something that’s simply open-backed, but there’s no point in trying to protect his modesty when his cock, stiff and dripping from the constant pressure on his prostate, will always tent the fabric and leave an obvious stain every time he cums from still being so pregnant while so deep into the throes of birth.
Drew him btw 🥰
And yes he’s rock hard 🥰
Do people still like watching guys cum in their boxers?
(Rbs are appreciated)
