One Nice Bug Per Day
Andulka
styofa doing anything
if i look back, i am lost
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Kiana Khansmith
Xuebing Du
★
Kaledo Art
Discoholic 🪩
h
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
dirt enthusiast
No title available
Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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@the-j-files
looks like you had a busy night, eh weiss?
sorta combined days 4, 5, and 6 of @solarhill ‘s 2026 mayternity prompts into one post— one large egg, many medium eggs, and a ton of small eggs. because who else would push himself to do all three in one night if not weiss?
You always were a pushover.
Every 25 year old on Station Nebula's Edge is required to bear one baby for the stability of the commune. The only way out of the obligation is to find a surrogate who will do the bearing for you.
Luckily for your friends, you have the spine of an overcooked sponge.
First you were only going to carry your own required baby and that of Lyria, your best friend who can't stand the idea of giving up hover ball for the length of a pregnancy. But then Garent heard and begged you to carry his, too, because he wants to travel this year. Soon five more of your friends were needling, bargaining, and downright intimidating you into adding their fetus to your womb.
I've seen a lot about royalty knocking up the court jester (I've even indulged in the fantasy myself), but considering historically a court jester was considered an advisor, meant to keep the king's ego in check (some of the time), a spokesperson for the common people, it would be more accurate for the jester to knock up the royals. (Sorry if this reads a bit awkwardly, every time I went to proof read I got, uh... distracted 👀)
Word count: 1,856
NSFW
Themes: breeding, hyperpreg (heavily implied), royalty, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, lactation
Imagine the King trying to look intimidating and regal on his throne, but his face keeps turning bright pink as the Royal Jester gently roasts him about how he's so fertile and fecund that his baby-filled belly and milk-clogged tits are already threatening the seams of his newly tailored royal garb. Everyone can clearly see the intricate embroidery and beadwork on the King's tunic warp as one of his large restless heirs-to-be shifts and kicks inside, the King barely able to bite back a groan as he tries to soothe the cramped life within him. The Jester is quick to comment on how there are so many royal bastards in there, that the King's hand struggles to reach the spot. Already laughing at their own joke, they challenge the King to see if he can still manage to reach his… belly button. The smug glance down to the King's lap makes some in the royal court gasp, but the King ignores the Jester's attempts to rile him up, his face simply turning a deeper shade of pink, and continues to address court business while he gingerly massages circles into the side of his overburdened womb.
When the topic of planning festivities for future holidays comes up, the Jester makes sure to loudly warn the King against committing to any royal appearances, he already looks so painfully pregnant that they wouldn't be surprised if he spread their legs and popped out a royal baby right that very moment. The King's jaw tenses, his face burning, and the court is secretly unsure if his grunt is a frustrated answer to the Jester's taunts, or if the Jester's prediction is about to come true. A brave courtier brings up the possibility of a few public appearances before the King gives birth, only to be shot down by the Jester before the King can speak. “Can't you see he's gotten so rotund he can barely sit on his throne without losing his breath?” they argue. “Look at him, the poor King couldn't possibly handle being paraded out in front of the public with that litter of his crushing his lungs as they are,” the Jester continues. This time the King's growl of frustration is unmistakably directed at the Jester, who sits back down, an unapologetic shit-eating grin spreading across their face.
The King's final straw breaks while discussing alliances with the numerous neighboring kingdoms at their borders, and the possibility of further solidifying those alliances through the future marriages of the King's heirs-to-be. “Why not arrange marriages with all of them,” the Jester asks. “I mean, it's clear as day the King shall have heirs to spare, just look at him!” they exclaim, clapping a hand on the King's belly, the sound of solid smack resounding throughout the royal halls. Ignoring the King's shout of protest and the sounds of offense from the court, the Jester begins to roughly shake the King's stretched globe of a belly for emphasis. “Hells, by the look of things there'll even be spares left over, I can't imagine this shall be the only litter our dear King has with such a fertile womb and hungry-”
April Fools Prank
Constantly pregnant matron mother. Ostensibly she’s repopulating her House but everyone knows she’s got a fetish
SPF Research Team: Runt of the Litter
(Monster preg, rapid preg, burst teasing but no bursting, monster birth)
“Hello, we are the- Oh, wow, what happened to you?”
The client groans in response.
“Don’t give me that attitude. You’re the one who called us to report a monster. I assume this is the result of that?”
“Well I was hoping you guys could get it out. It’s still in there!”
“I’ll see what we can do, but first we need more information. Mind telling us how this happened now?”
“Let me explain.” *The client panted, taking a deep breath to launch into their story.*
A monster is the runt of its litter, emphasis on runt. Even as an adult in its full maturity, it’ll never be big and strong enough to chase you down, drag you to its secluded lair, and pump you full of its inhuman spawn over and over like its siblings could. After all, it’s so small you can just pick it up and toss it away like a feisty little critter.
So it finds a different way to fill you with its babies. It sneaks into your home while you’re asleep, and thanks to its small size, it manages to force its entire body inside you. By the time you’re woken up by something wriggling its way deep inside, it’s already squeezing into your womb, too late to stop it. Now you can feel it moving around, shifting and squirming like crazy. The more you try to rub your belly to get it to settle down, the more wild its movements become. It’s grinding against your inner walls, getting itself off to cum over and over.
Soon enough your abdomen begins to tighten. Something else is in there, new monstrous offspring rapidly growing and packing your womb with much more powerful squirming. Unlike their runt of a parent, these ones are the average size of this species. Swelling you up to huge proportions before they finally emerge, forcing their way through your birth canal into the outside world until your womb is empty
Well… Not quite. The runt hasn’t gone anywhere. Now that its babies have gone, you can feel it grinding against your insides again. Looks like that was just the beginning
Someone’s at the front door. Maybe a friend, family member, neighbor, whatever. They ask if you’re okay, because they haven’t heard from you in awhile and just wanted to check on you to make sure nothing bad has happened
You’re pressed against the other side. There’s a monster with you, huge and strong and pinning you to the door. Its cock is buried balls deep inside of you, so big that it bulges out your abdomen, visibly throbbing from the outside. Your belly is red and swollen from gallons of thick, hot monster cum. The monster moves its hips, its cock stirring up your insides. It’s been using you for days on end, so long that you can’t remember what it feels like to be empty.
You tell the visitor that you’re fine. It’s just that you’ve gotten really busy or something. Any excuse to make them stop worrying and decide to leave. It’s a struggle to keep yourself from moaning and crying as you talk. Maybe you could be saved if you asked for help. But you don’t know what the monster will do to you or the visitor if they find out.
And so, the visitor leaves. You return to your gasping, screaming, and moaning as you’re ravaged by the monster’s cock. It thrusts in hard, pumping extra seed into your already overstuffed womb. It roughly grabs your swollen belly, making you squeal as the cum loudly sloshes inside you and it begins thrusting its hips again. Who knows how much longer this’ll go on for?
Okay but here me out, credits to @avillicit for their posts but: consider smuggling & rapid pregnancy.
You're the best of the best when it comes to getting something illegal across lines, your record is fantastic, youre making a ton of money off of every drop, and you're on the top of your game. Unfortunately though, you're also a massive fugitive almost anywhere you go. This is the toughest job youve ever had to do, and you're anxious. Your partners come up to you with a job proposal; you're going to be smuggling some sort of illegal monster eggs across the country. It sounds easy enough, but no dice. The eggs are temperamental, they're easily cracked, need to be somewhere damn, and at almost EXACTLY human body temperature, so yeah. At first its a giant fuck no to the job, but then one of your partners flashes you the amount you'll be making off of it, and lets just say- you'll never have to work again if you do this.
It was certainly not going to be an easy job, from start to finish. They were small, and blue almost like egg shaped marbles. Your partners took turns filling you up, you on your hands and knees on a hotel bed, huffing as they continued to shove at least sixty tiny eggs into your body. They didnt feel like much at first, but whenever you shifted, you could feel the whole lot clacking around inside of you, which led to a bit of unspoken horny embarrassment.
After what seemed like forever, you were the fullest youve ever been, and to top it all off by plugging you up so none of them would spill out on the drive there. You stood up, stifling a soft moan as you insisted on making your way to the car. It was barely noticable through your thick, roomy flannel shirt but you could certainly tell what was in you. Due to the plug and dedicated carefulness, you developed a slight waddle which your parents teased you about before you told them to shut up. Carefully, you lowered yourself into the back seat of the truck, holding your belly to make sure nothing got damaged.
The ride was fine at first, as you were used to traversing long distances with your line of work, but after the first hour or so, things began to feel... different. You could've sworn you felt more full than you did as you were leaving. You softly groaned, the discomfort growing as did your abdomen over the course of the ride, you could easily pass for someone nearing the middle of their second trimester. Worried, you brought it up to your partners, and they explained how the eggs had been preserved, and that the human body was the perfect environment for the eggs to rehydrate. After threatening a bit of violence, an apology from them and a stifled moan, you were reminded of the money, which calmed things down.
It had been hours now, at least three, and the growth wasn't stopping yet. Every ten minutes, or bump hit on the road illicited another groan or rub of your belly. At this point you looked almost full term with a single human child, which was starting to concern you. Your shirt was pulled taught against your massive abdomen, straining the buttons to their limit, small diamonds of flesh in between each clasp. You, albeit worried, kept your calm, rubbing your massive middle as you shifted around your plug, the slight stimulation doing wonders for the discomfort. What your partner failed to mention was the compounds in the eggs that would produce a mild aphrodisiac, there to keep the pregnant person placated while they carried. Usually the species carried five or ten, so sixty was doing things to your mind.
Five hours in, you all reached your first checkpoint. Getting pulled over and checked was never fun, and being this huge would make an escape damn near impossible. Luckily for you, the feds took one look at your massive form and just wanted to chat about when you were due, how many you were having, names, blah blah blah. You answered their dumb questions, eager to get away, but you had to play it cool. You thought one of them noticed thar you were getting bigger by the minute, but they chose not to comment on it. You bit your lip, horny, anxious, and impatient as one of your partners reached back to rub your tight belly, giving you momentary relief. Luckily you were all let go. You bounced on your plug, trying to at least work out the frustration that had built while you were being watched, god knows you couldn't reach around to touch yourself now with how massive you were getting.
The ride continued, and so did your growth. By now you were stretched out across the back seat, grunting and moaning whenever a wave of growth hit you, you didn't care about your partners hearing you, or seeing what was becoming of you now, you had half a mind to beg one of them to come back there and fuck you until you popped. But, you settled for humping your plug and rubbing your thumb over your popped navel. Your flannel was long since ruined, only buttoned over your chest to give you more room to grow. At this point you looked like you could pop out triplets or quads if you gave a miniscule push, but the eggs weren't ready yet, and you weren't where you needed to be, and sure as hell you weren't risking losing all of that money. So you sat, huffing and straining and growing, looking at the gps time getting closer to your arrival.
Things were fine for a bit, sure you looked like you were due with quints, but you were so concerned with how horny you were, you barely noticed. After a few pitstops you were almost there, and you couldn't be more ready to pop these things out. They were easily each the size of tennis balls by now, and you could feel them individually move when you bucked your hips ever so slightly. You moaned out, rubbing your sides as the ride continued, cursing and grunting as your sheer mass and the old road moved you on your plug. You were so close now, just a few more thrusts and you'd at least be able to cum. With a few deep breaths and slow movements, you thought you were going blind, until a sudden gush interrupted your thoughts. Fuck, your water broke. You shouted out to your partners, warning them, to which they told you that they could hear it happen from there. You were done. You were pushing, NOW. Bearing down, you held the sides of your enormous middle, pushing the eggs down, down into your canal, only to remember the plug. Gasping and groaning, you alnost sobbed. You were stuck. And there was no way you were getting them out, there was no way you'd be able to reach down there with as big and heavy as you were. Your partner in the passenger seat reached back, rubbing your belly and shushing you, trying to keep you calm. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, horny and contracting as your rubbed your pregnant swell.
This had better have been worth the fucking cash.
Mpreg under the cut
anatomy is difficult at 3am and so is actually cleaning up sketches
(yes I do occasionally draw this sort of thing)
Keep reading
The kids are giving Thor a hard time.
begging to be bred while actively whelping. pushing hard, about to crown, and begging to be fucked as soon as it’s out, before the next pup can even get past my cervix. getting bred between every pup and then as soon as the last one of the litter is out…being knotted while my womb is still open and aching. pregnant again before the contractions even fade.
- Experiment Log -
Subject_001's gestation has exceeded expectations, growing at a much more rapid rate than expected. The subject's abdomen has grown far beyond our previously anticipated size, and continued to swell several weeks past his due date. The experiment has begun to show extreme activity, seemingly testing the limits of Subject_001's abdominal walls, a possible sign that labor is imminent.
Close monitoring will be needed to ensure both subject and experiment survive, Subject_001 has proven to be able to withstand prolonged gestation and produce healthy offspring. Plans for future incubations will be made.
- End Log -
more of weiss dealing with the consequences of his actions 🫃🥚
the more time that passes, the bigger the eggs grow; the more weiss fucks around and gets bred, the more cum the eggs absorb leading them to grow even bigger than before, almost exponentially so; the more the eggs grow, the rounder he gets, and the more he has to rub his distended, sore, tight belly to calm the eggs churning and clinking around inside of his womb. horrible for weiss, absolutely wonderful for us LOL (it makes him horny too dw, why else would he still beg to be bred?)
i might come back and fully color this eventually maybe
Heavy
A preggo who frightfully regards every little noise their belly makes for it might precede another growth spurt~
I just NEED more centralization on the kicking of pregnancy, the pressure, the feeling of your belly being overtaken by the little bulges of the life inside maybe getting cut off mid protest by the sheer force of a kick. Them getting antsy just feeling their other parent’s presence. Weirdly specific part of the fetish jbut feeling your belly grow a little bit each kick. A solid thud against your belly and suddenly a little jerk as your belly groans a few centimetres??? Idk it’s just so good
Oh my god I love the thought of pregnancy movement soooo much too nonnie. Just the fact that's its undeniable activity/proof that there's something alive inside your stretched out middle is so attractive. Already stretched skin undulating with life as the babs/litter inside you perpetually squirm. Being able to feel every shift of movement inside you as they writhe. Just knowing you're carrying something alive? And then not knowing how many you've got crammed in your overstuffed pregnant belly. And all you can do is wonder as more and more different sources of movement start making your belly more misshapen.
AND WAIT, I just registered the belly growing every time you feel a kick prompt!!!
