The idea of having a breeder instead of a boyfriend, having someone who loves you enough to organize you to be bred and full with different people's litters constantly like you're a farm animal
I have just remembered something and it's so stupid but I think someone might enjoy it
Like I had this friend and she was sheltered as fuck like for someone not raised in religion it was concerning how little and how obscured her view of the world was. Anyway, she liked this boy and she intended to have sex with him but didn't actually (too tight so he just came on her pussy instead, bam, that's absolutely intercourse) and life went on.
Well it did until like a week later, I don't know if she was late or if she was just paranoid or what but she was so concerned that he had gotten her pregnant just by cumming on her that she made me take a test with her and this absolutely makes me a shit friend (she was a shit person but that's besides the point it doesn't condone it) but the entire time as we were waiting for her test to develop, all I could think was god, let her be pregnant.
Like, it was biologically impossible, that's simply not how it works, but watching her panic over it was... something. And she wouldn't have gotten rid of it, or at least aborted it, if she was pregnant and that would've put me in a very interesting position as someone she trusted and her being very graphic about very small insignificant things, do you understand what I would've been put through if she was pregnant? It would've been constant feed of updates and complaints and I don't think my heart could take it.
She wasn't, obviously. But what a fun few minutes.
Taking a pregnancy test with your long term partner and being too nervous to look yourself so he does and, looking at the two pink lines, tells you it's negative and you go about your life letting him assure you that you must have something chronic, maybe a thyroid issue, but doctors don't listen to people like you so don't even try when you continued to be sick and put on excessive weight until you were on your knees with the head of the baby you were told wasn't there slowly stretching you open.
Birth lovers I invite you to watch the IT welcome to Derry series like, I've only watched the first two episodes but it's been a whole lot of birth horror like the first 'scare' was a very graphic culty clothing birth not even before the title screen, it was... ‼️
I'm gonna try to get a screen recording when I find a pirate site that lets me do that without nerfing me but I highly recommend it 🙏
Because like obviously getting knocked up by an orc is what life is worth living for, they are absolutely massive creatures with natural muscle and fat stores that are way bigger than a human- that means way fatter kids than what your human biology would allow and, of course, imagine how fun it was to put it in 😋
However, Orcs are Orcs and don't you just want to fuck a baby into one and watch them push a head out? I want to get an orc pregnant, fucking watch me. I will get my orc character in dnd pregnant somehow. This has gone on a slight tangent.
Y'all know I'm a lover of aliens as my lover and this video came up on my fyp on tik tok and it got my thinking, would I?
And honestly, still yes, most definitely, in my head my aliens aren't really that human shaped but they don't really look like that- somewhat bipedal was the main idea though.
I think I'm going to have to write a strange alien species fic now, fucking watch me
EUGH crazy interpersonal talk but like I need sex help 😭🙏
Like I've mentioned on here before that I'm CRAZY sick and to help manage some of the manageable stuff I'm on some pills and those pills have the side effects to either make it so ALL hormonal birth control just doesn't work any more (I can still get a coil or something but I'm technically SEND and therefore any decisions about procedures goes through my parents and they flat out refused to let me so it's not happening and I can't even go behind their backs 😥) which would be FINE cuz #breeding if on the event I did get knocked up, the doctor who made me sign all the paperwork saying I understood these were the side effects TWO YEARS AFTER BEING ON IT AND DEPENDENT that the best case scenario would be if me and the kid died. Not a good situation so I just (irl) stick to women romance and keep the people with dicks part of my Omni sexuality in fantasy land (hence why I don't really do much wlw stuff on here, I can do that irl, men and monsters are the same level for me)
HOWEVER 😭 I met this really cute and really awesome Dom in a pub who actually likes me and he gives me space and learns about me and takes interest in me and OH MY GOD BIGGEST CRUSH ON THIS MAN HE IS SO INDULGENT IN WHAT I WANT ITS UGH 😫 literally when i first met him he put me into pup space by just talking and touching me and ive just never left it and it's been MONTHS like 5 months of no pussy for this man and he still wants to talk to me 🙏
The issue is that he actually wants to fuck me, like physically put his dick in me. He's mentioned that he wants to do it raw but I think it's okay to go 'oh not raw on the first time you fiend' but like, I've been put off PV sex SO MUCH over the past year, just the idea of it puts me WAY OFF but it doesn't mean I don't like him, you know? And it doesn't mean that I'm not sexually attracted to him because I am, you know? I don't know.
Thing is, we HAVE had the what we like and what we don't like in bdsm convo because we already have a very explicit sexual relationship even though it's just over the Internet (although I have met him and that's how I've met him, it's not that strange) but this is a VERY new kind of ehhhh thing about me- ESPECIALLY SINCE I HAVE THE WORST BREEDING KINK KNOWN TO MAN, LOOK AT MY BLOG 💔- he already knows a few of my boundaries (and DIDN'T take advantage of me when I was drunk out of my mind wanting to blow him in a back alley which is a baseline requirement but that's modern day brownie points) but it's just UGH
I feel like if I explain that I want him, I just don't want his dick in me, that he'll feel like I've just been stringing him along for the past 5 months or I'm scared he'll just do it anyway which is a separate problem entirely.
I don't really know how to solve this issue because he makes it very clear on the fact he wants to fuck me pretty frequently only today he decided he wanted to get organized and make plans to actually do it or for me to call him whenever I like so he can pick me up and fuck me in his car which is... romantic. I didn't know how to answer that so I just ignored him because what the hell am I supposed to say to that? I've been trying to man up the courage to tell him about the 'if you fuck me, you're wearing two condoms, bucko' thing cuz I'm not risking shit in this political climate but I haven't been able to because sexting is 95% fantasy land and I didn't want to ruin the mood with health concerns but I feel like I'm going to have to if I have any chance at keeping him or at least stop him from talking to himself on Instagram messages.
Has anyone been in a similar situation? Can anyone help? Can anyone smack some sense into me? I don't have any friends to tell me I'm doing something wrong so I rely heavily on the Internet for moral support like a psychopath.
The concept of going into labor and making sure you're in the worst possible place to give birth.
Like I was just daydreaming and I was thinking about my waters breaking at home, probably having had contractions for a hot minute, and instead of getting ready to go to the hospital or getting comfortable at home, I immediately hop on the bus and go to town and go to the museum/library (same place in my city it's actually really annoying) and walk around it until there's a baby physically falling out of me.
We all know that big bellies and big babies are GREAT but might I bring to the table- small belly, big baby.
Like I was talking to this guy at the bus station and the last time I saw them they were pregnant, but I didn't think they were THAT pregnant and they were pretty small in themselves in general and had one of those small but very round bumps (I was doing my best to keep the conversation on mtg so I didn't want to ask details, sometimes nerd beats horny) and I hadn't seen them for a hot minute and obviously they weren't pregnant anymore so I asked and they were more than happy to talk to me about it 🙏
Like apparently they thought they didn't get that big, they would have a smaller -but -definitely -healthy -size -baby because if it wasn't, they would've been told explicitly and it made sense since they were always a small kid. Apparently what happened was that their doctor assumed they understood everything she was talking about and they didn't, so when they went into labor they found out that they didn't have that much fluid in them at all- and amniotic fluid is the cushioning and does usually make up a good amount of the size so what they thought was a 'small' baby was a very fat one with not that much fluid. The more you know.
I want to write a fic with that but I don't know if it's insensitive, I mean it's not like they're gonna find out or anything but like yk
The first time I ever noticed that my whole pregnancy and birth fascination that I had my whole life changed to 'that makes me feel an interesting kind of weird, huh' was with the orcs in the start of the 2016 Warcraft movie, I used to have it on dvd and I kept reminding it to the start after they put the goats life into the baby over and over again and whenever someone asked what I was doing I just said that I liked the orcs and it's an autistic household so that was a reasonable answer 😭
I have no idea what happened the rest of the movie I only remember the start by fucking heart 💀
No because I NEED some more med fet centred birth fics for my general well being 🙏🙏
Like a home birth is nice and good and all, I do understand the appeal but what about having complete strangers forcing you around and touching you, not giving a crap that you're in pain? That your entire breeding hole is out? Being with your partner, who put that litter in you, and having them watch as a doctor has almost his entire hand in you to feel for progress?
And having very little to no say on what happens during your labour, you might have a plan you want to follow but if the doctor deems it 'necessary', he can have you however he likes and put you however he likes and give and withdraw whatever he likes for the sake of your health.
That eat your moots snake thing was an awful way for me to learn that all the people I thought I was moots with on this account I was actually following on my normal main 😭
Finding a camera at a charity shop with the sd card still in it and getting the absolute pleasure of looking through some strangers memories before you clear it so you don't have to buy a new card. It's mostly of some girl taking videos of herself walking and getting ready and talking to herself since 'its the only way she gets things done quickly' (a direct quote from one of her very lengthy videos trying to get from a bar to the train station that you watched in its entirety).
One of the videos after a vast amount of pictures of a concert, was of her in her hotel room in the same makeup, sitting on the edge of her double bed with the camera set on whatever surface was opposite. "So the concert was good," she began, her hands rested back against the bed. "I think I've thrown my back out or gotten alcohol poisoning or something, which is ridiculous because I'm not old enough to be getting any of those things- I've got young bones and a young liver that can take me jumping around and drinking thank you very much." She argued, with no one, before a hand went to her back and she sighed. "I don't want to die in my sleep in fucking peckham so I'm talking to you until this sorts itself out."
She took a breath and pressed her hand further into her back in an attempt to help relieve the ache. Her face scrunched slightly whilst her hips pressed back into the bed. "Like, this has been going on since the second set." She managed to grumble out. "Don't ask me to math that out- I think it's getting worse, or at least more annoying."
She exhaled deeply, staying still for a moment before she could breathe properly again and lightened her hand. "Fucking burning-" she sighed as she rose to her feet to start pulling her top off, before stopping with it halfway up her stomach to look into the camera. "...it's fine, I'll delete this later." She decided before pulling it fully off along with her skirt. "Don't worry, camera, I'll leave my socks on so we're not gay." She said, before picking up the camera and pointing it downward so it got a good view of her stripey thigh high socks and her light colored panties before setting it back down.
She left the frame for a moment, the white bed sheets and the wall behind it the only thing in view whilst the sound of the tap running from the bathroom echoed faintly, followed by a minute of light groaning from the same direction.
The running water turned off and quiet panting grew as she entered back into the main room. "Camera? Holy shit-" she picked up the camera and pointed it at the long mirror on the back of the closet door beside her bed. Her light blue panties had turned almost see through, a lick of pink staining at the crotch and the insides of her stockings stuck to her and darkened from the wet. More was coming in gradual drips, she closed her legs tightly together but it didn't stop her stockings from getting soaked.
She looked back up at the mirror, a long crease forming between her eyebrows. She looked like she was going to say something but the pain took it out of her, her jaw went tight and trembled as her free hand grabbed for the closet to stay upright. The camera was pointed directly at her face in the mirror, watching her face scrunch up and her jaw fluctuate between tension and letting her cry out whilst her bare chest stuttered for a decent breath.
She dropped the camera, needing two hands to keep her up. That recording ended.
Luckily there was a video immediately after.
She took to lying on the bed, soaked underwear disposed of- although not the socks- and the camera propped up on a pile of pillows on the edge of the bed, giving you the nice view of her lack of underwear; although she was lying with her legs curled to the side so it wasn't too much of an issue.
"So I'm dying." She started. "I'm dying and I'm going to die in peckham." She sighed deeply, moving her legs open completely so you could, in fact, see all of it. All you could see was her pussy, her stomach, the insides of her thighs, the underside of her tits and her face- only because she had it propped up with pillows.
Her stomach physically tightened as her hand grasped for the bed sheets. "Another-" she groaned to the camera. The camera did her no favors, every harsh gasp for air and every groan was caught, the sounds of her pussy clenching was heard with the camera being so close to it.
When she finally managed to relax, she didn't move and just panted. She glanced back at the camera, probably usually the damn thing as a mirror, before she tensed again with a whine. Her entire body was pink from exertion, sweat making a point to get off as much of her makeup as possible.
"There's something coming out of me-!" She huffed as her stomach tensed. She seemed to be right, the camera's focus seemed to pan directly onto the bulge growing behind her mound, slowly working it's way down to her swollen lips. As she worked it down, her groans of pain turned into something pathetic. Her hips shifted and her thighs even closed briefly as she opened up just a little bit, deciding it was already too much and tried to get away from it.
"Hnnn- stop- get out!" She whined, pushing but refusing to remain still. "Ow- oh- no- stop!" The head stretched and split her open far too quickly, a wet sound being caught on the camera, and it was enough for her to stop squirming.
"What the shit? Oh my God- I'm having a fucking baby." Panting, she touched the top of the head sticking out of her. "Oh God, is that blood? Am I bleeding? Shit-"
She groaned out again and returned her grasp to the bed sheets. "No! I'm not doing anything else!" She argued with absolutely nobody as she panted harshly and tried to ignore the head currently sticking out of her. It lasted all about thirty seconds before she was pushing again.
"No, come on!" She whined. "Move! Come out!" She pulled her stockinged knees up to her chest and tried to push that way, the camera having the perfect view of her stretched pussy and asshole and the small tear between the two. When her pussy started to bulge again with the first shoulder, she was sobbing. It popped out along with the second one and she didn't get any relief as the body held her open, continuing to shove it out until it just fell out of her and onto the bed.
"Fuck-" she panted, moving to go check on whatever the hell just came out of her. "I'm not being done for manslaughter, are you okay?" She held the baby for a second before it started crying, she exhaled. "It's fine, we're fine. Shit."
She looked back at the camera and then at the baby and then back at the camera. "I'm so glad I'm not dying in peckham, never coming back to this shit hole ever again. Nope. No." She sighed, going to turn off the camera.
Yeah there is a 64% chance I'm going to finish this fucker, turns out writing birth scenes are really fucking hard- I struggle writing smut too, I genuinely don't understand what it is, I basically only read graphic smut and birth fics and yet I'm IMMACULATE PERFECT MWA MWA at scenic descriptions and fluffy stories and dialogue I DONT WANT TO WRITE THAT I WANT TO HUMP 😭
I need more practice so I'm gonna let y'all have this early and let someone else finish it, you're almost crowning, congrats 🫶
Demons, ghosts, non con ish, definitely dub con, birth, tentacle stuff, maybe drugging but it's magical so yeah, mental health mentioned but it's not that bad it's just a reasoning- like if 50 shades met drop dead fred- 6000+ words
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Outgrowing your childhood imaginary friend was what was generally expected as you got older, it was what every child therapist had assured your parents from the ages five to fifteen until they gave up and set you on a high dose of Olanzapine to make him go away.
Kit- short for Kitty Cat because that's how far a five year old's naming abilities went when naming creatures of the beyond- was a fond memory, your favourite part of your youth that your psychiatrist warned you to stop feeling so positively towards when you first started your medication. For someone you could talk so much about, he was so hard to describe. Tall, definitely, very tall, so tall that sometimes he took up the entire room with his shadow and others he was just the size of the doorframe where he would supervise interactions where he wasn't the focal point, always watching but never judging.
You never saw his face. Well, you saw where his face should've been and the eyes that where eyes were, for someone so tall and able to change shape he did stay somewhat proportioned where it counted so you always knew where to look, he even lifted his teacup to where a mouth should've been when you had tea parties so you were sure he did in fact have a face of some kind. Kit always carried around his own darkness, it was as if the overhead light just didn't touch him and he was wearing an invisible hat that shrouded his features apart from his unusually bright white eyes. He spoke clearly and correctly, sounding exactly how a five year old would expect a gentleman to speak in the olden days with a profoundly posh British accent that always made you giggle.
No matter how much you tried to resist or how often you puked them up, the pills worked and Kit stopped visiting you not long after, with the encouragement of your psychiatrist you slowly forgot about him and turned your focus into pretending you were a normal human being.
You got through highschool alright, made a couple friends in college and had a fucking undergraduate, how cool is that? Take that schizophrenia! You still had to check in with the doctor every six months or so to make sure you were doing alright but you were, as much as anyone in this political climate could be, the routine of education and working part time worked for you, and you had actual living, breathing friends. You were fine.
You opted for evening and night classes where possible, the cafe you worked at letting you have the opening shift since it was quieter, it meant you had a nice chunk in the middle of the day to actually get some work done for the class that night in true student fashion. You were in an theology course, it wasn't like you were gonna be a lawyer or anything, it was fine to take your time a bit.
Since it was absolutely freezing out, you took your work into the library instead of on the steps like you preferred. It seemed like everyone else on campus who had a break at that time had the same idea, or there was something happening- you were never one for dates- since so many other mother fuckers were huddled around the tables and computers. Not being one to be dissuaded once they get an idea in their head, you moved into the book shelves and sat your ass down on the floor next to the paleontology section.
You got out your textbook and started to go over what you needed for the class in a few hours. This wasn't the ideal situation, it wasn't normally this loud in here, you could focus more on what every other fucker in the room was saying instead of what you were reading and you were absolutely certain someone was getting fucked up against the opposite side of the paleontology section with how the old bookshelf was being moved. Wonderful.
You sighed, luckily you have a pill for that.
You pulled your bag onto your lap, digging to find one of your many 'take as needed' drugs until you caught the look of something looking back at you from across the library. It was too crowded to be sure, you wasn't really sure to be honest. It was tall, standing very still amongst the moving crowd coming and going from whatever activity was happening on the main table, a shadow of someone you was supposed to forget and, for the first time, seeing Kit filled you with fear.
You stared at him, you stared at him for a long time- you were good at staring, perhaps too good because you were tapped on the arm by one of your friends. You blinked and he was gone. "Are you alright?" She asked, crouching down next to you, perhaps a reasonable thing to ask if she had watched you glare at supposedly nothing- or worse- a group of people- for however long, you were good at staring.
"Yep." Was all the answer she got before you got up and got the fuck out of there to head to the dorms building.
The moment you got in there you locked the door behind you and took your night dose of antipsychotics then and there, clearly you needed something and you didn't normally have to take them willy fucking nilly. You downed a can of coke and half a bottle of water too in case you were dehydrated and ate some cheese in case you had imagined eating that bagel for breakfast and you were actually in starvation mode before forwarding your work to your professor because like hell were you leaving your room in a potential mental crisis or with enough pills to kill a small child in your system.
You got into bed with the intention to stay there until the morning, laptop playing YouTube, a bag of veggie straws beside you to snack on and a nice crispy bottle of water. Healthy coping. You watched your roommate come in not too long after you had properly settled down to get ready for a night out and to check you hadn't died, how sweet. You gave her a thumbs up, diverted her towards the dress with the cut out and offered her a veggie straw for the road.
By the time it was dark, you were out, all the horse pills having done their job to knock you the fuck out with your video playing quietly as you slept. You heard some creaking in your room, you assumed it was your roommate coming back early, normally she was very good at not bringing anyone back with her, especially when you were having a moment, so you weren't particularly worried when someone turned off the video. You were worried, however, when you felt someone touching your hair, combing it back out of your face.
You were tranquilized, not sedated.
You smacked off whoever touched you, the adrenaline of the unknown dragging you back from sleep quick. "Anna?" You asked into the dark of your room, calling once more before you were met with two glowing eyes amongst the darkness.
You didn't dare scream, it wasn't as if you didn't try, the sound died into a pathetic whimper into the back of your throat as you backed into the corner of the wall. This couldn't be happening, this physically couldn't be happening, you took everything you should've and more. Did you take too much? Fuck, you should've called your psychiatrist.
They eyes watched you for a moment, a animal like chuffing coming somewhere behind them. Your bedside lamp flickered on and your dorm was covered in the dim orange light, all but missing Kit.
He looked so much different to when you were a kid, different to how he appeared in the library. He hunkered down his tall slenderness to a large mass, like a big dog sitting on its haunches, shoulders rounded. You forgot that he could change his shape however he pleased, it was still freaky.
He tilted his head, squinting at you. "What's wrong?" He asked calmly, his voice echoing inside your head like it always did- proof it wasn't real, said the shrink. "I thought you'd be happy to see me, possum."
Possum. Fucking possum, that was a name you hadn't heard in a long time but fuck did it make you feel oddly comforted for a second, it always did. "You fucking touched me, you're not supposed to be able to do that." You inhaled, tucking your knees to your chest to keep as much distance away from the edge of the bed as possible, away from him. "You're not real. You're not real-!"
A low, very quiet growl ebbed deep into your brain, echoing around your room. "I didn't teach you to use language like that or to talk to people like that, you become more like your father every day, I ought to wash that mouth out."
You sputtered, the bar of Dettol from the bathroom filling your mouth, sudsing up against your tongue as you pulled it out. You spat out lemon scented suds, sucking on your sleeve to try to get the antibac out of your mouth, that couldn't be safe.
"Spitting too? What ever did they do to you in there?" He sighed, letting you cough up Dettol. When you had finished and looked up, he was no longer beside the bed. He had returned to his usual, spectrally slender self and had taken to making tea in a china tea pot that you were sure you, and nobody on campus, owned before pouring the purple liquid into the most dainty matching teacups you've ever seen, much too small for a creature of that size but it seemed to amuse him nonetheless.
He walked back over, pulling a chair out of absolutely nowhere and sat down beside your bed, offering you a cup of the tea. When you didn't immediately take it, he just placed it on your bedside table and sipped at his own. "You're all grown up, possum." He stated wistfully, like that was the start of something, one of his adventures or stories he used to tell, they all used to start with something like that.
"Please go away." You pleaded, you never had to plead with him before, he didn't normally scare you before either. "Dr Ceder said you are not real so you are not real, you were fun when I was a kid but I am now asking you to go."
"Dr Ceder is a quack, they were all quacks." He reminded you firmly, "Don't you remember spending every Wednesday drawing me in all those offices, talking about our games? They just didn't believe you because they think they're better than you only because they have no sight, no imagination or fun."
"Then why did you go away when I got the antipsychotics?" You accused, looking right back at him. He squinted like he had the biggest smile on his face. "I'm schizophrenic, that's what they told me. The pills and the therapy keep me regulated so if you're real they wouldn't have worked."
He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of tea. "I may have pushed things a little bit too far, you know what I'm like. Clearly your folks were at their wits end and I didn't want you to spend your life in a ward, as nice as it was, you win over me every time." He explained. "Drink your tea, it's your favourite, I know you haven't had it for a while."
After a moment of watching and considering, you took the cup and retreated back to your corner, taking the most smallest of sips. Sweet moon dust and lavender tea, he was right, you hadn't had it for a while, not since you forced him out- or he left? Either or, it had been over ten years and it was just as good as it was when you were a kid.
"Why are you back?" You asked carefully. "What are you doing here after so long?"
"Why? For you. I thought I made that quiet clear." He said, you felt a chill despite the warm tea you were sipping. "I missed my possum, didn't you miss me?"
You sighed, putting your knees back down, slightly less guarded. "I don't need you anymore, I'm better now."
"Who said anything about you needing me?" He chuckled fondly as he put his cup down on the bedside table. "This is a flight of fancy for me mostly, I need you more than you need me, I know that. Like I said before, I missed you."
You took another sip of your tea, feeling the weight of the cup in your hand, the perfect warmth it projected but never changed, how it washed the chemical lemon taste from your mouth. You were starting to believe that this was actually happening, some young part of you was relieved that you were not crazy and your best friend was real but that part was drowned out by any rational thinking.
"I'll tell you what." He began again after a moment. "Why don't you fill me in on what you've been up to? What are your friends like? How are your studies going? I have tried to keep tabs but it's so hard at a distance."
You looked back from your cup to him. "You've been around?"
"I've been in many places."
"Where do you actually come from? Where have you been?" You asked, which probably should've been a question you asked when you were a kid when you were curious about everything, questioning the shape shifting shadow man seemed to have slipped your mind.
He paused, picking up his cup again to take a long sip of it as he considered what to say. "That is on the agenda, first I want to catch up with my possum if that's alright?"
The vague answer threw you off completely but it wasn't unwelcome, he was the master of vague answers and riddles with questionable meanings, so you gave in. You told him about your time in the psych ward without him, about going to your prom with a group of friends and getting pancakes at two in the morning all dressed up, about being too scared to drive a car and how much you love studying people's points of view. Everything, and he listened and contributed with as much enthusiasm and wonder as he always did for anything you had to say, it felt a little condescending to be praised and oooed at liked a child but still, you saw he meant no harm. It felt like you had been talking for hours, you suspected the sun would be coming up soon but when you caught the clock on the wall, it hadn't moved since you fell asleep- he did that often when you were a kid to make playing before school or bed last longer without consequences, although you'd still fall asleep at your desk.
"And you enjoy talking to people now? All people?" He asked, enthralled by the notion that you of all people were so chatty to anyone other than him.
"Most people, I work the counter at the café I work at so I get to say hello to all sorts." You responded. After so long of talking, you had calmed from the initial shock and had moved slightly from the corner of the bed to just the back wall, he saw that as tremendous progress. "And I like talking to the people in my class and my friends, they're nice, you would approve."
"I'm sure I would." He hummed fondly. "Should I meet them?"
That made you chuckle, until you saw his eyes baring into you and that's when you figured he was serious. "Kit, you know that no one else can see you, right? That's kind of been the whole issue."
"I'm aware." He said, surprisingly his voice didn't loose the fond tone he had taken. "But what if I told you I could be seen?"
You straightened, he took that as his cue to continue. "You have a very special gift, you have a sight that very few people have. Tell me, if you're actually schizophrenic, where are you delusions? You have always taken care of yourself just fine, and I'm the only thing you've ever seen- that's not mental illness, you've just always been an anxious child." He told you, waiting for a moment for clarification that you understood or was absorbing what he was saying before continuing. "I am something you will never read about in those religious studies you busy yourself with, it's not something for you to concern yourself because I have never caused you harm-"
"But what are you?"
"I have never caused you harm." He persisted firmly. "And I will tell you in due time." He took a breath and returned to a calmer demeanour. "I am okay with you being the only human who can see me, at least to my knowledge, I don't want to look for anyone else. However, a physical vessel does tend to come in handy every now and again."
So that was a lot. You stared back at him, eyebrows pinched in confusion as you tried to do the mental gymnastics to put the pins together. "Physical vessel...?"
He sighed, moving off his wooden chair and going to sit on the edge of your twin bed like a parent would, leaving not much space where you were sat. "I would need a body of mine to possess that is of flesh and blood." He explained. "-Dont worry, yours is no good to anyone, I made sure you are safe from possession."
"I'm sorry, possession?!"
"I just said you're safe from it, relax." He hummed. "No, what I need is a vessel made for the purpose of possession, meaning that it would be compatible to me...do you understand what I'm saying here, possum?" When met with a blank stare, he sighed. "We put one in a carrier, right here-" he said, going to tap at your lower stomach through your shirt, you flinched away at the strange feeling. "And we don't keep it there for long, just until it's ready and then we take it out, let it grow and vessel created. It's basically painless."
"Nothing about that sounds painless. You want- you're gonna-" you stuttered, unable to get the right words out or form a cohesive thought. "You want to get me pregnant?"
"Goodness! No!" He assured, looking appalled at thought. "Being pregnant implies that it's your DNA and it is human, your womb is just being used as a temporary gateway, the vessel would be all mine. You must believe me, I would never treat you like that."
You exhaled a laugh, resting you'r head back against the wall. This couldn't be real, surely, therefore you had nothing to loose. Yes, this was just a very wacko dream induced by too many happy pills. "So does it have to be me then or can you find a temporary gateway someplace else?"
"What do you take me for?" He asked plainly. "You're the only person who can see me, I thought I taught you about manners and manners include not disturbing the ecosystem." He exhaled as he stood, going to make some more tea. "You can take some time to think about it, but I promise it's in the best of both our interests that you agree."
It was your turn to sigh, looking up at your white ceiling. "When I was a kid we used to play games and go dancing, sure you wouldn't rather do that?"
"Adult possum, adult games." He answered as he refilled the teacups. "Imagine all the fun things we can do when I have a physical form, perhaps we could go dancing in the Versailles ballroom like you wanted? Get you a nice big glittery ball gown? We could have our biggest tea party yet in the gardens." He looked down at you as he stood over the bed. "It won't hurt."
"So you've said." You watched him, your knees curling back to your chest defensively. That corner was looking pretty good again but you stayed put. He saw his opening and something touched you, a smokey tendril coming from the edge of the bed lightly stroked the now exposed seat of your sweat pants. You immediately threw yourself back into the corner, kicking at whatever touched you.
"See? Did that hurt?" He asked, sitting back on the edge of your bed. "Drink your tea."
"What the fuck?!"
"Language." He growled. "Drink your tea."
You huffed at him, taking the cup for no reason other than to not have another bar of soap in your mouth and he glared at you until you took a sip, he relaxed and took a sip also.
"This isn't going well." He stated. "No matter how grown up you may be, I think you have forgotten that I am the adult and you are the child in all of this, I have millennia on you. You are a child in this universe and you know nothing besides what I've taught you."
"I have learned plenty without you here."
"Yes, the spitting and the swearing is a clear problem you have not learned from me." He grimaced.
You took a sip of your tea with a scoff, between the cup coming up and down to your mouth he had vanished completely. Was that it? You set the teacup down and looked around the room, the clock was still held in the early hours of the night and everything was much too silent for a university dorm building.
It felt like there were hands all over you, clawing and pawing over your clothes until you were forced flat on your face on your bed, a pressure behind your head and on your back to keep you down no matter how you squirmed. "I'm sorry possum, but I need this one thing from you." Kit's voice echoed from behind you as tendrils bound your hands behind your back. "I'll be slow, make it feel good. I know you've done this plenty of times before."
Another smokey tendril pulled the waistband of your pants down as you struggled, really struggled, you had become adept at breaking out of people's grasp from the amount of times they had admitted you but you had never been bound like this before. A tendril poked your flesh awkwardly as you writhed before finding a hole to bury itself into.
You yelped. He was right, it didn't hurt, but you didn't enjoy the squirming appendage in your asshole. "Stop-" Your hips were lifted so another tendril could shove inside your cunt, another working inside your urethra just to make sure he got the correct hole. His tendrils were so cold and oddly fuzzy like buzzing static as they searched your insides.
A sob choked from your throat as you bit your duvet, it was the only thing you were capable of doing in such an awkward position. You felt so full, the tendrils themselves weren't particularly thick but they were so long and with all of them pulling and pushing against your walls made you feel dizzy.
"That's it, cry if you need to." He trilled affectionately whilst a tendril lightly stroked your clit. "Cum if you need to, it'll help."
It wouldn't help, you were sure of it. The sounds you made into your duvet was beyond pathetic whimpering, drooling a dark spot into the fabric as your stomach twitched. It wasn't often Kit had his claws, he was normally very soft and silky when in your company but he had donned them to lightly scratch across your raised stomach, under your shirt and against your skin, in a swirling pattern. He retraced his lines with precision, going over them again and again, muttering something quiet in a language you didn't understand; not that you were too focused on that, you were more concerned about how the tendrils inside you were swelling.
"N-no, get out. Get off! N-agh-" you sobbed into the duvet. The tendrils were barely doubled before you came. Everything felt too full and it wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. You had never been so stretched in your life but the swelling did stop at a point.
There was panting behind you, not in your head, actual physical panting coming from Kit as he worked the swollen appendages as his mumbling turned into hissed chants, his claws digging into skin so hard you were scared he would draw blood. A thick goo coated your insides, it was cold, so cold that it burned and it was pumped in copious amounts until it was more than leaking out of you and the tendrils had dissolved.
You were dropped from where your hips were suspended, leaving you panting and whimpering against your bed as Kit sat back on the edge.
He let you cry for a bit, he supposed that it was a lot but he didn't have much frame of reference, you only came once so it really shouldn't have been that bad. Lightly, he stroked a much softer hand down your back as you would a scared animal until you stopped and was reduced to just sniffs. "I know, I'm sorry." He sighed, his voice back inside your head as he pet you. "You did so very well, you're all done now."
You felt the bed shift as he stood, his hand not leaving your back as he went to pour some more tea. "Stay like that, it's okay. I've got some of that sleepy butterfly tea for when you're ready, then I'll put you back on the right speed." He said gently as he put the newly filled teacup on the side table but in easy reach. "Nod if you're still with me."
You nodded, he gently stroked your hair. "You were perfect for the ritual, which is why I'm confident that it's worked, but I will have to keep an eye on it but at least you'll know nothing hurts next time- and I know what hole needs to be focused on." He cooed. "It won't last long, like I said, this is going to be very quick and comfortable on you and then we can remove it. All you have to do is rest up, eat a little bit more and stop taking those pills, you don't need them. Still with me?"
You nodded again and he removed his hand. "That's it, drink your tea and get some sleep. You have that assignment for tomorrow, right?"
You grumbled at the reminder but you still lifted your head to take the tea. Sleepy butterfly tea was an infamous part of your childhood for tasting like sugar water and knocking you the fuck out after you had a nightmare or had trouble sleeping, funnily enough you always ended up dreaming of butterflies afterwards. You loved butterflies. Kit vanished with the sound of the tick of the clock on the wall and the buzz outside, leaving you nothing but your fancy teacup and the goop dripping down your legs.
You didn't quite understand what he meant by quick but the days that followed were uncomfortable which you mostly wrote down to having all your holes stretched and fucked to their limit. And the dripping, oh god the dripping. You had to wear a tampon and a pad to prevent the car oil type liquid from leaking through your pants when you had a class or work, it was iridescent and black and lessened as it thickened which was disgusting.
It didn't take long before you started filling out, your hips becoming noticeably wider and more weight going to your already soft stomach. It elated him, but when your friends noticed you had to lie about a new pill making you gain weight and hiding it in the baggiest hoodie you owned. This really wasn't how you were expecting to spend your term but at least you didn't feel pregnant, well, you didn't have the TV grade puking and snapping, you just ached.
From how quickly the 'vessle' seemed to appear, you assumed that it would only take a couple weeks until it would be removed. The weeks turned into months, you spent spring break in your hoodie as you made an attempt to participate the activities without being caught out. Whenever you asked Kit about when you would be done, he just chirped and patted your head like a particularly stupid family pet, echoing promises of soon and it'll come when it's ready.
During a lecture, you felt the constant stirring in your gut turn into physical pain. It thrummed deeply inside your womb, spreading out into your hips and your back, somehow also in your thighs- a spreading cramp throughout your lower body. Was that it? You turned your focus from your professor to the corner where Kit liked to observe you from, meeting those glowing eyes as he stared from the shadows. He tilted his head. You left the lecture early.
He took you back to your dorm, the halls unusually empty on the way there, and waited until the door closed- too polite to have you talk to thin air when you had done so well. "I told you it wouldn't be that long." He said, shrinking his form down to something softer.
You grumbled, heaving yourself to sit on your way too low of a bed. He was correct, in some sense, five months was short for how big you were but it wasn't short enough. Your stomach was deformed and large, almost purple from the blood rushing to it from the quick stretch and way too big for a normal human baby- but then you had to remind yourself that this wasn't a normal human baby, perhaps not human at all. Kit was a lover of the abstract. "Yeah, right. What's the ritual on getting this thing out?"
His eyes narrowed inquisitively. "Ritual?"
"Well, yeah, you did a ritual to put it in, is there not one to take it out?" You asked, not sure if you were confused or concerned by his question. A bit of both was healthy. "You said you were going to remove it."
He stared at you for a while, long enough for you to have another cramp work it's way through you. "Possum, I can help you with the pain but the goal of this was to have a vessel of flesh and blood, the easiest way is for you to give birth to it." He explained gently. "Or I could cut it from you."
Your eyes widened. Maybe you should've checked for sure how everything was going to work, although that wouldn't have exactly stopped him from forcing himself inside you in the first place, it would've been nice to know. "I can't-"
"Cutting then? If you insist."
"No-!" You exhaled deeply, hand covering your stomach- not that it was doing much- with another cramp. Contraction? It doesn't matter.
"Well then you can, can't you? And you're going to have to, I'm just offering you an alternative." He said as he came to sit on the bed with you with a coo, his paw stroking your hair. "That's it, Possum, nice slow breaths. Nice and calm." Your breathing pinched as his other paw lightly touched your stomach through your hoodie. "You're going to be like this for a couple of hours, tops, these things go oh so very quickly." He explained. "So best get comfortable so when it's time for you to push, you'll be alright."
With that, he got up and rearranged your bed, stealing the pillows from your roommate's bed as well and putting them on yours so you had all the soft things to lean against before going to make some tea. Reluctantly, you went to lie down into the nest he had made for you, it wasn't much but it was good and having support for your stomach felt great.
He returned with the tea and set it down beside you on the table, a deep red in the white china, a colour you were unfamiliar with from him. "Fly Agaric and garnet." He explained. "It'll help move things along, I put a little bit of sugar in there too, I hope you don't mind."
You hummed in acknowledgement, taking a sip of the tea. Bitter and earthy, the sugar did help a little but you otherwise were not a fan.
He didn't pour himself a cup, instead he sat on the edge of your bed and unzipped your hoodie, making you almost spill your tea. "Would you rather me take off your clothes when you're trying to work a head out?" He asked, deadly serious. You sighed and put your cup down and let him remove your hoodie, along with the baggy shirt you were wearing under it for extra concealment. Your stomach was bared and mottled, you hoped it would go back to normal once this was over, your tits too- for someone who was assured you weren't pregnant the entire time, your body behaved as such.
Your pants were next, guiding your hips up carefully to pull off your stretchy leggings and underwear all at once so you didn't have to do it again, he chirped in approval at the sight of the same oil spill sludge he filled you with before coating the inside of your underwear as he set you down to take it off the rest of the way down your legs. "And your waters have already broken, such a good possum, not a fuss from you." He cooed as he discarded the remainder of your clothes, now naked, labouring and apparently dripping that goo again. You were quaking at the thought of the laundry, again. "Finish your tea."
You didn't argue with him, reaching back for your tea- still in the same perfect temperature you left it in- and sipping on it as he stroked the outside of your knee. You assumed that the tea was going to help with the pain, like he said, but all it did was made the pains come quicker and somehow harder, like instead of someone squeezing at your abdomen they put your hips in a hydrolic and kept tightening it. Any time you turned to bury your face into the nest or to bite a pillow during a bad one, Kit scolded you because how were you supposed to breathe if you had your face in a pillow? So you were forced to remain as you were, slightly sat up on your back as you panted through the worst of it whilst Kit kept forcing the tea down your throat to the point you felt a little dizzy. No pain relief came from it though.
His eyes were fixated on you, never wavering once even if he moved from the end of your bed to sit beside you or vice versa. He was waiting, and the longer it was taking, the shorter grew his patience with you. His paw returned to your stomach with a light press. "Surely it must be time." He grumbled. "Do you normally take this long?"
"Normally?"
He huffed, a shadowy, but slick, tendril poking it's way into your cunt to feel around, regardless that you were busy with a contraction. He instantly relaxed when the tendril hit something. "You're nice and open, already nice and low. Did you not feel that?"
"It just hurts." You complained, sounding almost like a child in your pathetic dizziness. You felt drunk, but not really. Your head was swimming from something in the tea, your brain only focusing on the pain and nothing but the pain. You shifted to try to get into a better position but he stopped you, grabbing your hips to pull you back.
"Oh no you don't- you're going to have to stay like this." He instructed, guiding your legs to bend up and letting you choose if you wanted to keep them up or put them to the side, you did an awkward mix of both that did the job of opening you up.
He patted your stomach gently like you were a dog as you whined, closing your eyes in dread. "Now, with the next one, I'm gonna need you to start pushing and then this will be over. No more." He cooed. "I'll be right here, nothing will happen, I have my degree from Spangle's medical school, remember?"
Spangle was the name of a stuffed dog you had when you were a child, he got his degree during a game of make pretend. It didn't fill you with hope.
Even with that thought in mind, you started pushing, you didn't have much of a choice. It felt wrong, so wrong, and it hurt more than the contractions on their own but stopping seemed to hurt more when you tried. Your breaths turned to keening pants, hands screwed into your sheets as more of the oil burbled out of your slit.
"It hurts-! It- hn- hng-" You could feel it, you could feel everything, you just couldn't think. This was awful. You felt the vessel pressing up against your entrance after a long stint if pushing, your cunt slowly being spread open. It was uncomfortable, the biggest thing that you've ever had stretch you par his full tendrils. "Oh god, I'm crowning-"
"No, it's just the hooves." Kit said, moving to hold the leg that you kept up flat against your stomach to make more room in your hips.
"What?" You panicked, trying to sit up despite the onslaught of constant contractions to try to look over your belly to see if you did, in fact, have hooves sticking out of you, only to be pushed back once again.
"Don't worry, I can see a little nose already, you'll be crowning soon enough." He assured, a full length mirror magically appearing at the foot of the bed. He was right, he could see a little black nose just barely visible behind where two, similarly black legs covered in that irradessant goop and topped with hooves were sticking out. You felt like you were going to scream, you were pushing out a wild animal.
You watched in horror as the nose slowly edged it's way out of your cunt, the more of the muzzle and the legs on either side that came out starting to properly stretch. It didn't stop coming as you pushed, the head getting wider and your skin getting painfully tighter around the protruding muzzle. A never ending cramp made your back and stomach tense and forced you to keep going, there was no stopping, no breaks, you couldn't even get enough air to make a noise from the panting. Your head was hardwired to only take a breath, push, take another breath and push whilst Kit held you down.
The sight of your pussy being stretched in the mirror made you want to vomit. The maw was out and you had no reprieve, the skull only getting wider as it dove down to come out. It hurt in a new way, you felt like something was cutting into you from the inside and you stopped pushing in turn for panting out and trying to squirm away from it. "It hurts-!"
"It's going to hurt, you're almost crowning." Kit calmly reminded you as he used a few tendrils to keep you firmly in place. "Stop moving, you're going to hurt yourself and the vessel."
You managed a whine between the panting, still making a valiant attempt to move your hips. "Something is wrong, it's cutting me."
"Oh, that's just the horns."
"The horns?!"
"Yes, goats have horns, I believe." He stated simply.
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