Hiiiii, so I guess imma make a pinned post? Mainly because I want to say:
This is not a blog for minors! 🔞 If you follow or interact with it without your age in your bio/pinned post, you will be blocked.
I know I mainly just repost at this point (hopefully one day I’ll be brave enough to post my own things) but many thanks to all of you creating wonderful content, you are appreciated so much!!
Anyways, now for a little bit about me! I’m a woman in my early thirties, vaguely asexual, but pansexual /mainly into fellow queers for the rare times attraction happens.
Interest list:
Eggpreg / oviposition
Birth / laying
Various other forms of pregnancy
Stretching / size play
Monsterfucking
Edging
A lil bit of BDSM
The wonders of being a service top ☺️☺️
Big nopes:
Incest
Underage
Death/gore
Bursting
Anyways, asks are currently open, would love to hear from y’all!
You know how theres long distance toys where a partner can be on the other side of the world but still control it? like those lovense vibes? (inspired by @bredpun's egg toy posts)
I wish there was a toy that was that for eggs and/or cum 😩. Logistically yeah I know this would be a nightmare and the person using the toy would have to load the eggs into the ovipositor and would be limited by the number you owned but just imagine if it was possible
----
You’re sitting at your desk, working from home, trying to focus on a spreadsheet while your mind is miles away, tethered to your partner’s office across the city. They know you’ve been useless all morning—they know you can’t even think straight when you're empty, that your brain only starts to click into gear once you're properly filled up. The toy is a familiar weight deep inside you. Suddenly, the first pulse hits, a deep thrum that makes your breath catch as you squirm in your chair.
Thump.
The first egg materializes, a slick, heavy displacement. It’s a sudden, needy pressure that makes you moan, your hips bucking against the seat. You can almost see them leaning back in their office chair, eyes dark as they hover their thumb over the "Generate" button, finally giving you the “fullness” you've been aching for.
Thump. Thump.
Two more forced in, and you’re already squirming from the pressure. You’ve been craving this all morning—this heavy, rounded fullness. You reach down, your hand trembling as you cup your lower belly. It’s already starting to firm up, a slight, hard curve pushing against your palm.
Thump-thump-thump.
Your partner slides the delivery to "Rapid." You gasp, your head falling back as the infinite supply floods you. The toy whirs, a high-pitched purr vibrating against your cervix, summoning eggs faster than you can adjust. You’re stretching. You’re growing. Every new arrival is a blunt, pleasurable intrusion, making your internal walls expand until you’re moaning from the sheer volume.
The fabric of your leggings goes sheer as your stomach distends into a heavy, taut lumpy dome. You watch in a daze as your midsection swells, your navel shallowing out until it’s just a memory. You’re huge, your stomach shelfing over your lap, packed so full that the eggs bump against each other internally—a sensation that sends jolts through your spine.
"More," you whisper, your voice thick. "Please, just fill me up. Make me bigger."
As if they heard you, the toy’s vibration kicks. It’s the "Settle and Pack" protocol, vibrating the massive weight to push the eggs together, clearing just enough room for the next wave. Your stomach jumps and ripples, a visible proof of their remote control. You are in ecstasy
The spreadsheet is a blurred memory. You are visibly distended, a heavy, hard dome pressing against your shirt, packed so tight you can only take shallow breaths. You’re addicted to this overwhelming fullness.
Suddenly, your phone flashes. It’s a video call. You fumble to answer, fingers clumsy. Your partner’s face fills the screen, a playful smirk on their lips as they look down at where your shirt is straining against the crowded clutch. They know exactly how much better you feel now that you’re properly occupied. On the screen, you see their thumb hover, then slide the toggle from Generate to Infuse.
You gasp as the toy shifts to a high-pitched whir. A new sensation hits—a hot, heavy rush. It’s a thick, pressurized flood of fluid, filling every tiny space between the eggs. It feels like pouring concrete into a jar of marbles. The pressure doubles instantly. Your stomach doesn't just grow; it tightens until it feels like a drum skin, your belly letting out an angry, muffled gurgle from the sheer mass.
On the video call, your partner watches your expression fracture.
“Touch yourself for me,” they command, their voice rough. “Show me how big I made you.”
You cave, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure as you rub your huge, vibrating gut for the camera.
owner cleaning while he has his pup sitting on the bed,, owner tells pup if he can sit on a toy (thats probably too big) the whole time he'll get a treat,, then owner just cleans with his pup whining in the background
bonus points if owner just gives up cleaning halfway through and fucks his pup
targaryen "blood of the dragon" being a little more literal.
every so often, a targaryen will become spontaneously pregnant with a dragon egg, or even a clutch if the gods be willing. when the blood of valyeria was still pure, it could be expected to happen to a targaryen every few years. aegon the conqueror himself was known to have laid a few, king jaeherys and alysanne many along with their large number of children. however, as the bloodline diluted by outmarriage and the dragons died out, less and less instances of this have occurred.
the human-born eggs have never hatched into dragons. but still, it is seen as a fortuitous sign for the house when a targaryen swells with an egg, more auspicious still when with a clutch. they are paraded around in court as a sign of their power, sometimes seen as a truer targaryen and/or heir than those ahead of them in the line of succession. daemon blackfyre used his two egg pregnancies to bolster his claim to the throne over daeron the good, whom had none.
carrying an egg is a cumbersome, unpleasant affair, made all the more deadly and terrible by the laying process. the eggs are heavy as stone and hot, like a fire beats inside them. the ridged scales uncomfortable and unyielding as they are pushed out. the maesters have little experience in assisting targaryens in this matter, as this is the blood magic of old valyria. some have died in the process. yet, still, some targaryens desire to carry, and seek information from the dragonkeepers and old texts to find out how to induce them. and after the dance and death of the last dragon, this became all the more relevant in hopes they may learn to hatch them.
but it was thought that the blood may have become too thin. viserys ii married outside of the blood of old valyria. as had daeron ii and all of his sons. scarcely any eggs have been laid since the time of dragons at all.
that is, until aerion brightflame comes of age and carries an egg with the smug, stubborn pride of a dragon. and then another. and then a clutch. perhaps he has good reason to believe he is a dragon, when he looks upon his small hoard of eggs. if only he can learn how to make the dragons within awake...
the concept of a wetness check is so 🥵🥺😳 like, I'm sorry, you want me to pull my skirt up/my pants down juuuust enough for you to tuck one finger into my pussy and feel how slick I am inside? how tight my walls grip your finger? tease me with a couple too-light strokes and then pull out? wipe your finger on my thigh? okay 💦
"Oh, c'mon, I cannot be the first Layer to try this."
"That egg was meant to be delivered to the Council this morning. What am I supposed to tell them? Really, this is incredibly embarr—"
"We filmed it," you interrupted. You smirked when that shut Byles up, his jaw closing with an audible click.
"You… You did what?"
Yeah, you definitely had his attention now. His aggravation waned even as his cock visibly began to harden in his pants. You mentally congratulated yourself on making the suggestion to Cecelia, even as you gave in to the urge to drop to your knees. It wasn't as easy as it usually was, given the size of your belly. He watched you hungrily as you undid his fly.
"I figured it'd be educational," you said absently as you nuzzled against his shaft, breathing in his scent. "Since all the Watchers have to learn from are a bunch of really old diaries."
"How generous of you," Byles said, doing a poor job of keeping his voice even. "It's got nothing to do with you wanting to watch it on loop, hmmm?"
The only reason you didn't stick your tongue out at him was because you were licking the head of his cock. You knew the two of you were in the middle of an argument, but it was hard to care when all you wanted was to feel him shooting down your throat. Was it worth letting him think he'd won this round if it meant getting him to fuck your face?
Byles, damn him to hell, knew exactly what you wanted and was determined to keep it from you. He pulled your head back slowly, keeping his straining cock mere inches away from your lips as he examined your expression.
"Pretty little whore," he murmured. "Do you think giving the Council that video will get you out of trouble?"
His warm tone made your whole body tingle. A little whimper escaped you, and you strained forward to take his cock back in your mouth, but he held firm. You wanted to reach out for him, but you needed to use your arms for balance to keep from toppling over from the weight your massive tummy.
Still, you nodded, hoping maybe if you showed him you could be good then he'd give you what you want.
"You're probably right," he said, voice still low. "They'll be too busy jerking their cocks to care about where the egg went. But I won't forget, dearest."
There was no missing the unspoken threat in his voice. Just the thought of how he might punish you made you embarrassingly wet; tears were burning in your eyes with how badly you wanted to suck his cock, how much you needed him to cum down your throat.
And Byles could be a bastard, there was no doubt about it. He proved that by releasing your hair and taking your arms in a firm grip, helping you to your feet. You pouted at him, rallying your scattered brain cells to try pleading your case, when he dragged you over to the couch. Ignoring your little gasp of surprise, he maneuvered you so your head hung over the arm of the couch, forcing your back to arch and thrusting your swollen, leaking tits into the air.
Of course, you mused, as he roughly forced his cock between your lips, there were some benefits to having a bastard fucking your mouth.
Your eyes fluttered closed as he groped your tits, his balls bumping into your face as he thrust wildly.
gluk-gluk-gluk
Heavenly. Music to your ears. Your cries of ecstasy were muffled by his cock, adding to the cacophony of Byles' grunts above you. He was getting close already, going by the way his grip tightened on your tits, causing milk to spurt from your nipples and all over your skin. A muffled curse, and Byles leaned forward, placing one knee on the couch beside your head and hungrily lapping up the droplets of milk from your skin. The sudden motion forced him even deeper down your throat, threatening to choke you and making your eyes roll back in your head.
If this was his idea of punishment, you couldn't wait to piss him off again. That was the last thing that went through your mind before you came with a hot, wet rush.
A few days passed without incident. More creatures fucked you—this time without laying more eggs, thank goodness—and you came so much that the time passed in a pleasurable haze.
Byles had indeed shared the footage of you and Cecelia and the egg, and had returned to your apartment later that day looking distinctly rumpled. And since he hadn't mentioned the Council, you'd figured that would be the end of it. You'd lay both eggs—and fuck, if the thought of birthing two eggs didn't make your cunt wet—and everything would return to normal.
As it turned out, you'd forgotten one, very important, detail.
Your Watcher was a mean son of a bitch. And he was a man of his word.
It was a few hours after sunset when you felt the first contraction. A low groan escaped you as you pressed your hand to your belly and slowly got to your feet.
Shit, he said he'd be here.
The front door opened, almost as though your thought had summoned him.
"Shelby! Has it started yet?"
"Not… not yet," you called back shakily. You wobbled out of your room toward the bathroom; it was a lot less messy that way.
"Good." Byles came striding down the hallway, holding something in his hand. You squinted at it, but there wasn't time to get a look as Byles ushered you back to your bedroom.
"No, c'mon, I just changed these sheets."
"Too bad."
Byles let go of your arm and handed you a bit of fabric, what looked like a pair of panties. You gave him a puzzled look; the contractions were a few minutes apart, so you had enough sense left to wonder if Byles was starting to go senile. Which would be a shame, 'cause he was still super hot.
"Okaaaaay…" You dangled it between your fingertips. "What am I supposed to do with these?"
"Put them on."
You laughed through another contraction, making your tummy jiggle. Only Byles wasn't laughing; he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.
"Oh, come on. You can't be serious."
Only, he absolutely was. His stern expression didn't waver as you wobbled around, pulling the panties on. The fabric was incredibly stretchy, easily accommodating your tummy and ass, and fitting snugly around your curves. You ran your hands over the material, getting a feel for it.
"Uh, Byles, these are great—" Not really, but you weren't above telling him what you thought he wanted to hear. "—but I'm gonna be pushing out a couple eggs soon—"
"This is your punishment," he interrupted. "Or did you think I'd forgotten?"
"Was kinda hoping you had," you mumbled. Although, his punishment last time hadn't been that bad, right?
You didn't have time to think on it too hard. Another contraction rippled through you, more intense than the one before. A soft grunt escaped you, and you staggered into Byles to keep from toppling over. There was something weird about the panties he'd given you, something hard at the crotch, but you didn't have time to investigate.
"Here, let me get you to the bed," he said, voice solicitous. His hands were gentle as he helped support your weight, and he made sure you were comfortable, even fluffing up your pillows, before resting his hand on your tummy. The touch made you shiver in anticipation. Would he fuck your mouth while you birthed the eggs? Because that would be—
Byles' hand moved down from your belly to your cunt. You moaned as his fingers brushed over your folds.
"I had these specially crafted for you, you know," he said lightly. "This ring—" His fingers traced around the hole in your panties. "—will keep the eggs exactly where they are until I'm sure you've learned your lesson."
"My-my lesson?" you stammered. "But I-I-I thought—"
"Yes? Tell me what you thought."
You stuttered and stammered, the words tripping over each passed your lips. But they weren't making sense, your brain muddled with pleasure and pain. His brown eyes were fixed on you intently, making you tremble under the weight of it.
"Please… please…"
It was the only word you knew, and it tripped continuously off your tongue. The contractions were coming on more quickly now, closer together, and you helplessly began to push. It felt so good, a blissful kind of agony that made you moan loudly.
Excruciating…
Ecstasy…
You bore down, trying to expel the egg from your body. It slipped down your channel, working its way down to stretch out your cunt. Loud cries slipped passed your lips, growing louder and louder until…
… its progress stopped.
"W-wha's happ'ning? Please, pl-ease, I need—"
"Yes, dearest, yes, I know. I know what you need." His hand, still between your legs, came up to cup the base of the egg, his thumb flickering over your clit so gently that you almost couldn't tell if he was actually touching you or if it was your imagination. "And I'll let you have it once I'm sure you've learned your lesson."
"I h've," you slurred. "I wo-won't do it a-again, I promise."
Byles clucked his tongue and shook his head; your eyes were full of desperate tears, but you could swear you saw amusement in his expression. He tutted sadly, condescension dripping from his voice and sending an answering rush of wetness between your legs.
"No, that really isn't the lesson I'm trying to teach you, Shelby. Not to worry, though. I'm sure it will come to you in a few hours."
A few hours?
There wasn't time to argue or to beg. Byles got to his feet, his massive boner visible as he buttoned up his jacket. But rather than doing anything with his straining cock—put it in your mouth or something—he just walked passed. You whined plaintively, so hungry for more, just… fuck…
The contractions were worsening. You kept pushing, but the egg…
It didn't budge.
Your body strained for the release that the damnable panties kept you from reaching. Just a little bit further, if the egg could slip another millimeter further…
Byles returned a moment later, carrying a little tripod of his own. He was humming to himself as he set it as the end of your bed, adjusting it carefully. You were panting for breath as the contractions wracked through you; pain splintered beneath your skin, even as the most indescribable pleasure yawned at your feet.
If you could just… reach it…
A scream of frustration was building up in your throat; Byles distracted you by pulling up a chair alongside the camera.
"Wha… the fuck are you… are you doing?" you managed between gasps of air. Why aren't you sticking your cock in my mouth? you wanted to demand, but didn't have enough breath to get out.
"Well, Shelby, it seems you've forgotten something rather important about my role as your Watcher," he said, voice edged with steel. "I watch you, I smell your desperation. I listen to you beg. That is my right, my responsibility. And when you filmed yourself fucking that egg without me being present, you robbed me of that."
In the state you were in, you only caught about half of that. The gist, as far as you could tell, was that he'd have liked to watch your little adventure with the egg live.
Fucking asshole could've just said so.
But since there was no way you could tell him that—the last thing you wanted was for him to keep you in these fucking panties the whole night—you focused on breathing through your next contraction.
And with every contraction, the pain built. It kept rising, higher and higher, keeping you on the excruciating edge of pleasure without tipping you over. You were moaning almost constantly now, rough grunts and whorish cries spilling passed your lips without restraint.
If you could just… tip over the edge of this pain into the ecstasy you knew awaited you…
Byles rose to his feet an interminable time later. He was, you noted with a distant measure of satisfaction, sporting an uncomfortably large erection behind the fly of his trousers. If he had any measure of fucking conscience, he'd fuck your mouth with it; it wouldn't do anything to ease your discomfort, but it would give you something else to focus on.
But instead, he lay down beside you on the bed, his lips level with one of your swollen, leaking nipples.
"So pretty," he murmured, ghosting his fingertips over it. Even that light touch made you thrash. "If you'd been good, this all could have gone so much differently. I could have invited Weslie, and we'd each be sucking on one of these fat tits while you laid your eggs."
pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
He delivered a stinging slap to your nipple without warning. You yelped, hips bucking as the contact sent a zing of pleasure straight to your neglected clit.
"Do be quiet, Shelby. Or else I'll have to gag you. And not with my cock, either," he added. "Now, I'll take the panties off, but not before I'm ready."
And just when the hell would that be?
Thankfully, you didn't have the breath to give voice to the question. Byles tapped his mouth with his fingertips and made a considering sound.
"I think… five orgasms should do it."
You couldn't stop the noise that escaped you then, too indignant for it to be mistaken for anything else but a squawk of protest. Byles delivered another smack to your tit, hard enough to be felt through the contractions and making droplets of milk leak from your nipple.
It still wasn't enough to send you over the edge, though.
"Now it's eight. Would you like to work your way up to double digits?"
You had to grind your teeth to keep from whimpering. He nodded his approval as he watched you for a moment longer.
"Cum whenever you're ready, Shelby."
Whenever you were ready? Like it was easy?
You were trying really hard not to think about how wet this whole situation made you. And, thankfully, the contractions were doing a stellar job of distracting you. Your whole body was tightening, straining desperately for the orgasm you could taste on the tip of your tongue and yet couldn't quite bite into. The world had narrowed down to what was between your legs, your clit throbbing and neglected, your cunt stretched but nowhere near enough.
"C-c-can I… C-can I…?" Tears were starting to form on your eyelashes.
"Yes, dear? What would you like?"
"Tou… touch…"
"Touch what? Your cunt?" He actually chortled. "Absolutely not. I don't think you could even reach it around that big belly. However," he added when you started to cry in earnest, "I'm not completely unreasonable."
That was news to you.
"You may play with your tits. But when I tell you to stop, you stop. If you don't, I'll tie your arms and legs to the bedposts. Do I make myself clear?"
yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes
"Less talking, please."
Your mouth shut with a snap, but you didn't even care that Byles was being an ass. With a herculean effort, you lifted your hands and clumsily kneaded at your tits. Milk immediately began to dribble from your nipples, easing the terrible ache that had been building up.
That was all it took.
A hoarse sound tore itself free from your throat as you came. There were so many conflicting sensations; the contractions worked to expel the egg while your orgasm made your cunt suckle it back into your body. Your eyes rolled back in your head.
"Ngh… uh uh uh…"
Fingers spasming on your nipples, droplets of milk trickling down your skin, it was all so good. If you could keep going like this, you'd hit eight orgasms in no time…
The thought had no sooner crossed your mind before Byles was pulling your hands away from your tits.
"Yes, that was lovely, Shelby, beautiful…"
His words were falling on deaf ears. The storm of want was building up into a hurricane, you were babbling and incoherent, thrashing and struggling to force another orgasm as though you hadn't cum just a moment ago.
Sounds were spilling passed your lips. You didn't know if you were begging Byles, or cursing him. The world had dissolved into excruciating pleasure, release from the exquisite hell just beyond your grasp.
Distantly, you were aware of a tingling sensation at your throat.
There wasn't time to process what was happening. Your lips were being forced open, a monstrous, ridged cock was sliding along your tongue to the back of your throat…
Bliss.
This was what you were born for.
You slurped and suckled at the cock fucking your mouth as time just… slipped away…
Reality finally began to creep in. An eternity of pleasure and pain had passed, leaving you in a dreamy, exhausted haze. Your skin was slick with sweat, milk, and Byles' cum, the room thick with the smell of sex. The contractions were almost continuous, wracking your body in an unimaginable torment you never wanted to end. By now, your tummy had swelled even bigger with all the cum you'd gulped down while you'd laboured.
It had been hell.
It had been paradise.
There'd been moments where it'd all been too much. Every sensation had dug its claws into you, dragging you into unconsciousness for what felt like eons before shoving you back into an agonising wakefulness. And all the while, your body had strained and contracted, struggling to birth the eggs passed the hateful panties Byles had made you wear.
You wanted to die.
You wanted to live like this forever.
You barely reacted when a shaky hand reached out to caress your face. Byles was speaking, but you couldn't make out his words. His tone was warm, though… pleased. With a massive effort, you managed to force your eyes open to find him beaming down at you.
"That was so good, Shelby, you did so well," he murmured.
When had he undone his shirt? you wondered. That you'd missed it had a feeling of utter disconsolation washing over you. Tears trickled down your cheeks. You were utterly exhausted, the contractions compelling you to push, but your body almost too tired to comply. Every push was weak and agonisingly slow, the first egg suspended in limbo and peeking out of your cunt. Byles was cooing at you from the end of the bed, alternating between rubbing your tummy and circling your clit.
"… going to take these off you, now, Shelby," he murmured.
You had no idea what the hell he was talking about. There was the sound of movement, Byles moving at the edge of the bed. He'd been keeping you hydrated throughout this whole ordeal. Now, his fingertips moved around the edge of your waist, slowly pulling the panties down.
The relief was immediate.
Pushing… pushing…
A hoarse cry slipped free as you automatically began to push. The feeling of the egg finally inching down between your swollen, sopping folds was like nothing you'd ever experienced, a bliss so profound that it was almost holy. Your cunt stretched to accommodate its enormous girth, making you scream and thrash as you came. From very far away, you could hear Byles talking to you, but nothing made sense.
"I know you're tired, Shelby," he murmured. "And you've been so good, took your punishment so well. And you've earned a reward."
Damn him to hell. He knew you too well The prospect of a reward made your ears prick up, and you sluggishly turned your head to meet his knowing gaze.
"Wh's the… wh's the r'ward?"
He smirked.
"As soon as you've laid these eggs and rested, Weslie and I are both going to fuck you. We'll take a turn in each of your holes, maybe even do a summoning ritual to make sure no part of you is empty. How does that sound, hmm?"
It sounded fucking amazing. Despite everything else, you felt a sharp throb of desire move through you, and you couldn't help arching your hips. Byles made a hungry sound in the back of his throat.
"Yes, I thought you'd like that. Now, be a good little slut for me, and push these eggs out."
And, fuck, what else could you do but obey?
You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes shut. Then, you pushed as hard as you could, grunting and gasping and moaning, until the egg had stretched you out around its widest point. A shaky breath in, a shaky breath out, just to savour the feeling.
"Keep going, that's it, just keep going…"
All it took was one… last… push.
The sensation of the first egg finally slipping free from your cunt was indescribable. Ecstasy in its purest form engulfed you, making the world around you turn white. You came with a hot, wet gush.
Your last coherent thought before the next contraction began was that you hoped Byles kept those panties.
people are so weird about cnc and I always just want to look them in the eyes and say “you are getting mad at people for playing pretend. you are getting mad at people for saying ‘raaar! I’m gonna getcha!’ you are not a serious person.”
so much ink and tears have been spilled theorizing that rape kink is about trauma and social anxieties and power fantasies and sure maybe. but I think we’re just mammals who like pretend danger in our play just like every other mammal ever. because we have evolved to find that fun. and the only difference between play-wrestling in bed and pulling out the fuzzy handcuffs is commitment to the bit
i know it’s too much, sweetheart. that’s why i’m holding your hips still, so you don’t run from what you begged for.
you just came. hard. your first orgasm leaving you shaking, gasping for air. and now my fingers are still inside you. still moving. pushing you toward a second one that you’re not sure your body can handle.
you trying to squirm away. hips twisting. trying to escape. but my grip is firm. hands on your hips. keeping you exactly where i want you. “where do you think you’re going, baby?”
“it’s too much, i can’t—” your voice breaking. tears already forming. the sensitivity making every curl of my fingers feel electric. overwhelming.
“aww, poor baby. it’s too much?” mocking gently. pumping my fingers. curling them deep. “then why is your pussy taking my fingers so well? why are you so wet, sweetheart?”
you whimpering. no answer. because i’m right. your body is responding even though you’re protesting. “if i pulled my fingers out right now, you’d beg for them back, wouldn’t you?”
pulling them almost all the way out. you gasping. hips chasing my hand without thinking. “see? knew it.” sliding them back in. three fingers. filling you. “such a desperate thing.”
my other hand moving to your breast. pinching your nipple. rolling it between my fingers. you crying out. “please, i just came—” “i know you did, baby. i was there. and now you’re going to cum again.”
thumb finding your clit. rubbing circles. fingers pumping inside you. other hand playing with your nipples. alternating between them. pinching. tugging gently.
“you said you couldn’t cum more than once, remember?” curling my fingers. hitting that spot. “but look at you now. already getting close again. were you lying to me, baby? or are you just that easy?”
you sobbing. shaking your head. “i’m not close—” “oh, you’re not?” stopping all movement. fingers still inside but not moving. hand leaving your breast. “then i guess i’ll stop.”
you whimpering. hips trying to move. to get friction. “that’s what i thought.” starting again. pumping my fingers. rubbing your clit. “poor baby can’t make up her mind. is it too much or do you need more?”
“both… it’s both…” you crying. overstimulated. “aww, that’s so hard for you, isn’t it?” condescending. affectionate yet mocking. “your body wants to cum so bad but it’s all so sensitive. must be so confusing for you, sweetheart.”
bringing my wet fingers from your pussy to your mouth. “open.” you obeying. taking my fingers in. sucking them clean. tasting yourself. “good girl. taste how wet you are. taste how much your body wants this even though you’re crying about it.”
sliding my fingers back inside you. three again. filling you completely. other hand back to your nipples. pinching harder this time. you moaning around my fingers still in your mouth. “look at you. taking my fingers in both holes. such a good little slut for me.”
pulling my fingers from your mouth. using that hand to hold your hip again. keeping you still. the other hand alternating between fucking you and rubbing your clit. you getting closer. building faster than you thought possible.
“please… please i’m so close…” “already? but i thought you couldn’t cum again?” teasing. mocking gently. “i thought it was too much for you, baby.”
curling my fingers. hitting that spot over and over. thumb pressing hard on your clit. “go ahead then. prove yourself wrong. cum for me like the desperate little thing you are.”
you breaking. cumming hard around my fingers. clenching. moaning loudly. crying. me not stopping. keeping the same pace. pushing you right through it. “that’s two. let’s go for three.”
“no! i can’t, not again—” you sobbing now. completely oversensitive. trying desperately to close your legs. to escape. me forcing them open. “you can. and you will.”
both hands on you now. one fucking you relentlessly. fingers pumping fast. curling. the other hand pinching your nipple hard. you crying out. overwhelmed. “poor baby. so sensitive but still so wet for me. your body just doesn’t know when to quit, does it?”
“please, it hurts—” “it doesn’t hurt, sweetheart. you’d use your safeword if it hurt. this is just overstimulating. there’s a difference.” pressing harder on your clit. “and you’re going to take it.”
bringing my hand from your breast to your mouth again. “suck.” you opening. taking my fingers. me fucking your mouth with them while my other hand fucks your pussy. “there you go. keep that mouth busy so you stop whining.”
pumping my fingers faster inside you. rougher now. your third orgasm building impossibly fast. the overstimulation making everything heightened. pulling my fingers from your mouth so you can breathe. so you can moan properly.
“look at you. crying and shaking and still taking my fingers so perfectly. if i told you to beg for more right now, you would, wouldn’t you?”
you shaking your head. “liar.” curling my fingers hard. you gasping. “your pussy is literally dripping on my hand, baby. you’re clenching so tight. you’re about to cum a third time and you still want to pretend you don’t want this?”
pinching your nipple again. hard. the pain mixing with pleasure. you moaning. getting so close. “please… please i need—” “need what? need to cum again? the third time you said was impossible?”
“yes! please let me cum!” you begging now. completely broken down. “aww, there it is. there’s my honest baby.” pumping faster. rubbing your clit frantically. “go ahead, angel. cum for me. show me what a desperate mess you are.”
you tipping over again. cumming so hard you’re almost screaming. shaking. clenching rhythmically. completely wrecked. me finally slowing. gentling. carefully pulling my fingers out.
you collapsing. sobbing. exhausted. me immediately switching. pulling you into my arms. tone completely different now. soft. loving. “shh, sweetheart. you’re okay. you did so well. so so well.”
holding you close. stroking your hair. your back. “you were perfect, baby. absolutely perfect. took everything i gave you.” kissing your forehead. your cheeks. wiping your tears. “such a good girl for me.”
you curling into me. “that was intense…” “i know, baby. but you did it. three times. you were so beautiful and good for me .” continuing to soothe you. praise you. “i’m so proud of you, sweetheart. so proud.”
you finally catching your breath. looking up at me. cheeks read, body overstimulated and exhausted. “i didn’t think i could get to 3…” “but you did, baby. your body is amazing. and you trusted me to push you. that means everything.”
hi but like? cockwarming an ovipositor? especially if they have super big eggs. Just sitting on them, slowly, ever so gently rolling your hips with it sunk inside, kissing all the absolutely deepest parts of you. The almost frustratingly slow slide of an incredibly big egg, and at points you can't think as it stretches you but you can't get off even if you wanted to, trapped until it finally, finally settles so deep and hot and heavy inside... and by the time you can think clearly enough to climb off? Well, the next one is already stretching you open... hours and hours, until your legs are near enough numb, leaning back against your lover's chest as they gently stroke the heavy, hot bulge that used to be your belly.
Something so beautiful about the image of a creature beneath me, bound and unable to move, squirming and writhing against the tight constraints and constantly making otherworldly sounds of pleasure. In the throes of heat, half delirious and overstimulated, practically whining beneath me, but whether it's for me to stop or continue it can't even decide.
It's laid more eggs tonight than it ever has before; it was in fact unaware that it's body could keep producing them like this. Its greedy mate was pushing both of their bodies to the limit, wringing more pleasure out of it than it thought possible, extending its breeding frenzy magnitudes longer than any mate of its own species would.
I almost feel like I'm in heat myself, unable to stop. My belly has been packed full for a while now, my belly button popped long ago; the entire egg filled bulge was sensitive, and I couldn't get enough of rubbing and pushing it, feeling the eggs move around and settle.
I should be more responsible than this, but I reason with myself that I've seen larger pregnancies, so I'm probably safe. Nevermind that the eggs will have some growing to do; but that image only encourages me, imagining being so big that I'm completely pinned and helpless before the mass, being more belly than person, unable to see beyond or reach around the swell. And how long the labor would have to take, pushing out egg after egg, each larger than before, each one likely to be a struggle, but having no choice but to keep going, a slave to my body and the mistake I made weeks ago...someone normal would probably be afraid right about now, but I shiver with pleasure thinking about the inevitable consequences, and even have the nerve to feel as if I don't have quite enough rolling around inside me.
Besides, the flow of eggs has slowed down dramatically; before it was a steady stream being pumped into me, eggs nearly getting stuck in my hole as they pushed in nearly faster than I could take them. Now, only one egg at a time comes out, spaced apart further and further, allowing me to truly savor and cherish each one as they make my belly expand. I might as well see it through to the end, right?
The creature bucks beneath me as I coax another egg from its ovipositor, letting out a chilling noise, but one I know is a pathetic whine.
Then it's my turn to moan as I feel the egg enter me, slowly - the pleasure is two fold, first as it hits every sweet spot while going through my entrance, and again as it settles inside, shifting all the other eggs around as it looks for space in my crowded belly, and finding none forces me to expand that much more - I'm so full I can feel myself getting bigger, the eggs pushing and stretching my skin, can see my stomach, damp with sweat, shift around. I knead my distended gut, feeling the eggs, pain and pleasure mixing as I continue to push my poor stretched out body to the limits. I climax again - which number it is, I've lost count, and still I crave more.
I lovingly pet the creature beneath me as I realized it's stilled; it pants, exhausted, and for a moment I think I should have mercy on the poor thing.
But my lust wins over. I give my darling creature a gentle kiss, stroke its face, and whisper: "You've done so well for me. But do you think you can give me just a few more?"
just the idea of them overwhelming me with their new form. a huge cock to force in my tiny cunt. more hands than usual to pin me down and grope me. the strength to pick me up and use me like a fleshlight
Really into object insertion today. Imagining someone finding progressively bigger and bigger objects to stick inside their partner. Imagining them doing so with clinical efficiency, entirely fixated on how much can you take and how big can you go. Saying Just a little more, don’t move now. Shushing their partner when they whimper or try to move or squirm away from the huge wine bottle entering them. Or the sanded-smooth chair leg. Or the baseball bat. The sick fascination on their face as they watch it sink in, in, in into that once-tight hole. Leaving it stuck inside, groaning and starting to get themselves off right then and there at the sight of it, at the little noises and gasps their partner is making at being so utterly, utterly filled. So deep they can see the bulge in their stomach, can press one hand against it from the outside and revel in the aborted jerk it earns them. And then doing it again the next night, except with something even bigger. You know what I mean?
Imagine learning about a high quality erotic video game… maybe a mutual who shares a lot of your kinks sends you a copy saying it’s actually really good, one of the best games they’ve ever played, and you gotta try it. It’s even a souls-like, your favorite!
So you start it up and choose a difficulty—Easy Mode, since that’s where your mutual told you to start—though you notice Struggle Mode and chuckle. Then you get into the game itself.
It looks really good for an indie game, pretty low-poly but not so much that you can’t immediately tell the first enemy you encounter, a humanoid demon, has a dripping, rock-hard cock. Though the combat is challenging, you’ve got a lot of experience in this genre and you defeat him easily. You quickly discover that every single enemy has some kind of erect penetrative genitalia, and you begin to wonder if that’s the only “erotic” element of the gameplay. If so, it’s a little disappointing, but you’re genuinely enjoying it, so you play on.
It isn’t until the first boss that you finally reach 0 health. You watch as a cutscene begins to play. The grotesque quadrupedal boss pins your character to the floor, and your jaw goes slack as, instead of issuing the death blow you expect, the monster tears your character’s trousers down and mounts them from behind. Your character’s struggles become overwhelmed moans as the creature fucks them, and you’re shocked that the developers were able to communicate the idea of its massive cock making your character’s belly bulge with each thrust, given the graphics quality they’re working with. Incredible art direction, you think as you start to palm yourself over your pants. The sequence finally ends with your character wailing with an orgasm as the monster fills them with so much cum that their shirt rides up over their now-bulbous belly. They slump down, too burdened to walk, and a game over card reading “DEFEAT” appears.
You think that the flutter in your abdomen is just the excitement of choosing the “Retry” option.
The game gets a little more difficult as it continues, but most of the tension is from the knowledge of what will happen if you lose again. You almost want to get defeated on purpose to see more cutscenes, but there’s something more thrilling about trying your best and only being mounted if you’re not skilled enough. You can go back and 100% it later—you already know you’ll be playing again.
The second time you die, it’s to a werewolf enemy. You have to admit to yourself as you settle back to watch the cutscene that you may have been playing a little sloppy because you were distracted by its knot. The werewolf picks you up and bends you in half against a wall, knees forced almost to your shoulders so that the limited graphics can easily show its knot fucking into you. Whoever animated this put a remarkable amount of detail into the motion—even without much detail, you can sense your character’s hole is resisting so intensely every time the huge intrusion pops in and out that you can almost feel it. Finally it locks inside of you and howls, and your character goes limp, resigning themself to however long they’re going to spend knotted on this monster’s cock.
You lose to the werewolf three more times, probably because you start touching yourself every time the Defeat animation plays. Eventually you cum to it, and it’s while you’re taking off your underwear and getting a towel to sit on that you notice your belly is a little bloated. You chalk it up to a fiber-heavy dinner and return to best the werewolf with your post-nut clarity.
Your next death is to a siren who lures you into the water with a status called “enchantment.” She pulls you off the shore and right onto her ovipositor, and another lovingly elaborate animation plays of her pumping her eggs inside of you.
It’s during this one that you swear you can feel something large but malleable slipping inside of you. You chalk it up to being incredibly horny at 2 AM, but then you start to feel little weights settling into you, and your gently rounded belly grows slightly lop-sided as something is deposited inside you.
Your character groans and writhes more as each egg slips inside, and finally opens their own shirt to clutch at their lumpy abdomen, which only grows larger and rounder as the clutch fills them. Their head tips backwards with a dizzy expression, and you’re pretty sure they’re drooling as the scene fades out.
You look down at your own belly, breath short as you press gently at the lumpy texture of the distention.
That’s when you shut the game off and go to bed.
You wake earlier than usual in the morning, sticky with sweat and aching low in your hips. Your eyes flutter, and you catch a glimpse of your belly. Then you wake up very fast. Your instinct is to sit upright as quickly as possible, but it’s a struggle with a heavy, stretch mark-striped pregnancy gut sloping from below your ribs. You put your hands on it and start to feel around, and gasp as movement flutters all throughout, your skin distorting and distending from so many angles that it’s not a question of what you’re carrying, but how many.
You contact your mutual, but they’re at work in a different time zone. You open the game files and check the Terms and Conditions, and start sweating as you see that when you agreed to them, you agreed to “the full sensory experience of the gameplay”. You try to find a website for the developers or a page for the game itself, but all you find are a few Reddit threads of people claiming a video game made them pregnant, and all of those got shut down by mods before anyone answered.
You’d like to say that you take the situation seriously and go to a hospital, or at least continue to research what could be happening. But by this point you’ve had a huge pregnant belly hanging between your legs for a half-hour, and you can’t help yourself anymore. You rub your bump and find yourself whimpering at the rhapsody of a life-long dream realized. It’s even better than you imagined, your stretched skin sensitive to the touch and your darkened, popped navel practically an erogenous zone.
Since you can’t reach to touch yourself, you have to improvise, and end up humping a stack of folded-up pillows, but that’s all you need with your hands exploring your lively, wriggling belly. Even the pressure and ache in your hips and lower back feels good. You get a few cramps, but assume it’s from the vigorous bouncing on your knees and ignore them— until all of the muscles seize around your abdomen and your belly tightens.
