Three Goblin Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
blake kathryn
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
Mike Driver
Kaledo Art
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Stranger Things
trying on a metaphor
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
Xuebing Du
pixel skylines
Product Placement
@theartofmadeline
taylor price
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@wereknightpreg
M | they/them | late 20s butch masculine nonbinary
All of my longer stories are now uploaded to and updated on AO3:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Asks are always welcome! I don't RP.
Main interests: magical pregnancy, non-human pregnancy, fantasy settings, realistic belly size + unrealistic belly content, impregnation, rapid preg, permapreg, denial
Not into: realistic/wholesome/human pregnancy
Permapreg in the 'no magic can evict this slime from my womb' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'laying eggs for hours and being just as pregnant by the end of it' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'constant, extremely arousing movement' type of way.
#I already said this but something colonizing your womb leaving you perpetually full and round #Frequently writhing inside you and occasionally you're giving birth to its offspring - eggs or even something else #But you can spend hours pushing out a clutch/litter without your belly ever looking any less full. #Reblogs #Preg kink #Your belly is active the entire time you're in labor as of it's working to push its children out but that's nothing compared to later #You're barely able to catch your breath before it starts writhing roughly - deliciously. It must be making more you thinkn #You stroke your permanently swollen belly and you don't even *want* to be free from whatever's in you
prev's tags had to be preserved
I need pretty boys breeding big tough guys representation
@zesty-alt Who's topping in representation like this? Or doesn't it matter as long as they're trying to make babies? 😏
Atm, small pretty twink shoving the face of a man a foot taller than him into the mattress as he fucks a baby into him 😁
to my loyal followers: change thy default icon, add a description, and reblog some posts
#stop looking like a bot or I shall vaporise thee #use tumblr like it was meant to be used. you can be anonymous and let your freak flag fly without looking like a bot and getting blocked #and while I'm at it: forsake the cursèd 'for you' tab and embrace the 'following' tab. throw off the algo-yoke. thrive
#more new followers so reblogging this on here as well #get in the pool the water's fine! #just make sure you actually put on your swimsuit first or else the wet clothes will get uncomfortable #which is to say: dive into your settings etc and play around in there #turn of best stuff first!!! this will make your dash chronological #seriously if you're new here and confused just shoot me a message it can be anonymous #so many of you have a DNI and nothing else which is like having a ring doorbell but no house
#big welcome to the new followers!!!! #I am once again pointing at the sign though #pointing with love #today's tip: go into your settings and turn off 'based on your likes'! #also btw pregkinkvillain is my sideblog check it out :)
#throwing this on the blog once more#getting some follows from people who post (mostly) AI and obviously stolen pictures which is an automatic block 🚫#be brave and post your own shit like the rest of us!!!!!!! or just reblog original content#being a 'curator' type blog who only reblogs is hugely appreciated and an important role in the tumblr ecosystem!!#there's creators getting 6 likes and 1 reblog on a post while some awful AI pic goes triple platinum
Mage meets Slime
Researching mage meeting a slime girl!
Need him round and heavy with slime eggs, lying back and legs parted, crying from overstimulation at the magic wand directly on his t-cock and just beneath that, the first egg crowning.
Which do you prefer: slimes who sneak their way into someone's womb and...
lay eggs
split off some of their body to form a new slime
Permapreg in the 'no magic can evict this slime from my womb' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'laying eggs for hours and being just as pregnant by the end of it' type of way.
Permapreg in the 'constant, extremely arousing movement' type of way.
An oblivious adventurer comes across some hot springs. They gratefully shed all their equipment in one go and dive in. The water's heavenly.
When the heat has relaxed them completely, they're too sleepy to notice any movement in the water. By the first touch it's already too late. They can only hang on as something smooth and girthy slips inside.
It's in so deep, so quickly. And it's undulating, setting a ruthless pace and making the adventurer throw their head back and scream in utter terror melting to confused pleasure. It's almost like they're melting, dissolving into the water, until they don't know where their body begins and ends.
The first egg, fist-sized and soft-skinned, squeezes inside unnoticed. Quickly followed by another. And another.
Half a dozen sit in the adventurer's womb by the time they notice anything. A twinge has them looking down at their formerly flat stomach. It's round now, a little swell sitting ominously low.
But their eyes skip further down, to the weirdly formless being between their legs. It's hard to see, translucent, invisible but for its frenetic movement.
If the water were calm and the watcher alert and keen-eyed, they might be able to spot an overstuffed egg sac emptying swiftly.
They might have predicted the adventurer's fate before the creature's subtle venom made them lethargic and pliant.
As it is, they don't have to the presence of mind to even contemplate escape. Which is why the creature has pulled this exact same trick many times before.
And it's succeeded again.
By the time the adventurer's mind starts to clear, it will have already made its way deep, deep into the spring.
They come to in placid water, only disturbed by the minute movements of--or rather, in--their swollen stomach.
The little twinges and twitches draw the adventurer's attention, but their current predicament still fails to register.
Their gaze and fingertips explore the ample surface without conscious thought.
Dazed, they rise out of the water on shaky legs. Unexpected heaviness pulls them down.
They scramble on the rocks to stay upright. Unfamiliar weight hangs under them. They look down.
A stranger's body. That's their first instinct. It's unbelievable that the blatantly gravid belly is theirs.
Stumbling onto dry land and clumsily pulling on their clothes breaks the spell. The tunic won't go down. The trousers won't go up.
And between them sits an egg-stuffed womb that undulates gently, like water around a swimmer's skin.
The way back to town takes thrice as long as their entire trip so far.
By the time they collapse on the healer's doorstep, the first egg is already crowning.
Miles away, in a desolate landscape, two tired mercenaries stumble upon a hotspring. While saying a little prayer of thanks, their armour is already hitting the ground. They get in without a second thought.
(archive work) She loves when her brave little hero looks like this 🧡💚
knocking him up good and hard thru his jorts
A mighty elder wizard, in the highest room of his tower, bent over with his robes unceremoniously pulled up. By a harpy. His wand is across the room and the talons on either side of him are bigger than his head. An egg that feels similarly sized is being worked into his womb agonisingly slowly. He can't move.
When a servant finds him hours later, their master is sprawled across the floor, bare from the chest down. They drop his dinner. Not that he would have eaten it. Without the splendour of his robes, he's saggy skin around a thin frame. Or used to be. His belly is stretched to capacity around a weird, ovoid shape. He looks due.
A rustle of feathers.
The servant looks up to find an evil-eyed bird monster desperate to lay again.
Going back to basics and thinking about knights. There's a lot of lore re: living armour, death knights and such that I would love to introduce some preg kink into.
Like an oathbreaker dying and becoming an undead creature still wearing its past incarnation's armour; they don't have a body as such, and they're mostly held together with pure magic.
Now imagine that oathbreaker dying with a huge round belly that their armour can barely contain. Imagine them rising again, two red lights shining from the slit in their visor the only indication that they're more than a suit of armour. And yet their chainmail is stretched across their round middle.
Are they still pregnant? How is that possible?
Their gravid shape clearly hinders them: the arc of their swinging greatsword is slow and unbalanced. This must be how they died.
The general protocol here would be to send the knight to their second death with a well-timed smite, but this particular specimen is too interesting to just put down.
Disarming them is easier. Pushing them onto their back even more so.
They're unnaturally still; no breathing, no trembling, just a walking corpse. And yet they cradle their heavy-looking belly with both hands.
Your swordhand keeps your blade steady under their chin, holy light casting shadows across the knight's helmet.
The other hand reaches for that irresistable, paradoxical roundness.
You startle. Your hand flies back to your side as if burned, then returns immediately to the knight's swollen middle.
The metal feels slightly warm, and there's movement.
How can that be? You can clearly see the narrow gap between pieces of armour. You can run your finger along the rim of a gauntlet and feel the empty space that would normally contain living flesh. You can look up into the pitch black darkness showing through the visor where two dim red lights stare out instead of eyes...
As you watch, the light grows even dimmer and briefly flicker, almost like it's blinking. Your free hand returns to the bewildering movement, cupping and lifting gently, testing its weight and give.
Your eyes never stray from the helmet, and so you see the precise moment your touch registers: the lights flare, like wide suprised eyes, and dim again, almost to nothing.
You jostle its belly experimentally, and are rewarded with an even bigger reaction. Interesting.
Well, you can't just kill this knight while such a baffling mystery goes unexplored.
Better truss it up and take it back into the city. Let some scholars shine their light on it.
And if, while resting at camp that night, you find yourself petting the knight's belly with one hand down your trousers, who's to know?
A fisherman watching a shimmering tail and graceful arms thrashing in his net with the fish assumes he's caught himself a mermaid.
He enthousiastically pulls his catch aboard his little fishing vessel, eager to properly lay eyes on the creature.
Realising a few seconds too late he's made a critical error, there's nothing he can do when a strong, frenzied merman--clearly in heat--grabs him by the belt.
Mere minutes after he spotted the unexpected bycatch, his pants are around his ankles and he's speared on the merman's throbbing cock.
He'd worry if he wasn't out of his mind with pleasure.
By the time he knows which way's up again, the merman is disappearing over the side with a splash.
Sprawled against the rough wood, the fisherman looks down at his poor, overstuffed belly. His shakily exploring hands find that squishy mer-eggs have little give when packed in this tight. And there's slick dripping from his still senstive hole.
He looks around, lost. So much for fish...
Three months later, the fisherman's little problem weighs on him even more. He looks properly pregnant now, belly showing through any number of thick coats and sweaters. The... spawn has come alive inside of him, thrashing and squirming under his skin.
He can't fish like this, but one morning he wakes to an inexorable pull towards the sea.
By the time he reaches the water's edge, his belly is cramping up and he's dripping wet between his legs. It's all he can do to pull off his shoes and pants and sit in the surf, groaning against the waves of pain and unexpected pleasure.
Soon, weight has shifted down into his pelvis, and something is crowning.
He's far too busy to notice anyone coming closer, until suddenly the merman is in front of him. It's definitely the same one, although he looks clear-eyed and curious now.
Strong hands lift and part the fisherman's legs, and he sobs with relief when the first egg pops free.
The next one arrives much faster, and after the third and fourth, there's a nearly continuous stream of eggs that don't allow him to catch his breath.
Once he's finally empty, it takes a long while before he can sit up again. When he does, there's a small group of merpeople a little way off, clearly carrying the eggs--which look disappointingly small given the pain he went through--away into the sea.
The original merman is still here, now running his hands over the fisherman's crotch and belly as if to check for any stragglers.
Satisfied that the whole haul has been laid, he swims away, leaving the fisherman to splutter indignantly at his retreating silhouette under the water.
It takes quite a while before the fisherman is back out on the water, and he curses at himself whenever he pulls a net over the side and some part of him is watching for any signs of merpeople.
Luckily, he's quickly distracted by a merman pulling himself onto the boat.
It's not one he's seen before, but the crazed look and obscene, swollen cock are all too familiar.
When the fisherman pulls down his own pants, he tells himself he's just surrendering to the inevitable, but soon his traitorous body sings with pleasure at every egg settling into his belly.
If he's going to go into fish farming, those damned mer had better compensate him accordingly.
Skinny little rogue trying to scale the castle walls with a pregnant belly that sticks out like a sore thumb vs guard up on the ramparts seriously distracted by his own heavy belly and the slippery egg bulging out of his fat cunt.
Someone will be in the stocks come morning, but will it be a thief caught in the act or a lax guard who allowed the crown jewels to be stolen?
Adventurer deep in a dungeon finds themselves growing hard and wet at the sight of some abandoned armour propped up against the wall with a curiously rounded section over the belly, as if its owner was heavily pregnant. Unable to hold back, they pull their clothes down just enough to free their aching groin and rub themselves across the shining metal swell with abandon. Rutting like a wild animal, they don't notice their own armour growing tighter until pain cuts through their pleasure. Briefly stilling their hips, they reach for their middle with both hands and find themselves heavy and round.
Transfixed, throbbing flesh still pressed to the now slick and warming metal, they don't notice twin flames igniting behind the armour's eye holes. Two gauntlets wrap around their biceps like a vice. It's already too late.
The adventurer's blood freezes in fear as a long, slow ripple moves through their previously unoccupied womb. Before they can react, something ancient jolts in the metal belly beneath them, and every muscle in their body seizes up in pleasure.
When they come to, the metal below looks like a regular cuirass, its flames extinguished. The adventurer's hugely swollen belly jerks and thrashes in the remains of their armour, as it had been there for months. They get to their feet with no small amount of effort, two pinpricks of red light shining from their eyes.
pregnancy fetish (in fiction) and pregnancy phobia (in real life) FIGHT!
