No minors 18+ Blog @xochem63 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
No minors 18+ Blog
@xochem63
I am 18+ (between 22-30) if you want a more specific age you may dm me.
This blog is only meant for legal adults, if you do not have your age on your page or are under 18 I will block you.
THIS BLOG IS FOR LEGAL ADULTS ONLY, IF YOU ARE NOT 18+ PLEASE LEAVE. NO EXCEPTIONS.
If you are a minor do not interact or follow me. For blogs that do not follow this rule, or have a stated age (or an age range) in your bio or a pinned post I will block you.
With that important housekeeping out of the way, hello and welcome!
This is a fetish blog for pregnancy and breeding kinks, sometimes with a darker or cnc tone. I especially enjoy exploring the transformative body changes that come with pregnancy. All my content is fully fantasy and I believe that everyone should have a right to bodily autonomy and that consent is always 100% mandatory.
I don't mind talking in my DMs and asks are open but do NOT send me any unsolicited pictures or I will block you. Additionally no transphobic or homophobic asks.
I am open to rping, but please check out my list of kinks to see if we have any similar interests first! :)
I also can enjoy a planned or wanted vanilla pregnancy with wholesome and fluffy aspects
Belly movement
CNC
Monsterfucking/inhuman/magical pregnancy
Pregnancy as body horror
Hyperpregnancy
Artifical Insemination or medical kink
Rapid pregnancy
Eggpreg (case by case basis)
Infidelity resulting in pregnancy (case by case basis)
Weight gain (as a result of pregnancy)
Belly movement
Lactation
Multiples
Cum Stuffing/Inflation
Overall thinking about pregnancy and breeding in a transformative aspect, how much the body changes, and how much it is forced to change against ones will.
THINGS I WILL NEVER POST ABOUT/IMMEDIATE TURN OFFS
Vore
Raceplay
Anything involving minors/underage
Watersports, scat, etc
Incest
Pet play
Daddy Kink
If you have any questions feel free to ask I will add to this later as well. :)
Getting knocked up is exhilarating to me because it means that everyone who sees your belly will know someone ~did that~ to you. Everyone will know someone made you their whore. And you just couldnât resist, could you? You just wanted to feel their cum in your tummy so bad. Maybe nobody will notice what you did at first, but you canât hide your bump forever. Eventually youâll be big enough that everyone will be able to see what a pregnant little slut you are under that hoodie. You held your pretty little legs open and let them cum in you and now the whole world gets to watch you swollen with the consequences.
I have to imagine that rapid pregnancy would be far more humiliating than what people often write about. Sure, thereâs the horror of watching a womb slowly inflate, each inhale leaving it further out than the last until itâs obvious whatâs happening.
But few people think about the rush of endorphins and hormones and what that might do to someone while theyâre already dealing with the sudden pregnancy. When that pressure pushes down on their hips and leaves their cunt engorged, will they notice that theyâre starting to soak through their clothes? Will their face flush crimson as they try to ignore it, only to feel their nipples throb as their breasts grow and prepare to let down with milk?
How much more embarrassing will it be when they let out a wail, drawing attention to both their new fecundity as well as their quivering legs while they cum in front of everyone?
I think getting big and round with a popped, pregnant belly button would be really embarrassing, too. And then all the hormones making me horny while my tits swell up into milky udders?
I'd be humiliated as I scream and squirt, soaking my pants that are already torn open over my ripening belly. Everyone turning to stare at my heavily pregnant body as I cum and grow, milk dripping from my puffy nipples.
Itâs already pretty hot that sperm can survive in the body for up to five days, but can you imagine if it could survive indefinitely? If you could just spontaneously get pregnant at any time, and have absolutely no idea whose baby you're growing because of how many different people youâve let finish inside you over the years? Imagine a long-term partner fucking ridiculous amounts of cum into you to ensure the highest possible chance of your next baby being theirs, outnumbering everybody elseâs sperm by several hundred to one. Imagine you break up with that partner, and your new partner has to fuck you even harder and more frequently just to even the odds between them and your ex. Imagine youâve been on the pill for years and years and then one month, for whatever reason, it fails. And suddenly youâre pregnant, even though the last time you had unprotected sex was over a year ago. Imagine you save yourself for marriage and finally get pregnant with your spouseâs child, only to find out that the second you gave birth, you immediately became pregnant with their next child. They donât have to touch you, let alone finish inside you, ever again. Your body is preserving their sperm, ready to fertilize the next egg the moment youâre ready for it. There can be tens of millions of sperm cells released in a single emission, so even one creampie could set you up for life. Imagine letting one person finish inside you over a decade ago, and youâre still getting pregnant by them all these years later because of the seed they left inside of you. Imagine perpetual pregnancies with a roulette wheel of sires, a collection of every single person whoâs ever cum inside you, a group that gathers around you every time you give birth, eager to find out which of them this child most resembles. There isnât a single birth control method thatâs 100% foolproof, so even if you spent your whole life on birth control, youâd still have to walk around every day with the constant paranoia that you could be already pregnant and have absolutely no idea. You could be doing absolutely anything: sitting at your desk, walking through the park, riding a roller coaster, cooking dinner, and there would always be the very real chance that you were getting pregnant at that exact moment.
somebody putting on one of those fake pregnancy bellies for whatever reason, going to take it off and finding they can't, struggling more and more frantically as the silicone seemingly melts into their skin and their fake belly gets heavier and heavier until they feel a kick, looking down to find their belly is now shifting and rolling full of real, huge, squirming babies, kicking and thrashing against the confines of their womb..
Imagine a scenario where there is a town or village that functions like an insect colony: One member carries, births, and nurses all the litters, but the babies are mostly raised by the village. When the Village Breeder reaches menopause, the village's most virile scouts are sent out to find a new breeder (they cannot pick from within the village because the other villagers are their relatives and I'm not into incest). The new breeder is altered using either magic or fertility drugs to be able to conceive and carry litters of 5-12 babies at a time. Perhaps this ritual involves drinking the milk of the previous Village Breeder, like a sort of royal jelly.
The Village Breeder's cunt is free use for any unrelated cock, and is perpetually soaking wet. Their tits are massive and perpetually leaking milk to feed their massive brood. Their womb is only ever briefly empty, as their recovery from pregnancy and birth is instant and they often get knocked up again on the very same day right after giving birth to their last litter.
Some Village Breeders came willingly. Some had to be coerced or even kidnapped. But all come to love their roles as blissed-out broodmares birthing the next generation.
Something Iâve been thinking about lately is how much I crave the heaviness of pregnancy. Not only would you have filled me up so good that my belly arches forward in front of me, an enormous rounding curve of fully pregnant belly leading the way when I waddle, but it will feel so heavy.
Iâll arch my back, hand firmly placed on my lower spine, just to try and carry it but the weight of the huge belly youâve given me will just sink farther and farther down into my hips; the oblong shape of the belly will keep pulling me forward and down. I wonât be able to waddle anywhere without letting out desperate little grunts, each step forward a monumental effort to manage the huge load youâve given me to haul around.
My hands will restlessly shift from the top of the rounded curve to my back, as I shift my weight from side to side, and then desperately try to hold up some of the weight from the bottom of my belly. But nothing I do provides relief for long, especially as my belly hangs low on my hips the farther along I get in this pregnancy, overdue by daysâŚ.so I continue to restlessly moan as I try to move anywhere.
If you saw me like this when you came homeâŚpanting as I slowly waddled towards the kitchen, heavy belly torpedoed and arched in front of meâŚbreasts resting full and milky on the long shelf of my bellyâŚmy gait impossibly wide and hands roaming all over my body, desperately seeking reliefâŚ.what would your reaction be?
Here's a weird idea: what if your boss orders you a new office chair, but it turns out to be a high-tech breeding bench that holds you in place for robotic insemination. The device pesters your coworkers to leave semen samples, and they do just to shut it up (or maybe they love the idea of you stuffed full with their babies). You're confused and humiliated as you swell up with every sample. The device is programmed to announce how full your womb is and how full your teats are. Your coworkers accept that you're the office babymaker now, and talk about you as if you're a finicky printer when you struggle with your first of many births.
This is a fun one! I love the idea of being the only one who doesn't know what's going on until I'm swollen with everyone's babies, so maybe the device doesn't make its announcements until I'm decently far along. But first I don't even realize I'm pregnant at all, I'm just trying to hide and deal with this sudden weight I've been gaining. I'm already embarrassed about getting fat so fast, and everyone seems to be staring at me all of the time, but maybe it's my imagination because I'm self conscious. I'm in denial as I feel the first flutters. I don't want to be pregnant, and how could I be? But I can't deny it for long, and I'm horrified and humiliated when the device announces to the office how well bred I am.
I get big fast, with at least one baby from each of my coworkers stuffed into my womb. Soon I'm waddling around the office, panting and blushing from the exertion and embarrassment. My boss and coworkers pat and rub my belly without asking, talking about me like I'm not even there, talking about how well production is going and what a lucrative quarter it should be when I finally pop. The device announces that my big, swollen milkers are full to capacity, and they discuss how well I'm exceeding the projections while opening up my shirt so they can suckle and drain me.
The babies kick and roll inside of me constantly, and even if everyone couldn't already see how massively pregnant I am, the device announces how far along I am and how big my babies are getting. There are meetings about my progress, and the staff discuss goals for next time, and how they can exceed production by filling me even more. I'm present for the meetings, but no one asks for my input or addresses me at all. All I can do is lean back in my seat, huffing as the babies move, rubbing my boulder of a belly, completely overcome by being turned into a baby factory for the entire office.
When my water breaks, right in the middle of the office in front of everyone, the reactions are casual. My coworkers nonchalantly check my dilation as if they're checking their email. The first baby is huge, and takes forever to even breach my cervix, and my coworkers press on my belly and make me squat as if they're troubleshooting a finicky printer while trying to make me crown. I end up laying in the middle of the office, my legs spread as I struggle to birth the first baby, my coworkers taking turns drinking my milk and watching me labor while drinking coffee and chatting about how long it's taking for me to get this baby out.
Been thinking about early pregnancy, a belly still small enough to hide but just big enough that you know what's there and it's in the way.
Trying to put on clothes that fit before but now that bump is making it impossible to zip up your favorite pair of jeans, looking down at the fly and seeing how your belly fills out that gap just slightly to big now to suck it in and force them closed. There's still time to hide it and pass it off, but eventually everyone will know and you'll have no choice but to embrace it
(Warning for noncon, breeding, hyperpregnancy, medical) (This is weird, read at your own risk)
What if there was a genetic mutation that altered a manâs sperm, so that once inside the womb, they can live indefinitely until itâs time to fertilize an egg⌠If one of these men cums inside someone, it doesnât just mean one pregnancy. Millions of sperm now live permanently in their womb, all waiting for their chance to fertilize an egg⌠and theyâll never go away.
Maybe the presence of this altered sperm also changes the uterus, messing with the hormonal system and triggering a constant, steady stream of eggs to be released for insemination. Once one egg is fertilized, it doesnât stop: more and more inseminations will occur like clockwork, forever, until the body is unable to produce any more. The man just needs to cum inside once, and he receives a full-time baby factory for life.
People are aware of this mutation, and take precautions to protect themselves from men that have it⌠But some will inevitably fall victim to it.
Iâm imagining hooking up, having a one night stand with a nice, handsome man⌠and over the next few weeks I realize something is very wrong. My stomach slowly begins swelling, visible after just a week.
Soon enough, itâs clear what has happened, and Iâm taken in by medical professionals who are trying to find a cure for people afflicted with this condition. I slowly succumb to the dawning horror that my body was now primed to produce babies. Forever. The doctors run tests and monitor me 24/7, but slowly they lose interest in trying to âfixâ me at all, choosing instead to study my bodyâs transformation.
First, my womb begins to distend with the first few dozen successful fertilizations. Slowly, my body starts to adjust to the changes in my hormonal system: my breasts slowly grow, at first doubling, then tripling in size, becoming massive watermelons full of milk. My hips slowly widen, swelling with a soft layer of fat in preparation for nurturing my growing brood.
Day after day, Iâm forced to watch my body grow heavier and heavier, as the doctors take measurements on my stomach, my breasts, my hipsâŚ
At first Iâm able to walk around my living quarters, at least, struggling with the weight of my immense brood, and trying not to catch glimpses of my body in the mirror. My once pleasantly chubby body is now a caricature of fertility, my massive stomach hanging down to my knees, my breasts still plumping up with no signs of stopping.
A few months in, I try to make it out of my cot, but my womb is officially too large to allow me to walk on my own strength. Now all I do, every day, is watch my belly extend further and further. Lying on my back, my legs splayed out helplessly under my massive form, I am officially more womb than I am anything else. The weight of my belly is like a warm waterbed, cementing me to the mattress.
After 9 months, the first round of babies are ready to be birthed. Throughout this âfirst pregnancyâ, that single load of semen had been working methodically, and even after I give birth to the first batch, dozens and dozens more were still growing inside.
Never again would I know the feeling of an empty womb. Never again would I be able to walk, or even crawl: wherever the doctors put me, that was where I was going to be. Like a fancy piece of lab equipment.
Because of the size of my belly, in order to deliver the babies safely the doctors have me repositioned, having me lay stomach-down. My toes donât even come close to touching the floor, as my womb is so large that I am suspended off the ground. The doctors hook my beach-ball-sized breasts up to a milking machine. Now I produced on both ends: a steady supply of milk and babies.
My life slowly melts into a haze of constant milking and birthing. I churn out a new set of babies once every few weeks, but itâs never enough to counter the steady stream of fertilizations. Everything blurs together, except one thing. Sometimes, just for the sick thrill of it, I turn my head as far back as I can, to catch a glimpse of myself in the roomâs solitary mirror. Every time I look, I take in my helplessly hanging legs, my grotesquely swollen belly, and my ballooned, milky tits, and I can tell Iâm just a little bit larger than I was the last time I checked.
Sometimes I fantasize that the sperm from that fateful hookup might finally run out, but I knew deep down that the hundreds of babiesâ thousands, maybeâ that had been sired within me had used only the smallest fraction of the seed buried inside my womb.
Does anyone know if there is still a way to access that pregnancy kink tier list anywhere? All the links I found were dead and it looks like it's been removed from tier maker :(
tbh i think the hottest thing about preg is the progression of it.
from that initial realization of whatâs about to happen all the way to nine months down the line, watching yourself continue to swell and grow as your bodyâs overtaken by your pregnancy, leaving you completely at the mercy of your hormones. you now have no choice but to wind up huge and full, straining under the weight of your womb as it slowly dominates your torso, soon leaving you waddling. you can already feel your hips spreading and ass thickening up, thighs growing soft to match your heavy breastsâwhen you look in the mirror a few months later, you can hardly recognize your own body, stretched out into almost a caricature of motherhood as it is. you fucking love it, and itâs so hard to keep your hands off your massive belly or your leaking tits.
youâve still got time enough to make things work on your own, but when you get too big to touch yourself, thenâyouâre just going to have to hope you find somebody willing to help you out, right? youâll be so desperate for relief, and youâre gonna look so good begging to be filled when youâre already ready to pop; surely you wonât have trouble finding an eager helper.
it really turns me on when i hear women who didnât mean to get pregnant complain about how big and heavy theyâve gotten.
complaining about how tight their clothes have gotten and how they canât sit down with out their big bellyâs forcing their legs apart. Knowing thereâs nothing they can do about it, they just have to watch themselves get pumped up like a fucking balloon. Helpless and swollen.
If you have ever known anyone with a kink for being hit, or beat up, or raped and you're okay with them, you also gotta be okay with the people who's kink it is to do the hitting, the beating, or the raping. At the end of the day, we're adults playing pretend, and that's it.
With every single sub i have the first thing we ever do is establish the safe word (stoplight system), and the non-verbal safe word in case they can't talk for any reason. If I can't tell where the sub is at, I will ask them point blank what is their color, and if they can't give a response, we stop. The goal is to make the other person feel good, including pain, and the most important part us knowing your subs limits and LISTENING to them. I will *never* hurt a sub in a way that they have not explicitly expresssed interest in.
Part of what makes getting knocked up such a fantasy imo is the fact that itâs sort of like your partner is claiming your body for their own purpose. Once your tummy is swollen and round everyone who sees you will know that someone fucked you good and deep. Everyone will know that someone claimed you as theirs and that they put their baby right in that belly of yours. You canât hide a bump like that forever, no matter how hard you try. And your partner just gets to watch in satisfaction as you grow, knowing that your body is creating their baby.
Itâs okay to have fantasies that you would never want to do in reality. Itâs okay to have fantasies that you donât want to do with other people. Itâs okay to try things in real life and decide you only like them in fantasy. Itâs okay to only like certain things in certain contexts. You donât need to prove anything to anyone. You are not any less valid in your kinks if you enjoy the idea of them more than the reality.
