freaks only

Okay

Suppose we're having a homebirth, and we're both eager to draw things out as long as possible.

While you're in labor, I'll keep you in bed as much as possible, getting you things if you need them, but making sure you spend nearly all of your time laying back in bed with your hips propped up on a pillow, making sure each contraction does as little as possible, letting your belly clamp down over and over again with the smallest possible result each time.

Eventually, to the chagrin of both of us, your cervix is fully dilated and you start to feel an immense pressure low down in your hips. However, this doesn't mean you have to just give up and give birth. It feels like a watermelon is trying to slide its way through your cervix but you hold back, panting like mad as you try to work through the near-overwhelming fullness of your baby trying to come out. I keep your hips elevated as you breathe through your body's urge to bear down, letting you squeeze my hand whenever it gets to be too much and helping nudge your legs back together when you try and spread them to give birth.

You can't hold back forever, though. As much as I'd love to watch you keep breathing through the contractions for all eternity, and as much as you'd love to do exactly that, your refusal to push just can't last forever. You give a heroic effort, but all it takes is a single lapse of concentration before you're bearing down full-force. You're so full, so desperate to bear down that a single, endless push is enough to bring your baby all the way to your opening before my hand starts to hold it in place.

"It's okay honey, just push now, let it all out," and you sure have a lot to let out. You bear down again and again against the unyielding wall of my hand between your legs, keeping the head in place while I tease your clit with a vibrator to help you lose control. Most of the time, I barely let it touch you, giving you only a few brief moments of real stimulation at the peak of your pushes to encourage you to bear down as hard as possible and help you let out everything you've been holding back for the past few hours. I don't let you cum yet - it's not nearly time for that - but, eventually, you regain a measure of control over yourself anyways.

I help you slide your way into a one-piece swimsuit, one or two sizes too small for you, before you get up. It presses against you everywhere, but you feel the tightness of the suit especially keenly when you're almost immediately forced to bear down again. You push hard as you collapse to the floor, and manage to push the head out a fair distance against the stretchy fabric, but you let out a groan when you feel the suit push the head almost all the way back inside. God, this is perfect - this desperate frustration, this loss of control, the simple fact of knowing that you can't give birth right now no matter how much you try - it's better than you could have ever imagined.

You push again and again, in love with the feeling of your lips stretching as the head bulges out of you. It's not long before you discover that, if you angle your hips just right, your clit will rub up against the fabric of your swimsuit as the head moves in and out of. You take full advantage of this, pushing in short, sharp bursts to feel the head move as much as possible and rocking your hips in time with your pushes to feel the swimsuit rub as much as possible. You're red-faced and breathing hard, so close to cumming from the feeling of pushing your baby's head in and out, when I gently pull you off the floor, reminding you that we have errands we need to run today, that of course they can't just wait until you give birth, how else could you hold off from pushing in the store.

You manage to wrangle yourself into a skirt and top that aren't too ill-fitting, and we set off for the grocery store. You're not very comfortable at all on the car ride over, constantly squirming and groaning as the tight-confines of the vehicle don't let you spread your legs nearly as much as you want to, and as the baby's head is pressed back inside you by the seat. You feel so full between your legs, there's so much pressure, you can barely stay in your seat long enough for us to get where we're going.

The store is nearly completely empty at this hour - most of the people shopping here are either dead-tired, hungover, or both, and the staff don't care nearly enough to bother us. Still, you do your best to try to walk, rather than waddle, to stand up straight when the contractions hit you, to keep from groaning when you feel like you have to push. I take you around the store, largely as an excuse to make you stand and walk while you're in labor; we both know that we don't really need any of this stuff nearly that urgently, but I can see how flushed you are from the experience of trying not to give birth in such a public place. I can tell that you're pushing - you give the tiniest of grunts each time you bear down - but your face gives nothing away, even as you feel your clit rub against the fabric underneath your skirt each time the head bulges out of you.

The experience of birth is getting to you, though. There's too much stretching, too much pressure, too many contractions, too much teasing on your clit for you to handle. You discreetly tug on my sleeve as you quietly beg, "please, it's too much, I need… something, anything."

In response, I pull you over to a more isolated part of the store, an aisle near the back that should be almost totally deserted.

"Do you need to cum?" I ask.

You nod. "Please…"

"Okay, here-"

I help you lower yourself from a standing position to a wide-legged squat, pressing my hand beneath your skirt to cup the bulge between your legs as you feel another contraction start to build up.

"Push for me now."

You give in to the pressure inside you, pressing the head downwards agains the cloth covering your crotch. I can feel the bulge the head makes, sliding out farther than before with the help of gravity. The head burns so much as it makes its way out, but you gasp softly when you feel me press the fabric harder against your clit, heightening the sensation when you push, and again when you let go and when the head slides so far back in you.

"Good, good. You got the head so far out. Keep pushing. If you can manage to get to a full crown, I'll let you cum."

You bear down again, eager to finally earn some relief. You do your best while you push, keeping it going for as long as you can, but the fabric over the head provides too much resistance. You can get the head most of the way out, gasping and panting as you feel yourself stretch so far open and as your clit rubs against the suit, but it's never quite enough. This pattern repeats itself over and over. You push, and love the feeling as you do, but it's never quite enough to get off on (I make sure of it), and whenever you rest to breathe, you lose every bit of your progress.

Soon, you start to get desperate. You really want to cum, and you've been squatting and pushing in a grocery store aisle for far too long now. You start to take short, desperate breaths between long, drawn-out pushes, hoping to "catch" the head before it slides all the way inside you. You push and you push, inching the head out each time as you stretch wider and wider, straining as hard as you can against the increasingly strict resistance of the swimsuit holding the head in. With one last, desperate effort, you manage to push the head to a full crown, mouth open in a silent scream at the overwhelming burning as the head stretches you. You feel the rough fabric of your suit grind into the most sensitive part of your body as I press my fingers hard against your clit. Your legs shake as you cum, stretched out and squatting down in public, barely able to keep your noises of pleasure and pain inside. You nearly cry out again as you let go of your push and feel your suit drag against your clit again as the head is forced back inside you at record speed.

It takes you a few moments to recover from this, clinging on to my shoulders to make sure you don't fall over backwards, but eventually you manage to stand unsupported. A few furtive looks around the place confirm no one has seen our little escapade (or, at least, didn't stick around to gawk), and we make a hasty, shamefaced exit from the store.

This is far from the end of your birthing ordeal, of course. I'm nowhere near done with holding your baby's head inside you, and you're nowhere near done with having it held inside you. You'll spend hours more wearing that suit, pushing and pushing and getting exactly nowhere, and it'll be much, much longer after that before you finally, exhaustedly, birth your baby, but this askbox only extends so far, and I must end this tale somewhere.

Hope you enjoy!

Me

the fact that tumblr had the sheer audacity not to notify me about this? what the fuck

Their owner doesn't say anything about it but he fucks them on their back now, groping their swollen stomach and fondling their newly heavy, sensitive tits.

Eventually they get so big that they can barely walk. Their belly is tight and heavy, streaked with angry stretch marks. Their tits ache constantly, nipples swollen and puffy. Sometimes they leak little beads of white liquid. Their owner loves kneading and sucking on their tits now. They're so sensitive that it makes them sob and writhe.

The poor pet is miserable. They keep asking their owner what's wrong, why is their belly so big? But their owner just tells them it's normal, they're going to be just fine. They're starting to worry that they're going to be stuck like this forever, that their belly will keep growing and eventually they won't be able to move at all.

Finally one day they're woken up by a horrible pain in their belly. The pains keep coming all day leaving them crying and whining, desperately rubbing their huge stomach. Their owner doesn't seem concerned. He pets them and shushes them and tries to distract them by fingering their hole and sucking their leaking tits.

The pains get worse and worse. There's so much pressure on their hips. They kneel on their owner's lap, rocking their hips and crying into his chest. He pets them and whispers soothing nothings into their ear but they can feel his hard cock pressed against their stomach.

The pet thinks they're dying. They're so scared that when they start feeling the urge to push they try to fight it. Their owner tells them to let go and listen to their body but they sob and shake their head. They're so confused and overwhelmed, nothing makes sense and everything hurts so bad. They wail and struggle through each agonizing contraction fighting desperately against the overwhelming urge to push.

Eventually they can't hold out any longer. They give in to their body and bare down, screaming as the head of their first baby stretches their hole way too fast. They stretch torturously around it. It hurts so much but they can't stop pushing. They heave and shove, tiring themselves out, desperate to escape the burn as the head inches out of them. Finally the head bursts through. Another screaming push and the rest of the baby slides out. They slump, too exhausted to even be curious about what came out of them.

Being told to “hush, puppy”

Maybe slide a speculum into my puppy hole and slowly open me up,, ignoring my whines of discomfort

“Sit still pup” as I writhe and squirm, embarrassed by being on full display for you,,

oh well i loved every second of it. serving girl dick. taking girl dick. there was so many fantasies achieved in just one week! for context i met one of my superiors at a bar. she was with some friends i was with some friends the groups merged and we all ended up back at her place. fast forward a few hours everyone who lives near by leaves and it’s just me, my superior, and a cis dyke that stick around.

the cis dyke is like passed out on the couch leaving me and my superior to eye fuck each other. she’s like hey come lay down i listen(obviously) we’re in her bedroom just chatting about non sense before she starts touching me.

her hand on my thigh just rubbing it. immediately horny! then she’s like are you drunk? and i am about six maybe seven drinks in, not black out drunk but not sober. so of course because i’m a whore and i wanna be taken advantage of im like yes! im literally wasted.

there is no question. no do you like trans women? no do you wanna hook up? just not a single question. she took off her pants fisted her dicks. few times, spread my legs and got on top of me. there is something so nice about me being unprepared to receive and just take it anyway. my cunt forced apart to take my superior. every time it hurt or stung i just remembered i’m not working hard enough to be a better flashlight for her.

she was gentle with her thrust but would say the most vile shit. she was like,

“i knew you were one of those dykes.”

“another dick hungry lesbian.”

“god you’re so drunk. i could do anything to you.”

“i could cum in you. i think i will cum in you.”

There's a long pause, longer than any other. It's an off key, absent kind of sound.

Lifting your head up a bit, only to be pressed back down firmly into position. "Down. Stay-" You try to peek an eye open but my hand doesn't alleviate from your face. "I said: Stay."

You keep your eyes shut, confusion trickling like cold water down your spine. My breathing turns heavier as I run my hands down your body, "that's it. Good. Stay just like that- you're doing so good."

You freeze. Not moving a muscle as I pry your limp legs apart. Looking up from your pretty little cunt to your slack face, eerily still–you almost look like you're sleeping. Almost– and back down.

I'm bottoming out inside you before I can process the vapid desperate motion. Barely enough thought to pull your panties around your ankles. Holding you down by your head as I growl and quiet you. "shhh, that's right. Don't make a sound. Play dead. playdeadplaydeadplaydead, pup. Fuck- dead things don't whimper. They don't react, shush now."

While I violate you, I feel the dead weight of forcibly relaxed muscles clench and grip my thick cock. The tension and discomfort in you palpable. But your little head is spinning, it feels so good. You have to be a good doggy while you lie there and just take it. Doing exactly as your told. Each thrust jostling you, and you can't even scream. You can't move. You're dead. You're dead and I'm using your holes to jerk off.

A sick twisting in your guts tells you that you're going to cum from being used like snuffbait.

I tell you that too.