Belly Momma

Birth Parlors are an extremely exclusive, and extremely underground business that have begun cropping up due to this advance in technology. There were little to no limits as to what could happen here…as long as you had the money. A patron could spend millions on customization in a single night on a single labor & birth experience or even a full package Impregnation experience. The amount of money this business made was unprecedented for such a taboo.

“The Duchy” was one of the most popular and untouchable Parlors in the business. As long as there were no bodies to bury, the doors stayed open and workers stayed employed.

Millie, A petite woman with pale skin and red hair, cries out in her room. She was a newer worker here and this was her first labor and birth. Her large belly quivers as her patron raises the intensity of the orgasm function on his remote.

"Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" She said as she felt the pressure build in the base of her belly.

The man stroked his cock at the sight of the woman riding a dildo. "Yeah, pop for me, cmon!"

He specifically ordered to see an orgasmic labor and popping. That much Millie knew. Afterwards, a quick birth that he'd paid extra for Millie not to know about. Her entire body shook as she came and her waters burst around the thick dildo. She grasped her bump as it contracted hard.

“I-is there anything else you need sir?” Millie asked.

“Nah, part two is already starting,” the man groaned as he rubbed his cock.

Millie was about to ask what he meant, but a severe contraction took hold of her body. Her baby shot through her cervix as fast as lightning. Millie cried out and desperately hopped off the dildo, falling onto the room's couch. Instinctively, the young mother began pushing down on her unexpectedly fast coming baby.

“What did you order!” Millie shrieked as the big head forced open her tight pussy. Her whole body shook as the heavy babe spread her wide to the point she'd feel like she was going to tear.

Her pussy lips were drawn tightly around the head. The man smiled and jerked his cock as her labia strained to stay together. This is exactly what he'd paid millions for.

Kelcie, a more experienced birther next door, was groaning under the strain of labor and the need to cum.

Her body wasn't her own at this moment. It was this woman's, who rubbed her tits and throbbing clit endlessly.

“Let me give birth already,” Kelcie moaned softly. Her birth had been stalled at full crown for nearly an hour. Her affluent patron had her strapped up in a harness, legs spread and arms overhead for at least double that.

The woman caressed Kelcie's bump and tits hungrily with one hand and her fingers twisting Kelcies clit with the other.

“We still have so much time left, I want to savor you more,” the woman whispered.

Kelcie just let her head roll back and bear the brunt of the pain burning her pussy. Fluid squirted onto the ground around the big head. This wasn't the first time she had a birth stall, but god did she wish they'd turn off the pressure and pain sensitivity because it was maddening to push with no progress.

In a few rooms over, a group of white collar business men were hazing their new underling.

“We do this with all of the newbies, just gotta pump her full and enjoy the show,” one of the older guys said.

The young man stepped toward Zora, with his cock tenting through the zipper of his pants. Tense, he slowly thrusted his dick into Zora. His face scrunched as he felt her tight canal around him.

Zora trembled as the young man thrusted into her. It had to have been his first time with how hard he was trying not to cum within his first few thrusts. But it was no use, he came in huge, clearly pent up bursts of cum.

Zora had been pregnant before working at “The Duchy”, but she’d never experienced what was about to happen as the young man's seed took.

Her stomach bubbled, then began to swell. Swiftly and suddenly she felt her flat stomach rapidly grow from a pouch just below the navel to a giant round belly with a poked out belly button.

Zora's nails dug into the bed as the weight crashed onto her barely prepared body that still leaked cum. She gasped as her tits strained and leaked against her lingerie. Her legs flared out as the babe dropped into her pelvis. She groaned as her bump subtly twinged and movement fluttered beneath her palm.

Then, she felt a familiar pressure in the base of her taut stomach. Her stomach seized against her and then her waters burst onto the linen. Before she could process it, a huge head drove through her cervix.

“Too fast, too fast!” Zora shrieked.

As she cried out in pain, pushing on her rapidly grown baby, the salarymen jacked their dicks off at the sight of her. She pulled her legs back as the young man's baby quickly spread her pussy to a full crown. The burn encompassed her entire lower half.

Her back arched, poking her huge belly in the air. Zora shrieked as the huge babe popped out of her pussy in a rush of fluid. She fell into a heap on the bed, panting. The afterbirth didn't even have a chance to come out before the men started laughing and chatting again.The men then pushed another newbie forward.

In the basement, a large scale birth show was occurring. Dozens of patrons filled the seats, cheering and hollering as their entertainment spread their pussy wide for them.

Alex grasped their hands around the pole with a fully crowned head between their legs. Their low hanging belly, still full with three more babies, swayed stiffly as they bore down and sensually rotated their hips. They moaned in a showy manner despite their body dripping with sweat.

The patrons whistled as the quadruplet carrier slid up and down the pole. They pleasured themselves as fluid squirted around the shoulders and Alex moaned over the crowds clamoring. Their belly twisted and released in repetition until their first baby fell out of them, onto the cushioned floor of the stage.

The crowd shouted in celebration.

Alex's hand shot straight to their bump as one of the The Duchy employees gathered the child. The second baby was ready to make its rapid descent.

“Oh god, the second baby is comiiing!” Alex moaned into their mic. They slid down the pole and got onto their hands and knees. Their huge belly grazed the ground as they shook their ass. Soon after their waters burst for the second time in the night, making the crowd go wild.

Riley, “The Duchy"s owner watched from the box booth above the amphitheater as she rubbed her own swelling twin belly. She could hardly bear watching her beautiful workers have all of the fun. This was how she made her money and she wouldn't have it any other way.

The first contraction hit Marley like a freight train derailing inside her pelvis. She was 19, a sophomore, and six weeks early by her careful calculations. She had been crouched over her biology textbook, highlighting the stages of mitosis, when her body decided to rewrite the entire chapter on human reproduction.

Across the cramped dorm room, a sound ripped through the stale air. A wet, guttural groan. Not from Marley. From Jess, her roommate, who was on her hands and knees by the window, her sweatpants already soaked through. Jess was 20, and she had been hiding her pregnancy under oversized hoodies for eight months.

Then a sharp cry from the bathroom. The door was half open. Cass, all of 19 and fiercely private, was leaning over the sink, her knuckles white on the porcelain. Her water had just broken, a clear flood spreading across the linoleum.

And in the corner, on a pile of dirty laundry, sat Rachel. She was the quiet one, the one who never complained about the midnight kicking or the sciatica. She was also 21, and she was crowning. No warning. No fanfare. Just a dark, wet curve of a head pushing its way out of her while she stared at the ceiling with an expression of pure, animal shock.

Four girls. One room. No phones. No RA. No ambulance that could arrive in time. The snowstorm outside had sealed them in, the campus on lockdown. They had been lying to themselves and everyone else for months. And now the lie was tearing its way out, all at once.

Marley was the first to move. Not because she was brave, but because the pain was worse than fear. She kicked off her jeans and stumbled to the center of the room, dropping into a deep squat. Her thighs burned. The baby was low, impossibly low, a hot bowling ball splitting her from the inside. She had read every book. She knew the theory. Theory did not prepare her for the raw, wet tear of her own cervix stretching to the size of a bagel.

"Push," Jess hissed through clenched teeth, but Jess was also pushing. Jess had her forehead pressed to the cold floor, her back arched like a feral cat. A low, vibrating scream came out of her, not loud, but deep, like a cello string snapping.

Rachel made no sound at all. She reached down with trembling fingers and touched the head. It was slick, dark haired, and wrinkled like a walnut. She let out a single sob, then bore down. Her body took over. There was no stopping it. The head rotated, slipped free, and the shoulders followed with a wet, percussive pop that made Cass vomit into the sink.

Marley watched Rachel catch her own baby. A tiny, bluish girl slid into Rachel's shaking palms, umbilical cord pulsing like a thick rope. Rachel looked up, tears and sweat dripping from her chin, and whispered, "She's breathing." A thin, reedy cry filled the room. It was the sound of a battle won.

But Marley was losing her battle. Her squat had turned into a collapse. She was on her hands and knees now, like a wounded animal. The baby was stuck. Not sideways, not tangled, just stubborn. A second contraction hit before the first one finished, a double wave of fire. She screamed. Not a movie scream. A real one. Raw, throat shredding, the kind that leaves you hoarse for days.

Jess crawled across the floor, leaving a smear of amniotic fluid behind her. She was still in early labor herself, but the urgency of Marley's scream cut through her own pain. Jess positioned herself behind Marley, straddling her hips, and pressed her palms against Marley's lower back. "Bear down on my hands," Jess ordered. Her voice was shaking but commanding.

Marley pushed. She pushed until the veins in her neck stood out like cables. She pushed until she saw white light and the taste of copper flooded her mouth from biting her own lip. The head descended. A fire rim of pain, the infamous ring of fire, and Marley understood with perfect clarity why women in history bit down on leather straps.

"I see the head," Rachel said, still holding her own newborn against her chest, umbilical cord trailing. She shuffled over on her knees, one hand supporting her daughter's neck. "It's right there. Small. Lots of hair. One more push, Marley. A real one."

Marley dropped her forehead to the floor. Her whole body clenched. She curled around the contraction like a fist closing. And then she pushed with a force that felt like she was trying to turn herself inside out. The head emerged. A gush of blood and fluid. Then the shoulders, twisting in that strange, corkscrew motion that no textbook can teach you. And finally, with a slippery, shocking release, the whole body slid into Jess's waiting hands.

A boy. Red faced, furious, and perfect. He screamed immediately, a lusty, indignant wail. Jess placed him on the floor between Marley's knees, and Marley turned over, hauled the baby onto her chest, and laughed. A wet, hysterical laugh that turned into a sob. The cord was still pulsing, thick and primal.

Across the room, Cass had not moved from the bathroom. But she was no longer leaning. She was squatting over a pile of towels, her face a mask of concentration. Her labor had been silent, almost secretive. But now her body was shuddering, and the unmistakable curve of a head was visible between her legs.

Jess, still on her knees, still in active labor herself (her own contractions were now two minutes apart, grinding and relentless), crawled to the bathroom. She grabbed Cass's hand. "You have to push through the burn," Jess said. "Don't fight it. The burn means it's almost over."

Cass pushed. A short, brutal push. The head stretched her perineum to a translucent pink, and for a terrible second, Marley thought she would tear to her anus. But then the head slipped free, followed by a rush of shoulders and limbs. A girl. Small, silent, and then suddenly screaming with a pair of healthy, furious lungs. Cass caught her own baby, sinking back against the toilet, her legs giving out. She was crying and laughing and saying "thank you thank you thank you" to nobody and everybody.

Now only Jess remained. And she was deep in the tunnel. The kind of deep where time stops and pain becomes a landscape you live inside. She had helped deliver two babies while her own waited, and now her body demanded payment.

Marley, still lying on the floor with her son nursing instinctively at her breast, reached out and took Jess's hand. Rachel, her daughter wrapped in a sweatshirt, positioned herself behind Jess. Cass, exhausted but euphoric, wet a washcloth in the sink and pressed it to Jess's forehead.

Jess pushed standing. She grabbed the edge of the loft bed frame, planted her feet wide, and bore down with a scream that rattled the window glass. Her knees buckled, but she did not fall. She pushed again. The head descended. She could feel it, a stretching, burning, impossible fullness. She roared. A pure, feral roar.

The head emerged. She reached down with one hand and touched the wet, wrinkled scalp. She felt the tiny ear, the curve of the skull. And then she pushed one last time, a push that lifted her onto her toes, and the baby slid out in a rush of fluid and blood, directly into her own shaking hands.

A girl. Jess caught her own girl. The baby opened her eyes immediately, dark and calm, and did not cry. She just looked at Jess with that ancient, knowing stare that newborns have, as if to say, "What took you so long?"

Jess sank to her knees, cradling the baby against her chest. The room was a disaster. Towels soaked in blood and fluid. Four placentas still inside four exhausted bodies. Four tiny, mewling infants. The snow was still falling outside the window, muffling the world.

Nobody spoke for a long time. The only sounds were the wet, snuffling breaths of newborns finding their first meals, and the occasional groan of a girl shifting on the hard floor.

Finally, Rachel looked around the room at the three other girls, three other new mothers, all of them strangers to each other just six hours ago. Her voice was barely a whisper, raw and stunned.

"Cleanup is going to be a nightmare."

Marley laughed, a genuine laugh that made her son startle and then settle. Jess snorted. Cass just shook her head, staring down at her daughter with an expression of complete, bone deep disbelief.

They had done it. No doctors. No epidurals. No ambulances in the snow. Four teenagers in a cramped dorm room, and they had torn open the gate of life with their bare hands and brought four souls screaming into the world.