“Hmmm” After tossing and fidgetting all night, Rosie sat up in bed. “Oww.”

“What hurts, honey?”

 "Ahh.  My back.“  Devin carefully peeled her shirt up and placed his hands on her expansive lower back.  "Here?”

Devin considered her pale face, taunt orb of a belly, and protruding navel.  He might be in for a show today, and he would make the most out of it,  "It’s nothing, honey.  See how we do after breakfast.“

Rosie knew from past experience that there was no point in argueing.  Devin sat back and watched from behind as she gathered herself on the edge of the bed, belly resting between her spread thghs, then pushed herself to her feet nusteadily.  Her wide-legged walk to the door said a lot about how she was feeling.  In the doorway she paused, unconsciously rubbing the bottom of her belly, and groaned.  He heard her huffing and as she made her way carefuly down the stairs.

Coming up behind, he watched carefully as she waddled to the kitchen.  Pause, supporting herself against the kitchen counter for another contraction.  She poured herself a bowl of cereal and made it to her seat before another contraction hit.  He could see her fingers curl in pain on the kitchen table as she tried to not betray any emotion.  She ate mechanically, steadying her breaths.  Halfway through she seemed to give up, sinking lower into her seat and rubbing the sides of her belly.  She steeled herself and picked up her spoon, powering through the second half of the bowl between deep breaths.  

When it’s time, its time.

They’ll come when they’re ready.

You say this to your family and friends constantly, even when your arms wobble as you struggle to push yourself up from your chair. When you have to sit sideways at the dinner table to eat because your belly is starting to distance you from your plate. When you’ve hardly left the house because too much walking has you winded. The doctor says you’re on bedrest anyway, you tell them. You don’t need to be out and about so much, it’d be bad for the baby.

him softly purring 'you like these hips, huh?' between moans when he knows damn well that all you can muster in response is a series of gasps, huffs, and 'oh fuck's

'you know what they're so nice and wide for?'

and he stops and leans in right against you, lips brushing your ear and whispers

'so i can have lots and lots of your babies~'

the pastor's husband, known for being so pure and chaste before his marriage, some even calling him a prude, now with a huge belly so full and swollen with his 19th child, his husband proudly showing him off before the congregation as a shining example that all the other boys should aspire to - a fertile belly burgeoning from his robes at all times and always so eager to follow his husband's preaching and keep bearing more children

the rugged boy who gets accidentally pregnant one time and manages to make it through with no one being the wiser, everyone suspecting it's just a beer belly - after all, he just doesn't seem the type to get pregnant! - but just a few years down the line it turns out he's kept getting pregnant the whole time, now constantly sporting an undeniable big belly full of babies with a gaggle of about a dozen kids following behind him at all times, his brood growing by the year - and much to everyone's surprise, he doesn't seem to want to slow down anytime soon

the grumpy punk boy who's always been so mobile, so feisty, always undertaking some radical project, always with a disdain for domesticity - until he meets someone and gets knocked up, that is. he doesn't let pregnancy slow him down and still stays hard at work getting into trouble, but as time goes by, that pregnant belly of his becomes a staple and he's never seen without it. with every passing year comes a new litter of babies added to his growing family, and his personality begins to soften soon enough along with his previously lanky body, now voluptuous with fertility. he still tries his best to organize the community and retains his original fiery spirit, but he's certainly quite preoccupied with his brood of 15+ that only continues to expand and his huge belly that has long since filled his lap and outgrown any of his leather jackets and torn-up tops - these days, hardly anyone can believe he's that same boy who once upon a time claimed to have such a distaste for pregnancy

Now a responsible owner would let you rest and recover until using you again. But you don’t want to be owned by someone responsible, you want to be used as a puppy mill for as long as you can, and it’s so hard to resist being bred when you can’t even flee.

If you’re lucky, you’ll eventually have your hips grow wide enough to keep your legs in place, so you have a chance of actually saying “no”. If they don’t… all I can say is that it’s very fortunate you crave being kept bred, pregnant, and full for the rest of your life.

Then you start showing, and in return I show you my true nature. Collaring and caging you once you start to swell with our litter. Forcing you to eat and live as a dog, food and water from machine-made bowls, sleeping on cushions of plastic and foam, separating you from every wild fiber of your being. No matter how hard I push you and no matter how hard you resist, you always give in after enough food and sex, and just as you finally become something close to loyal pet, you whelp.

Afterwards, I leave you uncollared long enough to run away, but after so long you have forgotten your old self. The litter and taming left your body different, each step lacking the grace of a noble hunter, only haphazard steps scaring your prey away. The nights by a warm fire inside makes the forest seem frigid instead. An existence confined to one property leaves your memory of where to go in these woods foggy and confusing.

Before long you return, properly broken in, ready to be used again, and again, and again. Until you can scarcely remember a time you weren’t full of one of our litters, or recovering from the last.

Taking you from that forest will have been one of the best decisions I ever made, for now I keep you as my own. Forever Bound, Forever Beautiful, Forever Bred.

weeks go by, then a month, then two... i still havent told them. now i'm just playing a game to see how long it takes them to notice. i start wearing baggier clothes, fucking in the dark, politely declining offers to smoke and drink. claiming i'm just on a t-break.

🪼

God, he pauses for a second and I figured he just needed to give his gravid body a break - I could feel how heavy his belly felt resting on my back, my children heavily active inside him; fucking me as hard as he was, as far along as he was, hasn't been easy on him lately, but he was determined not to let my hole go unfucked. He'd been especially rough today, almost like he was angry about something, and I loved every minute of it.

But he gives a small grunt, then a yell, and suddenly I panic.

"I think my water just broke," he says in a ragged, panting voice, but he half giggles as he says it, and when I turn to look at him he's looking back at me with a devilish grin. He flips me down onto my back, his pregnant belly looming over me, and brings my hand to it to feel.

"How long have you been in labor?"

"Ha! I've been having contractions on and off all week. Just wrote it off. You know I have a high pain to-"

He grunts again and I feel his belly tense beneath my fingers. I start to get up, but he immediately shoves me back down.

"Oh I'm not done with you yet. In fact," he unbuckles his strap and throws it at my face, "Go fetch me the big one." I gape at him, and he pushes his belly seductively against me. "Gonna stretch you out while your baby stretches me out. Sounds fair doesn't it?"

I begin to protest, but he interrupts me with another loud scream. He then glares at me with wild eyes.

"I didn't ask. Go get it."

I do as I'm told, weirdly turned on by the whole thing; when I come back he's doubled over panting, rubbing his belly, but the minute he looks at me it's that look that lets me know he's not going to stopped by something as insignificant as giving birth.

"Fuck, you really did fill me good, didn't you? Gonna return the favor. Now get your cute ass over here."

cue to two months after their first baby is born and he’s looking down at a positive pregnancy test. he’s hasn’t even lost much baby weight at all and he’s already knocked up again!! he sighs and puts away his pre-pregnancy clothes back into the closet because he knows he’s not gonna be fitting into them for another year at the very earliest. and he of course is bigger faster with the second baby because your second pregnancy, you’re always bigger earlier! but not only that, this baby is just bigger in general for some reason.

his bf is just as obsessed as he was during his first pregnancy, but maybe a little worse than before because holy cow how hot it is that he got his boyfriend knocked up again so so soon after the first time, and his hips are wider and he might even get a little too big for his maternity clothes. he’s soooo heavy and feels like he’s been pregnant forever so on his 22nd birthday, overdue with their second with their first bouncing on his hip, he’s telling his bf that he’s NOT doing this again for at least a couple years.