Local freaky writer now I guess. Birth, monsters, and eggs, mostly, but it varies… Queer/Trans/NB. 24+. He/They [ Minors DNI / Ageless Bio is a BLOCK ]
I made this blog years back to experiment with my NSFW interests and at this point it’s become my birth fetish corner. I’ve been a lurker for years, and I’ve recently started sharing my own writings!
Asks are open and encouraged! DMs are also open. Not open to RPs atm, if ever, however.
———
Some disclaimers~
🎶 This blog is NSFW, AND NOT MEANT FOR MINORS. AGELESS BIO IS A BLOCK.
🎶 This blog focuses on Birth, Monsters, and usually Dark or Painful scenarios. All my writings will be TW’ed to the best of my ability, but please keep this in mind.
🎶 I also write from a queer lense, being queer myself. Specifically Trans/Non-Binary (AFAB), AroaceSpec, etc. I do not care for gender in this kink. Anything goes.
🎶 All of this is FANTASY and anything dark, dun/non-con, etc, I do NOT condone in real life. Any play between partners IRL, like dub/non-con or more vainilla kinks, must be done safely and consensually ALWAYS.
———
Anyhow! To the main act~
WILL DO/FAVS
Birth/Labor Kink
Monster Fucking - Birth/Labor
Oviposition/Egg Laying
Breeding/Impregnation
Birth Denial
Long/Painful/Difficult Labor, Malposition, Stuck Baby, Big Baby, Multiples , Most Anything That Complicates Birth
Dark Scenarios
Medical Scenarios/Experimentation. That sort of deal
Cryptic Pregnancy/Sex During Labor (sex is not a fav or must but, sometimes)
Size Difference
Cuminflation/Creampies
Sub/Dom Dynamics/Bondage/Rough Sex
WILL DO BUT I CAN BE PICKY
Dark Scenarios. Straight up Torture or such… Execution matters a lot
Dubcon/CNC
Forced Birth/Impregnation
Hyperpreg. I do lean into it a good amount, but very unrealistic preg sizes I usually don’t lean towards. Varies
Public Birth. Not my thing, but some pieces I find do hit or intrigue me
Cattle/Broodmare/Baby Factory. Same as above
Puppyplay/Kitty/Etc. Same as above
WON’T DO
Rape/SA
DEATH/Gore/Deadly Harm to the Birthing Person or Child. With dark fantasy scenarios you push limits especially fantasy. But death? Never.
Bursting
Incest/Minors/Zoo/Necro. All that shit (Vampires, Ghosts, whatever, are fine, you know what I mean)
Scat, Piss, etc
Detransition/Misgendering/Raceplay
Ageplay
———
Some additional info~
Not everything I reblog will be stuff that completely aligns with my preferences; but it intrigued me or I wanted to remember it for whatever reason. Usually writing inspo. I’m AroaceSpec like I said and for me, that includes looking at this type of content more like. Cool concept! Sometimes.
No shade to anybody! Enjoy what you like, some things are just personally not my thing you know?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
dragons are apex predators, but they are very violent toward one another. adult males have a tendency to try to kill newborn dragons that aren't their own in order to spread their own genes instead of those of rival males. as a result, dragons are born with large horns and wings in order to allow them to defend themselves as early as possible. they have also evolved to give live birth, because being powerless in an egg is too dangerous for baby dragons. but the horns and wings sure don't make that process easy for the mother dragon.
it's incredibly common for the baby to get stuck on its horns and/or wings during the birth process. in most dragon cultures, it's customary for the father to be present during the birth in order to help dislodge the baby during these cases. however, it's taboo for anyone other than the father to help. as a result, single mothers are often left to struggle to birth unassisted. even if the father does help, it can take quite a long time for the mother's birth canal to stretch adequately to allow the wider parts through. it's not uncommon for days to pass while the mother slowly stretches centimeter by centimeter to finally allow the baby out.
Trying to sleep when you’re heavily pregnant with a monster. It’s already grown massive, way bigger than any human pregnancy could possibly be. Stretching your belly painfully tight to accommodate it, the outline of its shape visible under the skin. You can feel it constantly pressed against your flesh. Whatever parts are hard or soft. It’a nearly enough to guess what it might look like. Its sheer size alone makes it hard to manage, almost unbelievable that this thing is supposed to be an unborn baby.
No matter what position you try to sleep in, the baby gets in the way. Laying on your back seems like the natural option, but it weighs so heavy on you that you’re worried you might be trapped underneath it. It’s already so heavy that the walk to your bed was full of panting and grunting, holding your belly for support as you slowly waddled to your room. It may be a better option to just sleep while laying back.
And even if you are tired enough to sleep, the baby won’t let you. It’s far too active. Your belly bulges and stretches dramatically as the baby wriggles inside. You can hear the squelching and squishing even from outside, and what you think are growls. Maybe its movements would have been barely noticeable in something that was big enough to carry it, but your human body is way too small. You know better than to try to force it to stay still, or you’ll only make it thrash against you. All you can do is helplessly watch your painfully roiling belly, and maybe plead in vain for the baby to settle down. You squirm in place, desperately wanting to crawl away from the intense sensation, as if it’s hard to believe that this thing is inside you somehow
Fortunately, the baby will eventually stop, so you can sleep as well. When you awake again, the first thing you’ll be greeted with is your obtrusively huge pregnancy again. No movements inside for now. You get to relax for a bit until it wakes up again, as much as possible as your belly faintly gurgles its complaints about such a massive intrusion.
I'm tired with the idea of monsters getting humans pregnant. What if I want a fantasy where the monster gets pregnant? Where's my werewolves having to carry around and soothe their litter of overactive pups, or vampires needing to feed more often because of their hungry offspring?
Then you are in good company, because I love those ideas, too!  Everybody deserves the chance to get pregnant on this blog, and that includes the monsters. Â
I want to see a naga bloated with a clutch of eggs that they're on the verge of laying. An incubus carrying multiple spawn from its many partners. Werewolves are practically a given, especially if they come with large, active litters. A centaur whose horse-belly hangs low and heavy beneath them, swaying when the child within kicks its little hooves. An ogre who's been knocked up by their bugbear lover. An angel who's carrying the unexpected child of a demon. Perhaps even some pregnant tentacle monsters. Â
I want to write more monster content in general; I've just been trying not to fill the blog with it because I know it's not everyone's cup of tea.
getting fucked by a thing with two dicks is awesome cause even with only one in you, when it starts to cum and you see the cock that isn't inside you start to shoot huge ropes of cum all over you and your thighs and everywhere, and you know the other cock buried in you is filling you up with just as much cum. idk it's pretty awesome
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
big fan of rapid preg as a body horror trope, nothing you can do but watch your stomach stretch and jump inch by inch as the babies fill up your belly until they have nowhere left to go and your womb ripples with the first of many contractions promising the inevitability of your water breaking and you screaming out your baby.
thinking about the early stages of crowning where the skin is bulging out but only a sliver of the head is visible as the opening adjusts and needs time to open wider and how intense that must feel 🥴 feeling your body bulge out and open slowly with every push, moaning from intense pressure
Getting impregnated by monsters in a dungeon delving scenario is always interesting to me… Was also thinking very hard about a what if Lich preg scenario. Kinda did this in a haze, long as hell, but here we are. Also I don’t write stuffing as a fetish (nothing against it, just not my thing), but kinda, ended up doing it by happenstance here? I also am not a huge Permapreg person and it's kinda… Not exactly that? But I wasn't sure what else to tag it. Just. You’ll see. Also it may be kind of long, I don’t know what’s long for people. Should I add a word count??
———
Your party has been slaughtered after clearing level after level, unable to beat the last, and you’re now at your knees, pleading for mercy at the ruler of this monstrous dungeon.
The Lich stares down at you with merciless, curious eyes. Its skeletal form is draped in irons and cloths comparable to those of the greatest royals and knights, barely damaged by your dead friend’s efforts. Its form towers over you, as if it had been an orc, or greater creature in life. In its bones there are colored markings, perhaps vestiges of birthmarks before its undeath. It's lived a long life, seen all types of accursed magics and begging foes. It has no reason to spare you. But it's grown… Bored.
So it does, under one condition. You agree to the deal before it even spells it of course.
And you leave the dungeon alive, but with a cunt sore by the Lich’s bony fingers forcing themselves inside, shoving in magical, heavy liquids and contraptions you couldn’t quite make out; to make it worse, it forced you to swallow its magic as well, so you also feel your throat dry after having had bone forcing both trinkets and potions down it. Womb and stomach stuffed, your tummy shows a small inflated curve, as your innards pulse and groan in protest. Running your hands through your belly, your own aching flesh and the loud gurgling, sickly liquid within keeping you so bloated, you cannot feel any of the strange items resting within you. Ultimately, it looks like you have a strange stomache… Maybe you had at it with some wizard’s potions.
You put on your thickest cloak, and try to forget about it. Condolences come from others of your friends and fellow adventurers, but you refuse to tell anyone the truth. What would your fellow adventurers think of you, sacrificing your honor to let an evil like a Lich play guinea pig with you?… You don’t even dare see a healer. To get your mind off things, you have a fling, or two, or three, you stop counting. Eventually, your tummy seems to digest whatever it shoved inside you, and whatever was shoved in your womb… Gone. Things go back to normal.
At least… They should have. But how could you have known that after all those desperate, careless nights, your womb wasn’t truly empty?
———
Eleven months later, when you are sprawled over a bed of furs in your home, screaming out the first of your overdue, overgrown triplets, you think of that Lich again.
When you’d started to round up, first you had denied it. When it was undeniably with child, you were almost… Relieved. For a moment, you thought maybe that monster had impregnated you with its young. The news of triplets terrified you, but it’d had to have been one of your many flings. You hadn’t been particularly picky about species after all, or even being cautious. You moved back to your home, isolated in a small village, to grow and birth these children… Relax, perhaps become a parent, perhaps not. When your due date came and went, you assumed maybe it was because you got impregnated by one of your non-human lovers. Maybe that tall, hulking elf, or even that dragon-touched sorcerer… That had to be it.
You spend the last months of your pregnancy growing too fast, and too quiet. Yet, you don’t hunger as much as you used to, and your mind is elsewhere, as if you were in a haze. Even when your waters break and splatter on the ground, your mind can’t make the connection it desperately needs to, and you only snap to reality hours later… When you’re already stuck on your bed, your body demanding you to push.
You do just that, but it's agonizingly slow. The babes within you have just grown too big, weren’t you supposed to go to the town healer months ago?… The thought quickly fades as the pain overrides every sense. Your pelvis creaks under the pressure of the head, and the other two kick and flail, eager to escape the confines of your womb. As with a hard push, the firstborn head barrels into the birth canal, you hear a sickly crack and feel your pelvis give, but the burst of pain doesn’t come, instead, bright, arcane veins enveloping your womb’s overstretched skin in an ominous glow.
Your pelvis feels… Like it should, in exception of all the pressure barreling down it, hadn’t- hadn’t it broken? You can’t stop to wonder what the hell is going on, for your body demands you birth your baby right there and now. Hours later, as you feel your eyes growing heavier, and your uterus weaker, the babe is stuck behind your lips, your perineum bulging forwards but not opening as your body grows weaker… Your pregnant swell is overridden by glowing veins again, that wake you and your aching muscles in a magic-fed frenzy. Suddenly, it's as if this were your first contractions all over again, powerful and unrelenting.
You scream. You’ve been screaming, whimpering, sobbing. But you scream even louder as the veins don’t fade, glowing bright every time your body threatens to give up or even work against you. As the crown bursts forward in a torrent of fluids, your lips growing pale by the blood loss, that arcane glow paralyzes something within you, making you unable to push at all. Contraction after contraction wreck you, and the demand of your body to push this thing out doesn’t fade, making you howl desperately, begging this strange magic to let you push. But it won’t. Not yet.
You have no midwife… But just like one, this magic seems just as interested in letting you stretch, so that you won’t tear. You scream curses, to the gods, to the Lich, to everything, but before you know it, you are allowed to push again, and the babe’s head bursts out, making your lips stretch to their maximum capacity in a matter of seconds as the whole head passes through, and burn unlike anything before. You find some respite in your lips closing around the neck, in something much smaller, but the shoulders, wide and heavy, push against your opening much wider than the head.
It takes a few hours of more agony and those odd glowing veins around your pregnant swell empowering you to force the shoulders and even the fat body out, but soon, your first is finally born.
Your second came breech. You couldn’t even realize on your own, but you did, hours, days later, it was pushed out of your cunt. With its size, it should have gotten stuck in your hips, and stayed there. But the strange cycle didn’t allow it.
When birthing your young should have been impossible, the veins sprawled all over your pregnant globe made it so.
The third was somehow the biggest of the three. The moment you felt its head against your abused cervix, you knew deep within you no human should have ever birthed something that big. But you did, your pelvis and delicate lips somehow remaining intact.
Its been days, but its over. You barely notice when the afterbirth is pushed out of your own cunt. The veins all across your puffy, aching, empty swell glow dimly, probably keeping you awake.
But its been days. You heard no cries, and you haven’t even been able to move, to think about moving the born siblings to their bassinets. Are your triplets ok? You try to look, finally look, but… They all look strangely human. Tall and hulking, of heavy build, clearly their sire was a giant or orc of some kind, but strangely human. Though they had some strange birthmarks…
Your eyes fly open. The image of the Lich, and its hulking figure, the own marks on its bones, where birthmarks must have once been, come to your mind. And then, the triplets disappear in a flash of magic.
The months after are rough for you. They are… Lonely. Strange. You can’t explain it.
Somehow, that Lich had impregnated you… But it's over now at least.
Yet again, you’re wrong.
———
You make a mistake. Another fling. A fat, heavy singleton. You go overdue, finally giving birth around the same length, eleven months, looking like you’re carrying overgrown twins instead. Turns out you are, as the cycle of your first birth repeats anew, the glowing veins spreading around your pregnant swell, forcing you to push out the Lich’s offspring onto the world. Again… They disappear.
The third time, the cycle is the same. Eleven months, You don’t even remember the possible sire. Though this time, you don’t go overdue not by eleven, but over a year, nearing fourteen months, ending up looking like you could be carrying triplets again. As a cruel joke, you realize its but a true, singular babe within you. You take hours, days, over a week to force the gigantic baby out of your body, and although the familiar veins refuse you any harm, when it's all over, the exhaustion is so severe you can’t even stand the days after…
Finally one of your neighbors, who’s noticed your odd behavior, approaches you. He is kind, you explain you’re cursed, though nothing else. He doesn’t ask many questions, understanding this is… Sensitive. He… Helps you. For the first time in probably years, you’re not alone. Months later, he is fucking away your sorrows in your bed, groaning as his seeds floods where the Lich once dug its fingers. It was impulsive, foolish. You should have known better. The instant you notice your belly begins to round, you run. You’re not able to face him.
Eleven months later, you birth in the wilds, screaming into the night. This time, its two twins that somehow, are both malpositioned. But the cycle reigns supreme. You push them onto the world.
And they disappear, surely, to be with their true sire.
———
At least, while traveling… You grabbed a book or two. You still refuse to tell anyone of what happened to you all the way back in that dungeon. But you know that this is the Lich’s doing. No books give you the answers you seek, but your studies on their strange magics and undeath ultimately give you understanding.
You think of the Lich’s spells, of the hordes of zombies and skeletons it’d summon. Being an undead creature of bone, of course, it can’t… It can’t breed like other monsters can. But it found a workaround, cursing you to birth a horde of its offspring. Living offspring at that, as if it had bred while it was still living. But… You are a mere little human. The Lich was a giant, orc- you don’t know, but a bigger creature of some kind. The offspring you were filled with, heavy, born usually at eleven months, reflected just that. Considering that, forcing you to birth a horde would have broken you. So instead, it's hijacked every one of your pregnancies, no matter what impregnates you, until you fulfill your part of the deal. You should have listened to its conditions, but you were just so desperate to live…
Which you will. You didn’t miss in those books Liches often made the targets of their games immortal as well. So you’d live, just like you’d begged for all the way back then. Whatever magic it used on you, it wouldn’t let you die while birthing its young, and it certainly wouldn’t before you’d make good on what you owed it.
A horde could be as little as twenty creatures, to fifty, to hundreds… What if you were doomed, cursed, to birth broods upon broods of the Lich for eternity? At first, you hadn’t noticed it, but after a couple births, you’d come to notice the Lich’s gaze every time you birthed. You were keeping it entertained…
And it had an eternity to wait. An eternity that thanks to your desperation, you were now part of as its perpetually bred, just awaiting to impregnated, cursed womb.
———
After thinking about it for some time… You make your way back to that dungeon.
With this curse, there is no place among adventurers, or commoners anymore… And even though there is no creature you fear more than the Lich, and allowing it to watch you bloat with its young and worse, birth before it… Well, it wouldn’t let you die in that dungeon. And even if the Lich couldn’t breed you itself, the monsters there were always desperate for a new victim to plunge themselves into.
If the next few years of your life meant you’d be constantly birthing the Lich’s horde… So be it. But at least, you’d be free, and alive, sooner than later.
i really like it when someone is pushing so hard you can see their belly physically moving and twisting, misshaping under the strain as they struggle and groan, thrashing their head and clawing at their distended stomach. pain killing all rational thoughts and leaving only the animalistic instinct to Get. It. Out.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Just wandering thoughts this time… I see a lot of birth scenarios in medieval times, but I think there is untapped potential in the detail of being manhandled by guards. Armored guards.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel holding you in place while they force open your legs, bruising your thighs with their tight hold, opening passage for the life within you waiting to be born.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, following the orders of another, covering your contracting belly with ointments and remedies, the jagged edges of their gloved steel armor feeling like a threat against your skin.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, pressing down harshly against the top of your tummy when your baby is moving too slow, the imprints of their hand and every unnatural edge left onto your belly.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, slowly entering your hole to feel for a head or how much your cervix has opened.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, cruelly entering your hole, to claw your amniotic sac broken, and force things along.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, gently trying to stretch the skin around the crowning head, ever so cautiously, but not even the cold touch is a relief against the ring of fire.
Armored hands, covered in cold, sharp steel, forcing your legs shut, refusing you the respite of birth and the babe within you to crown.
These are just a few snippets I thought of but I’m sure there’s many more you could do… I also focused on hands, you probably can get funky with armored figures handling a birthing person in general?
And considering how guards are well… Lackeys for royals, kings, whatever, there’s a lot of potential in medieval and fantasy scenarios especially honestly. Especially if you add monster fuckery into the mix, or some other factor that makes the person run away from the law or a royal. Which I see a good amount? So, this came to mind kind of. I don’t know if anyone resonates, but go crazy with it if you want idk lol
Thoughts on being egg bound? I personally love when it’s just a little bit too big
So I've been knocking this concept around mentally since you sent this and finally found a coherent way to answer
I adore being egg bound. As much as I love an egg that's just a touch too big to lay easily and the carrier requires constant attention and massage to help ease it down, I've lately been obsessed with the idea of a monster who needs a host for his eggs but can't find one and becomes egg bound as a result. The poor creature desperately needs somewhere to deposit his eggs because he hasn't been able to release any into a host in weeks and they're starting to back up. Without a suitable host his belly is starting to bloat and ache from the sheer amount of eggs he has stored up.
Reminder that if you follow me without any age markers in your bio, that is a BLOCK. I put as much in my blog bio.
I don’t want to exclude people or need anyone’s exact ages (I have a 24+ for a reason, I prefer being vague online), but I will not risk minors getting in my space if I can help it.
A pained yelp escaped my throat and my tail flagged in a desperate push as you pulled the second squirming puppy out from between my trembling legs, quickly getting to work on drying the newborn and setting it aside in a basket with its previously born sibling. This was the second litter I've ever birthed for you, and like last time, you were intent on having me whelp as quickly as possible so you could get me knocked up again with next season's show prospects.
I writhed in my pile of blankets, shifting onto my side and whining painfully as you probed my large belly for the positioning of the next pup. An ultrasound had showed six mid to large size fetuses crowding my womb, so with two delivered, there was four left to go. I panted as your hand palmed my swollen breasts, massaging and pinching each nipple along my abdomen. Doing so encouraged my contractions to return, and I whined loudly, gritting my teeth as the urge to push again rose.
You forced my leg open and inserted your fingers inside of me, commanding me to "Push, push, push, goooood dog." And I obeyed, crying out as I bore down, tail arching, raised leg trembling. You were able to feel the pup, and grab hold of its front legs in my birth canal. You massaged my belly and applied counter pressure as I pushed again, trying in vain to squirm away from your touch. I wanted so badly just to give birth quietly in a corner instead of being rushed through the process, but you don't get that luxury when you make your owner the most money only while pushing out puppies.
Another strong, painful push with your assistance brought the pup to a crown, and I panted as the large head slowly bulged and stretched my cunt. You tugged on the puppy's front legs again and I pushed on reflex, birthing the head in a rush of fluid. Another insistent tug and I bore down once more, the rest of the puppy being delivered with a desperate shove. All I could do was sit there and try to catch my breath as you cleaned the third pup and united it with its siblings.
I whined and shifted uncomfortably onto my back, letting my legs flop open to the sides as I labored for a few more moments. You soon returned, massaging my womb once more and inserting your fingers into my cunt to feel for the next pup. "Give me a push, dog." You ordered, and I strained hard as a contraction ripped through me. "Good mutt, push again." You spoke firmly, and I obeyed, howling in pain as you found the pup and tugged on it, trying to force me to whelp quicker. I pushed desperately, my belly visibly contracting and legs shaking as I fought to birth your litter, following each command to bear down. The fourth pup's head bulged behind my sore lips and you tugged again. I cried out as the head was born into your hands. "Last push, come on dog." You snapped. I didnt get a chance to process it before you were forcing me to push, pulling the pup's writhing body free from my puppy cunt. Just two more to go, and I'll be promptly knocked up again to repeat the process.
I’ve been haunted (positive) by the idea of a US college football player knocked up by his coach… The coach finds out one of his players is trans and needs to try boypussy for himself, establishing a ritual where the night before a game he has the player suck him off and then cums in his tight little cunt. He’s not trying to knock the kid up, exactly, but when he sees the fabric of the state uniform stretching over that belly, he’s filled with pride.
It takes the player far longer to realize what’s going on. He falsely believes T is birth control, and he’s been trying to bulk up, so he just believes he’s finally putting on some much-needed weight and doesn’t think much about it. By the time he realizes his coach put a baby in him, he’s already too far along to do anything about it.
Humiliated and scared of jeopardizing his sports scholarship, he goes to great lengths to hide it, eventually starting to bind his belly. It’s excruciatingly painful and hard on his joints to force his growing baby deep into his body like that, especially on the field. He’s getting so sloppy and slow and tired that he hopes Coach will just bench him, but Coach takes too much perverse joy in watching him struggle through each game.
And of course the player will end up going into labor on the day of a playoff game. He tries to tell Coach he isn’t feeling well, but with a thrill, Coach tells him to muscle through.
But he can’t deny nature, and ends up falling to his knees in the middle of a play. Timeout is called, and by the time the medics arrive, he’s collapsed onto his back with his legs splayed wide. He’s making desperate animal sounds and clawing ineffectually at his belly, leading one of the medics to discover his belly binder and start to undo it. Finally his belly heaves free of its confines, a veiny, bulbous growth that looks grotesque jutting off the frame of a slim college boy.
Even the cheap seats can see the curve of his pregnant gut tense into a hard, sharp shape, and if that left any doubt as to what was happening, the Jumbotron displays a high definition feed of the sopping wet spandex between his legs beginning to bulge.
His teeth clench and his face scrunches as he digs his fingers into the backs of his thighs and pulls his knees as far back as he can, a grunt grinding in his throat. The stunned medics watch the seam of his uniform bottoms stretch as he pushes harder, making no move to assist. It’s only his strained wheeze of Getthemoff! the prompts one of them to shove their hand under him and pull his waistband down his ass and over the bend of his thighs, revealing the straps of his jock framing his puffy, domed pussy.
His rock-hard belly softens, and the tension trembling through his body gives way to gasps as he releases the push. He tosses his head weakly and moans, “Is it out? Is it out yet?!” and falls into agonized groans when the medics tell him that they haven’t even seen the head yet.
By now the team is crowded around him, including the coach, who casually rests his clipboard over his lap, concealing that he’s the hardest he’s ever been in his life.
The medics try to move the player onto the stretcher, but he screams, “Don’t touch me!” when they try, so they have no choice but to sit back and watch him labor unassisted. His slow halting progress fills the Jumbotron, showing his bulging perineum and flared asshole, the lips of his cunt beginning to peek open at the height of every push. He keeps sobbing that it hurts, it’s too big, he’s gonna tear. But it only gets worse, the contractions getting closer and the dome between his legs growing bigger and bigger.
His tight cunt lips stay snug around the head of his bastard, his fat boyclit jutting up as everything between his legs is displaced. But finally, with a push that turns his face purple, the head moves enough that even when it inches back inside him at the end of the contraction, there’s still a perfect teardrop of hair visible.
His eyes snap wide, chest heaving as he struggles for breath to wail, “My pussy, my pussy, my pussy!” Coach’s cock twitches as he commits every detail to memory, from that pretty birthing cunt to the sweet rasp of the player’s voice.
The contractions come faster now, scarcely a minute between them, and the player only grows more hysterical between each one. “No, no, it’s too big!” he screams, with his lips only opened to reveal a small disc of the head.
The next several times he tries to push, he ends up flinching and trying to close his legs, though squeezing his thighs together only shifts more of the pressure towards his asshole, making it bulge and pulse dangerously. The medics end up grabbing his legs and pinning his knees back against his shoulders, and he shrieks as the shift eases the head forward, his taint and cunt lips stretched several inches away from his body as they struggle to open wide enough for the head, his jock almost cutting into his skin as the straps stretch around his birth.
“I can’t,” he sobs, “I can’t,” but it isn’t his choice. The next contraction comes, and he can’t help but push, body curling and thighs shaking, nothing but a high wheeze audible in his throat.
Finally, he crowns. He immediately stops pushing with a shriek, fruitlessly fighting to close his pried-open legs. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck! Get it out!!! Get it OUUUUT!” He tries to keep pushing, but he’s too weak to budge it without the help of his body, only succeeding in inching the crown just far enough forward to stretch his boyclit nearly flat.
“My clit!” he screams. “My clit! My clit! I’m tearing!!! Get it ouuuuuUUUUUUUUUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
A contraction hits in the middle of his cry, and his shrieking breaks off with a sharp peak of his voice as the huge head of the coach’s bastard bursts out of his abused boypussy in a gush of fluid. He falls limp with a cry, his whole body shaking. As his head lolls, he happens to catch a glimpse of the Jumbotron, and cold washes over him as he sees the massive high-definition image of a baby’s head hanging out of his cunt.
He doesn’t even quite process that it’s him until he feels the urge to push, and winces at the shoulders twisting inside him as he watches the head rotate on the screen. “That’s coming out of me,” he rasps. “Oh my god. Oh my god, it’s coming out of my pussy. It’s coming out of m—hhhhng!”
The urge to push overtakes him, and with a thin grunt, he shoves out both shoulders. He winces as he feels the rest of the slimy body tugged out of him, then numbly raises his hands to take the strange purple being when the medics hand it to him. He looks down at it, and the only thought he can hold in his head is a bewildered, That came out of me.
And for many nights to come, Coach will cum to the thought, I put that in him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
When your Naga lover laid but a single egg in you, instead of the typical clutches of tens… You found it odd.
Well. You weren’t a lover, in truth, you were nothing but a test subject to them. They just happened to prefer to stuff you with their own ovipositor and eggs for their studies. Thinking of them a lover just made things… Easier.
To make it stranger, it was a big, heavy egg, which they shoved through your cervix in punishing fashion. But like usual, they gave you little explanations of what they wanted to test on you this time. So you resigned yourself to incubating this big, singular egg.
Over the following couple months, when it rapidly grew so big you looked full term, clearly ready to be laid… It wasn’t enough.
They refused to induce you, no matter how hard you begged.
When your heavy, overdue body, finally started to tighten with contractions… It wasn’t enough.
They forced you swallow a strange pill that stopped any contractions. This became your routine, for weeks, the egg within growing even faster, making your skin litter with even more stretch and flush a grotesque red; quickly make you appear like you’d been bred with multiples. Maybe… The monstruos doctor was putting something in your food. You didn’t know. But you quickly realized they wanted the horrific weight to hatch inside you.
Yet, when it finally did, your heavy, abused tummy distending as it moved from within in bursts, amniotic fluid sloshing and coiling tails and limbs battling within… It wasn’t enough.
That’s when you learned that in very rare cases, an egg could carry multiples. And you’d be one lucky, miraculous clutch, as three Naga snakelets now squirmed for space within your womb. But… In these very rare cases, those multiples were often small for their species.
And that just wouldn’t do. The Naga scientist would only allow their offspring to be birthed when it was properly grown, strong and healthy.
You cried, seeing one of their hands hold on to the bottle of labor supressants, feeling the other move over your abused, overgrown womb, already overtaxed for months now. And it’d be by many more, until it was satisfied. No matter how much you plead and cried that they were growing too big, that you’d never be able to push them out.
But you would. Your body belonged to the Naga, and every single one of their whims.
They’d had stopped you and your aching, punished body from expelling the gargantuan egg, and they were doing the same for those three snakelets, making your body hold them still. So when they finally deemed their brood ready to be born, they’d make sure you push those babes out onto the world, no matter how scared or unprepared you’d be.
And you would.
There is no other way this can end. And as much as you are dreading forcing three, monstrous bodies through your hips… Deep down, you know there is no other way this can end for you.
