Idk

Oh, you can whelp as hard as you need to, pretty boy, but this hand isn’t going anywhere…

But… I… can’t… stop!!!!

(A request for anon that donated to my short-lived ko-fi. Thank you king 🙏)

This got me thinking of a classic medieval knight… When he’s inducted into the royal guard, his agreeable personality and keen sparring instinct make him an instant favorite among the other knights. So, it’s no surprise when one of them invites him to his bunk to blow off some steam after a long day patrolling; without much time for romancing maidens, it’s not unusual for the knights to find release with their fellows.

What is unusual is the tight, wet pussy between the new knight’s legs, and the perky little tits that bounce so cutely on his chest when he arches his back and groans to be fucked harder. Word spreads quickly through the barracks, and soon all of the guardsmen are flocking to him, aching to try him.

Our knight ends up heavy-eyed and sleepy during his long patrols, but the others cover for him—after all, they know it’s their fault he’s so poorly rested, since he spends most of his off-duty time pressed between the firm, sweaty bodies of multiple men. Especially after a battle, they often spear him open on two cocks at once, his head bouncing limply on one of their strong shoulders while he whimpers and jerks with the latest in a countless number of orgasms.

His fellow knights are gentlemen, of course, and always pull out, even washing him clean after they stripe his belly and thighs with their seed. But with so many needy, dripping cocks fucking so deep into him, it’s only a matter of time before a slight swell appears just above his hipbones, and he shyly confirms to his questioning lovers that his blood has ceased coming.

The barracks buzz with excitement, musings about who sired the child going quickly by the wayside as each one finds himself caring for the pregnant knight as if he were their husband, and his womb ripening with their own seed. Even those that are at first skeptical of a man bearing a child come around when they lay their hands on the tiny curve of his belly for themselves. As far as anyone is concerned, the child belongs to all of them.

At first, the evidence of the knight’s pregnancy is nothing but a palm-sized bump, detectable only by his most intimate partners. But soon, his growing womb fills out the tunic that was once loose on him, not yet eye-catching, but certainly visible to those who care to look. His chest, too, begins to prepare for the child, tiny tits rounding into tender breasts that must be squeezed into the confines of his chain mail. When his fellows help him out of his armor at the end of a watch, several helpers always stand by, ready to massage his aching breasts, or knead his burdened back, or press their face into his swollen pussy until his tense joints hang pleasure-limp.

His armor seems to grow heavier at the same rate as his womb, his joints straining beneath the combined weight. He struggles, too, to fulfill his duties while so much of his vigor goes straight to forming the babe in his belly. When one day he finally succumbs to his delicate condition and collapses near the end of his watch, the captain of the guard—who has gone to bed with him as often if not more than most of the other guardsman—has him moved to guard the throne room.

Standing on his swollen feet all day still exhausts him, but outside of the occasional uncomfortable shifting as his body aches and his child moves, he draws no attention to himself there. His armor manages to conceal his pregnancy even as his time grows closer—though he imagines the blacksmith who fashioned his cuirass chose its barrel shape to provide empty space for absorbing the impact of enemy swords, not as a vessel to be packed tight with a pregnant belly and milk-swollen breasts. It’s a tight fit, forcing his gut high enough that the child shifts backwards, a strain on his lower spine. They don’t take well to the limited space, protesting with sharp kicks that pinch the wall of his belly against the armor. He longs to rub soothing hands over his bump, but he wouldn’t dare do such a thing while on watch, even if he could reach his belly through the metal.

As the weeks pass, he keeps distending, his child a foreboding point of pressure deep in his pelvis. His belly begins to droop low, and he can’t keep his hands off the raw, stretched skin, scratching at fresh stretch marks and wincing at the growing web of tender veins. The other knights handle him lovingly, often appearing behind him to hold up his belly for a few minutes. In bed, their affections grow gentle, and the pregnant knight becomes accustomed to strong hands caressing his aching breasts while someone’s hard cock grinds ever so gently between his legs, not quite inside him, but giving his clit more than enough friction to have him cumming with a mewling cry.

Finally, he wakes one morning to a great pain in his gut. He screws his eyes shut and clutches the tense surface of his belly, trying to breathe through it without waking his bedmate. When it passes, he rouses the other knight, who helps dress him for his watch. When it comes time to lift his belly as high as he can and compress it against his body so that he can get his armor on, he clenches his jaw and pants through his teeth. His lover, waiting with the cuirass at the ready, asks if he’s okay. He says he will be once he’s dressed.

But that isn’t the case at all. His belly barely fits in the armor anymore, forcing the baby in and down until a terrible pain envelops his pelvic cradle, far worse than his daily aches in these last months. The head of his child feels so, so low.

He prays that the babe will wait to come until his watch ends. In response, another contraction lances through his belly and into his lower back. He barely swallows back his whimper.

But he must fulfill his duty.

Do you want one of your friends to be there with you as you strip down, open your legs, and push like a handsome soon-to-be-dad? Or do you try to hide that a baby is about to come out of you, hope you can just give birth unnoticed and rejoin the group once the placenta is out? Or do you try to drive home anyway, and accept that the head might end up filling your boxers and pants once you pull over on the side of the road?

Hmm, what a scenario indeed 😏

I'd like to say..how about a mix of all of them?

I'm sitting there with friends, everyone is having a good time and I'm forced to stay where I'm seated and watch because getting up and down now is to inconvenient and a struggle with how heavy and low my belly sits. I was told I wouldn't be due for another few days, but just as my friends start a new activity I start feeling my womb start to squeeze itself to start pushing the life inside of me out. My friends notice that I seem uncomfortable but I just tell them it's nothing, braxtons just been kicking my ass and it's fine. They believe me, continue what their doing and now and then having me chime in. I have both hands secured on my bump feeling it get tighter under my fingertips holding my breath as contractions come over me in waves.

I feel my body trying to tell me to push but I do everything in my power not to, sweating and panting in short bursts to keep myself from falling apart. One of them can't keep themselves from fussing about my condition, checking in on me and asking often if I'm sure I'm alright. I try to tell him yes, but he isn't buying it anymore. He tells the group that he's going to go help me lay down for a moment, just to get a little rest, the reminder of the group waves us off and tells me to feel better soon. He has to support me all the way to the spare bedroom, asking me what's really going on. I finally cave, the pain and pressure all becoming to much for me to bare and I finally tell him I think I've gone into labor.

He starts to freak out, telling me he'll take me to the hospital, but I stop him before he can reach the door again and tell him I don't want to ruin the get together. A contraction takes me over again and I finally allow myself to react, bracing myself on the bed next to me and doubling over with a hand splayed on the front of my belly. I tell him I can't wait and need to get it out now, I tell him I could feel it pushing its way down and I have to give birth here and now.

He helps me get my pants off, and when they finally are I'm squatted down and digging my nails into the sheets next to me as I push though the next contraction. He kneels next to me, hand between my legs almost a little awkwardly and eyes fixated there. He tells me he can already feel the head, and I just need to push.

Though gritted teeth and stifled moans of pain, it all comes out of me in only after pushing a few times. It was ready to come out a while ago, just inching closer and closer with each tight contraction of my womb..but I didn't listen to my body and forced myself to hold back. My knees go weak and I fall back, my vision hazy from exhaustion and pain, and the friend who helped now holds the new life in his arms as I recover for a moment.

Party gets a +1 surprise member once we come back

the situation becomes more apparent the closer you get to the abandoned car— the engine is still running, keys still in it, and deep, throaty groans and frantic screams are drowning out the sounds of the beeping ignition

"hhhhhnnnnngggghhhh- hoo, hoo, gotta p-pushhhhhh!"

you run the rest of the way, reaching the car just as the passenger slide door slams open. the occupant of the seat has their arm draped over the headrest, nails digging into the upholstery as their other hand struggles to pull their shorts down past their hips and thighs. their head is thrown back as they roar with effort, the bulge of the emerging head making a distinct tent in the crotch of the spandex. "mmmmph, burning! o-ohhh, hooo." they inhale deeply as their belly visibly spasms. "o-ohmygod!"

"imgonnahelp," you explain in a rush, words jumbled by a mix of adrenaline and arousal. they dont acknowledge you beyond a simple nod, too busy grunting as the head begins to stretch out the area between their legs more and more.

together, the two of you manage to get their shorts down just far enough for you to see what's going on, and your eyes grow wide as you watch their lips begin to gape in earnest, turning white and bloodless around the width of the skull. "it's coming!" you announce, giving them a shaky smile as they grab behind their thigh and shove down hard.

"crowning!" they yell through gritted teeth. "hoo, hoo, h-holy fuckkk. hnnnnnng!"

"head's almost out!"

between their legs, the skull had crowned to the widest point, stretching them beyond what you had ever thought possible. you could hear the voices of help in the distance, but you werent going anywhere. fluid trickles out around the head and down the birther's legs, and you lick your lips in anticipation, eager to see what would happen next.