Distended Dome’s

(Birth Denial Ask Game)

A horse boy working on a huge ranch gets called into the boss’s office one day. He already knows what it’s going to be about; he’s been falling behind on his duties. A head shorter and probably a hundred pounds lighter than the stallion guys who work the ranch, he can’t hope to keep up with the workload. Where they’re all glistening muscles and endless stamina, he’s twiggy and tires easily, still as ungainly as a foal.

So, he enters the boss’s office with his ears back and his tail twitching in anxiety, expecting to be fired. What he doesn’t expect is for her to have his employee file open and start asking questions about his pedigree papers. His face warms as he confirms that, yes, he comes from a breeding family. He tries to tactfully cut off any ideas she has about him having some massive stud cock, but she waves him off, saying that yes, yes, she knows about his “situation.” He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard his pussy called a “situation” before, and he doesn’t know why it makes him squirm in his seat.

Finally, she offers him a transfer to working in husbandry. Grateful to still have a job, he signs the new contract without asking questions—a choice he regrets when he reports for his first shift in husbandry and the boss tells him to pull his pants down. He’s thankful that the breeding bench she straps him into faces away from her, keeping her from seeing his welling tears. He has to bite his lips to keep from sobbing in humiliation when she presses a high-powered vibe to his pussy.

She wrings four orgasms out of him in minutes, leaving him trembling and overstimulated by the time she forces the tip of the insemination gun into his cervix. He screams and jerks, the velcro restraints creaking as he instinctively tries to escape his fate. But he’s already signed his womb away, and he must endure the discomfort and nausea as it fills with so much semen that his slim belly bloats a little. With a jovial pat on the ass, the boss unstraps him and tells him to “keep his rump up” for ten minutes, then clean up and meet her in the stables.

As he lies there, catching his breath through his sniffles and waiting for some stranger’s cum to impregnate him, he has to reflect on how much sense it all makes. After all, if he can’t be a useful workhorse, he might as well make one, right? He wonders if the sample might have come from one of his coworkers, and his tender pussy clenches. Trying to forget the violation of the insemination gun, he imagines what it would have been like to be bred by the handsome Percheron who used to help him when he’d fall behind, whose jeans always strained so tantalizingly over what must be a gorgeous stallion cock.

But a cramp flaring in his cervix brings him back to reality. This isn’t some paperback breeding fantasy. This is his job. It’s not going to be sexy. In fact, it’s probably going to suck.

The morning sickness proves him right by hitting hard and fast, leaving him feeble and gray-faced for the first few weeks of his new position. Because he’s not just a breeder, no—he also actually has to work husbandry with the animal horses. Luckily the husbandry supervisor takes one look at him and relegates him to foal watch, which consists entirely of sitting with full-term mares and radioing someone more qualified when they’re ready to foal. It’s excruciatingly boring, but considering that he’s exhausted just sitting there, he’s grateful that he doesn’t have to do any real work while this pregnancy takes so much out of him.

In no time at all, his clothes grow tight against the swelling curve of his belly. He spends most of his days shyly tugging down his shirt when it rides up, but soon everyone expects to see a strip of stretch-marked tummy peeking over his jeans. The ranch provides big, branded sweat sets with nice, roomy elastic, but even those end up riding apart within a few more weeks. Despite keeping his head down when he walks around the ranch, he can feel everyone’s eyes on his exposed tummy.

At only 6 months, he looks ready to pop, having to walk with his hips swayed forward and his shoulders thrown back to account for the massive bump hanging off his slim frame. The child is heavy—and strong, too. It kicks so hard that people can see from across the room as the whole shape of his belly distorts around its powerful limbs. He can often be seen groaning and rubbing at the mottled flesh, wincing as his hands pass over the purple patches where his unsightly varicose veins have broken from the commotion inside.

In the coming weeks, he wakes up bigger every morning. He’s sure he can’t possibly be growing as fast as it seems, but the increasing pressure in his pelvis and the strain on his joints confirm it. His legs shake under him when he walks, hips forced so wide that he constantly fears they’ll pop from their sockets. His ankles are so swollen that it looks like he’s wearing leg warmers beneath his sweatpants. He doesn’t waddle so much as shuffle, unable to decide if he needs a hand to support his back, or if both of them need to be under his belly. His silhouette reminds him of a photo he once saw of a woman carrying triplets, bump jutting like an oblong watermelon out from under her shirt. He might be even bigger than that.

His boss doesn’t tell him much about his own pregnancy, and by his 30-week checkup, he’s started to worry that she didn’t bother to inform him that he’s having high-order multiples. Nervously, he asks how many foals he’s carrying. She happily confirms it’s only one, and his stomach drops, such as it can, realizing only now that multiples would be preferable with a belly like this. He asks how that can be possible when he’s so big, and she tells him that’s what a belly looks like when it’s got a 25lb foal in it!

Chili paste, and other spicy foods cannot only mess with your tummy, but also really dry out your throat. Milk usually helps with that, but I imagine the boy will have ran out of milk eventually. And with labor finally kickstarted, and a gurgling mess of a stomach on top of it well… He’s probably not thinking about drinking some more, lest he makes the mess gurgling within him a thousand times worse.

If it’s a truly unlucky day for him, perhaps he’ll go through precipitous labor, but by the time he realizes his contractions are coming far, FAR too quickly… Oh. He actually drank all the milk already. And all his groans and whimpers have made his throat even dryer, painful and aching; a sensation he’d missed due to the contractions and swelling ravaging his burning insides, not to mention, the flailing of the overgrown child within, which as much as he tries to keep in place, kicks and writhes relentlessly, making him nauseous. He was so overwhelmed, he hadn’t been able to stand, much less realize he’d lost his voice.

His body will be demanding he pushes very very soon, and… What if something happens? What if the terrible weight in his pelvis isn’t a head but a foot, or his overdue, heavy baby gets stuck? Trying to call for help is impossible, and even if somehow somebody finds him, he won’t be able to tell them what is wrong…

Making a boy eat a bunch of these like communion wafers

You make a point of coming by as often as you’re able, until finally he’s so round that his uniform doesn’t fit, a rubber band keeping his pants on and the stretch-marked flesh of his belly hanging past the hem of his shirt. You spend several hours pretending to work as you hungrily watch him struggle behind the counter, the burden you left in his womb rendering him unable to reach cabinets or lean over sinks, and making him an obstacle to everyone else working. When you spot him pausing to wince and grip his belly more than once, you know it’s time.

The cafe staff have started leaving in pairs to prevent anything from happening again. But that’s not a problem for you. You’re already waiting at his house when he gets home. You overwhelm him easily. Still disguised, you ignore his begging to know what’s going on as you start to tie him up. You practiced these knots on a mannequin over and over, so even with his struggling, you tie the harness on him flawlessly. It criss-crosses around his contracting belly and his engorged tits, which you take your time appreciating, but what’s really important are the ropes crossed over his puffy cunt.

Soon, he ceases struggling as labor demands all of his energy. He keeps appealing to you, excessive babbling pleas at first, then hoarse sobs between pushes. Then, the beautiful moment you’ve been waiting for. Either he doesn’t remember the harness or thinks he can circumvent it, because he grunts lowly and keeps pushing. You watch, mesmerized, as the ropes strain around his bulging cunt lips, and the head of the baby crowns. For a second, you think you left too much give and he’ll be able to get it out. But as soon as he stops to gasp for breath, the ropes shove the head back into him. He thrashes his head and wails in agony.

It’s all you ever dreamed of.

He screams with increasing horror that he needs to give birth, he needs the baby out, and you just nod. He’ll get to push it out when you’re done with him. Not that you would ever be done with him if you could help it, but you will have to leave for work, eventually. Still, that’s Monday. Now, you’re spending an unforgettable Friday night watching a boy try and fail to scream out your rape baby. His belly seizing, his face nearly purple with the strain, his cunt bulging so beautifully around the head… Fuck, it’s going to be a good weekend.

(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.

Reupload of one of the first commissions I ever made, for @monkasss. Mpreg birth story, what's more important, push your baby out or try to not lose the videogame you're playing?

If anyone would have even tried to tell Mark that he would spend his first year of college massively pregnant, he would have laughed his ass off. Bending over and clutching at his stomach while crying type of laugh.

But here he was, pregnant. 

He did his parents a favor, after all, there was no better way to show how grateful he was for everything his parents have done for him than being their carrier, right?

He wasn’t too sure at first. He was young and had a bright future in front of him, but his parents gave him a solution for all the possible problems: as long as he were pregnant, he could stay at home and he would be treated like a king. He could try some sort of hybrid college modality, alternating between on-campus and virtuality, if the pregnancy was too much to just show up to class.

And, most important for Mark, he could be pregnant without having to take on the responsibilities that came with it after the fun part was done. 

Because for Mark, the fun part was everything he ever wanted: he wanted to feel his belly swell, tight and packed with life, watch himself grow and go through all the changes that pregnancy meant. He went from having that athletic frame, the trademark of a hot college boy, to having a huge belly resting in front of him, a chest now full of milk, heavy and sore, and everything that he already had, pregnancy made it better. 

When he found out he was carrying a single baby, he was disappointed. He hoped that his fun could be duplicated or even triplicated, having multiples sounded like the apex of pleasure to him.

Double the price, double the fun.

As his body changed and his belly started to swell, gravid and full, he was, indeed, treated like a king at his own home. But the treatment he got from his parents was the least part he cared about, Mark was infatuated with his pregnancy. 

Everything felt amazing. 

Morning sickness? He only had to bear with it for a few days. 

Pregnancy made him glow and it seemed like every little sensation was intensified now. Every part of his body was sensitive, from head to toe, and he knew how to make the most out  of it. 

The skin stretched and tight over his belly, how sensitive his chest was, how sensitive everything was. He got a whole new vision of how good belly rubs could be... and some of the best sex of his life.

Mark fell in love with not only everything that was happening on the outside, but also on the inside, feeling the baby move and kick inside him. Even if sometimes it would only mean kicking at his bladder or killing him with lower back pain. 

So he just sat down and grew, enjoying himself more every day until he finally had a nice, firm and swollen belly resting between his open thighs. The moment Mark would look down and face a huge mound of flesh, the moment he was unable to close his legs without it being so uncomfortable for his belly, the moment almost all of his clothes stopped fitting, that was when he was sure that it was all worth it.

If anyone would have even tried to tell Mark that he would spend his first year of college massively pregnant, huge and bloated, with the weight of a baby on his hips and almost constantly pressing against his prostate, it wouldn't have surprised him.

If anyone would have told Mark that he would be giving birth on Thanksgiving eve, laying on the floor of his bedroom with a videogame on pause on his TV, now that would have surprised him.

Mark lifted his hips, swinging them in the air trying to relieve some pressure. Under him, his belly pressed and rubbed against the carpet of the floor, sending shivers through his spine every time his belly button touched the fabric. 

It was all happening so fast, contraction after contraction striking his body as Mark felt the head of the baby starting to make its way down his birth canal, pressing against his prostate.

His parents had left early in the morning, and Mark assured his parents that the cramps he had been feeling were just Braxton hicks, nothing to worry about; he was right there on his due date, but it was nothing to worry about.

When the occasional cramps became more intense, each wave coming faster and stronger than the one before, Mark still thought he had time. 

Five minutes more of playing and he would consider calling his mom. 

And then five minutes became ten and ten turned into fifteen, Mark squirming on his seat and huffing under his breath, trying to get comfortable with the weight that was getting lower and lower on his hips. 

It was too late when his water broke all over the chair, leaving him sitting on his soaked trousers and with a baby coming now.

A whimper escaped Mark's lips when he felt the head starting to stretch his hole, his ass throbbing painfully as he pushed. The head was applying pressure right to his prostate, every push he gave sent a wave of painful pleasure through his body. 

His eyes squeezed shut and groaned as another contraction hit, his fingers brushing all over the skin of his contracting belly to try to ease some discomfort, but failing miserably. 

The baby was slowly beginning to move, pushing, and Mark was pushing back. His body was telling him to push, but as much as he was doing so, Mark didn't feel the baby move at all.

"God, fuck!" Mark whimpered through another contraction. "C'mon, baby...!"

With a groan, he lifted himself from the floor, his belly hanging naked and so low in front of him now that he couldn't see his knees. With one last heaving effort, Mark pushed through to get himself to a squat. 

His hands reached to grip the armrest of the chair, and Mark pressed his chin hard against his chest as he pushed, his face turning red with effort.

One, two, three times, Mark gritted his teeth as he pushed. The head moved a bit, bringing a burning sensation to his hole as it started to stretch around the head.

"Fuck...fuck...fuck..." he muttered, his fists clenched around the armrest as Mark let out another cry.

His forehead was damp with sweat as he tilted his head back, looking up to the ceiling above him. The baby was right there, about to get to a full crown.

His fingers curled tighter around the armrest as he let out a loud moan, whimpering as he felt the baby's head push against his prostate, and then he pushed again. A gush of amniotic fluid came out of him when the head began making its way to his anus; Mark was completely unprepared. 

He grunted and tensed as he tried to keep his balance, the head pushing out of him, sliding down and stretching his opening with every push. 

Soon, it only took a few more pushes until the whole head was out. Mark threw himself forward to fall on his knees, shaking legs buckling underneath him as he pushed out the rest of the body. 

There was an instant of bliss as Mark closed his eyes for a second, breathing heavily and letting the relief sink in his body.

He lay on his back panting for a moment, the crying baby resting against his agitated chest. 

some of your last couple posts have been stuck in my head, specifical the ones wear grian is scar's mate but carries the eggs, pups or anything else of another person.

specifically hotguy having cuteguy carry preemie babies to term and not letting him push them out until the end of their patrol. people have probably gotten used to cuteguy waddling around during patrols as you mentioned hotguy also using his womb the store gear, and maybe it's given some villain's a few new jabs they can throw out while fighting. or maybe Cuteguy was carrying more babies than normal and his water broke pretty early on during the patrol, but towards the end there's a bit fight with a villain that's going to drag out beyond the end of the patrol, and they'll have to stay even longer after the fight to make sure any damage to the surroundings didn't hurt anyone, and say hello to all the fans that are just desperate to get a photo, signature or glimpse of their hero's

OOOO

Lowkey, I forgot I wrote that

In my defense, I write at midnight, and I was half awake

Anygays- Yesss omg all of this!!!

Cuteguy is also super hero, it makes sense that the rest of his body has aspects that are a little super natural. Cuteguy loves helping citizens, and Hotguy loves to tell him how cute he looks waddling around during patrol.

He can still remember the first time Hotguy had done it to him. They were visiting the hospital, and a doctor told them about their very unfortunate situation of a preemie baby. Hotguy immediately offers up Cuteguy. The avian is surprised and tries to explain that maybe that's not a good idea and it's not safe. But Hotguy is already pulling down his pants and knocking his legs open. The hero scoops up the tiny baby and pushes it up into Cuteguy's womb. Just as Hotguy suspected, Cuteguy's body is quickly treating the baby like he had grown this child inside him for 9 months. There's a bump, and the baby squirms around in his belly. Cutguy whimpers at the new foreign feeling, but at least he's helping.

It becomes a habit after that. They visit hospitals together, and Cuteguy lays down for the babies to be placed inside his womb. Hotguy loves to admire Cuteguy's pregnant belly. Whenever they're having a sneaky fuck during patrols he likes to tell Cuteguy he's going to knock him up for real one day. Cuteguy always cums at the thought. He just wants to be the perfect hero and sidekick. It always made him so happy to know he was doing well.

Now for his water breaking and it post poning the birth. Cuteguy will definitely panic, but only mildly. He ducks down while the villain attacks Hotguy and reaches between his legs to feel a soaked patch. He can also feel the growing desire to push. But he doesn't. He forces himself to his feet to keep fighting. He feels a head slide down, pressing at his pussy lips and he quickly shuffles his legs closer together. When he next has time to hide, he can feel the baby's head slide out further, so he takes the head and pushes it back inside him. It's hard to fight when contractions are so painful and his legs shake so much. Hotguy wants to get Cuteguy out of harms way because these babies still have homes to go to after all.

Once the fight ends, Hotguy checks on his partner, making sure Cuteguy is ok. He watches Cuteguy try not to cry, squirming in place. He makes his thighs part and watches as a baby's head makes the crotch of his hero suit bulge. He places his hand between Cuteguy's legs and pushes the baby back up into the womb. Cuteguy gasps and cries, begging Hotguy to take him to the hospital. Instead, he's made to talk with fans and oress as contractions tear through him, and sweat rolls down his face. The babies kick up a storm in his belly, and he watches the camera keep moving to film all the movement his very pregnant belly. It's so hard to stand. He wants to push the babies out so badly, but Hotguy just hugs him and places his hand under his crotch so that he'll hold them in a bit longer.

When he finally gets to the hospital, Hotguy caresses his belly and pushes his pussy lips apart with his fingers. He watches the first head crown, pushing on Cuteguy's belly to help get the baby out. Grian gasps and cries, trying to make the pain stop. Hotguy wants to help his poor sidekick, of course, so he strokes Cuteguy's clit to help with the pain. Cuteguy passes out from the dual sensation of pain and pleasure.

When Cuteguy wakes up, he finds Hotguy already getting ready for patrols again. He slaps Cuteguy's pussy then starts to put gear up inside him. Cuteguy's belly bump quickly comes back as more gear is placed inside him, making him cum a few times.

he starts off about an hour from home. he wears a belly binder under layers of baggy clothes to hide his belly, and it works well. no one but the android knows. he’s very serious and dominating over the android, always calling the shots and always determined to do things his way, even as he leads them through the winding maze of concrete with a cervix dilated to eight centimeters. the android follows obediently, scanning his progress constantly (which he has no idea about). eventually, when he’s starting to truly flag, the android suggests a shortcut.

they lead him down into the maintenance alleys and around in circles until he can’t help but duck behind a dumpster and push, the android looming over him, and he finally begins to understand that he’s no longer in control here. he’s lost now, after following the android, so he can’t just leave them. he’s too rigid to even take his pants off in front of the android, and has to feel his vulva bulging to its limits in his pants as he squats on the dirty ground. the android is endlessly fascinated by the bodily urges of an organic being, and how even sentients who create these great cities can be reduced to a sweating, heaving, grunting, desperate mess like this. the android watches him push frantically for a while before hauling him to his feet and forcing him onward.

they take him to the monorail, saying they’ve had their fun now and this will get them home. he has to force his legs closed as he stands on the platform and waits, the android behind him, snaking their arms around him and up and down as they please, knowing he can do nothing to stop them in his state. they lead him onto a packed car once it finally arrives at the station. there’s only one seat left. the android takes it.

he has only two options. he can stand and try to keep his grip on the hand holds, or he can take the android’s hint. they pat their lap, offering it up as a seat. the monorail ride is always rough. he’ll take his chances with the droid.

he only has time to straddle their thighs and sit facing toward them as the monorail lurches into motion. his body weight presses his swelling pussy into the firm synthetic thigh of the android, and he almost gags. the baby is pushed back in and then held in place, his subsequent desperate pushes pointless. the android grinds their thigh into his crotch, reducing him to overstimulated tears. despite his thick, throaty grunts and clear distress, no one around them pays much attention to the duo. no one but the android can really hear him over the clack and screech against the rails.

poor thing, the android coos. you must be feeling so much pressure. they place their hands on either side of his belly, pressing gently, driving him mad. the baby has nowhere to go, with his pants still on and his weight resting on his crotch, at the top of the baby’s head, against the android’s thigh. all be can do is clench his knees together and spread them apart in alternating moments of desperation. luckily, the android knows just what to do to give him some relief.

their hands reach up under his layers and his eyes widen as they grip the clasps for the belly binder, releasing the tight garment. his belly surges forward, the swell of his twin pregnancy undeniable now as it strains against his oversized layers. he lets out a choked off cry of surprise, but it quickly turns into another grunt as his body begs him to push his baby out again. he’s helpless to resist his urges, trying to lean forward and angle himself better so that less of his weight presses his crotch into the android’s thigh and he can make some progress.

an announcement calls out over the monorail car. their stop is coming up. the man feels a wave of relief washing over him — he’s almost home, to his safe place, where he can finally give birth in peace. then, he remembers the dozen levels of stairs between him and his apartment. his heart sinks and panic squeezes him. the android gives him a sadistic smile, knowing what he’s finally remembered.

don’t worry, they tell him, i’ll help you get up those stairs. wouldn’t want you to fall and hurt your babies, right? i’ll wait for you while you stop to drop into a squat and push every few steps we climb. i’ll make sure you get home safe.

is giving birth in a library anything chat...

A poor sub going into labor with a baby much too large for their little frame in the back corner of a dead silent library, trying to muffle their noises as the baby comes barreling through their cervix and into their birth canal.

Maybe their dom left to go get food or just dropped them off, but whatever the case, they're on their own trying to give birth in the corner of a library until they come back for them.

Only for the librarian to pick up on the noise and be pissed someone is breaking the rules and being noisy in THEIR library! So they storm over there right as the baby is crowning in the poor subs pants, stretching their entrance out so much that their skin has gone pale and translucent, only for the librarian to grab the skull of it and begin shoving it back inside the sub.

The sub goes to scream but is quickly met with a hand to their mouth, "Shut up-" The librarian would hiss, "You're already being a nuisance."

As soon as the baby is back inside their battered canal, they're dragging the sub to their feet and into a back room, tugging off their pants and underwear and stuffing the birth fluid soaked underwear in the subs pants. "Now maybe you'll be a little quieter. Stop being such an inconvenience."

Maybe even the librarian ties the sub up so they can't move, then leaves them to give birth alone, unable to change position or do anything other than push and push until their dom gets there and rescues them.