It's been some time since I've swam through these waters. I have a backlog of fics written for myself that I thought maybe others could enjoy. New to engaging with/discussing kink in an online space, but am curious.
I am:
Leo
25+
trans-masculine (he/they pronouns)
Taken 💜💚
Very new to writing!
Feel free to expand on ideas/writing that I share here, through msgs or comments.
Casual online presence.
More interested in being bred than breeding, but definitely not opposed.
I wont respond to DMs from ageless accounts!
This is an 18+ blog obviously, geared toward fellow queer folk. Here, I'll be sharing some writing and maybe some illustrations/animations if I get bold enough. Engage how you will, lurkers welcome. Minors pls DNI. Most of my writing contains these kinks, including but not limited to:
Impregnation (breeding, mostly mpreg & nbpreg but some fpreg, hyper, lactation, oviposition, etc!)
cum-inflation
CNC/Free-use/somno (engage with at your own discretion)
Monsterfucking in all its forms~
Mind-break/hypnosis
Biological purpose
Some fluff, mostly smut
Kinks and topics I don't really engage with/write about:
incest
birth/birthing
age-play/underage anything
Misgendering/detrans
anything sexual with dogs/animals
probably more I can't remember atm
I'll try to tag things appropriately, if I miss anything pls lmk!
P.S. - Everything I share/write here is fantasy. I love breeding and stuff, but do not want to ever actually be pregnant. Everything outside of this space and with real people is kept separate from the content here. Gender roles are fabricated, everyone deserves bodily autonomy, and I won't tolerate bigotry on my blog.
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Re: that ask about preg denial until it becomes noticeable in a humiliating moment
During my early 20s and ever since starting T, my body has changed a lot in many ways. Starting as a skinny little boy, I slowly grew into a hairy dude with some pretty nice muscles, thanks to hitting the gym frequently. These changes boosted my confidence immensely, which resulted in me getting absolutely wasted at any local queer party in existence to celebrate finding myself and my life path. Of course, as I reached my mid 20s, all that regular partying took a toll on me, as life generally did. The hungover got more intense, sometimes leading to feeling nauseous on random days, my back hurt more often, and I seemed to have developed some stubborn indigestion issues, resulting in a bloated, bubbling belly. I just figured I had finally achieved a little beer gut (that blended in smoothly with my pecs) and went on with my life.
I was in the middle of an important job interview one day when a sudden muscle spasm made me flinch slightly. I got some surprised looks but played it off, hoping nobody would think anything of it. My belly slightly straining my button-up was already embarrassing enough for me. While I was answering questions with a professional smile, I absently rubbed my belly below the table, noticing how nice and calming it felt.
That's when I felt something like a tiny kick against the palm of my hand.
I froze and almost lost my words, but tried to keep going like nothing happened. But I was panicking on the inside. What the hell was that??
As the interview ended and everyone got up and shook hands, I felt it again, this time at a different spot. I searched for a nearby toilet and closed the cabin door behind me. As soon as i had unbuttoned my shirt to reveal my bloated middle, I felt it again - and this time, I saw it, too.
Something slightly poked my belly from the inside, causing the skin to form a tiny bump that quickly traveled across above my belly button before disappearing again.
pinned down onto the bed might be the best position ever. she sinks her entire weight onto you as she sinks her entire cock into you, literally using her whole body to get every inch in, while you're forced to just struggle underneath her. she decides when to get off of you, no matter how many times you cum while your face is pressed into the pillow and your ass is pounded into the mattress. haaaa and she laughs as you beg her to stop cause you can't stop cumming.... calls you cute and adorable and so tight too..... kisses your neck as she rocks her hips balls deep.... growling in your ear and cackling when you instinctively freeze and go quiet..... such good prey hole.... dreamy sigh.....
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.
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i love the idea of breeding like wild animals. you’re not fucking me for either of our enjoyment, you’re using my cunt to bring yourself to orgasm and fill my womb with cum. you’re fucking me for the purpose of getting me pregnant because we’re in heat and need to follow our instincts to create the next generation. just use me like a breeding bitch please <3
pro tip: breeding feels good. it feels good to be bred. raw sex is the best, most natural kind of sex. you will feel deeply satisfied once you are successfully bred.
you know what i always think about?? someone’s big hands gripped tight around my hips, jerking me back on their cock over and over, fucking me like their little personal toy..
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.
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Fucking a trans guy raw and just getting lost in pleasure while he milks my cock. Suddenly i’m growling and deep inside him and about to come. We both don’t want to be parents...but I can’t help it. I’m shooting deep inside him and pressing down his hips, rubbing his chest, down to his belly. Imagining it swelling out and shuddering as the last of my seed hits his cervix
His eyes go wide as he feels your resolve, the new effort you're putting into your pleasure. "No... No, stop, you can't!" He starts to squirm under you, trying to pull away, to shift so that you slip out of his entrance. You're too firm, too committed to fulfilling your need using his body, whether he wants you to or not.
"Oh God, oh god no, no not like this, please no..." He starts pleading. "We said we didn't want kids. You said you were ok with that. I could... It could happen. Right now. You promised you wouldn't, that you didn't want to!" You feel yourself tensing, tightening. Can feel your children surfing up from your balls, into your shaft. It burns, aches, your body about to send your burden into this handsome boy's uterus...
He's pushing at you, struggling. "I don't want this! I can't handle it, I'm not kidding! I have nightmares about this happening, please, I'm begging you!" The desperation in his voice, knowing how much your seed is going to force his body to change... It was too much. Even if you still wanted to hold back, you couldn't. Not anymore.
Pinning his shoulders to the bed, you pressed deep and groaned in absolute satisfaction. Letting one hand trail down, over his flat chest, feeling all his body hair as you got lower. Down to his belly.
As he starts to cry you drink in how masculine he looks, how he effortlessly passes day to day. At work, with friends. You're one of the only people in his life that even knows he's trans. And now... You've undone so much of that work. Only a matter of time before he's showing. Before his belly begins to swell out of control, straining at his clothes.
"Oh God, oh god... No, I can't, I can't do this. This can't be happening..." He's muttering, almost to himself, his voice deep, tears running down his cheeks and into his beard. "I won't take. I've been on T too long. You didn't just get me preg... You didn't do it. I won't have to live like that. It's not really happening..."
You walked in on him fighting his pants. Walking up, kissing his forehead, cupping that area just above his public mound. It was barely pressing out.
You didn't say anything as he began to get nauseous in the mornings. Nor as he became fatigued all the time. You didn't point out how firm his middle felt after a couple months.
"You're gonna give birth for me, hon." You whisper, almost growl, and he trembles at the certainty in your statement. "You're having a baby. You're pregnant. A handsome, sexy pregnant man-"
"No I'm not!" He snapped, pushing you away. "I can't be! I can't! I told you I don't want it, ever. It can't be happening. It isn't! I'm not... Not..."
His eyes became watery. You stepped in again. Held him. Cupped his baby bump once more. "Pregnant." You said, smiling, delighting in his struggle even if you knew you shouldn't. "Pregnant. You're pregnant. You're really pregnant. Say it for me..."
He relaxes. Clings to you even as he smacks his fist into your shoulder. "I don't want it..." He whimpers, breaking down. "I'm a guy. I'm a man. I'm just one of the guys, I can't have a baby. I can't be pregnant. I can't just waddle around in front of everyone. What the fuck am I going to wear? What am I going to say? How am I going to... To have it? God... God, fuck, I don't want to have it... I'm so scared. It's not fair. You did this to me even though you knew I didn't want it..."
The handsome man choked back a sob. "Fuck. No. No, I'm not. I'm not. It can't have just happened like that, it's not fair..." You stroke that firm bump, knowing it's just going to get bigger. "Say it... Say you're pregnant. You're having a baby. You're going to open your legs and push for me like a good boy. You're going to give birth. Your pretty vagina is going to spread over the head of our baby, whether you want it to or not..."
You gently shushed him as he cries, words failing him. You knew this would hurt. You knew this would trigger at least a few aspects of his dysphoria, badly, but you knew that when you did it. You didn't care then, and you don't now. Even in his despair he's so handsome. So sexy. It made you feel amazing, know you'd done this to him. That it was your baby inside that body. That it was all your fault that his pants didn't fit anymore, and it was only going to get worse...
You helped him take a test. He broke down again when it was positive. And again when the doctor confirmed it, with an odd look at your boyfriend when he did. It was clear what he was thinking. How he felt as he did the ultrasound, the awkward, stilted speech every time he had to say "Mister" or "Dad-to-be". You could see the mistakes and awkwardness hitting your partner like blows, but you couldn't deny how good it felt, knowing it had been your choice to make home endure this.
You bought him cute shirts, knowing he would hate them. A pink number that said "Seahorse Dad!" A black stretchy T that read "Bun in the Oven!" A pride flag print with "Trans, Pregnant, and Proud!". You'd have given anything to see him wear them, but he refused, as you knew he would.
The poor guy's clothes got tighter and tighter. His belly wouldn't stop growing, and each day you had to fight the urge to moan in delight when he struggled to undo the button, or more often, the pin holding his pants closed, and he just let out a sigh, his baby belly released and pressing out from its confines. The daily struggle just to dress masculine for work was breathtaking, watching him fight to button and close and tuck, without it only emphasizing how obvious the pregnancy was becoming.
He could barely look at you in bed. You loved stripping him. Exposing him. His hairy legs and arms... His flat, fuzzy chest, nipples now large and darkened... His round baby belly covered in soft hair, thinned with how much more space it now had to cover... You would spread his legs, fighting the urge to gasp as you saw how swollen and prominent his T-dick was now, how puffy his vaginal lips were... Pushing into him felt amazing, and he clearly hated how much he loved it. He would wrap his legs around you, panting, crying out, but still not looking at you. Eyes closed, urging you on, as you enjoyed every perfect, unfair concequences of your lust taking over and changing the body he'd worked so hard for...
The day came that he couldn't hide it anymore. His barely buttoned, inappropriate Hawaiian shirt still exposing a strip of skin at best, and if he shifted wrong his increasingly obvious outie. It was impossible to miss or deny.
But you didn't say anything, letting him go to work like that. He called you at lunch and said he'd had to explain to everyone that he was pregnant. Tell his boss he'd need maternity leave. He'd tried to get paternity leave, but his boss had chuckled, shook his head. "That's only for the Dad, not the M-... M-mister who has to birth it. Right. It's why it's so much shorter!"
He'd never felt so exposed, so ashamed of his own body. He came home early, curled up in your arms even though it was all your fault he was like this. He desperately needed comfort, and you were happy to provide.
It only got harder. Nothing of his old wardrobe fit now. He had to go to his job in the humiliating maternity shirts you'd been buying. He tried to cover up with hoodies and sweaters, but it was simply too hot for that. He came home deeply upset most days, random strangers touching his belly without asking, asking when he was due. Telling him how proud he must be to be a mommy.
You tried to make a birth plan, but he couldn't do it. The idea of a baby coming out of his vagina was too much, he'd have a meltdown any time you tried to discuss it. He said he didn't want to keep it, and that was fine by you. You were getting everything you wanted out of this, watching his baby belly swell his masculine frame, seeing the struggle of his body changing against his will, all because of you. You knew it was messed up to delight so much in how hard this was for the poor guy, but there was a beauty to it you couldn't deny. You'd decided he should be like this. You'd made the choice that he should become a pregnant man, even if he didn't want to. So now he was. And it was all your fault.
In the end, it was the two of you. He was laboring in front of you for hours, moaning as he rocked back and forth, whimpering that this wasn't fair, that he didn't want this to happen. You just responded "I know, hon. It doesn't matter what you want though... My baby is coming soon. You're gonna give birth, isn't that exciting?"
He tried not to say anything else, not liking how much you're delighting in this struggle, but as it got worse he couldn't help himself, desperate for comfort and reassurance, which you gave in excess.
Before too long he was naked, on his back, legs spread wide for you. You could see the vagina you'd filled nine months ago, saw the thick, stiff T-dick being angled up as he pushed, his crotch starting to bulge. The pressure was making his member throb with his heartbeat, and it took your breath away. This man was having a baby. He was pushing your baby out of his vagina and it was all because of you. You got a man pregnant and now he was having a baby. It was so unfair, so natural, so perfect.
His body undercut his words. Another contraction cut him off, and he had no choice but to push. You watched his lips strain, then part. You could see that boy pussy opening wide, just as he had seen in his nightmares. "IT BURNS IT BURNS!!! ITS COMING OUT OH FUCK I CAN' DO THIS, I DON'T WANT TO HAVE A BABY!!!"
"Ohhh god make it stop make it stop it hurts!!!" He cried, gulping in breaths as you tried to hide your arousal. "I can't do this! I don't want to have a baby!"
It didn't matter what he wanted. You'd impregnated him, and that was enough. The only thing that mattered. Your baby was being born from this trans man, you'd created a life inside him and now he had no choice but to reward you for it. He wailed in agony, voice deep and masculine, toes curling as he gripped the floor. It was agony for him as the head crowned his slit wider and wider. "Please don't make me do this!"
There was nothing you could do even if you wanted to. And you didn't. This was everything you wanted. You had already decided you needed it to happen again, even if it ruined his life. You needed this man to become your beautiful, perfect baby factory, even if he despised every single pregnancy you forced him to endure...
"It's coming OOOUUUTTT!!!" He wailed, pushing with all his might as the head slid down and out of him, the shoulders coming quickly after. A masculine, quick, powerful birth, shuddering and crying as the rest of the body slid free.
You took the newborn that had just slid from the handsome boy who's life you changed forever. He wouldn't look at it or you. Clearly doing this had felt even more awful that you'd hoped. A violation of not just his body, but his identity, for nine long months.
You promised to be more careful, that he'd never have to go through this nightmare again.
In five months he was crying over another positive test...
woman doesn’t think she could be pregnant and doesn’t have any symptoms so she only realizes once her belly reaches the point of obvious pregnancy and the baby starts moving. the whole time her belly was getting bigger and bigger and she never noticed because it was just by a little each day.
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.
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imagine getting pregnant at a party while drunk. maybe outside behind a bush or in a restroom. somewhere slutty where everyone knows what you did and jeer at the both of you.
then months later when you’re really showing people who were there ask who the father is and you have to tell them they know just as much as you do about the guy, while one hand absently rubs the belly where his bastards are growing inside your already overextended womb.
Forcefully bending you over as soon as we get back to my place and the door shuts behind us. Ripping your clothes off you, tossing aside your belongings, your purse discarded on the ground, your clothes strewn about. Slapping you roughly when you protest or lamely try to resist. Pulling your hair while forcing my dick inside you, my fingers stuffed inside your mouth, my other hand groping at your ass while I desperately and needily fuck you. I couldn't wait any longer, darling. I just needed to be inside you. You feel so fucking good.
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