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BUILD A BIRTH VOL. 2 - now with birth denial options!

🤰 female

🍼 human

2️⃣  Twins

🏠  home

🩲  tight clothing

🙇  all fours

⚡ rapid preg/birth

It had been a long, amazing night, and Ella hadn't wanted it to end. She had stumbled home at an ungodly hour, fighting out of the thigh high boots she'd gotten (a thousand) compliments on all night and refused to check exactly what time it was. It had been her best friend's birthday, which meant she'd dressed to the nines. The gorgeous, expensive leather shorts she wore were practically a second skin and molded perfectly to her ass, meant to pair with those painful thigh high boots and the strappy top she'd been adjusting all night.

2 / bed / 4 (extremely slow) / painful > Agonizing / No help / bath > bed / on side > squatting / Head first > posterior / Brutal > impossible / Second (you, female-minded)

Two for one

Word count: 1060

You woke up a few times during the night with cramping in your massive belly. Each time you tried to convince yourself it was just some Braxton hicks and went back to bed. That was until an unusually bad one had you gripping the sheets and crying out. When it was finally over, you made an attempt to sit up. It was quite the struggle with your massive belly and swollen breasts holding you down. With a bit of time you eventually managed to get yourself resting against the pillows.

Your contractions came and went through the day. Each one was getting more painful than the last and closer together. You found it harder to time when you could get up to use the bathroom or grab food. Each time you’d think you’d make it but a contraction would force you to lean against the wall in order to stay upright. 

Now it was nearly dinner time. You’ve been laboring all day and are exhausted. At some point you managed to move from the bed to the bathroom. Where you’re now clinging to the tub and fully screaming through your current contraction. 

she falls back onto the bed and grabs hold of her thighs, pulling her legs back towards her chest as she frantically bears down, eager to get her birth over with as quickly as possible so that she can get back to the experience of watching her sub. "just... need to get it out." she grits her teeth and shoves, the naked swell of her belly pulled so low and taut that it blocks the sight of her bulging cunt.

"y-you've been pushing?" they cry, twisting against their restraints so that they can get a clearer view of her without the obstruction of their belly in the way. "don't- hnnnnngah-ah- don't rush it like that! you'll tear."

she shakes her head, rising up on her heels and bringing one hand down to cup her gaping vagina. her perineum bulges into her palm as she inhales and pushes again, and she grunts as she feels the lips of her pussy slowly start to part. "just let me do it. its- fuck, its coming anyway. cant stop it."

her sub stares at her with wide eyes, caught off guard by seeing her so uninhibited. so animalistic. she looks both frantic and determined, bearing down with gravity as the unrelenting urge to deliver the baby consumes her. "crowning," she announces through gritted teeth, skin flushed and dripping with sweat. "just... just breathe for me, 'kay? i'm almost- hoooo, almost d-doneeee."

they do take in a deep breath, momentarily distracted from the stinging pain between their own legs as they watch the sight happening between hers.

"one more," she mumbles to herself, head slipping just past a full crown. her hand trembles around it as she provides as much support as she can, body powered by pure adrenaline. "just one more- p-pushhhh."

the slide of the head's emergence is slow, and she feels every bit of the burn as the lips of her cunt stretch around the head. "get... out," she roars, throwing her head back as her hips jut forward—the head pops free in a burst of fluid, dangling between her thighs just for a moment before a final push sends it sliding onto the fluid soaked sheets beneath her.

"okay," she mutters, giving her wailing infant- a daughter, much larger in size than the rapid nature of her birth would have suggested- a quick once over. "okay, okay. I did it."

Your first birth is orgasmic. You're so excited for the second, but then it ends up being the longest and most painful experience of your life.

Or the opposite. You're so scared for your second birth, more than you were for your first, because now that you've done it once, you know how hard it can be. But then the day comes and it's the best experience you've ever had.

A first birth that's calm, serene. Not easy, but intimate, you're in control of it. Maybe a home birth with your partner. And then the second birth ends up happening in public, completely not what you've planned.

On the way home from work, something changed. A man, older, stronger, pulled me onto his lap. His hands were rough, his breath hot in my ear, and his intentions... I didn't know what they were. I didn't know what was happening to me. But fear had taught me silence, so I remained quiet as he did... whatever it was that he did. After it was over, I stumbled off the bus, my body feeling foreign and violated, but I pushed the confusion deep down, tucking it away with all the other things I didn't understand. It hurt but I liked it. I could tell it was wrong but I wasn't sure why.

Days turned into weeks, and my body began to change in ways I didn't understand. My belly grew rounder, my chest more sensitive. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, a sticky mess between my legs. When the whispers started at work, the sly glances, the snickers, I had no idea what they were talking about. But I knew it was about me. I tried to hide it, to ignore it, but the evidence was written all over my body, in the way my pants didn't fit and the way I had to lean against the shelves to relieve the pressure in my lower back.

My reflection in the mirror at home was a stranger's. Breasts grew where none had been before, swollen and tender. They leaked a strange white fluid that I thought was a sign of sickness. I didn't know about periods or pregnancy, the lessons of womanhood had passed me by in the school of hard knocks. The pain was intense, and I felt so alone, so utterly lost in the chaos of my own flesh.

As the months dragged on, the weight in my belly grew heavier. It was like I had swallowed a watermelon whole, and it was slowly expanding, taking over my entire being. I tried to ignore it, to keep my shifts at the grocery store, to keep my head down and push through. But the pain grew sharper, the discomfort more pronounced. My once loose work shirt was stretched taut over my swollen stomach, the fabric straining against my skin. The whispers grew louder, the stares more blatant.

The man from the bus had taken something from me that night, something vital and confusing. He had planted a seed without my consent, and now it was growing, thriving in the most unwelcome way possible. I touched my belly, feeling the firmness of it, the way it had changed from the flat plane I knew to this alien landscape of curves and swells. The skin was tight, almost painfully so, and when I pressed down, I could feel something moving inside of me, something alive. It was terrifying and fascinating all at once, a silent dance of life that I could never have anticipated.

My body had become a battleground, a canvas for something I didn't ask for. My chest felt heavy, the new breasts aching with a constant, throbbing pain. They were a betrayal, a constant reminder of what had been done to me. The white fluid that leaked from them was thick and sticky, and I'd often find myself wiping it away in disgust, wondering if this was normal. Was this what it was like for the girls I saw at the store, with their perky breasts and knowing smiles?

The nights grew restless as my body began to change in other ways. I'd feel a sharp pain in my lower stomach, a cramp that would bend me over, making me gasp. I'd double over in the stockroom, clutching my belly, and when the pain passed, I'd stand up, wipe the sweat from my brow, and pretend everything was fine. I'd seen enough of the world to know that asking for help was often a fool's errand, especially for someone like me.

My boss called me into his office one night. He was a gruff old man who didn't tolerate much, but his eyes were filled with something I hadn't seen before: pity. He told me I needed to take some time off, that I couldn't work like this. I didn't understand. He handed me a small stack of cash and told me to take care of myself. I nodded, took the money, and left without looking back, my heart racing and my eyes burning with unshed tears.

That night, I laid down on the bed, my belly pressing against the stained comforter, and finally let myself cry. The tears came in a flood, soaking my shirt and pooling on my stomach. I didn't know what was happening to me, but I knew it was wrong. Why was my body doing this to me?

The days passed in a blur of pain and confusion. The cramps grew more intense, and I could feel something shifting inside of me. I didn't know what it was, but it scared me. The thought of going to the hospital made me want to retch. I didn't have insurance, and I was afraid of what they'd do to me. Was this something the cops would help with? I had no answers, only fear and the deep, gnawing pain that seemed to never leave.

One evening, the pain became unbearable. I stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, my eyes wide with terror. My belly was now massive, stretched to the point that I could see the veins beneath the skin, a map of blue lines crisscrossing the mound of flesh that was my new reality. The skin was taut and shiny, and the sight of my once-flat stomach now a round, bulging mass filled me with dread. My breasts were heavy, the nipples dark and pointed, the areolas swollen and sensitive. I didn't recognize myself anymore.

I was a mere skeleton of my former self, with the extra weight all concentrated in my midsection. The reflection staring back at me was that of somebody I didn't quite recognize, but the face was still mine, a young man's face, filled with fear and confusion. The stark contrast between the two images made me feel like I was looking at a monstrous parody of myself, a cruel joke played by fate. My shoulders were thin and bony, my arms stick-like as they supported the weight of my new, unwanted form.

The pain grew sharper, more insistent, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I was about to face the consequences of that night on the bus. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it was coming soon. I lay down on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. My body was no longer mine; it had been hijacked by something inside me. I was nothing more than a vessel for something I didn't understand, something that had been forced upon me without my consent.

As the night grew darker, so did my thoughts. Panic set in, my heart racing as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. I had no idea what to do, no one to turn to. I'd always been on my own, but now, in this moment, I felt more alone than ever before. I could feel the pressure building, a primal instinct telling me to push, but I didn't know what I was pushing for.

A sudden gush of warm fluid flooded my pants, soaking the bed beneath me. I stared down in horror as the wetness spread, my mind racing. Was my belly full of fluid? Was I dying? The pain was unbearable now, a constant pressure that seemed to be pushing me to the brink of madness. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it was time. Time for what, I wasn't sure, but the urgency in my body was undeniable.

With trembling hands, I managed to take my pants off. They slid down my legs with ease, a stark contrast to the tightness that had become my daily struggle. My underwear was soaked, sticking to my skin, and when I peeled it away, I saw that the fluid was tinged with blood. My stomach lurched, and a scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. I had never felt anything like this before, and the sight of the blood only served to amplify the terror that was already coursing through me.

The contractions grew stronger, and I couldn't help but let out a low moan with each one. They were like waves, crashing into me and pulling me under, leaving me gasping for air. I curled up on the bed, my fists clenching the sheets as the pain grew more intense. There was a pressure building in my pelvis, a feeling of something pushing, demanding to be let out.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I felt a strange sensation, something moving, something that didn't belong inside me. The pain grew to a crescendo, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty apartment, as I bore down with all my might. The pressure grew unbearable, and I felt something tearing, a sensation so intense that I thought I would split in two.

And then, amidst the pain, there was a moment of relief, a sudden release. I looked down between my legs to see a tiny, squalling creature, covered in blood and fluid, emerging from my body. It was a baby, a tiny, helpless baby, and it was mine. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I sobbed even harder, my body shaking with the force of the contractions that hadn't ceased.

I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of: I picked up the baby, cradling it in my arms. It was so small, so fragile, and it was looking up at me with eyes that hadn't yet focused. The crying was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, a sound that brought with it a flood of emotions I didn't know I was capable of feeling. Fear, pain, and confusion swirled inside me like a tornado, but there was something else too, something warm and fierce: love.

Anyways she grew up without a mom and her and I have gotten close because technically I am old enough to be her mother and she often comes to me for advice.

A few months ago she came to work walking a little bow legged and had apparently had her first 1 night stand with an older man who was probably twice her size and he gave it to her pretty hard. We kinda talked through it and she decided this probably wasn't someone she wanted to see again.

Then yesterday she comes in crying and turns out she is pregnant, already 4 months and scared out of her mind. She asked me a lot of questions and she wants to have the baby

He has taken his Viagra and the midwife has given her the pitocin when he calls her over she crawls the contractions have just started.

He had been seated in a chair watching her body begin the labor process when he calls her over and tells her to straddle him sinking his pulsing cock completely into her letting it sit against her slightly dilated cervix.

"This is where you will stay until it's time to push baby" he says as he slowly thrusts into her.

As her labor progresses he had no need to thrust her moans and whimpers along with the strong contractions gripping his cock is all he needs to cum over and over again.

Weeks later, one night, you go to sleep, you stomach cramping particular hard tonight, but you had long lost hope it could be actual contractions… And you wake up violently to a harsh, familiar tightening all across your tummy, as it misshapens in bursts that sink and stretch the skin in ways you never had seen before, but throw you into a world of agony completely unlike your first failed birth. You try to push, but you realize something heavy and monstrous is rolling inside you.

Something that is hatching, having been incubated in the warm refuge of your worm all this weeks, as if it had been laid, and isn’t all that pleased about its new, small home.

You are realizing too late. Even the signs of labor your ignored- but there is no time now, as your womb tightens and demands you to push, and you grit your teeth, sinking your hands into your aching belly and do just that. Squeezed by your overtaxed womb, the creature is guided downwards, and as it realizes finally where its path to freedom lies, its shoves its head into your pelvis with such force you feel your bones creak, and birthing fluids soak your sheets. Strangely, you don’t feel its shell, perhaps its soft, but you have no time to worry about that right now.

Another contraction envelopes you, and combined with the creature’s efforts, it begins to breach your birth canal, your pelvis creaking ominously. You scream, sweating, toes curling with effort, but you refuse to stop pushing until your body lets go off you. The babe squirms impatiently, what you guess is its tail, thick and heavy, slapping your lungs, cutting off your breath, but as another contraction takes over, you push just as hard as before, if not harder.

He slammed the flap shut and turned, chest heaving, tusks bared in something that was not a smile. His eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide, his body trembling with the kind of hunger you could feel in your bones.

“Need you,” he growled, voice rough like gravel grinding against stone. “Now.”

You had no time to answer. His massive hand fisted in your clothes and tore, fabric shredding like parchment. You gasped as cool air licked over your bare skin, nipples hardening instantly under his hungry gaze.

Then he was on you—pressing you down onto the furs, his weight a crushing, intoxicating force. His mouth found your neck, tusks scraping, teeth biting hard enough to bruise. You moaned as his tongue followed, hot and wet, marking you as his.

“Mine,” he snarled into your throat, hips grinding against yours. You felt him—gods, you felt him—thick and hard, already leaking, straining against the rough hide pants that barely held him. The sheer size of him made your stomach twist with both fear and aching want.

He didn’t bother undressing you gently. Your legs were spread wide by his hands, pinned apart as he ripped at his laces, freeing himself with a guttural sound that made your pulse stutter.

You glanced down and gasped. He was massive, thick veins bulging along his shaft, slick with precum that dripped down to his heavy balls. Your mouth went dry.

“Too big—” you started, but he cut you off with a sharp kiss, teeth clashing against yours, his tongue invading your mouth until you were gasping against him.

“You take me,” he grunted, voice low and shaking. “You take all. Need to breed you, fill you, make you swollen with me.”

The words sent a jolt straight through you, heat pooling between your thighs. Your protest melted into a whimper as he pressed the broad head of his cock against your entrance, already slick from your arousal. He pushed—hard. The stretch was brutal, burning, tearing you open wider than you thought possible.

You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into thick muscle. “Fuck—it’s—”

“Relax,” he growled, forcing himself deeper, inch by merciless inch. “You can take it. You will.”

The blunt crown popped inside with a shock of pain and pleasure that made your back arch. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He shoved forward until you were crying out, your walls fluttering helplessly around the sheer girth filling you. By the time his hips met yours, you were split wide, stuffed so full you swore you could feel him pressing against your stomach.

“Perfect,” he rasped, sweat dripping down his temple. “Tight, hot… gods, you’re made for me.”

Then he moved.

The first thrust drove the air from your lungs, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, obscene slap. You screamed, nails dragging red lines down his back. He grunted in answer, rutting into you with animal desperation, each thrust deeper, harder, faster than the last. The furs beneath you grew damp with your slick as he used you, your body trembling from the force.

You could barely think, barely breathe. The stretch was overwhelming, the friction devastating, your clit grinding against the base of his cock with every savage thrust. Pleasure bloomed sharp and unbearable, your moans spilling loud and broken into the air.

“Gonna fill you,” he panted, voice hoarse with need. “Stuff you so full, you’ll leak for days. Breed you till your belly round with my seed.”

The filth of it snapped something inside you. You came hard, body clenching down around him, milking him as stars burst behind your eyes. He roared, slamming deep, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed violently inside you.

Hot, thick cum flooded your womb in heavy spurts, spilling past the seal of your stretched pussy to drip down your ass. You sobbed at the heat, at the fullness, at the way he kept thrusting through it, chasing more.

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Even as his seed leaked out, he growled and pulled back only to pound into you again, chasing another climax, another release. His rut had no end—only need.

By the time his weight finally collapsed against you, your body was trembling, thighs sticky and soaked, cunt aching and stretched raw from being filled over and over. His cock still twitched inside you, stubbornly hard, as if ready to start all over again the moment he caught his breath.

His teeth scraped your ear, voice rough but softer now. “Not done. Gonna breed you all night.”