THIS BLOG IS 18+! 🔞MINORS BEGONE!🔞

You’re swollen and uncomfortable and you have the urge to push, but every time you try force one out it just won’t budge. You lay down and rub your belly, unable to work and attend your classes and needing to be brought food because it’s painful to do anything but lay down and watch tv or read to take your mind off the feeling of how full you are.

PREVIEW

Doctor Mark fucking Hanover thought that being needed meant putting to good use his God damn degree. Putting to good use the many years of experience in a variety of fields, to put to good use his versatility as a scientist, or to put to good use his hundred awards, the million papers that his capable hands had written over the years.

He didn’t think that being an active element of the reproductive process meant… Well, this.

“Oh, God…” another shameful moan escaped Mark's lips before he could bite it back. “Shit..!”

Mark leaned forward. The skin of his abdomen pinched when the sensors on his stomach tugged with the movement, sticking to the few hairs of his abdomen that had remained after they had hastily shaved the spots to put the sensors. The man let his head sink between his extended arms, his sweaty forehead pressing against the cold railing. The air hit the exposed skin of the back of his legs when the robe that covered him moved, drifted forward to expose him.

A hospital robe. The first time in his life that he had ever worn a hospital robe, and it was in this situation. Terrific.

The sharp pain sizzling on his lower back, on the hot skin of his stomach, finally went away, but the discomfort remained there, settled deep in his aching muscles. Mark swayed, a low hum vibrating through his lips as he tried to drown out the sounds around him —the quiet murmur of his coworkers talking, of their pens taking notes, the sound of his own heartbeat reverberating through the cardiac monitor— and his gravid stomach swayed with him, hanging low in front of him.

The cold metal of the railing dug against the skin of his forearms when Mark let out a breath, his whole body going slack for a moment when he let himself deflate. Mark felt his own breath hitting his arm when he tilted his head, pressing his cheek against his own warm skin, blinking up at the bright lights on top of him.

Anna stood on the other side of the glass door, both her hands buried deep in the pockets of her lab coat. One of the younger interns came up to her, a young boy who Mark saw take a deep breath, probably summoning the courage to speak to the Dr. White. Anna's eyes weren't focused on Mark, but probably somewhere behind him, focused on all the monitors and the sonography machines.

Still, Mark only let the grimace creep up his face when he saw Anna's head turn, her attention moving to the intern next to her.  

The egg moved lower. 

He felt it. He felt the way his stomach tensed and contracted, how the eggs inside his stomach shifted, moving inside, rubbing against each other. And the egg that was already positioned to slide inside his birth canal, a solid mass sitting on his pelvis, moved lower, stretching him open. 

Oh, God, he should have said yes to the damn pain drugs. He didn't even know what he was thinking when he refused to accept them, some attempt to keep at least something of his dignity by toughing it out. Mark had somehow convinced himself that the last act of pride he could at least partake in was to face it like a man, no drugs to subdue the pain and turn him into what, a zombie? God knows what these people would do to him and his body if he weren't in all his senses. He wasn't going to become a guinea pig so these people could play around even more with his body.

The good part was that they respected his decision. The bad part, besides the unequivocal pain, was that he was utterly aware of every single thing that was happening in his body.

He felt how the hospital robe clung to his body, the fabric tight and coarse pressing against his body, draping over the hot skin of his gravid stomach, rubbing against it just the wrong way. He could feel the constant tension in his middle, how the muscles ached under the strain of the weight of his ripe belly, bearing all the sudden changes of the last few months, how his body had deformed into this burdensome and overstuffed. He was painfully aware of the eggs inside of him, three foreign objects growing inside his body, moving and shifting as they pleased in their new home, stretching the skin of his stomach every time they pushed out, an almost eerie image to see his, as if something were trying to crawl out of his stomach, huge and heavy.

There hadn't been a day in the last month when Mark had been granted the grace of not thinking about the weight inside of him, about how now his stomach swelled and hung in front of him, how his muscles and his bones and his body had slowly accommodated, attuning itself to carry this new life.

And now he wasn't really sure if the feeling starting to sour in the middle of his chest was the relief that, in a few hours, everything was going back to normal, or the anxiety that he still had to do... this. The contraction taking over him let him know that both of them were way too mixed up and muddled together for him to decide.

“Ah! Ughn, mh-hm!” Mark whimpered, legs trembling and knees buckling beneath him, fingers gripping the cold metal. “Hgnm!”

Mark squirmed in place, knees jerking close together as his stomach tensed, muscle straining and shifting beneath the hospital robe that covered the hot skin. The man had to keep himself from screaming out loud. For a moment, he couldn't think about anything but the pain throbbing over his body, clouding everything. It felt as if someone were twisting a knife in the middle of his stomach as fire spread through his middle, as the pressure built on his hips.

He didn't realize when his legs moved, when they started to drift apart, wide and open to allow the pressure growing between them to come down. He didn't even hear the door opening until he felt a hand pressing against his aching back.

“Mark,” Anna's voice forced him to snap his head up. “Stand up. We are going to check you now.”

Mark lifted his head to face his coworker, and for a moment, all that reverberated in the room was the low hum of the machines monitoring him and the ragged sounds of his own labored breathing, fast and superficial.

God, he couldn't believe that the woman who once shared a desk with him was seeing him like this right now. Or what was worse, Mark thought, Anna wasn't really looking at him. He knew very well the look in her eyes, the little sparkle shining behind the dark eyelashes, the same one she had a hundred times before when they were finishing an experiment, and everything went exactly like she had envisioned. The same one she had when she was just about to get exactly what she wanted. The same look Mark had once worn, in a room like this very one, when the person attached to machines and being monitored like an animal wasn't him.

He couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame her for seeing right through him and only being able to see the damn eggs —God, he knew that Anna probably didn't give a shit about him at this very moment as much as she did about the integrity of this whole experiment. 

Mark didn't blame her. If he were in her place, he would have done the same.

Another hand landed on his body. This time, Anna took a step back as someone else —probably one of the nurses— wrapped their fingers around Mark's arm, guiding him towards the bed, Anna's heels clicking against the ceramic behind him.

“Open your legs, please,” Anna ordered. 

Mark would have liked to pretend he wanted to fight the orders a bit, to pretend he wasn't just about to give up, but the reality was that the only thing that came out of his mouth when he opened it was a breathy moan as he leaned against the bed, his fingers curling around the edge of the mattress. The movement was too sudden, and Mark could feel the weight of his stomach pulling down on him, pain spreading through the bones of his pelvis as the pressure came crashing down.

The smell of Anna's perfume almost made him gag when she moved to stand next to him, writing something down on the clipboard in her hand.

The sudden jolt of feeling a pair of foreign gloved fingers moving down his legs and sliding between his glutes, spreading the open made him gasp before they forced a strangled scream from the deeps of his throat when he felt them slide inside of his tight hole.

“Sorry about, huh…”  Anna cleared her throat, looking at him over the rim of the clipboard, "...well, the lack of lubricant. We didn't want any of the eggs in contact with a potential contaminant.”

In between the discomfort radiating through his body —throbbing all over his back, his middle— and the unfamiliar feeling of having two fingers stretching his hole open, moving inside of him, Mark barely registered the moment when the fingers inside of him stopped, hitting something.

The gloved fingers rubbed against the tip of the egg in his birth canal. 

“I can feel one of the eggs,” the nurse said. "It's already in his birth canal. Should come out soon."

Fucking hell. Birth canal. Another one of all the faux shit they had made up in the last few months. One day, he woke up, and he was filled to the brim, so grotesque and swollen with alien offspring, and he had a birth canal. Well, wasn't that all science was about? Making up shit until you hit the nail on the head and something looked credible enough? Mark, better than anyone, should know how these things work.

And well, these eggs had to come out of him somehow. And if they had to come out naturally, then that meant he had a birth canal.

Behind him, the nurse shifted. Mark's jaw tensed when the fingers kept moving inside of him, rubbing against the hard shell of the egg. The constant pressure and movement suddenly forced the egg to shift, pushing up, and Mark felt the exact moment when the round mass hit his prostate. His body jerked, and he leaned forward, trying to escape the instant feeling of electricity that coursed through his body. The front of his round belly pressed against the bed, and behind him, the nurse's hand moved to the side of his leg to keep him still in place, tugging him back. Inside of him, the eggs moved, rubbing one against the other, creating bulges as they protruded from inside the skin of his stomach.

Under the hospital robe, he felt his dick twitching. 

God, it was hot in here, wasn’t it?

Mark cleared his throat as he slowly pulled himself up, forcing himself to stand straight even when the pressure of the egg nestled deep in his birth canal was starting to annoy him, deep and uncomfortable, flaring up every time he moved. Finally, the nurse slid their fingers out of him. The relief that washed over him lasted little, because when he pushed himself away from the bed, hand brushing over his stomach to accommodate the hospital robe to try and cover something, Anna spoke again, using that little tone that she always used when what she said wasn't really a suggestion.

“Well,” the blonde nodded, writing something on her notepad before her eyes moved back to him. “I think you’re cleared to push, Mark.”

Mark blinked. His hand unconsciously moved to press against the side of his stomach, feeling the tense surface as he frowned. “Already?”

“Yes,” Anna nodded. “Based on our research, your body is just ready to lay the eggs. You should be feeling it any moment now. It’s just going to feel like a little pinch, then, a bit of pressure…”

Anna's words faltered when she saw the way Mark's face fell, the grimace of confusion transforming into surprise as his body spasmed, fingers gripping around the fabric of the hospital robe as his lips parted, the air sucked out of him. Well, there it was, science happening right in front of her very eyes. 

A little pinch. A bit of pressure.

Mark knew it was a vile lie the moment he felt the little pinch: his middle tensed, just like the countless contractions he had been having in the past few hours, but this time the pain didn’t plateau at the awful discomfort of just a stomach cramp as usual. It was a piercing, furious pain, and for a moment, Mark's eyes flashed with despair, and when he thought it couldn't get any worse, he felt the pressure. He leaned forward, one of his hands moving to grasp the bed railings, knuckles turning white, his head spinning as he felt the need to push.

Bit of pressure? It felt like a bowling ball was splitting him open from the inside. He knew the eggs weren't that big, but God, they did feel massive. Mark’s head snapped up to find Anna, and for a moment, he was sure that if he could, he would have punched her in the face. That was one thing he recognized: this thing was barely starting, and he was already losing it. The aggression was a primitive response of his brain to the inability to comprehend what was going on with his body: the pain, the sudden pressure.

(Birth Denial Request Game)

This probably isn’t what you had in mind but I am a little crazy about cock birth right now and this made me think of an alien of some kind that has an ovipositor meant to knot human penises 😵‍💫 And the idea of a guy already being pregnant with eggs thinking there won’t be any harm in letting his alien partner sound and knot him, but while he’s lying there whimpering at the feeling of a knot inside his cock, his insides cramp and his eyes fly open and he frantically tells his partner that the eggs are coming.

But pulling the massive knot out would definitely injure him so he has no choice but to lie there waiting for it to deflate, grunting and moaning as his body contracts eggs towards the base of his cock. By the time his partner’s knot goes down, his cock is so backed up with eggs and he has to squeeze it tight from the outside to keep them all from surging forward and ruining his slit.

Of course then the slow, careful process of controlling the movement of the eggs by inching his fist up his cock gets him turned on, and precum and birthing fluid are squelching out of his tip, coating his shaft and making it a little too easy to end up jerking himself off. In his lust he accidentally lets an egg ease towards his tip, making his poor glans bulge and go a painful purple. It’s excruciating, and he closes his fist around his tip, trying to keep it in, sobbing that he can’t do it, it hurts too bad, it’s gonna rip him apart. But he’s so sensitive and turned on that the squeeze of his own hand around his egg-swollen cockhead is enough to finish him off.

He expects the egg to shoot out of his slit, but instead he finds himself writhing and jerking against the sheets as he cums with the dome of an egg crowning from his cock. His back arches off the bed, the rock hard curve of his cock bobbing heavily with the weight of its egg-filled head.

arthurshelby peakyblinders is transfeminine. kinkajou wingsoffire is in an objectum romantic relationship with the popcorn butter dispenser at her local movie theater. every dinosaur in the jurassic park franchise is a lesbian

The hab is laid out in similar style to the many others that line the halls of your station, though the decoration differs between each. The whole space is only large enough to accommodate a bed at one side and a small sitting area at the other, a few compact but comfortable chairs arranged around a plush purple rug. A large automatic door sits at the other end, a cramped entrance to a private bathroom beside it along the adjoining wall. The bed is the prized location, though, with thick quilted coverings and soft pillows that certainly don't come standard. It normally stands clean and made, though today the blankets have been unceremoniously shoved aside and the sheets dragged and pulled every which way. In the center is the reason for the disturbance.

You partner sits hunched and huffing at the center of the destroyed bed, their dark softly scaled flanks rising and falling erratically as their hands dig into the sheets. Their long head hangs uncontrolled against their chest, tongues lolling out of both sides of their mouth, with sweat and drool dripping from them in equal quantities. They've been like this for hours. You sit beside them, a hand on one side of their broad back, soothing them.

You'd been together for years already when they brought up the idea of having children. Having met and fallen in love on the station, you were both familiar with the ins-and-outs of protocol when it came to forming a relationship or starting a family. It was often encouraged, as it helped the station to feel more like a community, a home, than a cold research vessel. Even given that positive outlook though, there were few couples who made the time to actually go through with the process, and even fewer that were interspecies.

Your partner came from a type of species that could be uncharitably called parasitic, though in the modern day with all its interconnectedness, it was rarely viewed that way. While they needed another member of their own species to fertilize their eggs, they lacked the necessary organs to support them through the entirety of their growth. The eggs could be laid in open air if necessary, but it tended to cause weak growth, so throughout their history, your partner's species had used hosts to allow their eggs to grow more strongly and consistently. Brought into the intergalactic community, this process of hosting had taken on deep and intimate meaning, often practiced between lovers while the primary fertilization partner could either be an additional party in a larger relationship or simply a quick reproductive transaction. In your relationship, it had been the latter.

When you had decided to start a family, at your partner's repeated insistence and your flattered gladness, you had reached out to an acquaintance from a few systems over who had provided the extra genetic material your partner needed. That had been months ago, and the eggs that rested in your partner's sac which normally would have gone unfertilized and been easily passed, had instead swelled and softened until their stomach had begun to distend, the scales there softening and spreading to accommodate.

You had taken immense pleasure in the changes to your partner's body, feeling the hard keratinous ridges along their belly grow pliable and vulnerable under your delicate, receptive human fingers. It had all been leading up to this. When they'd woken you early this morning, breath hitching in their throat, you'd both known it was time. You'd called off of work for the day and settled in to allow them to nest in your shared bed.

It started slow. A few times an hour, the soft scales along their belly, separated by fleshy tissue to allow for the growth, had quickly contracted and reformed the tight, unbroken line of their previous form as their sac squeezed inside them, forcing the eggs out of the holding space where they had been growing and into the laying pouch lower in their torso. As the day passed by however, and the time grew closer, the pains sped up, until they were occurring every 10 minutes, then every 5, then every 2. As it stood now, your partner was near-constantly wracked with shuddering ripples as the muscles in their torso forced the process along.

The sputtered suddenly as one particularly bad pain struck them, then went suddenly silent, their primary eyes going wide.

"I- I think that the second phase is starting!" They choked out. "I feel the first one... moving." They shut their eyes suddenly, and as your eyes darted back down to their abdomen, you could see the bulge of the first egg outlined against their taut, scaled belly as it moved outwards towards the laying pouch. It wasn't quite there yet, though. Once it was, you would have to move quickly and decisively.

"Is it time?" You ask. Your partner looks up, exhaustion and desperation dripping from their face. It crinkles with pain once again, and in their throes, they nod vigorously.

"I- It's time now. We have to- AH!" They almost double over and you see the first egg suddenly slide forward and into position. "Oh spirits! Quickly!" On cue, their body begins to push through the ancestral motions it has been designed for. As the first egg reaches the laying pouch, a long curling appendage starts to emerge from the minuscule slit along the bottom half of their abdomen. They shudder as the slick ovipositor unfurls into the open air of the room, too sensitive to be comfortably exposed to the chill of the outside.

You move quickly, sliding off your underwear and helping your partner to mount you. Their ovipositor finds purchase quickly, instincts taking over, and you reach a confident hand up to your partner's face, cupping what could be called their cheek in your palm reassuringly. They open their eyes, briefly breaking free of the powerful instincts driving them to make eye contact with you. Deep in their dark eyes, you find love and joy, blanketed with the pain and hunger of the current situation.

You shiver as the ovipositor slithers into you, reaching as deeply as it can. Your partner drops onto you, bucking their hips against yours in a primal effort to force it deeper. Once they can go no further, they stop, and hold for just a moment, completely still. You take it to admire the bulge of the first soft egg that sits plainly there, barely under their skin. Lost in the wonder of the moment, you're startled when your partner makes another move. Dropping down over you, hands digging into the sheets beside your head, they let out a loud, strained sound as another pain strikes them, different this time.

"It's- AH! It's time! I need to push! Spirits, I need to push now!" They cry out. You move your hand from their face down onto their stomach, tracing the bulge of the egg. They whimper and as another pain strikes, you see their whole body twist with effort. The soft egg begins to move down, disappearing for a moment as it enters their ovipositor, then reappearing as it travels painstakingly slow down the thin organ, deforming in its softness to more easily travel through its constricted length. Just before it reaches you, your partner stops, the pain lost and progress halted. You can see the stretch of their ovipositor around the egg, the way that the skin and flesh have to strain to allow it through, and you can hear the hissing, pained breaths of your partner as they try to stand the burning of it all.

Blessedly, another pain comes quickly, causing them to whimper, and then redouble their efforts. The egg begins to move again, traveling steadily down until it comes up against your entrance. On the sudden resistance, your partner lets out a moaning, alien chittering, a low growling, whimpering sound that speaks of desperation. You see the muscles in their lower regions tense further, and suddenly, the egg has forced its way through, stretching its way into your body. You take a sharp breath, feeling it as it squishes and slides slowly along the length of the ovipositor inside you, savoring the feeling of your first child entering you, finding a place inside you where it will continue to grow for months yet.

All at once, the egg reaches the end, sliding out of the tip of the ovipositor and expanding ever so slightly as it emerges from the slightly-too-thin space it has been traveling through. You feel it settle inside you, warm and soft and thumping ever so slightly with life. As it leaves the ovipositor, your partner lets out a harsh, held breath which turns into a series of ragged, monstrous huffs.

"It's- It's out," they say, as if you aren't completely and deliriously aware. The ovipositor shifts inside of you and a quiver of pleasure runs through your body, causing your muscles to tighten ever so slightly around the egg now inside you, reminding you that it is there. It thumps back approvingly and you feel another wave of sweet pleasure run through you, tickling you from your stomach outwards. Your partner smiles down at you through heavy breaths. You both sit like that for a moment before you hear your partner's breath grow faster and harder again, the pains returning.

The second egg slides out more easily than the first into the laying pouch, its path cleared by its slightly larger first sibling, though not without effort. With the ovipositor already inside, the process moves on quickly without allowing your partner even a hint of a break. As soon as the egg has entered the laying pouch, another pain takes them and they let out an anguished moan as their body begins the process of pushing without them. In the haze of effort, their tongues slowly drop out of their open mouth between their bared teeth, dripping saliva down onto the bed and onto you in the effort of pushing. You raise a hand to wipe it off of your cheek, then move it down to touch the egg gently as it moves slowly down the ovipositor.

"AH- OH! Spirits preserve me!" They let out a sharp cry as you make contact, pain and pleasure rolling through their body and causing the egg to suddenly speed up in its passage. The wave of feeling passing through them all at once causes their muscles to tighten and squeeze and all of the sudden, the third and final egg pops forward all at once.

"AH!!" The sudden pain and surprise cause your partner to rock forwards all at once in a horrible lurch, and their head lands between their hand, still clutched in the sheets, and your head, their wet slavering mouth just beside your ear. The perfect place for you to hear the wet and ragged breaths catching continuously in their throat. Unable to find the strength, they can't pick up their face from the bed and so leave it there, their whole body pressed against yours, allowing you to feel every muscle twitching, every forceful push and every shifting scale.

The jolt causes the second egg still trapped in their ovipositor to twitch forward, passing into your all at once without warning. You let out a breath that turns more into a moan as it escapes as you feel it slide out into you to join its sibling. The third is quickly approaching, though, having followed the first two down their long and arduous path. Your partner moans with pain in your ear as they push and you feel even their shoulders tense on top of you as they lose control of their muscles in the effort.

Slowly, for this egg is bigger than the others, they make progress. Halting, breathy progress. For each push, the egg moves a few inches further until inevitably, it stops as it reaches your entrance. As the contractions come, your partner tenses and moans, pushing as hard as they can trying to rid themself of the final egg, but it won't budge. In their pain, they open their eyes, a pleading look boring into you.

You reach down between your bodies and find the exposed, bulging ovipositor with your fingers. Carefully, you wrap the entirety of your hand around it's throbbing width drawing it slowly back and forth, and causing your partner's eyes to roll back in their head and their whole body to pulse and shudder. With the force of the orgasm you tease out slowly, the egg rushes along the remaining length, parting you. You come alongside them as the egg settles alongside the others, deep in your belly.

It’s in rut for a full week, looking obviously miserable and spending days searching without luck for a partner. The boy thinks about how long the monster must have spent alone. And he watches, face flushed hot, as the monster stretches its front legs out and claws the earth, pressing its face to the ground, back arched and tail whipping as it fucks the air and whines pathetically.

He starts exploring deeper into the monster’s cave at this time, and finds cave paintings depicting what looks to be a sprawling society of these monsters. While he’s wondering if his monster is the last one, he comes upon a corner of the wall filled with drawings of what seems to be a monster family with one human parent. Most of the drawings merely depict the figures running around or hunting the beasts of the forest, but two catch his eye: one where the monster has mounted the human, its cock drawn so impossibly large inside them that their back arches with its curve. The other shows the human squatting with a massive monster emerging from between its legs. He squirms with shame as he feels himself growing wet.

He doesn’t approach the monster before its first rut ends. Even if the idea of carrying its children lights a thrill inside him that he never felt when thinking of bearing sons for some man in his village, he knows he should never actually do such a foolish and dangerous thing.

But a year later, when its next rut begins, he’s so in love and has spent so long touching himself to those paintings in the cave that he can’t offer himself to it fast enough. When he sees its cock emerging, he undresses and approaches, taking its huge head in his hands, kissing and stroking the leathery planes of its face. Then he guides its muzzle between his legs to show him how wet he is for it.

The monster looks up, its darting eyes conveying a surprise that its mostly rigid face cannot. It makes a noise that, in their rudimentary efforts at finding a common language, the boy recognizes as, Are you sure?

He nods, Yes, yes, and leads the monster back to the furs where he sleeps. He lays back, heart pounding, and spreads his legs. Permission given, the monster wastes no time. It grips his calves with its oddly humanoid hands and hoists them over its haunches, lifting him until only his upper back remains on the ground, elbows flailing behind him for support until one knocks into something hard and the monster chuffs at him. He turns, and gasps a wobbly laugh as he sees that the massive beast has curled its long neck beneath itself to bring its head close to his.

“Sorry,” he tells it, and it forgives him with a low rumble as it presses its cheek to his shoulder. He grabs onto its huge head to steady himself. His small, perky breasts heave as he tries to catch his breath, nipples hard with anticipation. The monster’s cock is hotter than he could have imagined, like a coal just about to turn red. His belly jumps with panting as he watches the cockhead, as big as his fist, begin to nudge at his hole.

The monster only tries for a moment to get inside of him before it seems to deem the effort useless and just starts grinding its tip against his cunt. He throws his head back, moaning as his hips begin to lurch, rolling midair to get the most friction on his clit.

They fuck like that for a while, until the monster’s precum drips down his back and belly and he’s gotten off twice. It’s then, with his cunt relaxed and slippery, that the head catches his opening. He gasps raggedly. The monster jerks to a stop, but he shakes his head, begs, “Please, please I need it, I need it—”

He’s not sure if it understands his words or just intuits by his tone and desperate humping, but it gets the idea. It circles its hips, moving in sharp-but-small thrusts, and the boy’s head falls back as he feels his lover entering him bit by bit, little stabs of pain that melt deliciously into the needy fluttering of his muscles. Then, finally, the head pops into his pussy. His voice breaks over a wail, and a base note rolls in the monster’s throat, reverberating through his ribs. He leans on it, head resting on its browbone, and mumbles his affection and overwhelm, calling it his lover, his darling, asking for it to fill him up, asking for its young.

And he doesn’t have to wait long. He feels its hips tremble with self-control as it resists pounding into him, but it only manages the slow, shallow thrusts for so long before snarling and coring him out. He screams, back arching, certain it must have just filled him straight up to his ribs. The sensation leaves him limp, noises he’s never heard himself make fucked out of him. He is truly being rutted into, and can do nothing but cling to his monster and wail as his back arches, body conforming to the shape of its cock.

He does manage to draw a few shivering fingertips to his belly, and when he feels its cockhead fill his palm through the skin, he cums with a scream, twisting around the heavenly impalement of his lover.

It goes on like that for what feels like ages. He might pass out at some point, though it’s hard to tell with his head swimming like it is. Eventually, his monster tires and eases down on its side, gently resting him against its underbelly. He splays both hands below his navel, feeling it fuck him, feeling each finger judder over the flared lip of its cockhead inside him.

It fucks him past exhaustion. He sinks into sleep, and when he wakes, it’s to a stab of brilliant, full-feeling pain in his cunt. He squirms and wriggles, slurs half-questions, before finally reaching down and feeling for himself. Where its cock vanishes into him, his pussy bulges, something huge plugging his entrance. He remembers mutts he once saw in the street, and shudders.

“Oh… a knot,” he rasps. His lover bobs ever so gently inside of him, a confirmation, and he whimpers. “It’s so big… god…”

A shift, muscle and flesh rolling next to him, and his monster curls an arm around him. Its hand spreads over his belly, warm air snuffling in his sex-matted hair as it nuzzles him. He grips its gnarled hand, both of his barely matching the breadth of it.

“I hope that tale is true,” he mumbles. “That your seed will take in me…”

It curls around him tighter and chuffs an affectionate sound as its clawed fingers trace its belly, right where he’ll swell if this works. His thighs tremble at the pressure its knot creates within him, how his muscles cramp around it. He can only imagine how much larger their child will be. Fear stirs in his chest: what has he done? Could he even survive bearing a child of that size? But as he imagines it, the immense weight, the stretch, his pussy only slicks and flutters around his mate.