(I’m gonna meet you halfway on the office part and do a job-themed one)
I’m thinking of a heavily pregnant Uber driver. Driving is so uncomfortable these days, the way his belly forces his legs to either side, pinning them to the door on one side and the console on the other. The steering wheel gets wedged against his belly, too, if he isn’t careful. After all, there are five people in the driver’s seat.
Today is especially difficult. He’s been having contractions on and off, and he misread an assignment and accidentally agreed to a four-hour drive. His client is about as happy about this as he is, grumbling in the back seat that he doesn’t care if there wasn’t another flight today, the company should have just postponed the conference instead of making him drive all this way. As if he’s the one driving, not just sitting in the back tapping his fingers while the actual driver tries not to groan out loud from the pressure of quadruplets pressing his hips to the seat.
An hour and a half in, the contractions start to get a little too regular. The driver knuckles sweat from his brow as he glances at the clock, noting the time since the last painful squeeze of his belly. Five minutes apart. Oh, dear.
He squirms and winces in his seat, letting out a gentle whine as the pressure grows in his lower back. From his first pregnancy, he knows that the concrete weight is the head engaging in his cervix. He really hopes there’s a hospital near the destination.
At hour two, the pain really starts.
He struggles not to clench his eyes shut as his insides tear apart. Knowing that transition won’t be forever doesn’t save him from the feeling that this pain has taken over his life, that there will never be anything but this, the cruel knot of agony deep inside him. It’s a miracle he hasn’t crashed the car. Not caring what his client thinks, he lets a sound rise from his gut and press through his teeth.
“Hoooouuuuuuggghhhhh…….”
The client makes a disapproving sound. A scoff? That bastard—
“Something you want to share with the class?”
The driver lets the moan fade with the contraction, and struggles to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry, sir, but- we’re gonna have to pull over. I- hoo- I’ll need to push, soon.”
“You’ll need to—?! Yuck, I don’t want to hear about that! Just do your damn job!”
The driver finds himself too shocked by the audacity to say anything. Though it turns out he doesn’t really have to; his body says it for him not three minutes later, his cervix giving way to the head, the red-hot clutch of his belly wringing it down with a deep pulling sensation that manifests as one clear need.
“Ohhhh god! It’s time, I need to push!”
“I don’t give a fuck. Do your job or I’ll get your goddamn license revoked!”
Through the haze of pain and panic, the threat sounds plausible. But he can’t ignore his body. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution weigh on his womb, and he has no choice but to bear down with it and push.
For the next forty miles of highway, he pushes. Every time another noise of effort wheezes out of him, the client berates him for working in such a state, and for being disgusting, and for driving at such a pace that the other cars in the slow lane keep going around them. More than once, he hears the client on the phone reporting him to someone or another, but the contractions are two minutes apart now, so he never catches much before the strain of pushing blots out all other sounds.
Then, he feels a release of pressure, and the seat grows wet beneath him. The baby surges forward. The road blurs in front of him.
“Oh, god!” he cries. “The head! I feel the head, it’s coming, I gotta—“
He hits the brakes and wrenches the car off the road. A horn blares and fades as someone narrowly avoids them. He barely hears it over his own startled yelp as the seatbelt extender locks just under his belly, clotheslining his already-agonized pelvis. But the pain is nothing compared to the head straining his pussy.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“It’s coming ouuuuuut!”
One of the doors opens and closes, but he pays it no mind, able to think of nothing but the building burn as his cunt stretches around the descending head. “Ohhhhh, my pussy, my pussy…” he groans, still white-knuckling the wheel.
Suddenly, his door opens. He jumps in surprise, then whimpers as he feels the head strain him.
“Get out,” the client huffs.
Finally. The driver spreads one leg carefully out of the car, slowly transfers his weight onto it, then clutches the door and the frame with trembling hands as he levers his baby-filled belly and pussy off of the seat.
“Ohhhhhh…” Immediately he staggers over to the hood of the car, ignoring the sting of hot metal on his palms as he falls against it. He bends there, belly hanging between his legs, feeling his drenched sweatpants clinging to his domed pussy. Vaguely he’s aware of the passing traffic, of everyone who drives by seeing the head of his baby tenting his crotch, but he doesn’t care as long as the child comes out safely.
“What are you doing?!” the client snaps. “Get back in!”
Blearily, he looks up to see the client pointing to the passenger’s side. Yes, it would make sense to push sitting down instead of over the asphalt, wouldn’t it? He staggers his bow-legged way around the nose of the car and carefully lowers himself in, practically laying back in the seat with his spread legs splayed outside of the car. He has just enough room to tug his waistband down as he starts to push again.
His heaving breaths come out as whines as the crown threatens. At this angle, he’s able to fit his arm around the jut of his belly and feel his crotch.
“Ohhh god, that’s the head, it’s coming out,” he whimpers, feeling a small patch of slimy hair between his taut pussy lips. The contraction ends, and he releases his push, feeling the head inch ever so slightly back inside. Only a few more pushes, now.
Behind him, the client has been muttering and grumbling. Taking the moment to twist around, the driver looks over his shoulder and sees that the client has pulled some casual clothes out of his suitcase and thrown them over the soaking driver’s seat, and is now cursing and wincing as he starts to sit.
“What- what are you doing?” the driver pants.
“What does it look like? Close the door and put your goddamn seatbelt on.”
He swallows dryly. “Are you taking me to a hospital?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He gestures flippantly with one hand. “So get on with it.”
Bewildered but grateful, the driver grips his legs behind the thighs and folds them into the car. A thin noise leaks out of him as his cunt strains, the change in position pushing the head forward.
“It’s so close, it’s almost out,” he groans.
The client doesn’t say anything to that, just pulls the car around and starts to accelerate. The driver focuses on his body, the weight in his womb and the searing pressure of his first baby peeking out between his legs. He feels his belly tightening and tucks his chin to his chest, grunting as he pushes with all his might. Beneath his shaking hand, he feels the his cunt lips stretch rounder and rounder, then finally begin to ease back, releasing more and more of the head.
He howls in pain but keeps pushing. He can feel it, the mounting pressure, the sensation of the head beginning to have its own gravity, it’s about to come out, it’s so close—
And suddenly it’s shoved back inside of him. A scream gargles in his throat, eyes snapping open to the sight of the client’s hand pushing flat on his crotch. He claws at the bastard’s arm futilely, too exhausted and disoriented to budge him.
Later, he’ll wish that he had the presence of mind to demand what’s going on, what the fuck is wrong with this monster, to say he’s going to press charges, to say this fucker should be ashamed of himself. But in the moment, all he can do is scream at the wrongness of it, the pain that’s somehow worse than crowning, and keep trying to push against it.
But finally he reaches the end of his ability, and can do nothing but fight for thin gasps of air. The client lifts his hand away with a confident huff.
“There’s enough screaming in this car already. I won’t want to hear your brats crying, too.”
“What- what the fuck!” he sobs. “You- you can’t—“
“I can, and I will. I better not see that thing coming out of you again.”
“I don’t have a choice!” His body chooses to illustrate a point with another contraction. He tries to close his legs to cut off the client’s access to the baby, but the asshole just shoves his hand under his thighs and finds the lump of the emerging head. The driver screams his pleas, but they fall on deaf ears, and his baby is forced back into his pussy again.
Through watery eyes, he sees that the GPS estimates they will arrive in 57 minutes.
“We’re- not even going to the hospital, are we?” he croaks.
“There’ll be an ambulance waiting at the conference center. Don’t be dramatic, you’ll be fine.”
He is very certainly not fine.
Everything in him rebels against the sensation of childbirth being violently reversed over and over. The contractions were already the worst pain he’s ever felt, but now they’re even tighter, even closer, forcing him to push. The head crowns, only to be swallowed by his unwilling pussy again and again.
38 minutes from their destination, a new pain drills into the driver’s spine. He groans, “No, no, stop! Not yet!” as he feels his cervix forced even wider. “Stop!” he screams, at the client now. “Another baby is coming! They’re gonna get stuck, please! It’s too much! It’s too much!”
“Then stop fucking pushing, dumbass,” the client hisses.
All the driver can do is tremble and weep as he feels a second baby beginning to slide down. The lower it gets, the worse it feels, until finally he vomits onto the floorboards. He follows that up with dry heaving every few minutes, the sensation of two bodies stretching him more than he can bear.
Eventually, when he pushes the head out again, it feels different, a sting to one side of his pussy.
The client scoffs. “Are those feet? What the fuck?”
The driver shudders with a dry sob, too dehydrated for tears. The second of his quadruplets is breach. Its feet must have slipped through his cervix in all this abuse.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s all shoved back into him.
His world reduces to pain and nausea. He still pushes, but it’s feeble. He accepts that he’s going to die with two babies in his belly and two in his pussy. He bets the coroner will have never seen a man go like that, before.
Then the car slows, and the client says, “Finally. We’re here.”
The driver peels his eyes open. The only thing he can make sense of is the distant wail of a siren. At least there really will be an ambulance.
The client gets out of the car without so much as a “good luck.” But the moment he’s gone, the driver slams his feet up on the dashboard, digs his nails into the backs of his thighs, and pushes with all he’s got.
A head and a pair of legs burst out of him in a gush of fluid. He takes only a moment to catch his breath, then he feels a contraction building, and he pushes again, prying his legs open and gritting his teeth. Shoulders and knees come out of him. This is the part where the first baby should slip out of him, or at least be easily pulled free, but it’s stuck with the second baby in his birth canal.
A scream rises in his throat, and he keeps pushing. Two barrel-shaped torsos stretch him at once, nearly the width of the head and twice as long. He feels like he’s tearing open, but he keeps pushing. His pussy spasms as the shoulders pass and the legs of the first child fall free, finally a single moment of not being pried fully open.
He catches the first baby and drags it up to his chest, his head falling back against the seat, unable to look as he rubs and pats the tiny figure, even as he pushes on the head of his breech baby.
Finally the firstborn coughs and starts to cry, and the sob of relief that punches through his diaphragm is enough to crown the second. Beyond any squeamishness or care for pain, he rests the baby on his belly and reaches between his legs. He gently grips what he can of the head and simply pulls the child out, a sharp grunt of agony and a spray of blood.
His birth canal and pussy are so loose that he barely has to push before a third head stretches his lips. He pauses only to be sure baby two is alright, then scrunches his face tight and heaves out the third head in as many minutes. The shoulders follow with a few stubborn pushes, and he gathers the newest baby onto his wheezing chest.
Suddenly his door flies open, and he doesn’t even have the energy to be startled, eyes sliding numbly to the pair of EMTs standing there. They start to speak, but he groans, “Ohhhh it’s coming fast, catch it, catch it!”
The nearer EMT lunges forward and just barely catches the baby that comes barreling out of his gaping birthing hole.
And finally, the driver goes limp, surrounded by four wailing babies. With the last of his strength, he mumbles, “I bet that bastard’s gonna give me zero stars, too,” and lets his eyes fall shut.
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(I’m gonna meet you halfway on the office part and do a job-themed one)
I’m thinking of a heavily pregnant Uber driver. Driving is so uncomfortable these days, the way his belly forces his legs to either side, pinning them to the door on one side and the console on the other. The steering wheel gets wedged against his belly, too, if he isn’t careful. After all, there are five people in the driver’s seat.
Today is especially difficult. He’s been having contractions on and off, and he misread an assignment and accidentally agreed to a four-hour drive. His client is about as happy about this as he is, grumbling in the back seat that he doesn’t care if there wasn’t another flight today, the company should have just postponed the conference instead of making him drive all this way. As if he’s the one driving, not just sitting in the back tapping his fingers while the actual driver tries not to groan out loud from the pressure of quadruplets pressing his hips to the seat.
An hour and a half in, the contractions start to get a little too regular. The driver knuckles sweat from his brow as he glances at the clock, noting the time since the last painful squeeze of his belly. Five minutes apart. Oh, dear.
He squirms and winces in his seat, letting out a gentle whine as the pressure grows in his lower back. From his first pregnancy, he knows that the concrete weight is the head engaging in his cervix. He really hopes there’s a hospital near the destination.
At hour two, the pain really starts.
He struggles not to clench his eyes shut as his insides tear apart. Knowing that transition won’t be forever doesn’t save him from the feeling that this pain has taken over his life, that there will never be anything but this, the cruel knot of agony deep inside him. It’s a miracle he hasn’t crashed the car. Not caring what his client thinks, he lets a sound rise from his gut and press through his teeth.
“Hoooouuuuuuggghhhhh…….”
The client makes a disapproving sound. A scoff? That bastard—
“Something you want to share with the class?”
The driver lets the moan fade with the contraction, and struggles to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry, sir, but- we’re gonna have to pull over. I- hoo- I’ll need to push, soon.”
“You’ll need to—?! Yuck, I don’t want to hear about that! Just do your damn job!”
The driver finds himself too shocked by the audacity to say anything. Though it turns out he doesn’t really have to; his body says it for him not three minutes later, his cervix giving way to the head, the red-hot clutch of his belly wringing it down with a deep pulling sensation that manifests as one clear need.
“Ohhhh god! It’s time, I need to push!”
“I don’t give a fuck. Do your job or I’ll get your goddamn license revoked!”
Through the haze of pain and panic, the threat sounds plausible. But he can’t ignore his body. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution weigh on his womb, and he has no choice but to bear down with it and push.
For the next forty miles of highway, he pushes. Every time another noise of effort wheezes out of him, the client berates him for working in such a state, and for being disgusting, and for driving at such a pace that the other cars in the slow lane keep going around them. More than once, he hears the client on the phone reporting him to someone or another, but the contractions are two minutes apart now, so he never catches much before the strain of pushing blots out all other sounds.
Then, he feels a release of pressure, and the seat grows wet beneath him. The baby surges forward. The road blurs in front of him.
“Oh, god!” he cries. “The head! I feel the head, it’s coming, I gotta—“
He hits the brakes and wrenches the car off the road. A horn blares and fades as someone narrowly avoids them. He barely hears it over his own startled yelp as the seatbelt extender locks just under his belly, clotheslining his already-agonized pelvis. But the pain is nothing compared to the head straining his pussy.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“It’s coming ouuuuuut!”
One of the doors opens and closes, but he pays it no mind, able to think of nothing but the building burn as his cunt stretches around the descending head. “Ohhhhh, my pussy, my pussy…” he groans, still white-knuckling the wheel.
Suddenly, his door opens. He jumps in surprise, then whimpers as he feels the head strain him.
“Get out,” the client huffs.
Finally. The driver spreads one leg carefully out of the car, slowly transfers his weight onto it, then clutches the door and the frame with trembling hands as he levers his baby-filled belly and pussy off of the seat.
“Ohhhhhh…” Immediately he staggers over to the hood of the car, ignoring the sting of hot metal on his palms as he falls against it. He bends there, belly hanging between his legs, feeling his drenched sweatpants clinging to his domed pussy. Vaguely he’s aware of the passing traffic, of everyone who drives by seeing the head of his baby tenting his crotch, but he doesn’t care as long as the child comes out safely.
“What are you doing?!” the client snaps. “Get back in!”
Blearily, he looks up to see the client pointing to the passenger’s side. Yes, it would make sense to push sitting down instead of over the asphalt, wouldn’t it? He staggers his bow-legged way around the nose of the car and carefully lowers himself in, practically laying back in the seat with his spread legs splayed outside of the car. He has just enough room to tug his waistband down as he starts to push again.
His heaving breaths come out as whines as the crown threatens. At this angle, he’s able to fit his arm around the jut of his belly and feel his crotch.
“Ohhh god, that’s the head, it’s coming out,” he whimpers, feeling a small patch of slimy hair between his taut pussy lips. The contraction ends, and he releases his push, feeling the head inch ever so slightly back inside. Only a few more pushes, now.
Behind him, the client has been muttering and grumbling. Taking the moment to twist around, the driver looks over his shoulder and sees that the client has pulled some casual clothes out of his suitcase and thrown them over the soaking driver’s seat, and is now cursing and wincing as he starts to sit.
“What- what are you doing?” the driver pants.
“What does it look like? Close the door and put your goddamn seatbelt on.”
He swallows dryly. “Are you taking me to a hospital?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He gestures flippantly with one hand. “So get on with it.”
Bewildered but grateful, the driver grips his legs behind the thighs and folds them into the car. A thin noise leaks out of him as his cunt strains, the change in position pushing the head forward.
“It’s so close, it’s almost out,” he groans.
The client doesn’t say anything to that, just pulls the car around and starts to accelerate. The driver focuses on his body, the weight in his womb and the searing pressure of his first baby peeking out between his legs. He feels his belly tightening and tucks his chin to his chest, grunting as he pushes with all his might. Beneath his shaking hand, he feels the his cunt lips stretch rounder and rounder, then finally begin to ease back, releasing more and more of the head.
He howls in pain but keeps pushing. He can feel it, the mounting pressure, the sensation of the head beginning to have its own gravity, it’s about to come out, it’s so close—
And suddenly it’s shoved back inside of him. A scream gargles in his throat, eyes snapping open to the sight of the client’s hand pushing flat on his crotch. He claws at the bastard’s arm futilely, too exhausted and disoriented to budge him.
Later, he’ll wish that he had the presence of mind to demand what’s going on, what the fuck is wrong with this monster, to say he’s going to press charges, to say this fucker should be ashamed of himself. But in the moment, all he can do is scream at the wrongness of it, the pain that’s somehow worse than crowning, and keep trying to push against it.
But finally he reaches the end of his ability, and can do nothing but fight for thin gasps of air. The client lifts his hand away with a confident huff.
“There’s enough screaming in this car already. I won’t want to hear your brats crying, too.”
“What- what the fuck!” he sobs. “You- you can’t—“
“I can, and I will. I better not see that thing coming out of you again.”
“I don’t have a choice!” His body chooses to illustrate a point with another contraction. He tries to close his legs to cut off the client’s access to the baby, but the asshole just shoves his hand under his thighs and finds the lump of the emerging head. The driver screams his pleas, but they fall on deaf ears, and his baby is forced back into his pussy again.
Through watery eyes, he sees that the GPS estimates they will arrive in 57 minutes.
“We’re- not even going to the hospital, are we?” he croaks.
“There’ll be an ambulance waiting at the conference center. Don’t be dramatic, you’ll be fine.”
He is very certainly not fine.
Everything in him rebels against the sensation of childbirth being violently reversed over and over. The contractions were already the worst pain he’s ever felt, but now they’re even tighter, even closer, forcing him to push. The head crowns, only to be swallowed by his unwilling pussy again and again.
38 minutes from their destination, a new pain drills into the driver’s spine. He groans, “No, no, stop! Not yet!” as he feels his cervix forced even wider. “Stop!” he screams, at the client now. “Another baby is coming! They’re gonna get stuck, please! It’s too much! It’s too much!”
“Then stop fucking pushing, dumbass,” the client hisses.
All the driver can do is tremble and weep as he feels a second baby beginning to slide down. The lower it gets, the worse it feels, until finally he vomits onto the floorboards. He follows that up with dry heaving every few minutes, the sensation of two bodies stretching him more than he can bear.
Eventually, when he pushes the head out again, it feels different, a sting to one side of his pussy.
The client scoffs. “Are those feet? What the fuck?”
The driver shudders with a dry sob, too dehydrated for tears. The second of his quadruplets is breach. Its feet must have slipped through his cervix in all this abuse.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s all shoved back into him.
His world reduces to pain and nausea. He still pushes, but it’s feeble. He accepts that he’s going to die with two babies in his belly and two in his pussy. He bets the coroner will have never seen a man go like that, before.
Then the car slows, and the client says, “Finally. We’re here.”
The driver peels his eyes open. The only thing he can make sense of is the distant wail of a siren. At least there really will be an ambulance.
The client gets out of the car without so much as a “good luck.” But the moment he’s gone, the driver slams his feet up on the dashboard, digs his nails into the backs of his thighs, and pushes with all he’s got.
A head and a pair of legs burst out of him in a gush of fluid. He takes only a moment to catch his breath, then he feels a contraction building, and he pushes again, prying his legs open and gritting his teeth. Shoulders and knees come out of him. This is the part where the first baby should slip out of him, or at least be easily pulled free, but it’s stuck with the second baby in his birth canal.
A scream rises in his throat, and he keeps pushing. Two barrel-shaped torsos stretch him at once, nearly the width of the head and twice as long. He feels like he’s tearing open, but he keeps pushing. His pussy spasms as the shoulders pass and the legs of the first child fall free, finally a single moment of not being pried fully open.
He catches the first baby and drags it up to his chest, his head falling back against the seat, unable to look as he rubs and pats the tiny figure, even as he pushes on the head of his breech baby.
Finally the firstborn coughs and starts to cry, and the sob of relief that punches through his diaphragm is enough to crown the second. Beyond any squeamishness or care for pain, he rests the baby on his belly and reaches between his legs. He gently grips what he can of the head and simply pulls the child out, a sharp grunt of agony and a spray of blood.
His birth canal and pussy are so loose that he barely has to push before a third head stretches his lips. He pauses only to be sure baby two is alright, then scrunches his face tight and heaves out the third head in as many minutes. The shoulders follow with a few stubborn pushes, and he gathers the newest baby onto his wheezing chest.
Suddenly his door flies open, and he doesn’t even have the energy to be startled, eyes sliding numbly to the pair of EMTs standing there. They start to speak, but he groans, “Ohhhh it’s coming fast, catch it, catch it!”
The nearer EMT lunges forward and just barely catches the baby that comes barreling out of his gaping birthing hole.
And finally, the driver goes limp, surrounded by four wailing babies. With the last of his strength, he mumbles, “I bet that bastard’s gonna give me zero stars, too,” and lets his eyes fall shut.
Matt had been hired at the business company 9 months ago, and finally after constantly sucking up to his boss, he had been invited to his first conference meeting. It was only going to be a 3 hour meeting but all the higher ups in the company were going to be there. There was only one problem- Matt was 9 months pregnant- with triplets After Matt had received the call, letting him know that he had gotten the job, he went out to celebrate with some friends. Having had a few drinks too many he seemed to catch the eye of the hot bartender and one thing leading to another had Matt spending all night and the subsequent morning getting railed to high heaven. He reached a new record with amount of orgasms in one period that night. He had woken up this morning, excited for his first business meeting and with ideas on impressing his superiors when those thoughts were dashed as he sat up. Moaning, he realized how hard he was, not to mention soaking wet. It seemed that during the night all three of his babies had repositioned themselves over that spot inside of him, and Matt now had over 30 lbs of his babies pushing right against his prostate.
((Happy Easter, to everyone who celebrates it. I don't but I thought that would be fun to mention lmao. CW: public birth, humiliation, clothing birth, neglectful partner, dom/sub, dark(ish). ))
It was a common sight but always a pitiful one. Breeders frequently paraded their carriers around in public like prized heifers at a county fair when they grew too large. Stretch marked bellies, smooth bellies, veiny bellies, ones that took on the shape of the babe or babes within. It was almost like a dick measuring contest but it was determined by the size of the carrier at their largest.
My most memorable sighting until today was a carrier who was sporting an elongated, melon-shaped middle that pointed at the floor. Triplets, I was told when I asked their breeder. They could barely walk when and had tears slathered all over their cheeks at the pain in their hips as they trudged along behind their breeder.
But I could only assume they were on their way to a hospital to give birth because they were waddling heavily across the parking lot of the ER with a team of nurses running towards them with a wheelchair.
Today's sighting was different but just as troubling to look at, if not more. A tall, hefty man waltzed around with pride on his face when he yanked on the leash of his carrier as they entered the train. What stumbled in was a petite man with a slender build and a grotesquely large belly hanging from his middle. With how hard the breeder pulled him in, he looked like he'd fall forward and slam his belly into the ground but the hand that held his stomach from underneath reached out and grabbed a pole as he steadied himself. He would have used both hands to better balance himself, but the other was occupied and struggling to hold a very large toddler on his hip. The breeder was shirtless and the child who was no older than ten months old was latched onto his breast.
They began walking to the back of the car where I sat and I got a clear view of the straining belly. The size difference meant the babies under his skin were very, very large. I could tell they were out of room and probably had been for weeks by now. There was a big lump at the top of his belly and another one on the side but lower down. I knew a positioned babe with an engaged head when I saw one. His walk or lack thereof gave it away as well. Bowed at the knees, he waddled/shuffled (I truly didn't know how to describe it) awkwardly behind the breeder who led him to a section where only one seat remained. The carrier was forced to stand with a hardened belly and baby-filled hips as his owner sat down comfortably before they train moved.
A girl who couldn't be any older than 16 quickly stood and offered her seat to the man who looked so close to birth all eyes were on him and his bulging belly. The breeder barked at her saying "he's fine! If I wanted him to sit, I'd let him". The little carrier was so embarrassed and made eye contact with no one as the girl sat down with a frown on her face. Her mother rubbed her shoulder as the pregnant man uttered a quiet "thank you" for her attempt at giving him some much needed comfort.
He was bare from the waist up and on full display for everyone in the read car to see. He began to feel a contraction as the train lurched forward. People watched in sympathy as he went from clutching his tight belly to hanging onto one of the top bars for standing passengers. As the tracks rumbled beneath the floor, his womb grew tighter around two big, due babies. His hips dipped and I could tell he wanted nothing more than to grab his stomach and rub the pain away. Weary, dark eyes stared at the floor as the muscles in his arms tightened while the contraction peaked. He was trying not to grip the toddler too tightly, as she was now fully asleep with her head resting on her father's shoulder while the other sat and scrolled through his phone.
The atmosphere was tense as other onlookers tried to avert their eyes away from the carrier who was now squeezing his eyes and breathing hard through flared nostrils. Seconds later, he couldn't hold back anymore. Something happened that caused the carrier's eyes to open wide and jump. He twisted his hips quickly and let out a loud "OW! OWWWW!" that had everyone, including me, on high alert. Another breeder spoke up this time. I knew she was one because I'd seen her with her carrier over the years through multiple pregnancies. She had one of the healthiest and happiest I'd ever seen.
She stood up and demanded that he sit. Then she reached for the leash but his breeder held tight. "Let go, asshole! You can let him sit for one ride!"
"Yeah, he can take mine!" Another man yelled in front of me.
The carrier was utterly humiliated as he struggled to form words through the stabbing pain in his cervix. "I-I-I'm-I'm fine. I ju-just–"
The breeder cut him off with a booming voice. "He doesn't need to sit! That slimy bastard should've though twice about sneaking out and sleeping around on me last night!"
Ah. This was punishment. Cruel and unusual punishment. It was obvious that he thought the revelation would change their minds but it did the opposite.
"Well, I can see why he did. You're a real piece of work. If I were him I'd cheat on you too!" She yelled back, red in the face. "And I know you didn't wait for him to heal after the last one before stuffing him with two more! Breeders like you are insufferable!"
As I watched the argument unfold, I glanced at the carrier and did a double take when I saw a small, wet stain on light gray sweatpants. No one else seemed to notice and I'm not even sure if he did either. A person next to me was recording the while situation and I'm sure they caught it at their angle. The toddler was now awake and swiveling her heads as the adults argued amongst themselves. The carrier took some of his attention away from his pained womb and soothed the girl as she began to whine at the foul atmosphere. He bounced her gently in one arm as the other held onto the rail. His legs shook and looked as if they'd give out any second.
"Come on, man, look at him!" The person recording next to me shouted at his breeder. "He's about to start droppin' babies!"
"I trained him better than that. He can hold." Said the breeder coldly.
"Can he?" They asked out loud.
"You people think you know my carrier better than me? And how do you know we're not on our way to a birth center right now, huh? All of you are gonna stress the bastards out of him before we even get there!"
They yelled back, "The only birth center in town is in the opposite direction, dumbass!"
"You know what..." The breeder woman sighed as she grabbed the carrier and sat him down slowly in her spot. She unhooked his leash at the same time and lightly rubbed his back, as did the person next to him. Someone else took the toddler and the carrier was now slumped on one side with one hand white-knuckling the seat handle and the other rubbing aggressively at the underside of his misshapen swell. His hips were angled in a way that let myself and everyone who'd known anything about childbirth could tell that a head was dangerously far down and putting pressure on his ass.
His breeder stood with curled lips but someone stepped in between him and the woman.
She and a few others swooned over the carrier who, from what I could hear from the others, was in the throes of transition. Someone asked if he wanted them to check him and he shook his head. They frowned knowing he rejected the offer because his breeder would likely fly into a fit of rage but they didn't push him to accept one. All they could do was offer back rubs and hands to squeeze through contractions for the next half hour until the train stopped.
The doors slid open and the breeder immediately stood. He shoved the small crowd away from his carrier and smacked their hands before slipping thick fingers under his collar and pulling the laboring man to his feet. He cried out and rocked his hips from side to side on instinct as the burly breeder latched the leash on again. After sitting in labor for the duration of the ride, his sac weakened with the lowering babes and what was once a small spot of fluid on his pants had grown to a huge, dark, wet patch that covered his entire ass. The breeder ignored the angry shouts of protest and insults as he walked forward. When the carrier didn't follow right away, he yanked the leash even harder than he did as they boarded.
A very loud and painful yelp came from the man as he stumbled forward. The only thing that kept him from falling was the wall next to the door that he leaned heavily on while his knees buckled. The toddler was still in the arms of a complete stranger and I don't think the breeder cared. All he wanted to do was escape the public eye but I knew they wouldn't have time for that when I saw his hand vanish into his pants. Water splashed and flooded the floor of the train as he screamed that a babe was falling out.
The breeder had no patience left. He was fully off the train and turned around with a deadly glare as he yanked the leash again. The carrier was harshly pulled out of the train and through a window, I could see that he landed on his side on the pavement. All hell broke loose as people rushed out of the train car and the breeder was knocked on his ass with a single punch from another man. The carrier screamed on his side with a leg hiked up in the air as a fight broke out.
As soon as I stepped off the train, there was a crowd of people from the front cars watching in confusion and horror as a carrier with a spiked collar gave birth on the floor of the station and three other people jumped on his breeder. Water gushed heavily and he reached down to grab it with one hand while pushing down on his belly with the other. When I looked down, his pants were completely soaked and with a single strong push, the first babe spilled out into his baggy pants. He cried out, immediately feeling the second fill the bowl of his hips as two people pulled his pants down to reveal a screaming baby. Someone removed their jacket to swaddle it.
I could hear the voice of a woman filling in a dispatcher on the whole situation as he howled around the head of the second babe. I watched his body heave with every blood curdling scream as the head emerged. It was so big that the people at his side had a hard time holding him in place while he kicked and squirmed from the pain.
Time flet like it slowed when I scanned the crowd and saw that a few men had his breeder on the ground, but he had a perfect view of the poor carrier going insane around the head of his baby in such a public place. The man was smiling wide. He later claimed to a court that he needed the carrier feel as humiliated as he did when he found out about the cheating. And he needed to feel it much worse. It was decided that he'd wait for the first signs of active labor became apparent and force him to walk in public with the babies deep in his hips and ready to fall out at any second.
The first wailed while wrapped in a black jacket and I was snapped out of my haze when the person tending to the first baby, a boy, on the ground looked over at him and shouted "guys, there's the other one!".
When I looked down there was a head inching it's way out of him as he convulsed with pain. As water blasted out around the neck, I was taking my shirt off without thinking of it. No one else seemed to move, so I yelled "I got it!" and dove in to grab the head of the next baby. I noticed the heavy weight in my hand and turned to look at it's sibling who was huge up close. A pang of sympathy hit me when I thought about how pained this man must have been in the weeks leading up to the inevitable birth.
Something caught my eye, and I yelled for him to stop. A purple cord was wrapped around the babe and growing tight. I cupped my hand around the head to keep the shoulders from slipping out.
"IT HAS TO COME OUT!"
"I know, I know, hold on. Please, just wait." I begged as I fumbled around the slippery cord. I felt the power of his next great push as I countered it by adding some pressure to the head, whispering a small "Jesus Christ" as I could feel that this push would be the one.
"IT HAS TO COME NOW! PLEASE! IT HAS TO–"
He went silent for a heartbeat before letting out the most animalistic noise I've ever heard coming from a person. His hips jerked away from my hand which helped me hook a finger around the cord and slip it quickly over the head. The second, another huge boy, gushed out into my hands and I gasped at just how heavy it once he'd fully fallen. I sat in complete shock as it cried in my hands.
I looked up at the breeder again to see that same sinister smile as security lifted him to his feet and shoved him out the station. Seeing the carrier scream out his sons on a subway platform while being recorded and watch by so many people in his most vulnerable moment was well worth a revoked license and jail time. A paramedic took the baby without me even realizing and just like that, it was all over. The crowd dispersed over a few minutes after the carried was taken into on ambulance and I was left kneeling there drenched in amniotic fluid, shirtless, and more aroused than I've ever been in my life.
I soon began to consider becoming a breeder myself.
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((Happy Easter, to everyone who celebrates it. I don't but I thought that would be fun to mention lmao. CW: public birth, humiliation, clothing birth, neglectful partner, dom/sub, dark(ish). ))
It was a common sight but always a pitiful one. Breeders frequently paraded their carriers around in public like prized heifers at a county fair when they grew too large. Stretch marked bellies, smooth bellies, veiny bellies, ones that took on the shape of the babe or babes within. It was almost like a dick measuring contest but it was determined by the size of the carrier at their largest.
My most memorable sighting until today was a carrier who was sporting an elongated, melon-shaped middle that pointed at the floor. Triplets, I was told when I asked their breeder. They could barely walk when and had tears slathered all over their cheeks at the pain in their hips as they trudged along behind their breeder.
But I could only assume they were on their way to a hospital to give birth because they were waddling heavily across the parking lot of the ER with a team of nurses running towards them with a wheelchair.
Today's sighting was different but just as troubling to look at, if not more. A tall, hefty man waltzed around with pride on his face when he yanked on the leash of his carrier as they entered the train. What stumbled in was a petite man with a slender build and a grotesquely large belly hanging from his middle. With how hard the breeder pulled him in, he looked like he'd fall forward and slam his belly into the ground but the hand that held his stomach from underneath reached out and grabbed a pole as he steadied himself. He would have used both hands to better balance himself, but the other was occupied and struggling to hold a very large toddler on his hip. The breeder was shirtless and the child who was no older than ten months old was latched onto his breast.
They began walking to the back of the car where I sat and I got a clear view of the straining belly. The size difference meant the babies under his skin were very, very large. I could tell they were out of room and probably had been for weeks by now. There was a big lump at the top of his belly and another one on the side but lower down. I knew a positioned babe with an engaged head when I saw one. His walk or lack thereof gave it away as well. Bowed at the knees, he waddled/shuffled (I truly didn't know how to describe it) awkwardly behind the breeder who led him to a section where only one seat remained. The carrier was forced to stand with a hardened belly and baby-filled hips as his owner sat down comfortably before they train moved.
A girl who couldn't be any older than 16 quickly stood and offered her seat to the man who looked so close to birth all eyes were on him and his bulging belly. The breeder barked at her saying "he's fine! If I wanted him to sit, I'd let him". The little carrier was so embarrassed and made eye contact with no one as the girl sat down with a frown on her face. Her mother rubbed her shoulder as the pregnant man uttered a quiet "thank you" for her attempt at giving him some much needed comfort.
He was bare from the waist up and on full display for everyone in the read car to see. He began to feel a contraction as the train lurched forward. People watched in sympathy as he went from clutching his tight belly to hanging onto one of the top bars for standing passengers. As the tracks rumbled beneath the floor, his womb grew tighter around two big, due babies. His hips dipped and I could tell he wanted nothing more than to grab his stomach and rub the pain away. Weary, dark eyes stared at the floor as the muscles in his arms tightened while the contraction peaked. He was trying not to grip the toddler too tightly, as she was now fully asleep with her head resting on her father's shoulder while the other sat and scrolled through his phone.
The atmosphere was tense as other onlookers tried to avert their eyes away from the carrier who was now squeezing his eyes and breathing hard through flared nostrils. Seconds later, he couldn't hold back anymore. Something happened that caused the carrier's eyes to open wide and jump. He twisted his hips quickly and let out a loud "OW! OWWWW!" that had everyone, including me, on high alert. Another breeder spoke up this time. I knew she was one because I'd seen her with her carrier over the years through multiple pregnancies. She had one of the healthiest and happiest I'd ever seen.
She stood up and demanded that he sit. Then she reached for the leash but his breeder held tight. "Let go, asshole! You can let him sit for one ride!"
"Yeah, he can take mine!" Another man yelled in front of me.
The carrier was utterly humiliated as he struggled to form words through the stabbing pain in his cervix. "I-I-I'm-I'm fine. I ju-just–"
The breeder cut him off with a booming voice. "He doesn't need to sit! That slimy bastard should've though twice about sneaking out and sleeping around on me last night!"
Ah. This was punishment. Cruel and unusual punishment. It was obvious that he thought the revelation would change their minds but it did the opposite.
"Well, I can see why he did. You're a real piece of work. If I were him I'd cheat on you too!" She yelled back, red in the face. "And I know you didn't wait for him to heal after the last one before stuffing him with two more! Breeders like you are insufferable!"
As I watched the argument unfold, I glanced at the carrier and did a double take when I saw a small, wet stain on light gray sweatpants. No one else seemed to notice and I'm not even sure if he did either. A person next to me was recording the while situation and I'm sure they caught it at their angle. The toddler was now awake and swiveling her heads as the adults argued amongst themselves. The carrier took some of his attention away from his pained womb and soothed the girl as she began to whine at the foul atmosphere. He bounced her gently in one arm as the other held onto the rail. His legs shook and looked as if they'd give out any second.
"Come on, man, look at him!" The person recording next to me shouted at his breeder. "He's about to start droppin' babies!"
"I trained him better than that. He can hold." Said the breeder coldly.
"Can he?" They asked out loud.
"You people think you know my carrier better than me? And how do you know we're not on our way to a birth center right now, huh? All of you are gonna stress the bastards out of him before we even get there!"
They yelled back, "The only birth center in town is in the opposite direction, dumbass!"
"You know what..." The breeder woman sighed as she grabbed the carrier and sat him down slowly in her spot. She unhooked his leash at the same time and lightly rubbed his back, as did the person next to him. Someone else took the toddler and the carrier was now slumped on one side with one hand white-knuckling the seat handle and the other rubbing aggressively at the underside of his misshapen swell. His hips were angled in a way that let myself and everyone who'd known anything about childbirth could tell that a head was dangerously far down and putting pressure on his ass.
His breeder stood with curled lips but someone stepped in between him and the woman.
She and a few others swooned over the carrier who, from what I could hear from the others, was in the throes of transition. Someone asked if he wanted them to check him and he shook his head. They frowned knowing he rejected the offer because his breeder would likely fly into a fit of rage but they didn't push him to accept one. All they could do was offer back rubs and hands to squeeze through contractions for the next half hour until the train stopped.
The doors slid open and the breeder immediately stood. He shoved the small crowd away from his carrier and smacked their hands before slipping thick fingers under his collar and pulling the laboring man to his feet. He cried out and rocked his hips from side to side on instinct as the burly breeder latched the leash on again. After sitting in labor for the duration of the ride, his sac weakened with the lowering babes and what was once a small spot of fluid on his pants had grown to a huge, dark, wet patch that covered his entire ass. The breeder ignored the angry shouts of protest and insults as he walked forward. When the carrier didn't follow right away, he yanked the leash even harder than he did as they boarded.
A very loud and painful yelp came from the man as he stumbled forward. The only thing that kept him from falling was the wall next to the door that he leaned heavily on while his knees buckled. The toddler was still in the arms of a complete stranger and I don't think the breeder cared. All he wanted to do was escape the public eye but I knew they wouldn't have time for that when I saw his hand vanish into his pants. Water splashed and flooded the floor of the train as he screamed that a babe was falling out.
The breeder had no patience left. He was fully off the train and turned around with a deadly glare as he yanked the leash again. The carrier was harshly pulled out of the train and through a window, I could see that he landed on his side on the pavement. All hell broke loose as people rushed out of the train car and the breeder was knocked on his ass with a single punch from another man. The carrier screamed on his side with a leg hiked up in the air as a fight broke out.
As soon as I stepped off the train, there was a crowd of people from the front cars watching in confusion and horror as a carrier with a spiked collar gave birth on the floor of the station and three other people jumped on his breeder. Water gushed heavily and he reached down to grab it with one hand while pushing down on his belly with the other. When I looked down, his pants were completely soaked and with a single strong push, the first babe spilled out into his baggy pants. He cried out, immediately feeling the second fill the bowl of his hips as two people pulled his pants down to reveal a screaming baby. Someone removed their jacket to swaddle it.
I could hear the voice of a woman filling in a dispatcher on the whole situation as he howled around the head of the second babe. I watched his body heave with every blood curdling scream as the head emerged. It was so big that the people at his side had a hard time holding him in place while he kicked and squirmed from the pain.
Time flet like it slowed when I scanned the crowd and saw that a few men had his breeder on the ground, but he had a perfect view of the poor carrier going insane around the head of his baby in such a public place. The man was smiling wide. He later claimed to a court that he needed the carrier feel as humiliated as he did when he found out about the cheating. And he needed to feel it much worse. It was decided that he'd wait for the first signs of active labor became apparent and force him to walk in public with the babies deep in his hips and ready to fall out at any second.
The first wailed while wrapped in a black jacket and I was snapped out of my haze when the person tending to the first baby, a boy, on the ground looked over at him and shouted "guys, there's the other one!".
When I looked down there was a head inching it's way out of him as he convulsed with pain. As water blasted out around the neck, I was taking my shirt off without thinking of it. No one else seemed to move, so I yelled "I got it!" and dove in to grab the head of the next baby. I noticed the heavy weight in my hand and turned to look at it's sibling who was huge up close. A pang of sympathy hit me when I thought about how pained this man must have been in the weeks leading up to the inevitable birth.
Something caught my eye, and I yelled for him to stop. A purple cord was wrapped around the babe and growing tight. I cupped my hand around the head to keep the shoulders from slipping out.
"IT HAS TO COME OUT!"
"I know, I know, hold on. Please, just wait." I begged as I fumbled around the slippery cord. I felt the power of his next great push as I countered it by adding some pressure to the head, whispering a small "Jesus Christ" as I could feel that this push would be the one.
"IT HAS TO COME NOW! PLEASE! IT HAS TO–"
He went silent for a heartbeat before letting out the most animalistic noise I've ever heard coming from a person. His hips jerked away from my hand which helped me hook a finger around the cord and slip it quickly over the head. The second, another huge boy, gushed out into my hands and I gasped at just how heavy it once he'd fully fallen. I sat in complete shock as it cried in my hands.
I looked up at the breeder again to see that same sinister smile as security lifted him to his feet and shoved him out the station. Seeing the carrier scream out his sons on a subway platform while being recorded and watch by so many people in his most vulnerable moment was well worth a revoked license and jail time. A paramedic took the baby without me even realizing and just like that, it was all over. The crowd dispersed over a few minutes after the carried was taken into on ambulance and I was left kneeling there drenched in amniotic fluid, shirtless, and more aroused than I've ever been in my life.
I soon began to consider becoming a breeder myself.
okay actually can't stop thinking abt this tho but like. guy who's having one hell of an orgasmic/birth denial labor session. And it's been hours now, by god does he have to push SO badly.
But it feels so good. The head right there, not quite crowning, but bulging in his cunt. Unbeknownst to him, it's actually stuck there, he's just been denying himself via couch grinding for so long that he's yet to notice.
Finally he scoots over to allow his legs some room to open and he gives in. He pushes, gasping, and a realization hits him that it's stuck- so stuck in fact, that pushing does not even offer respite to his body's screaming urge to push, as it's making no progress.
But with every contraction and push, it feels like he's walking on the edge of a knife, he's so fucking close to orgasm. Finally at the crest of one cramp, he manages to push so hard he tumbles into the most sloppy mind-melting climax he's ever had. Like involuntary yelp-scream level of cumming.
He reaches down to see what's up with his progress and it turns out he's managed to get the head further about an inch. God this is gonna be a long night.
-🛸
🛸 anon, this is superb. i hope you don’t mind me replacing your requested orfice with a different one tho 🤝
Poor dude has spent the whole day prolonging his labor. He put on the tightest pair of his jeans that still fit his low-hanging belly and went on with his life. He cooked, cleaned, even tried to unclog the shower drain.
His ass was up in the air and he was moaning in a delirious bliss as he felt the baby inside him search for the exit as he cleaned the drain. The contracting belly was pushed against the bathroom floor and he couldn’t help but grind against it.
In the evening the urge to push has grown so great he can hardly fight it anymore. He just doesn’t want to give birth yet, he loves it too much. He loves the weight of the baby so low between his legs, loves the painfully tightening flesh of his belly, loves the way his prostate is being abused by constant pressure.
”Ooohhh yes, stay still baby. Stay still a while more– oaargghh!” His airy words turn into a low groan as his contracting belly forces his legs into a slight squat. He needs to push he needs to push he needs to push. He can’t fight anymore. He pushes against the pain and feels the baby instantly move lower. ”No! Aarghh oh no I don’t want it to come yet”, he cries and waddles towards the couch. He hauls a leg over the arm rest of his couch and sits down. ”Ahhhh!” He moans as he feels the descend of the baby come to a halt. ”Ohh yes! Oh yes!” His hips sway back and forth as he grinds against the couch for close to an hour.
His ass is burning, slowly stretching around the head that is trying to exit him. He loves the feeling. After edging for a while longer, the urge to push becomes too much, and he lifts himself up, allowing his natural instincts to take over.
He pushes, teeth gritted, but the baby doesn’t move. ”What?” He groans, feeling behind himself. The head is barely peeking through his entrance. He pushes again on the next contraction, but it doesn’t move at all. His whole perineum is bulging with the head. He just needs to get it out. He tries to loosen his hole around the head, but even it doesn’t help. As he pushes, the pressure against his prostate tenfolds and he’s screaming both in pleasure and pain.
”Holy shittttt get it out of me!” He moans as he sways his hips around, hand stretching his bulging asshole. The contraction is forcing him to keep pushing and he feels like his knees are about to give in any second. ”Oh my God! It’s stuck”, his voice trembles as he tries to get the baby moving by taking pained steps around the flat. His hips are bucking with every step, cock grinding against his belly.
The contraction eases and with a heavy sigh he lowers himself to the floor. On his knees he brings both his hands to his hole, trying to push his fingers inside m. He doesn’t know if the baby is stuck in his pelvis or rim. It doesn’t take long for a new contraction to build. He cries out loud as he’s forced to push against the pain again. He falls to his hands and knees, gripping the floor with his fingers as he doesn’t hold back the scream ripping from his throat as he uses all his strenght to push the baby out. A bit of fluid trickles out of him and the burning at his anus intensifies, and then he has to stop to breathe. His hand flies to his hole at once, only to find the head stretching him open barely a centimeter more.
He has to push again. ”Oh oh oh! Ohhhhh please get out of meeehhhh!” The moans turn into a scream as he forces the baby through his abused passage. His prostate explodes into pure exstasy as his cock shoots its load.
His vision comes back and he finds himself on his elbows, ass high up in the air. His cheecks feel wet, and his rim is burning. The head must be out. That crazy orgasm couldn’t have been caused by anything else. He brings a hand behind himself, only to find his asshole bulging and straining around the head just slightly more than before.
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"This fucking snow, man!" Claire shouted, carefully navigating the van through the snail speed highway traffic while hunched over the wheel.
"Just don't push, Zack, we'll be at the hospital soon," Gus encouraged, dabbing a sweat soaked cloth on Zacks forehead.
"C-coming out, its fucking coming out! FUCK IT BURNS" Zacks voice trembled, eyes wide as his body pushed his far overdue baby through his canal. He couldn't stop it, he couldn't breathe the growing crown away. His legs couldn't stay closed anymore with the bowling ball wedged in his hips.
They should have left the dorms earlier. He should have just have left when his waters broken instead of being forced in a cramped SUV with a sea of cars in front of them and a wall of snow painting the scenary white.
He was so cavalier, so fucking confident, about being pregnant and giving birth. It would was an easy task right? No need for doctors to poke and prod him right? Even for a college student? The way his belly dropped and angled downward as 40 weeks became 41 and 42 didn't deter him. The feeling of having a head wedged so deep in his hips it flared his gait. The back pain, the oversensitive and poked out belly button, the constant writhing of movement didn't break his belief he could do it in the dorms.
Then the overwhelming pain and reality of labor came. The growing feeling of dread as his thighs were coated with his waters. The pressure that drove so deep in his pelvis that it somehow made sitting still and moving maddening.
Now, Zacks legs were spread as wide he could take them in his clothes, belly low, bare and uneven between them. The crotch of his thick, cotton-lined jeans were soaked through and the skin of his pussy was brushing against the fabric as his baby pulled him wide. It has been hours in traffic and He was doing his best to listen to Gus but the pressure — the need was telling him otherwise.
"You can do it just breathe, just keeping breathing, we're almost the-"
"SHUT UP, IM FUCKING TRYING!" Zack snapped, his fingers digging into car seat and the taut skin of his belly.
The band around Zack's belly wrapped tighter, the ring of fire grew wider and hotter.
Zacks mouth opened wide to let out a choked cry as his overdue baby surged forward with just the force of his body. The crotch of his jeans bowled outward, muddy red fluid dripped through the fabric. The pressure mounted and mounted, building upon the prolonged state of his body's resistance. The desire to give in slammed at his psyche. His stomach compressed into a tight ball of muscle as it fought against his tight jeans to pull the lips of vagina to the widest it had ever been.
"I NEED TO FUCKING PUSHAAAAUUUGH," Zack screamed, back arching, giving into his body’s demands. His hands scrambled for the waistband of his jeans to pull them down.
"W-wait!" Gus tried to stop him.
Zack only managed to get them down to his thighs but that was enough for the tight stretch of the crown released with his first push. The head and shoulders slid out of him with a flush fluid. His body recoiled into the seat as his baby shot into his pants. His ears rang and his vision distant as Gus reached into Zacks sagging jeans and pulled out a huge baby.
"You did it, Zack! You fucking did it!" Gus praised.
Zack looked down at the mess he just made of Claire's floor and his baby. His still swollen, stretch mark riddled belly heaved with his breath. His baby squirmed in the hands of Gus as he put them on his chest. Never again, he never wanted to give birth naturally again.
Zack breathed a sigh of relief just at the feeling of being empty. The placenta would be out soon enough and then he'd finally be done with this ordeal. Slight contractions were still making his stomach seize and he could feel it coming forward.
The traffic was still going at a crawl but the hospital was in sight. Zack shifted uncomfortably in his seat — a stronger contraction pushed something firm into his canal. He ignored it...then another contraction rippled through him even stronger than the previous.
"Somethings wrong...it doesn't feel right," Zack's brow furrowed as he grasped his contracting belly. The placenta was hard; it hurt him more than the head that just burst out of him. His swollen belly twisted beneath his palm. "Fucking hurting — uuuuuGGGHH!"
"What...oh fuck me," Gus muttered to himself.
Then a familiar pain spread through out his cervix until it felt like it would snap. The contractions power hiked up in intensity sending Zack into another bout of crying.
"Why! Why is this fucking happening!" Zack gripped his stomach with his free hand. "Why couldn't this be easy?!"
Gus quickly took the baby from Zack as he fell into the depths of his pain. Claire pulled the SUV into the hospital lot.
"What the hell is going on now!" Claire shouted.
"I don't know, just pull into the ER lot!" Gus wrapped the baby in a spare blanket.
Zack was once again struggling not to push. But he was wide open without the will to close his legs forcefully, he realized hours ago that that just made the pain worse.
Claire skidded the car to a halt infront of the ER and ran out the SUV to get help. Gus was trying to calm Zack down with his words to no avail.
The intense drive to push appeared in his mind again. His body forced everything down until he felt his canal filled.
"Need to push...oh my fucking God I need to push! ITS A FUCKING TWIN!" Zack shrieked as the realization hit him.
"Just hold on until the nurses get here!" Gus' head flicked back and forth between his friend and the ER doors.
Zack writhed in his seat, face red as he tried to listen. Just like before, it didn't matter if he didn't want to push, his body was doing all of the work. His hips flared, body quivering, his canal filled to the brim once more.
"It's coming out! ITS COMING OUT!" Zack head sank into the headrest, the ring of fire returned.
The ER doors burst open, a nurse and Claire ran through the snow with a wheelchair. Gus wrapped his arm under Zacks and tried to pull him out of the car. The weight of the enormous head crashed downward as Zack got lifted sending bolts of pain flashing through pussy.
"S-stop! Can't hold it in like this!" Zack begged.
Gus ignored him and kept moving his friend out of the seat. The heavy belly Zack still carried was stung by the cold as were his fluid covered thighs. Each inch Gus pulled him he could feel burn intensify and grow along with a contraction.
"C'mon we're so close!" Gus encouraged.
"Too late, its too late!" Zacks eyes went wide.
The contraction took hold at full strength and Zacks belly turned into a stress reddened ball of muscle. Zacks foot hit the snow and his mouth drew open into a screech that echoed through the hospital campus. His hand gripped the door and the other clawed into Gus' shoulder as the head and shoulders of his overdue baby fell through his stretched canal and into his soaked pants.
Zacks head rolled back, fighting unconsciousness as the nurse covered him and his newborns from the cold and lowered him into the wheelchair. As he was carted into the hospital, he vowed to never let something like this happen to him again.
[for the prompt: someone not realising or admitting they’re in labor, surprise twins, home birth, long labor]
Louis awoke with a groan, hand pressed to the curve of his stomach that felt uncomfortable tight this morning. Being nearly nine months pregnant officially sucked. He had started to experience Braxton Hicks contractions almost every nigh now, his whole stomach would get hard and tense, and the cramps would spread from his back consuming his whole belly. Last night had been no different.
I literally cannot stop thinking about this story. Mmmffgg I need to draw more contracting bellies getting rubbed. Pretending they’re just Braxton hicks, telling the baby to calm down and stay inside… oh my god
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