I know you're in labor. But it's just us. Anything said here won't leave this room.

Poor thing. You've had to smile for everyone for so long. Had to act so happy, so excited. You told me how everyone made you feel so weird, so gross any time you expressed anything even close to how you really felt about this pregnancy.

But now... It's almost over, hon. And I'm here. You know I'll listen. You know I won't judge. Before this baby comes... You can tell me how you really feel. About your body. About this baby. All of it.

Ladies, you deserve to know the truth. When we say you look cute, this is what we actually mean.

We’re fantasizing about how good it’d feel finishing deep inside you, knowing that your belly will soon begin to swell. We’re picturing how low, heavy, and round your tummy will become, how your belly button will pop out from all of the pressure within. We’re imagining ourselves worshipping your belly, feeling its immense weight in our hands as they glide over your soft skin and across your intoxicating curves.

We’re envisioning you on your back, your legs spread wide, your huge overdue belly framed between your trembling thighs, your face sweaty and red from your labors. We’re hearing you begging for help, moaning, and screaming as you struggle through painful contractions, desperately trying to force an impossibly large object through an impossibly tight space. We’re picturing the midwife’s cruel fingers inside you swinging side to side: forcefully, mercilessly, and incessantly teasing your most sensitive spot open as you bear down. We’re imagining just hot and tight your contracting belly would feel to the hand, and how your legs would shake and tremble in agony as you experience the ring of fire. We’re thinking about what a good girl you’d be for pushing as hard as you can, no matter how bad it hurts; about how beautiful your face would look as you bear down in pain. We’re hearing you shriek as you finally push the head out, fantasizing about your hips bucking and fluid gushing out as you cry out. We’re dreaming about you heavily pregnant again, about you back in the delivery room, even as you loudly protest having those wide shoulders pulled out past your sore lips. We’re hoping you’ll be our breeding plaything forever.

Their owner doesn't say anything about it but he fucks them on their back now, groping their swollen stomach and fondling their newly heavy, sensitive tits.

Eventually they get so big that they can barely walk. Their belly is tight and heavy, streaked with angry stretch marks. Their tits ache constantly, nipples swollen and puffy. Sometimes they leak little beads of white liquid. Their owner loves kneading and sucking on their tits now. They're so sensitive that it makes them sob and writhe.

The poor pet is miserable. They keep asking their owner what's wrong, why is their belly so big? But their owner just tells them it's normal, they're going to be just fine. They're starting to worry that they're going to be stuck like this forever, that their belly will keep growing and eventually they won't be able to move at all.

Finally one day they're woken up by a horrible pain in their belly. The pains keep coming all day leaving them crying and whining, desperately rubbing their huge stomach. Their owner doesn't seem concerned. He pets them and shushes them and tries to distract them by fingering their hole and sucking their leaking tits.

The pains get worse and worse. There's so much pressure on their hips. They kneel on their owner's lap, rocking their hips and crying into his chest. He pets them and whispers soothing nothings into their ear but they can feel his hard cock pressed against their stomach.

The pet thinks they're dying. They're so scared that when they start feeling the urge to push they try to fight it. Their owner tells them to let go and listen to their body but they sob and shake their head. They're so confused and overwhelmed, nothing makes sense and everything hurts so bad. They wail and struggle through each agonizing contraction fighting desperately against the overwhelming urge to push.

Eventually they can't hold out any longer. They give in to their body and bare down, screaming as the head of their first baby stretches their hole way too fast. They stretch torturously around it. It hurts so much but they can't stop pushing. They heave and shove, tiring themselves out, desperate to escape the burn as the head inches out of them. Finally the head bursts through. Another screaming push and the rest of the baby slides out. They slump, too exhausted to even be curious about what came out of them.

I waddle to the bathroom, my back aching from how heavy my belly has gotten. The boys were due two days ago and yet haven’t made any moves to come out despite our best efforts.

I leave the bathroom and head towards the hall. If I can’t sleep I might as well get a snack. Going up and down the stairs hasn’t been easy but I take my time and make it down eventually. The promise of cookies and peanut butter keeping me going.

It’s in the kitchen you find me, leaning forward on the counter, groaning as I feel the first real contraction. I feel your hands on my back, massaging my hips gently.

“Baby, what’re you doing I could’ve gotten you some snacks,” you say, your voice gently but concerned.

I breathe deeply as the contraction passes, pushing myself back up, sighing as you slide your hands under my belly to support it. The babies kick in against your palms, my skin tight and red.

“I couldn’t sleep…just wanted to get a snack,” I reply, closing my eyes as I lean my head back in your chest. I smile as you kiss my cheek and neck. “You have work I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You can always wake me up. You three are more important,” you say as your hands roam my belly more, pressing against the twins as they struggle to calm down after the contraction. “You’re gonna pop any moment now and I’m here to take care of you.”

I turn my head and kiss you, pressing my belly against you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss me back, holding me as close as you can with our babies between us. “Come on let’s go back to bed. I’ll grab your snacks.”

I nod, starting my slow journey back up the stairs. “Oreos and peanut butter please. And a red Gatorade.” I call over my shoulder.

I hadn’t even made it halfway up the stairs when you’re next to me, snacks in one hand, your free one going to my back to help me up.

When I finally reach the stop I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I make my way back to bed, sitting heavily and leaning back against the headboard. You set my snacks next to me, smiling as I put the peanut butter jar on my belly and scoop it out with the cookies.

“These two need to come soon,” I groan. “They’re so heavy now…”

I feel your hands on my belly, rubbing cool lotion into my skin. “I don’t mind them cooking a bit longer” you giggle.

“You don’t have to carry almost twenty pounds of baby,” I reply, play hitting your arm.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like being this big.” I close my eyes as you kiss my belly, your fingers teasing my belly button. “I know how much you’ve liked growing my babies”

I moan and reach my hand to you, rubbing my fingers through your hair. “Mmm it has been fun seeing how big I can’t get…especially with two babies.”

“Might just have to put three in you next time.”

“Promise?”

You smirk, coming closer to kiss me properly.

“You’re gonna grow nice and round for me again and again”

friend groups of dads competing to see who can give their gf the biggest baby