squirming bellies

Something lands on your head. Something slimy and squishy. You panic and try to brush it off, but it sticks to your hand now. When you point your flashlight to see, it illuminates a strange, large slug-like creature. You barely get a look at it before it slithers underneath your sleeve. You panic, dropping your flashlight as you try to pull the creature from your clothes, but to no avail as your attempts just slide off of its slimy body. It travels lower down, from your shirt to your pants. You can feel it enter into your underwear, pushing its head inside of your pussy. When you try to grab at it, it slips right through your fingers as it wiggles its way deeper. Your knees buckle as it forces a moan from you, disappearing inside of you quick and pushing into your womb. When you catch your breath, you can feel the weight of it inside you. Out of options, all you can do is press on.

But as you walk, you feel another one attach itself to your ankle, quickly worming its way up your pant leg. This one is equally as persistent as you try to stomp or shake it loose, undeterred as it presses onward. Your flashlight briefly illuminates more of them. At least a dozen, slowly making their way towards you. You have to ignore about the one already attached, rushing towards the next tunnel to crawl through and escape. On the other side, you’re only met with more wide open caverns. As you take a few steps forward, you step on something squishy causing you to slip and crash onto the ground. The slug you stepped on attached itself to your boot, now making its way up towards your entrance like the others. You scramble to try to throw it off or scrape it against the rocks around you, it barely reacts to your attempts.

In your panic, you barely notice the other slugs swarming you. By the time you notice, at least ten of them have attached themselves to crawl into your clothes. You give up on trying to get them off again, fleeing for the next tunnel. As you crawl through, you can feel them shoving themselves through your entrance to reach your womb. You pant and groan as you crawl slower this time, legs quivering as they squirm against you and each other. Your flashlight falls ahead, rolling out into the next cavern.

As you catch up, falling on your side to pick it up, you’re met with a horrifying sight. Slugs everywhere in this new cavern, all noticeably thicker and longer than the ones from before. You’re still overwhelmed, belly beginning to swell with all the slugs still entering you. You try to call for help, but your voice echoes for no one through the unexplored caverns. Slugs swarm over your body, and no amount of struggling and flailing loosens them. As the first of big ones reaches your entrance, you grunt and moan around the slimy intrusion, legs quivering as they all push against each other to get into their new home. A particularly large one pushes up against your entrance, stretching you out wider than the others as it inches deeper and deeper. It makes its way into your womb, allowing more and more to swarm and follow it. Your belly grows bigger and bigger, and it’s getting hard to tell how many are in there. Their squishy, slimy bodies squirm and roll against your insides, the pressure growing tighter and tighter.

When you find a burst of energy, you force yourself to your knees. Holding your swollen belly with one hand, already looking more than overdue, you stagger and waddle towards the tunnel with your flashlight in your other hand. Hope sparks in you as you reach it without falling, squatting down. But as you lean forward to try to crawl through, you’re stopped. Your belly is pressed against the stone beneath you, and you realize the slugs inside of you have made you too large to fit through the tunnels.

You fall back from the tunnel entrance, feeling the next huge slug wriggle deeper to join the countless others. Your belly is heavy, so heavy that you aren’t sure if you can stand up again. The strained flesh rolls and shifts with the movements of the creatures that invaded you, only growing more intense as more of them join in. You collapse into a mess of whimpers and moans, the pressure all too much to handle. And still, there’s countless more to come.

Just completely giving into my impulses and ramming my grith in and out of his pussy while he desperately struggles to stop me. Choking him while I make his tits bounce from the force of my hips slamming into him. And laying my body weight into him as I pump him full of my litter.

I just wanna own a guy's cunt like that. While he begging me to stop and spurting on my length against his will, I wanna mark my territory with my cum and get him so fucking pregnant

you'll be soooo so pretty if you just open up your pussy to whoever asks and let them plant their seed inside of you i promise!! i know youd get so horny hearing somebody groan "get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant" in your ear as they fuck you raw and hard. making sure they're balls deep when they cum inside you to make sure not a single sperm is wasted

its gonna feel so good to rub a big taut belly all day. pumps suckling on your puffy, engorged nipples to express the milk you're producing. its gonna feel so so good to have a fat baby bump spreading your thighs apart because you let someone claim your womb as their own. imagine how good its gonna feel to be stuffed full. all you have to do is spread your legs, maybe poke a few holes in a condom... c'monnnn

Movement is painful and unpredictable. Hard enough to pull and tug at the skin but not yet break.

Who knows how many are inside? The movement is too rough and it hurts to touch, to try to feel. It hurts more and more as they grow. And push.

And the belly gets more and more uneven and tight and painful and the movements get stronger and more unnatural and the pressure . . . The weight . . . Oh God.

Oh my god I love the thought of pregnancy movement soooo much too nonnie. Just the fact that's its undeniable activity/proof that there's something alive inside your stretched out middle is so attractive. Already stretched skin undulating with life as the babs/litter inside you perpetually squirm. Being able to feel every shift of movement inside you as they writhe. Just knowing you're carrying something alive? And then not knowing how many you've got crammed in your overstuffed pregnant belly. And all you can do is wonder as more and more different sources of movement start making your belly more misshapen.

AND WAIT, I just registered the belly growing every time you feel a kick prompt!!!

"I'm going to pop you today," I murmur, running my hand over the curve of his swollen belly. The skin is stretched taut, warm under my palm, the faint throb of a pulse beneath it. His breath hitches when my fingers dip lower, tracing the stretch marks that fan out like cracks in porcelain. He doesn’t pull away. He can’t.

His thighs part instinctively when I press between them, the slick heat there betraying him. The scent of him is thick, musky, ripe with pregnancy and arousal. I drag my knuckles through the wetness, watching his stomach jump as he shudders. "Still getting off on this, huh?" My thumb circles his clit, slow and teasing. "Even now."

He whines, high and desperate, hips twitching up into my touch, pushing his back against the bed. His chest has become tits, and they are heavy, leaking, and I squeeze one just to hear him gasp. The dark pink of his nipples is almost purple, sensitive from pregnancy hormones. I pinch hard enough to make him cry out, but his groin jerks forward and a dark flush spreads down his chest. His body responds so clearly to me.

I spread his legs wider, kneeling between them. He obeys with ease. The head of my cock nudges against his soaked hole, and he tenses at entry, not to resist, just the instinctive clench of a body too used to taking me. I push in slow, savoring the way his cunt grips me, hot and greedy. His belly bumps against mine as I bottom out, and he lets out a broken moan. "Fuck," he breathes, voice wrecked. "Fuck, fuck..."

I drag out almost all the way before slamming back in, making him arch off the bed. His swollen stomach bounces with the force of it, his tits slapping down on the mound, nipples hard and beading. The wet sound of our fucking fills the room, mingling with his choked gasps. He’s squeezing around me like he’s trying to milk me dry, the back of his thighs trembling against my hips.

Leaning over him, I press my palm flat against the underside of his belly, pushing up slightly, just enough to make him whimper. "Think this’ll break your water?" I grind deep, twisting my hips to rub against that spot inside him that makes his toes curl. His whole body jerks, a ragged cry tearing from his throat as he cums, cunt pulsing around me. "Fuck, you’re real close," I growl. "Aren’t you? Close to cumming. Close to popping."

I don’t let up, driving into him harder, the bed creaking under us. His hands scramble at the sheets, his back bowing as another orgasm rips through him. The slick gush between his thighs wasn't just arousal now, his hole keeps clenching rhythmically, his breath coming in shallow pants. "Please," he sobs, voice wrecked. "Please, I can’t..." But I don’t stop. Not until I’m buried inside him, spilling deep as his stomach tightens under my hand.

His belly quivers, and I watch his face twist in confusion before realization hits. His water was leaking and now breaks in a warm rush between us, soaking the sheets. He whines, thighs trembling, his hole still fluttering around my cock. "There it is," I murmur, dragging my fingers through the mess. "That's a good boy. There is it." He looks wrecked, tears streaking his cheeks, his beat red, swollen gut heaving with every breath. "You’re gonna push for me soon, aren’t you?"

I pull out just to watch his cunt twitch, gaping and slick. He whimpers when I shove two fingers back inside, curling them deep. "Fuck, you’re not so tight anymore," I groan. "Your body is getting ready." His hips jerk, oversensitive but still hungry. I scissor my fingers, stretching him wider, feeling the way his body fights to clench down. "You wanna cum again? Before the real work starts?"

His answer is a broken moan, his thighs shaking as I rub his clit with my thumb. He wouldn't say no even if he could. He’s so close. I can feel it in the way his breath stutters, the way his cunt grips my fingers like it’s begging for more. I lean down to bite his nipple, hard, and he screams as he cums from that alone, his stomach tightening in a way that’s not just pleasure anymore. "Good," I whisper against his skin. "That's my good boy. Let's get this baby out of you."

I flip him onto his hands and knees, a task much harder now than it was 10 months ago, despite his full submission. His swollen belly hangs heavy beneath him, resting on the bed. He gasps when I shove between his cheeks, his pussy still throbbing from his last orgasm. The angle’s deeper like this, and I can feel the way his body tenses around me with every contraction. "Push," I order, slamming into him harder, my hands gripping his hips. "Fucking push." He sobs, but his body obeys, his cunt clenching rhythmically as he bears down.

The head of my cock pushes through his ass cheeks and I know he is hurting from his other opening. His whimpers are raw, his fingers clawing at the sheets. But both his holes are still slick, still hungry, and when I reach around to stroke his t-dick, he breaks, another orgasm ripping through him. "That’s it, bitch," I growl, feeling his body squeeze me impossibly tighter. "Take it. Take all of it."

His scream is ragged when the next contraction hits, his stomach visibly tightening as his cunt convulses and bulges slowly. I can feel the shift inside him from below, the pressure building, and I don’t pull out from his ass, not even when he sobs my name, not even when his body locks up, his back arching as the first real push tears through him. "Fuck," I grit out, thrusting deeper, my fingers digging into his flesh. "Let me feel you work."

His thighs are slick with sweat and amniotic fluid, his hole clenching in waves as the baby crowns. The stretch is obscene, his body opening impossibly wider around the child forcing its way out. His t-dick twitches untouched, I flick at it and give his belly a pat, producing a wet echo. His breath is coming in short, panicked gasps. "You’re doing so good," I lie, not really knowing. My voice is rough, my hips are still moving, fucking him through it. "Just take it."

The moment the baby slides free, his body squeezes down hard, greedy, even now, milking my cock as I groan and spill inside him again. He collapses onto his elbows, trembling. The newborn wails between his legs, and he attempts to move down to see his baby, but I don’t let him and I don't pull out, not yet. I stroke his t-dick from behind instead, slow and teasing, watching his spent body jerk. "Baby is fine. You're going to give me one more. One more," I murmur, pressing my lips to the sweat damp curve of his spine. "Just one more. For daddy. Then you can admire my work."

sex pollen x rapid pregnancy

scientist are trying to fix the bee extension crisis by creating an aphrodisiac to help queen bees repopulate. It works, but in the process, the accidently end up infecting themselves.

The queen bee does repopulate the species, but ends up creating super bees. I guess a couple of scientis got stung then boom, there fucking eachother and now they end up rapidly pregnant themselves. A couple of bees end up escaping, and now any unlucky person who gets stung has a long day head of them..

Trying to force-fix things humanity broke and end up making evertyhing worse. Classic.

Although, experimenring on nearly extinct species directly was out of the question. After all, one mistake could just doom their entire species instead of saving them. Instead, the scientists would need something bees are associeted with, something they are know like and even need on the nautral basis. Something like...

Plants. Or to be more precise, flower pollen. That would be the medium through which the scientists affect the insects.

But the time was ticking, and the bee population kept on decreasing. Rush was crucial here, and so was precision. They could not risk giving their experimantal solution least they were sure it works.

It took a few weeks, but they managed to artificially grow a flower that produces pollen enhanced with genome of a hive queen's reproductive instincts. In theory that should kick off bothher workers and the queen herself into repopulation frenzy.

As much as they would want more testing of the solution, there was no time left for it. The world population of bees outside of this facility has already dropped so low the media talk about just a few hives remaining in the entire world.

So, with hopes high and prayers in hearts, the flowers were introduced to the bees who quickly brought it's pollen back to their home... and it worked!

The bees experienced a sudden population growth, doubling, even tripling their larve production within minutes, an outcome far exceeding any estimation!

Oh the joy and happieness the scientists felt, driving them into a premature celebration right then and there. Big mistake in any laboratory. Their sloppy behaviour starteled bees, kicking of the protective instinct to sting the intruders.

But the stungs, uncomfortable as they might have been, did not stop the jubilee. The party continued, turning personal, intimate even. Scientist on a scientist, man on a man, the joy turned into a lustful choreography spread across every part if the facility, both in and out.

Everyone with everyone, some in pairs, others in groups, so entranced they were none has recognised something was off, at least not in the manner not caused by their erotic behavior. Each man whose been taken, his stomach visibly swelling within minutes, maybe even seconds, turning their moan and groan filled farce of lust into a belly-touchy commentary on breeding and due dates.

By the time they all got back to their senses, they were all heavyly round, swollen abdomens weighting them down as they try to figure out what has happened to them. Task of uncertain difficulty, but constantly disturbed by their newly found inability to focus without additional carnal activity every few minutes.

The answer? Each and every one - Pregnant. Gravid. Expecting. Wombs filled by a man standing just a few feets away. Bellies round and heavy with offspring. Guts stuffed with life squirming within.

Further tests revealed an unexpected truth, one relating directly to their bee-task. While their solution did increase the repopulating capabilities of bees, it didn't do it by making the queen lay more eggs, quite the opposite. Upon interaction with the queen, the male workers became capable of getting pregnant with her, trait that apparently can be shared with different species through stings.

That is an amazing discovery both in terms of bee-saving efforts and human fertility! Since the scientists were the only few ones affected, giving them the oportunity, and potentually unlimited ammount of bees, to fully flesh out the outs of this scenario... at least in between the moments when their lustful tendencies act up.

At least that was their wishful thinking. With their erotically careless state, they managed to let a few insects out to the outside world, spreading the genetically modified pollen to mix with other plants out there. The bee extenction might soon be no more, replaced instead by a stung-spreading infestation of masculine population causing unending lust and rapidly gestating pregnancies.

Soft slithering limbs birrowing below his outfit, curiously they explore the surface of his skin.

Side to side he sways and struggles, futile efforts to free himself from the tendrils' grasp.

The creature strangely amused, though not by the moans and grunts of his struggle. Its attention drawn by the peculiar wobbles of his distended stomach following the erratic movements of his body.

Determined to witness more, the limbs pulled away the fabrics of their subject's clothes, the curved surface of his belly exposed for further observation.

For a moment, the being stopped, its movement ceased as if eyeslessly observing the scene in front. Swollen orb of a gut hanging heavily from the man's frame, so vulnurable yet powerfull.

Slightly higher, his chest breathing deep and quick, a sign that his body taken its meeded break from the struggle. Above all, face contorted into a mischievously wicked grin, not from discomfort or exhaustion, but and regrettable enjoiment of not being the one in charge.

The brief inspection leaving the thing yearning even more, it pulls its examinee's legs upwards for a new angle of observation.

He grunts and he growls, the weight in his body shifting with the whim of the other until his back bends inwards from the immense pull downwards by his dangling belly.

With the new position, the man's stomach redefined, reaching shape rounder and even on all sides, much to the amusement of his captor.

Finally reaching curiosity beyond mere watching, a wayward tentacle pokes onto his belly and immidietly contracts back, it's expectations of soft and squishy surface met by strange tenderness instead.

As the initial shock ceased, the appendage is back and pressed onto the strange surface of its subject, point by point exploring every inch of it.

Smooth skin stretched over the outward stomach, the tendril moved along its area, amused by its peculiarity. The man moaned in reaction to the touch, rubbing movements pleasant enough for him to relax.

And then, unexpected, an equal force pushing from within the man's belly. Every touch, every place, the outward movement reacted, meeting the tentacle wherever it went.

Entertained by the behaviour, more of the tentacles joined the game, all pressing onto the surface of the man's gut, unaware that they have caused the first movement from the pregnancy he carries within his womb.

As the creature's atention diverged onto the play, its grip has been loosened upon the man, granting him a chance to free himself, should he want to.

instead of a steady growth throughout the whole 9 months, you do one month of growing all in one day and you stay like that the whole time until the next month.

watching yourself grow bigger and bigger in the privacy of your own home

not even your biggest t-shirts fit

getting all of your affairs sorted out beforehand so that your only job for those last couple months is to grow and push it out

seeing all of your friends out living their lives on social media while you're hiding a baby belly in your apartment

ignoring their texts/saying you're busy with work

waking up one morning with your belly dropped and more distended than ever. really facing how big of a mistake you have in there. holding it in your hands, standing in front of the mirror. really looking at yourself

regretting everything but it's too late

giving birth alone and scared

dropping it off somewhere safe in the dead of night

and then, after a few days of frying your brain with back-to-back sitcoms while you heal a bit, trying to get your milk to dry up, going back to your life as if nothing happened

the growth comes in bursts. you're going about your morning when it surges out, enough to push out your stomach and make you very aware of the weight now growing inside you.

another a few days later. your stomach gurgles and then you're noticeably rounder, noticeably heavier. whatever is growing inside the eggs squirms and you've started to feel them shift.

with the next burst, one that happened in your sleep and left you soaked and so heavy it makes getting up a struggle, you're starting to worry.