reoh | 25⬆️ | they/them | 🔞⬆️ ONLY!!! | all my uncensored art will be on my Twitter @ruhrohreoh | secret preg and birth acct shhhhhhh | side acct so i cant follow back...sorry! 😭 | i dont RP please stop asking me lol
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im peanut brittle guy uhhhh. um. I love medieval times trans guys hehe.... maybe orgasmic birth denial? :3 -👽🛸
(A request for anon that donated to my short-lived ko-fi. Thank you king 🙏)
This got me thinking of a classic medieval knight… When he’s inducted into the royal guard, his agreeable personality and keen sparring instinct make him an instant favorite among the other knights. So, it’s no surprise when one of them invites him to his bunk to blow off some steam after a long day patrolling; without much time for romancing maidens, it’s not unusual for the knights to find release with their fellows.
What is unusual is the tight, wet pussy between the new knight’s legs, and the perky little tits that bounce so cutely on his chest when he arches his back and groans to be fucked harder. Word spreads quickly through the barracks, and soon all of the guardsmen are flocking to him, aching to try him.
Our knight ends up heavy-eyed and sleepy during his long patrols, but the others cover for him—after all, they know it’s their fault he’s so poorly rested, since he spends most of his off-duty time pressed between the firm, sweaty bodies of multiple men. Especially after a battle, they often spear him open on two cocks at once, his head bouncing limply on one of their strong shoulders while he whimpers and jerks with the latest in a countless number of orgasms.
His fellow knights are gentlemen, of course, and always pull out, even washing him clean after they stripe his belly and thighs with their seed. But with so many needy, dripping cocks fucking so deep into him, it’s only a matter of time before a slight swell appears just above his hipbones, and he shyly confirms to his questioning lovers that his blood has ceased coming.
The barracks buzz with excitement, musings about who sired the child going quickly by the wayside as each one finds himself caring for the pregnant knight as if he were their husband, and his womb ripening with their own seed. Even those that are at first skeptical of a man bearing a child come around when they lay their hands on the tiny curve of his belly for themselves. As far as anyone is concerned, the child belongs to all of them.
At first, the evidence of the knight’s pregnancy is nothing but a palm-sized bump, detectable only by his most intimate partners. But soon, his growing womb fills out the tunic that was once loose on him, not yet eye-catching, but certainly visible to those who care to look. His chest, too, begins to prepare for the child, tiny tits rounding into tender breasts that must be squeezed into the confines of his chain mail. When his fellows help him out of his armor at the end of a watch, several helpers always stand by, ready to massage his aching breasts, or knead his burdened back, or press their face into his swollen pussy until his tense joints hang pleasure-limp.
His armor seems to grow heavier at the same rate as his womb, his joints straining beneath the combined weight. He struggles, too, to fulfill his duties while so much of his vigor goes straight to forming the babe in his belly. When one day he finally succumbs to his delicate condition and collapses near the end of his watch, the captain of the guard—who has gone to bed with him as often if not more than most of the other guardsman—has him moved to guard the throne room.
Standing on his swollen feet all day still exhausts him, but outside of the occasional uncomfortable shifting as his body aches and his child moves, he draws no attention to himself there. His armor manages to conceal his pregnancy even as his time grows closer—though he imagines the blacksmith who fashioned his cuirass chose its barrel shape to provide empty space for absorbing the impact of enemy swords, not as a vessel to be packed tight with a pregnant belly and milk-swollen breasts. It’s a tight fit, forcing his gut high enough that the child shifts backwards, a strain on his lower spine. They don’t take well to the limited space, protesting with sharp kicks that pinch the wall of his belly against the armor. He longs to rub soothing hands over his bump, but he wouldn’t dare do such a thing while on watch, even if he could reach his belly through the metal.
As the weeks pass, he keeps distending, his child a foreboding point of pressure deep in his pelvis. His belly begins to droop low, and he can’t keep his hands off the raw, stretched skin, scratching at fresh stretch marks and wincing at the growing web of tender veins. The other knights handle him lovingly, often appearing behind him to hold up his belly for a few minutes. In bed, their affections grow gentle, and the pregnant knight becomes accustomed to strong hands caressing his aching breasts while someone’s hard cock grinds ever so gently between his legs, not quite inside him, but giving his clit more than enough friction to have him cumming with a mewling cry.
Finally, he wakes one morning to a great pain in his gut. He screws his eyes shut and clutches the tense surface of his belly, trying to breathe through it without waking his bedmate. When it passes, he rouses the other knight, who helps dress him for his watch. When it comes time to lift his belly as high as he can and compress it against his body so that he can get his armor on, he clenches his jaw and pants through his teeth. His lover, waiting with the cuirass at the ready, asks if he’s okay. He says he will be once he’s dressed.
But that isn’t the case at all. His belly barely fits in the armor anymore, forcing the baby in and down until a terrible pain envelops his pelvic cradle, far worse than his daily aches in these last months. The head of his child feels so, so low.
He prays that the babe will wait to come until his watch ends. In response, another contraction lances through his belly and into his lower back. He barely swallows back his whimper.
But he must fulfill his duty.
He takes his place in the throne room, grateful that his helm conceals the winces and twists of his features as he struggles to endure labor in silence. But it becomes so hot beneath the metal, heady and claustrophobic. He longs to turn and bend over, to hang onto the knight behind him as he rocks his hips. He wants to pace, and groan with his whole chest, and rub his tensing belly.
Hours pass. Vaguely, the knight is aware that if there were an emergency, he would be no help to the king, at this point. All he wants is to be back in his chambers, on his hands and knees, with a midwife comforting him.
When the urge to push overwhelms him, he knows it won’t be much longer. He tries not to, but his body needs it, tugging on the muscles in his belly, tempting his reflexes. He can only resist for so long before finally he indulges in a small push. His mouth falls open as he feels the head of his child lodge suddenly deeper within him, surely passing from his womb into his pussy.
The progress is intoxicating, and he forgets himself after that, pushing as hard as he’s able without moving too much. It’s easier than he thought to stay quiet, the effort stealing his sound from his throat. When a particularly forceful push makes him feel like the head is coming out of him, he finally lets a sound slip, the softest of grunts.
“Is it the child?”
The whisper comes from behind him, a knight much older than him who likes to press extra fingers into his cunt and thumb at his clit when he rides on top.
“Yes,” he breathes, loud as he dares. “It’s- coming out. I think it’s coming out of me.”
Suddenly there’s a hand between his legs. He barely swallows his yelp, a sudden warmth coursing through his body as the large hand feels his cunt through the his trousers. He finds himself very grateful that his tabard hides this impertinence from the court.
“Nothing is coming out,” the knight assures him calmly.
How could that be? “Then soon. I— hng!” He must bite his tongue to keep his cry at bay as the vice closes around him once again, urging the child ever-lower. More heat bubbles up within him as the head fills his pussy and creates pressure behind his clit.
“Oh.” Awe softens the gruff whisper behind him. “I feel it. It’s stretching you.”
“It’s big,” he whispers, struggling not to squirm where he stands. He didn’t expect it to feel like this. It hurts, yes, so much he can hardly bear it, but- this pressure on his most sensitive place… he chews his lip.
With his next push, something gives inside him, a sensation he can’t quite place. Then his thighs begin to grow warm, and he understands. There’s a slight flinch from the hand between his legs, but it steadies again, his fellow knight clearly understanding what’s happened. The babe feels even lower, though there’s less pressure now, somewhat relieving that strange feeling he’s had.
It feels as if barely a minute passes before he contracts again, and he lets his chin fall ever so slightly with the effort of his push. He knows that he shouldn’t do this, that if a babe drops from between his legs before the whole royal court, he’ll be found out and imprisoned, or at the very least stripped of his knighthood. But he can’t help it. He must push, as vital as his breath.
And what a push it is, heaving the head low and making his mouth fall open as the awful stretching pain ignites into the worst agony he’s ever experienced. The pressure, too, increases somehow, right against that special place. His clit, already rendered to a sharp point of pain, begins to twitch and swell all the more.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes against his visor. Ever so slightly, he rocks his spreading hips and his baby-filled cunt back against his fellow’s hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“I feel it. It’s huge. I can’t believe that’s coming out of you.”
Neither can he. Desperately, he wishes to scream, or drop into a squat, or lay back on the floor and pull his legs as far apart as he can get them. He’s almost relieved when the next contraction comes.
He pushes so hard that his thighs tremble, and wheezes through his teeth as he crowns into his lover’s hand, cunt burning, pressure growing. God, it really feels like he needs to…
No, this isn’t the time. He puts everything he has into breathing without making too much sound, the air thick and thin at once in the confines of his visor.
The next one comes, and the sensation in his clit winds sharper, making him instinctively squeeze his legs together. For a moment he feels like the head is about to burst out behind his thighs, but the knight’s hand stays firm, and the head simply bobs where it is, an instant of relief before it returns to a full crown.
“Hah- aah—“ He feels drool tickle one corner of his mouth. His lover holds the head just-so, keeping his cunt stretched to its absolute limit, burning all the way back towards his arse, and that pressure…!
“Okay,” the other knight whispers behind him, “let me try…”
He begins to push the head back in. The birthing knight flinches, his deepest instincts railing against the sensation, but before he can fully register what’s happening, the widest point of the skull digs into that special spot inside him.
Despite clenching his mouth shut, a high moan buzzes in his throat. His baby-heavy hips roll into his lover’s hand, and jolts of pain shock through his paper-thin pussy lips and the stretched flesh inside of his hole, his clit throbbing so strongly that he would have screamed in any other place.
He cums and cums and cums, until tears wet his cheeks and birthing fluid bursts in spurts from his pussy.
The knight behind him simply whispers, “Fuck,” and lets up, allowing the stimulation to ease, though the returning crown chases all of the pleasure with fiery pain.
The birthing knight is left trembling. He doesn’t even have the strength to push when he contracts again, but his body still manages to nudge the baby forward, and his lover responds again by easing the head back in. Lust and fear flood his chest, unsure if he can handle cumming like that again, but it washes over him all the same.
It goes on like that for the rest of the watch. He doesn’t cum with every contraction, but he feels like he will, sometimes teased for several minutes before the next one hits him. Soon there is no thought in his head but the blinding, white-hot pleasure-pain between his legs, and the ecstasy that keeps flooding his body, even as it shivers with pain.
He doesn’t even notice being dismissed by the change of guard, just starts walking blindly when his companion urges him to move, still holding the baby in. The clatter of so much armor drowns out his groans as his wobbling legs struggle to carry him, his ongoing birth feeling like a boiling welt even as he shudders through the aftershocks of his most recent orgasm.
Knowing they won’t make it back to the barracks, the other knight pulls him into the first empty room they pass and pulls the door shut. As he lays his back against the wall, the birthing knight thinks the babe will simply drop out of him the moment it’s no longer held in, but when the other knight starts using both hands to unfasten the cuisses from his thighs, his battered cunt somehow hangs onto the child’s head.
The left cuisse clatters to the floor, then the right, and the other knight reaches for the laces of his trousers. But his body has already tightened again, and he’s already bending at the knees and finally releasing the gravelly, animal groan that’s been building within him as he pushes. For a moment, he fears the head won’t even fit after all of that, but with one last snap of pain that makes him break into a small yelp, the head is born. It stretches his dripping trousers, a sight that leaves his helper speechless for a moment.
He feels the child turning within him, and cringing at the strange sensation, keeps pushing. A shoulder or an elbow digs into that place that makes his clit jump, and with one last gush of fluid, he cums the shoulders out. The child tumbles into his trousers while his pussy spasms and twitches.
While handing him the child, his companion eyes the tender-red place between his legs, dripping with birthing fluid and arousal. “Next time, we need to make sure everyone sees this. They’re not gonna believe me when I tell them how much our boy likes pushing bastards out of his cunt.”
That cunt tightens, and he squeezes his thighs together and whimpers, cumming to the promise of next time.
Birth Denial Ask:
🫃🍼1️⃣🏠🩲🫴🏳️🧍/🦵⌛🎚️ 💦
Hope this wasn't too much
(Birth Denial Request Game)
This definitely does make me think of a guy with a massive birth denial fetish engineering his birth so he can live out his fantasies… maybe he’s lied to his friends about wanting a home birth with only the midwife there, but actually it’s just him, 42 weeks pregnant with a baby so big that any doctor would have induced him a month ago.
When he goes into active labor he puts on several layers of tight clothes, and it works like a dream. He’s able to push the head right to his entrance, but no further. It’s agony, the massive head making his cunt burn, the pressure making him fidgety and listless, clinging to furniture and hitting walls to help him bear the intensity. He loves every minute.
The best part is the huge weight feeling like it’s falling out of him, yet still kept inside, pulling his hips towards the floor. He paces the house bow-legged, and keeps squatting instinctively, crying out as he feels his cunt spread just a little, the head straining his perineum. With all the layers on, the head can barely move even in a deep squat with what feels like all the gravity in the world trying to drag it out of him.
He reaches between his legs and feels how his body is struggling and bulging, then draws his fingers forward and hisses through his teeth as he finds his tdick. He rocks his hips back and forth and touches himself to the intensity and pain for a long time, until finally he cums with a scream and feels a desperate pressure-pain spike through his whole undercarriage as his abused pussy tries to squeeze with his orgasm.
Finally he decides it’s time to take off a layer of clothing. The moment he peels the leather pants down, he feels the head sag lower inside of him, his cunt stretching and the burn making him groan. The contractions are unbearable, and he’s exhausted from pushing already, but he keeps going, leaning against the wall and reaching down to feel the ever so slight bobbing of his crotch as he’s able to get the head a little further.
He drags this on for ages. Once he’s completely exhausted himself, he lays down in bed for the night with his legs spread around the struggling head and rests fitfully through contractions. The pain is like nothing he imagined, and he isn’t even turned on anymore, but he still wants it, needs it, addicted to the feeling of the massive presence pushing his body apart.
By the time he stands up in the morning, he feels like his hips aren’t even connected anymore and like the baby must be hanging out of him, but shedding a layer and feeling reveals that only a teardrop of the head is showing, his pussy still clinging jealously to the rest. He keeps pacing his house, making almost constant noise now, whimpers and groans that sometimes drop into silence as he pushes.
He ends up setting up his phone to record, getting out his favorite vibe, and taking a long video of himself leaning on the kitchen table, pleasuring his cock while the massive head spreads him. The overhead light catches his crotch beautifully, the shadows perfectly detailing every time the head inches a little further out with his pushing, before being pressed back in by his spandex shorts.
When he cums, his yelp of pleasure rises to a scream as the orgasm pushes the baby further. The camera records his perineum bulging several full inches away from his body as the head threatens to crown.
“Oh godddddd it’s about to come ouuuuut! It’s gonna crown, I’m stuck almost crowning,” he groans for the video.
He ends up taking his phone with him as he paces the house, rambling to the camera about how heavy it is, how much it hurts, how full he feels. “It’s so much inside me-“ he pants, cut off with a cringe as he pushes. “Hhhhhhh…! Fuuuuck!”
He drops the phone on the ground, and it watches him squat on top of it, filming his massive overdue baby crowning into his pants. He screams, fingers fluttering down between his legs as he desperately wants to touch, but fears to.
“It huuuurts!” He screams. “My pussy! Fuuuck, it hurts my pussy!” One of his hands fumbles away, only to return with the vibe from his pocket. The head spasms in his cunt and a long, agonized scream strains the phone’s recording capabilities as he presses the vibe to the tiny bulge of his swollen tdick.
“It’s too much!” he wails. “Too much on my cock, fuuuuck! No no no!” His hips lurch and tremble. Then suddenly his frenzied noise peaks with a truly startled screech as the crown lurches forward. The head should pop all the way out, but the clothes prevent it, keeping it easing dramatically in and out with the spasming of his pussy as he cums.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” He starts to bounce a bit where he crouches, whimpering as the head keeps up its ebb and flow, in and out. “Fffffffuck, I don’t want it to end,” he groans. “S’what I’m made for, made to push out babies, need my cunt full…” A few more delirious sounds. “Hmmmhhgh… M’so open right now, my pussy’s as big as my fuckin’ womb, not even a pussy anymore, huh, it’s- just a birth canal, I’m just a birthing bitch— AUGH!!”
The idle rocking of his hips and his own words wash over him, and the head almost bursts out as he cums, but he reaches down and holds it where it is, sticking so far out of him that it fills his whole hand. “Fuuuuck! My pussy, my pussy!” He whines like a dog. “Fuck, not yet, not yet… need it, need more…”
Audio distortion and strange shadows mark the video for a moment as he fumbles to pick up the phone. A moment later it lands back where it was in the kitchen, and he limps into frame with his hand desperately between his legs. “Fuuuuuck, I’m pushing, it hurts so bad, I’m pushing!!”
His face drips sweat, veins standing out on his forehead. The camera catches his heaving belly, contracted right up under his chest as his exhausted body desperately fights him to get the baby out. His shoulder trembles as he strains to keep it exactly where it is, even as he pushes against it.
“Oh goddddd…” He tips his head back, chest jumping, eyes clenched shut, “I need it, I need to push it out, fuck, fuck, I have to—!”
His eyes squeeze tight and his voice goes silent, all his effort diverted to pushing. He falls forward on the table, the head already straining the fabric of his bottoms. After a moment, it lurches even further out, at an odd angle as he births one of the shoulders.
“Augh!” His back heaves, head hanging as his body sags with relief. He squirms a little oddly for a moment, his spine arching and making the shape of the half-born baby strain his pants. “Hmmmmm fuuuck, fuck,” he moans, shuddering as he cums, “it’s coming out, I’m pushing it out, fuck, it hurts, I’m pushing it out of me!!!”
With a final shudder, he thrusts his hips back, and the crotch of his pants sag with the weight of what looks like a toddler. He clumsily reaches down to catch them, and waddles awkwardly towards the camera while he struggles to get them out. The video ends there.
He keeps most of it for himself, though he does clip the very end and remove the sound from it so that he can post it to social media: “Man Delivers Sixteen Pound Baby In Unassisted Home Birth”
While he’s healing up, he peruses the comments looking for his next breeder. And when he’s found the one, he’ll send the video and ask if they’d like to join him this time.
(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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Did anyone else read It's Perfectly Normal when they were younger? I'd never seen what birth looked like down there before, so I was amazed when I first saw this. I already subconsciously thought of birth as sexy but this did not help lol. The artist did not have to draw her naked or her body that sexy. Her naked body, the scrunched face, her hand gripping the bedsheets, the spread legs, the obvious painful struggle, her wide crowning. It's easy to see why I developed a birth kink, it's everything a birth lover wants wrapped into one package.
My half of a trade with @ruhrohreoh, featuring his OC Noon. This was fun to write, and I hope it's fun to read too!
~*~
Noon was excited. Once upon a time, he might have been a little anxious under circumstances, but not today. He'd been preparing for this, and more importantly, he'd been anticipating it for ages.
He gave himself one last look in the mirror. He'd gone all out for this one. He'd lotioned his skin, conditioned his hair, and even polished his horns. And of course, he took a good long look at his favorite feature.
Noon flashed a toothy grin as he ran his hands over the enormous swell of his belly. He'd been big before, but now he was huge. It looked like he had swallowed a yoga ball. The skin was taut and pink and covered with pale stretch marks, which he didn't typically get, owing to his heritage. It was enormous and unwieldy and bloated and he'd never felt sexier in his life.
"Damn," he said to his reflection. "You look cute as hell."
Satisfied that everything was as good as it was going to get, he walked over to the tripod where his camera was set, hit the record button, and plopped himself down into the soft chair he'd painstakingly dragged over.
"Hey there, OnlyFreaks!" he said, grinning at the camera. "Noon here. It's been a while since my last upload and you're about to see why." Just in case it wasn't clear, he gave his belly a playful slap.
"In case this is your first video… well, you should go buy more of my videos! But before that, my name's Noon and I do ovi videos. Thanks to everyone who voted me into the #3 spot in the category, by the way! Let's see if we can't hit #1. But anyway… yeah, it's been a hot minute. And it's all because of this."
He shifted his position, making sure the camera could clearly see the little pink emblem painted right between his belly and his groin, resembling a stylized womb with a padlock over it.
"Normally, I have an egg cycle every three or four weeks. But thanks to this little glyph, I haven't passed an egg in over three months. It's been agony, lemme tell you. I've felt so heavy. But today… it's gonna come off. And I'm honestly not sure what's gonna happen when I do! So everything you're about to see here will be my genuine unscripted reaction."
With that, he flicked his wrist and a little glass vial full of blue liquid materialized in his hand. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and upended the contents into his hand, then reached around to rub it into the glyph. It was a little tricky due to the size and angle, but he managed while only looking a little bit silly. He felt pins and needles spread over the spot while the dispelling agent did its work, and when he removed his hand, he could see on the monitor displaying the camera's feed that the glyph was gone.
Noon let out a sigh. "I don't know how long it's going to take to happen, so let me take a moment to talk about my newest sponsor, OviPositive DX Plus! I bet you're wondering—"
Then Noon went bug-eyed as his belly visibly began to quake, then winced as he felt something shift, and seconds later something gave way as what felt like a whole gallon of viscous fluid erupted from his pussy. When the flow finally subsided, he was left gasping.
"Hoo. Okay. Sponsorship is going to have to wait. I should get comfortable, 'cause I think I— HNN!!"
Noon felt himself seize up as he felt an egg drop into place, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was starting to push. So he did the only thing that felt right and leaned into it, hiking his legs up over the arms of the chair and hanging on tight as his muscles squeezed. Within a matter of seconds, he could feel that familiar burn as his lower lips began to stretch.
"F-fuck!" he stammered. "It's coming out already? Nngh, I can't stop it, it's coming ouuUUUUT!!"
And seconds later, a bright blue egg slipped out of his pussy with a wet pop, landing safely on a cushion below.
"Holy hells," he murmured, wiping his brow. "I've never had one come out of me so fast before. Maybe this was—"
His voice broke as his abdomen tightened up again and another egg slid into place, taking a similar trajectory to the first one, and was followed almost immediately by another, leaving Noon gasping and panting.
"That was… a lot," he said, looking back at the camera with a tired smile. "So far so good, though! And my belly has barely gotten smaller… how many more do you think are in me?"
He sat there for a few minutes, catching his breath and massaging his belly, but aside from some micro-contractions, not much was happening. Just when he was starting to wonder if he should pause the recording, he felt that familiar pressure once again, only this time it wasn't moving. He could feel it right there, down low in his hips and just shy of slipping into his canal, but it hadn't moved any further than that.
"Guess I gotta help this one along," he said. Then he took a deep breath, gripped the arms of the chair, and pushed.
He could feel his muscles starting to strain as he sustained the push, and if those muscles weren't quite as well-practiced, he would have faltered quickly. But he held on, grunting softly as he continued to bear down, until he finally felt something give way, stretching out his passage, and this time he could visibly see his belly changing shape, the whole of it starting to drop downwards.
And noon felt a cold sweat break out over his face as he realized how many more eggs he had left:
One.
He didn't have time to panic as he felt another hard contraction. Even if he had wanted to get up now, it would have been impossible. He needed this egg out of him. He began to rock his hips back and forth, inching the enormous egg forward little bits at a time, feeling it fill his pelvis. He soon found a comfortable rhythm of resting and pushing in short bursts, and little by little, he could feel progress being made. He wasn't sure how long it was taking, as there wasn't a clock within his field of view, but it certainly wasn't fast, and he was starting to tire.
"Okay… almost there," he gasped. "Can feel it… right there."
And sure enough, the skin around his pussy was bulged out to an obscene degree, but the egg was not yet visible.
He continued to rest himself for as long as his body would allow… which turned out to not be long. The contractions came hard and fast yet again, and he tried his best to push with them. Through scrunched-up eyes, he could see his lips starting to part, the egg's shell barely visible for a moment before they closed over it once again. He took a quick breath and tried again, and the same process repeated. Even after several more pushes, the egg wasn't making any more progress, and Noon could feel his heart thumping.
"Oh no," he whined, trying to steel himself. "Stuck… it's stuck… can't get it out…!"
He needed to work harder. He needed to get it out of him. Groaning, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around himself, and when he could feel himself contracting once again, he squeezed as hard as he could. Then his eyes shot wide open and he let out a shrill cry as he felt the egg start to slip free. He didn't want to rest and lose whatever progress he'd made, so he just kept at it despite the way his muscles ached, pushing it out of him more and more. Every time he'd thought he was about to pass the widest part of it, he was proven wrong as he watched himself stretch open wider and wider, more than he'd ever thought possible.
"Oh fuck!" he cried, his voice cracking. "Too big… it's too big… I can't do it! I'm gonna break! I'm gonna be stuck trying to lay this egg foreverrrrrrr!"
Eyes watering and face beet red, he leaned forward and put everything he had and a little bit that he hadn't known was there into a massive push, crying out incoherent words of pain and pleasure as the massive egg continued to open him up, so huge that it was spreading his legs apart.
"IT'S TOO BIG!" he yelled, unable to stop himself! "It's splitting me apart and I'm stretching so much and it's so big need to push need to lay need to cuuuUUUUUUHHHHH!!"
In a moment that felt like a crash of thunder, his body was overloaded with pure ecstatic sensation as his body birthed the colossal egg, expelling one last torrent of fluid along with it. It felt to the ground and made an audible thud where it landed.
Noon didn't know how he lay there after word, splayed out like rag doll. But when he found the energy to lift his head again, the first thing he did was make sure the camera was still recording.
Perfect.
"I can't believe I did that," he wheezed, rolling over in his chair and flopping over the arm. "That was insane. That was unbelievable. I wonder what'll happen if I hold off for four months…"
Jacob knows as soon as he wakes to an empty bed that today is the day.
He gets up immediately, quickly finding his robe and slipper and going in search of his mate. They'd been preparing for weeks, ever since Thiago had mentioned he thought he may be pregnant. His belly had rounded out quickly, swelling full and heavy as the days passed.
Jacob checks the normal places the man had considered for their nest - the couch, the closet, the pantry. They've prepared all these places for delivery in case Thiago had chosen to labor there.
But each place is Thiago-less, despite there being evidence he had been there. The blankets on the couch are in disarray, a pile of clothing pulled from their hangers and made into a half-hearted attempt at a nest, and the portable nightlight theyd placed in the pantry was on.
There's one more place that Thiago could be, and Jacob isn't at all surprised to find him there.
He creeps into the laundry room quietly, careful not to disturb his lover as he shifts around in his nest of old blankets and clothing in the corner of the room.
A light sheen of sweat is glistening on his skin, his thick black hair tied back as he lays on his side, palming softly at his heavy belly. His eyes are heavily lidded, flicking up in Jacob's direction as he steps into the room.
Jacob tiptoes across the room, knowing good and well not to enter the nest without Thiago's permission. Instead, he settles on his knees outside the nest, watching in quiet trepidation as his mate lifts his head to look at him.
His eyes are still heavily lidded, a hazy look in his eyes that leads Jacob to believe that they might not have very long at all before he begins birthing. He pets gently at his hair, a hand slipping down to hold his side as Thiago scoots a little closer to him in the nest.
"Is it gonna be soon?" He asks softly, feeling their litter shifting low inside Thiago's heavy belly.
The doctor had said at least four, an average for Thiago by now. This was his sixth litter in as many years, and by this point they'd learned what to expect when the time came.
His waters haven't broken, that much is evident by the lack of mess in the nest, but the contractions are certainly close enough together for Jacob to assume he's in active labour by now.
Thiago nods shakily, shifting his hips in discomfort as something rolled under Jacob's hand, preparing for delivery. They were low in his belly, slotting up for the next part of this journey.
"They're low-" He murmurs, laying his head back down on the side of the nest and stretching his back out, "Any minute now, I think."
And indeed, as the words heave his mouth his sides draw tight, his stomach contracting harshly enough that its visible to both of them. Thiago closes his eyes, panting through his open mouth as his sides heave. Jacob feels the pressure begin to build, pulling at his partner from the inside as he continues to pant rapidly.
His legs stretch out, extended fully as the contraction peaks, his body stiffens. He grimaced suddenly, a grunt escaping him when something changed inside him.
Jacob immediately knows what just happened, especially when a moment later Thiago begins to arch his back, his leg instinctively bending and planting flat on the ground as the first of their litter began pressing its way down inside of him.
It gives Jacob the perfect view of his swollen pussy from this angle, the barest hint of a bulge beginning to form at the junction of his hips and pelvis.
Thiago spends the next few contractions in this position, leg held open as his belly heaves and tightens above it. The baby sinks lower and lower, the defined shape of the mass steadily bulging him out until it reaches his lips.
It sits there for a moment, looking so heavy and round inside of Thiago while the rest of the litter contine to make their way down. Thiago pants and whines, his thighs shaking and his breath coming in rapid puffs as his instincts begin to take over.
"Oh- it's right there." He grits out, teeth gnashing as he rocks his hips, thigh shaking from being held open.
Jacob nods, watching intently as Thiago squeezes his eyes shut and starts panting again, the bulge between his legs starting to come down low enough that its fully pressed against his slit.
The bulge looks big, his lips just barely managing to hold it back. Jacob wants to reach out and touch, but knows not to yet. Thiago will ask for help if he needs it, so Jacob sticks with stroking the heaving side of his pregnant belly and softly petting his hair, cooing soft affirmations to his laboring mate.
It's not long before he's grunting, shifting his legs apart even further and resting a hand on the side of his globe of a stomach that's spilling out heavily across the nest in front of him.
Thiago pants rapidly, still clutching at his belly with one hand when his back arches, and he draws up one leg so that his hips are open wide.
Jacob watches in amazement as his lips part, his bags of waters bulging from his slit in an amazing way that always humbles Jacob every single time he sees it.
"Oh god, my waters -" Thiago groans out as he tries to snake a hand around his heavy belly to feel his slick, open hole, "My waters are coming out!"
He can't quite reach around his heavy belly to feel, but for a split second, his fingers press against the bag that's now ruthlessly holding him open. He pushes against it, trying to release some of the pressure that's coming from being split open like he is.
"You're doing so good," Jacob murmurs softly to him when he relaxes slightly, "So good, baby, you're stretching so well for me."
Thiago only gives a soft flick of his ear to indicate hes heard Jacob, instead sinking back down against the edge of the nest and shifting and squirming to get himself comfortable.
Its a fools errand, and they both know it. For Thiago, there's no escaping the pressure and pain of birth until he's... well, birthed. But he does move around a good bit in between the contractions, pausing only to arch his back and push the bag of waters further out of him.
It's during one attempt to move that something changes once again.
Jacob has taken to sitting cross-legged outside the nest, just watching Thiago do his thing, when suddenly he all but spins around, crawling forward on all fours before flopping down roughly with his back to Jacob.
He draws his leg up again as hed done before, and Jacob watches with rapt attention as he begins to push. This time, the contraction seems to pull tighter, the muscles in his glute and back pulling tight as Thiago suddenly lets out a guttural moan and pushes desperately.
He lows desperately as his cunt stretched into a perfect O around the bulge that's now pushed out into the world. Thiago yowls as his waters spread him wide, his legs kicking and straightening as he bears down instinctively to get the baby out.
And then suddenly he manages to toss his hand behind him, slipping down between his legs and cupping his own waters. Thiago lets out a hiccupy groan as he wriggles his hips just slightly, then begins to push again.
He's only just beginning to bear down, his sides drawing in, when suddenly his bags burst in his hands, shooting out of him and spraying against his palm in an arch.
"Oh fuck, Jacob, the water broke! I'm about to-" He gasps and grunts, sides heaving as his cunt begins to bulge outward again- this time with the head of their baby, "I'm about to... oohhhhh!"
He flops back against the nest, still on his side as his legs go straight out when the head slots into place and begins to part his cunt.
Jacob sits up further, watching over Thiago's side as he shakes and cries out, the head rapidly slipping forward and then sinking back in when the man pauses to pant harshly.
Theres no time between contractions now; his mate sucks in a few rapid breaths then gives a few rapid pushes as the head continues to slide forward.
Its not until its well and truly splitting his cunt apart that Thiago begins to get a bit more desperate, twisting and kicking out his legs as it comes closer to crowning.
Jacob manages to scoot himself down to the side of the nest, settled between his mates' legs. He brings a hand up to push at the inside of Thiago's left leg, holding it and back.
He has another perfect view of his pussy like this, flushed and leaking as it spreads wide around the top of their baby's head.
It's incredible, Jacob thinks. Even after doing this so many times, it's amazing to see his mate birth their litters.
"Oh, love, you look so beautiful like this." Jacob whispers in revelry, his thumb stroking over the soft skin of his thigh, "Come on, push that baby out."
Thiago lets out a half sob, half moan as he grabs hold of the side of the nest, his fingers clawing at the fabric as he tucks his chin to his chest and bears down. The baby’s head pushes forward again, centimeter by centimeter slipping out until finally - finally - the head comes to its widest part.
"Ohhhmmmygodddd!" Thiago shrieks, throwing both hands down between his spread legs to cup the head, "It's crowning!"
His cunt is stretched so tight around the head that for a split second Jacob worries that he'll tear.
He never had before, and this baby wasn't any larger than they usually were, but there was just something about his lips clung to the curve, a perfect moon of dark hair keeping his mate wrenched open around it, that made a spark of worry in him.
"Easy, easy baby -" He hummed, pressing his hands overtop of Thiago's to cup the head, "Let it come."
"It's already coming!" Thiago cried balefuly, his hips pushing down into their entwined hands as his belly tightened again, "Oh god, l have to birth it!"
"Slow down, love, slow down." He crooned, pressing gently against Thiago's hands to keep the head from coming too quickly, "You don't want to tear."
Thiago sobs and nods shakily, his hands letting go of the head and going instead to his thighs. He grits his teeth and groans, feeling his body pushing despite his best efforts to stop it.
The head bulges even further against Jacob's hands, slipping out until the brow is exposed, and Thiago is writhing and groaning under him.
"Oh fuck, the baby is coming out -" Thiago groans as he bends his knee and draws his leg up again, "It's coming out! It's coming out of me!"
And indeed, it is coming out of him.
Stretching him open obscenely as more and more of the brow slips out, almost to the eyebrow. Thiago whimpers and pushes his hips forward, his breath rapid pants that make his whole belly heave.
It takes incredible focus not to press to harshly on the head, to keep the counterpressure light. It's even more difficult that Thiago's body isn't getting the no pushing message, powerful contractions all but shoving the head out of his cunt.
The eyes are out, Thiago's hips bucking against the pressure as he pants and sits up on his elbows to look at Jacob.
"I'm about to- fuck, I'm gonna birth the head!"
And then he's really pushing.
His thighs shake, hips jerking and tail rigid as he pushes again with a cry, and the head pops free from the catboy.
"Heads out -" Jacob tells him quickly, even though he knew that Thiago was already aware of that fact.
He doesn't answer anyway, too busy scrambling out of Jacob's hold again.
At some point, he decided that birthing this kit laying down was no longer an option because suddenly, he was up on all fours.
His back arches, shoving his pussy back into Jacob's hands so that he's holding the head in place, and then he bears down with a watery moan.
"Stretching- fuck, it's stretching my pussy!"
The head rotates so that its facing his thigh, and then Thiago dips his hips low as the shoulders bulge between his legs.
He shoves down hard once, twice, and then in the third wild, desperate push, one shoulder slips free.
Thiago falls forward onto his elbows, the second shoulder shoving its way out of him.
"Guhhhhhh! Here it comes!"
And suddenly, with a burst of fluid and the most ancient, gutteral sound that Jacob has ever heard, the baby is laying in the nest underneath Thiago.
"Oh! I pushed it out!" He gasped, scrambling to roll over onto his back, "Oh god, the baby is out of me, babe!"
Jacob scoops it up, finally slipping into the nest with his mate. The baby wails as soon as it's on its parent's chest, indignant and happy to let the world know.
"Good job, love," Jacob pressed a kiss to Thiago's sweaty forehead, "Catch your breath before the rest come."
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One of my favorite things about birth is just the utter lack of control.
You can't control when the contractions begin, right in the middle of a terrible thunderstorm that's knocked out the power and the phone lines.
You can't control when they jump from fifteen to nine to seven to five minutes in an hour, the baby sinking lower and lower in your pelvis as you waddle your way around the house in candlelight.
You can't control when a contraction overtakes you right in the entryway to your house, causing you to grip desperately at the console table by the door and spread your legs wide, you're water breaking as you arch your back at the the release of pressure.
You can't control the grunts and gasps leaving your mouth as you waddle to your bedroom, urgently grabbing the phone only to let it clatter to the ground when a new contraction takes hold while the clear static of a dead line comes from the phone.
You can't control the way your belly drops over your lap, the baby sliding down inside you and making its way through your hips. It's coming fast. You had to be close to going into transition, and you had no way to contact anyone for help.
You can't control dropping into a squat, your hands clutching at the bedspread as you let your legs spread wide. "Oh god, " You gasp as your back arches and your belly contacts, "Oh god, I'm pushing!"
You can't control when your body begins pushing for you, the muscles tensing as the head drops through your cervix and begins to bulge out your lips from the sheer size of the baby making it's way through you.
You can't control the noises coming out of you as your lips spread into a teardrop shape, you're hand slipping from the sheets to cup at your bulging pussy. Your hand barely covers the mass that's emerging from you, and for a moment you feel dizzy with worry about how large the head is.
You can't control when the next contraction comes and you have to arch your back again, bearing down on the huge head as the teardrop shape opens even more into a wide, perfect O as the baby slides forward.
You can't control the fluids dripping and squiring out of you, spraying out around the head as you push harder and harder to get the baby out of you.
You can't control the visceral urge to narrate everything happening to you despite the fact that you're alone. "I- I'm stretching!" You cry as more of the head pushes into your hand, "Stretching so much! This baby is so big!" "Mhhh oh god, it's coming out!" You groan, your hand cupping the head as you birth it by the side of your bed, "It's coming out, its coming out of me!" "I'm crowning!" You can't help but scream when the head bursts into a full crown, filling your palm with its incredible weight, "Ooohhhhh I'm pushing it out! I'm giving birth right now!"
You can't control how you squat even lower as the baby's face begins to emerge, the eyebrows popping free with a gush of fluids. The rest of the face requires a bit more effort, the nose stretching you so thin you can feel it tugging behind your poor, abused clit. You rock your hips up and down, trying desperately to force the baby from you as if you're going to dribble it out like a basketball.
You can't control the cry of relief to let out when the head bursts free. "It's head is outtttt--" You moan as your pussy flutters for a brief second after being held open so wide for so long. Your legs shake, threatening to give out a you check for the cord.
You can't control the sound that you make when you look over your shoulder and see your reflection in the mirror. The way your legs are spread, thighs open wide and resting close to the ground as the baby's head hangs so heavily from your stretched pussy.
You can't control the desperate urge to just lay down and birth your baby, so you give in. One hand cradling the head to keep it from being jostled, you lay down on your side, letting the hand that was holding the head now grip behind your knee, hooking your thigh open as the head rotate and the shoulders slot into place.
You can't control the way the shoulders get stuck for a brief second. You push wildly, your thighs trembling and your belly squeezing and your pussy working hard to expel the huge baby inside of you. "Ohhhhh-- Come on baby, " You gasp ruggedly as you throw your head back, pushing hard and clenching your teeth, "Come on, you're so close, I can feel you!" And you certainly can feel the way the shoulders bulge against your hole, stretching you so thin you think for a moment you may tear.
You can't control the gutteral moan that leaves your mouth as you pull your leg up and open, one hand clutching at your huge, contracting belly and the other holding your leg open at the ankle. Your hips stretch do wide you think they may break, but you can't do much about it as the shoulders begin to open you up and you babble nonsense. 'My pussy!" You cry as one shoulder pops through, more fluid splashing out of you as your belly heaves, "Ughhhhh, I'm giving birth-- I'm pushing it out, oh fuck, it's coming out of me!" The second shoulder pushes free to, the rest of the baby coming out with a sick gush onto the floor beneath your sites thighs.
And you certainly can't control when you're water breaks for a second time as you try to catch your breath, a familiar weight dropping through your cervix as your huge stomach contracts again and your first baby begins to wail between your legs.
Hugely pregnant omega werewolf who doesn’t realize he’s been in labor all day suddenly gripping his alpha’s arm in public and whining, “I’m gonna whelp in my pants, oh my god, I’m whelping, I’m whelping in my pants! Oh god—it came out! I whelped it out!” and then struggling with his zipper as the second pup of ten begins to crown.
His alpha’s strong hands move his aside to undo the omega’s zipper. He whimpers, trying to hold back, but his body is pushing on his second pup against his will. He feels his alpha reach inside his ruined boxers and withdraw the first squirming pup. How did he not know he was in labor?
His alpha pulls his pants down around his knees followed by his boxers.
“Good boy,” he says. “My pup is coming right out of you. Beautiful. Spread your legs. Good boy—now push.”
“I can’t—I can’t! Everyone is watching!”
“Push, baby. You’re already crowning.”
The helpless omega gives into his body’s urges and pushes. He feels himself stretching wide, wider, and then it’s out.
“Good boy,” his alpha says. “Don’t push, lean on me.”
The omega hangs on to his alpha’s arm and looks at their two new pups in either hand. In moments he’s being bundled into the back of a cab, his pants still down, his sensitive cunt still visible to all on the sidewalk. His alpha climbs in after him with the pups and barks the address to the driver.
The omega hears the driver’s voice. “What are you doing? He can’t just whelp back there!”
“Then get us there quickly,” his alpha growls, low and dangerous. The cab peels out from the curb.
“Do you need to push, baby?” the alpha asks.
“Y-yes,” the omega says shakily. “I think so.”
“Turn towards me.” His alpha maneuvers him until his back is against the opposite door of the cab and his feet are up on the seat. “Good boy. Knees up. Lean forward and push.”
The omega does what he’s told and strains on the third pup. He feels it squeeze through his cervix and into his birth canal.
“Ow—ow…ow! It hurts!”
“I know, I put some big pups in you. Keep pushing.”
“Ow, ow, ow, owwwww, ohh, oh it’s coming, ohhhh, OHHHHHHH—OWWWWW. Oh fuck! It’s out! Fuck, it hurt so bad coming out, fuck! Ow, ow, ow, the next one is coming!”
“Push, baby.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Oh god—oh my god! Aughhhhhhhh—ngh!”
“Good boy, that’s four.”
The omega collapses back against the cab door, panting and quivering. “It hurts….”
“I know. But you’re almost half done.”
The cab careens to a halt.
“You better not have made a mess back there.”
“Ignore him, baby. We’re almost home.”
His alpha helps him out onto the sidewalk, somehow juggling four newborn pups as well. The omega leans on him as they shuffle towards the gate to their building.
“Hold onto the gate. I’ll unlock it.”
Pressure begins to quickly mount between the omega’s legs. “I think I’m whelping again,” he whimpers.
“Okay, baby. Hold onto the gate and bend over. Legs wide. Okay, push.”
He pushes and feels his pup barrel through his birth canal. “It’s coming—it’s coming fast! Oh! Oh! Oh, I’m crowning, ohhhh—fuck!” The pup nearly shoots out of his cunt.
“Good boy, I’ve got it. You’re whelping so well.”
His alpha manages to unlock the gate and get the seven of them inside. In the elevator the omega whimpers and crouches to whelp again.
“I can’t keep them in! I’m sorry—it’s too much! They’re just coming out! It’s coming!” He pushes hard and births the sixth pup out into his alpha’s waiting hands.
The elevator dings and slides open at the penthouse. His alpha helps him partway across the entry hall when he starts pushing again.
“I’ll be right back,” his alpha says, and strides away with the six newborn pups.
The omega pushes and reaches below his belly just in time to catch the seventh pup.
“Oh god…I just whelped…”
Suddenly his alpha is at his side again. “Let’s get you to the couch.”
Halfway to the living room the omega feels himself pushing. “Oh…ohhhh.”
“We’re almost there, baby, hold on.”
“I can’t! I can’t! It’s coming out!”
Still holding his most recent pup, the omega squats low and whelps his next pup out onto the floor.
“Fuck…I’m sorry…oh!” He pushes another pup out directly onto the floor. “Fuck!”
His alpha crouches behind him. “They’re okay baby, the pups are fine. Push now, I’m ready.”
The omega whimpers as his tenth and final pup begins to inch out of him.
“Oh, it’s bigger…it’s big…ohhhh, it hurts. It hurts! Oh god, oh my god! OH GOD, OH FUUUUUUCK.”
With a final desperate push, the last pup lands in the alpha’s hands.
“Good boy, good boy, you whelped my litter,” the alpha soothes, rubbing his back.
Before the omega knows it, he’s been laid on the couch with all ten pups squirming around him, and his alpha is calling the midwife and the wetnurse to tell them the good news.
imo the cutest part of giving birth is right before the head starts crowning n ur cunt looks all big n puffy n swollen keeping the new life inside u just out of sight ^^ stretched out from ur tummy to ur hole fulfilling ur purpose as a toy, heavy n hurting so bad but still feeling so good despite having to push hard in front of a room full of drs bc ur being such a good breeder bitch <3
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person in labor in too much pain to stand up collapsing to their knees and dropping to the floor as their baby forces its way out
versus
person in labor in too much pain to NOT stand up leaping to their feet as soon as it starts crowning, screaming and lifting one leg to try to push it out
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