thinking about working in this little shop, maybe a bakery or small diner, where part of your contract to work there is to go through a full term magical pregnancy. but they aren't going paying you when you're outside of work, so for reasons to do with labor laws or whatever, your pregnancy gets paused. you only grow when you're clocked in for work, meaning that a full nine months of pregnancy takes over two years to complete even when you're working full time (and most of the employees are only part-time). imagine coming right up on the end of a pregnancy, maybe overdue, and ready to be done, and you get a few weeks off for the holidays. Last year maybe you were at the end of the second trimester, big but not massive. Just a little inconvenient. this year you have to get all the way to the New Year with this cumbersome belly, stretched and exhausted, just waiting to go back to work and throw that little apron on so you can be unburdened.
The bakery is definitely the strangest place I have ever worked for. The pay was fantastic—more than I could have ever imagined getting in my entire lifetime! Really, there shouldn't be a reason why I was overcompensated for such an easy job. That was until I had finished with my training and officially hired.
The owner was a wizard—very old, very powerful being—that had only one condition for me to even be considered as a worker. They had a fruitful side hustle as surrogacy business (the place was merely a façade to keep the magickal government off their tail) and in order to be brought into the fold you would need to fulfill pregnancy contracts for the customers. Not only had the background check been meticulous in its contents but my medical history had been gone over with a fine toothed comb. If I were honest hearing that I was still being considered with my medical problems it blew my mind. Raising that concern the owner explained magical remedies that would heal any ailments that would otherwise cause pregnancy complications, meaning I would be the perfect surrogate for the babies. I didn't hesitate a moment while white knuckling the pen to sign the dotted lines.
I should have read the fine print.
———
There clearly was nothing standard about this operation. To quell any magickal suspicions these pregnancies were enhanced in very special ways. The fetuses were perfectly healthy and safe, the pregnancies were as normal as possible given one big circumstance. The pregnancies were elongated and you only progressed while you were on the clock.
As terrible as it sounds to an outsiders prospective, this is easier to handle. With the slow growth I was able to go about life normally for much longer without worrying that my secret would be revealed. Though the nausea and overall discomfort were murderous in the beginning my first trimester took six and a half months—I barely looked any different! Every scan I had showed a perfectly healthy pregnancy which meant more money being added onto my already cushy check. It all felt like a fever dream.
As the weeks turned into months of growth I had begun to realize I was enjoying this. As much as I had felt anxiety over passing nine months I was able to get into the groove of this magickal pregnancy. It was easier with my coworkers in the same predicament in so many different stages for us to all bond together. Though taking the mandatory holidays for Thanksgiving and Christmas were difficult—there was no extra growing and it felt like my skin was burning with power that was ready to burst forward. Stepping back into the bakery I swore up and down that I grew about four inches around the middle from this surge of pregnancy magick.
Now that I'm nearing the end of this pregnancy a whole two years later, I am more than ready to pop. The babe is very happy in here having parties every day of the week and even midnight (let's be honest here it's more like three am) dance battles to show off their moves. As much as this little nugget has brought happiness, excitement, and joy into these long years carrying I clearly need a break. My skin is stretched tightly across my womb with no trace of skin unmarred by red stretchmarks. I'm not angry about it since most were there before I got pregnant. What I will miss is having someone this close to me when I needed them and experience the craziness of pregnancy over an extended period of time.
What I really truly hate is that I'm stuck at home now until the fifth of January. It wouldn't be terrible if I wasn't on the cusp of labor with false contractions for the last three weeks or the equivalent of a bowling ball sitting heavily on my pelvis. The baby shows no signs of being ready to leave their warm home but I'm very certain that there will be a visit to the birthing center in the coming days after I start work again. I don't think I'll be the only one either. My one coworker has twins and he is very ready for those buns to be delivered as soon as possible.
Even with this bump in the road I can see myself doing this all over again. Possibly requesting to go part time for that pregnancy—to really relish in my slow growth and see how different it feels
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You're growing - no, that's the wrong word, you're ballooning. Your belly certainly looks like one, from how red and tight it is. In under a minute, you went from chubby to this - every available inch of your fat is being put to use... and you're still growing, still bloating into a brood factory... will you burst? The pressure is immense. You have to hold on...
Too big. I'm becoming too big——it's all so fast I can't seem to focus on anything but the steady expansion of my gut. It aches and burns to stretch farther than a human should be able to. How can I even continue on like this, with nary and end in sight?
Except. I don't want it to end. I want to see how big I can become, to witness how my body can stretch into the impossible. You see, I must take care of whatever is causing this phenomenon. They're my children. I love then with my whole being—body, mind, and soul. No matter how much longer I have to go through this rigorous growth spurts I will forever adore them.
💭 Keeping someone in your womb so you develop the breasts you want~
oooooooo you are cooking with this one!
Finding someone who is happy to be apart of my little experiment. Honestly I'm not sure how well this would work but it's all in good fun and scientific curiosity!
I need that influx of hormones to help along my breasts to the size I desire pre-milk. If I keep myself in the early stages of the first trimester for the first burst of hormones then give myself a growth spurt after a couple months.....I may just boost my size up a cup and a half in a few short weeks rather than months.
Trimester two adds milk ducts to the picture. I'll feel heavier, my body preparing me to be a milk cow. I'll give myself more time to add heft to my chest. I'm growing another cup, two—wow I'm popping out of my custom G cup already. My chest feels fit to burst with the pressure building behind my nipples. Those are also large and sensitive. They look comical, the thickness of an expo marker and always perky. No matter how I press them down or ice them will they not press through my clothes. People won't stop staring.
Gods. Trimester three....now it's really showtime. I've gotten to an I cup in what feels like days after my latest growth spurt. Nothing fits anymore. My heaving chest feels and looks like two oversized watermelons. That's even before my milk comes in! I'm almost to a K cup. I can make it. The pup is starting to grow restless.....and heavy. I can't imagine it's too comfortable being cramped for so long.
It'll be soon, I'm sure of it. When my milk comes in I'll be done. Maybe I can go find someone else to really test my limits next time
Who or what do you have in there this time, daddy?~
It's a secret 😋
Well, you're adorable I'll tell you. I got a bit too friendly with a werewolf that freshly started their rut. It would have been nice for them to let me know how virile they were with humans.......I never expected to fall pregnant after one session.
Sadly I don't know how many pups are in this litter. I'm only three months along and, as you can see, this is how full and active these pups are. All I know is there is at minimum three but in all my research I could have as many as six pups kicking around in my belly! That's the average........what if there's more than six pups? 😳😳😳😳😳
Coming up to you from behind, and lifting your belly. "Aw, who's this cute little guy? You were empty the last time I saw you~"
Oh, this one? A sweet guy asked to start over and I gave him a chance.
I didn't expect him to be this heavy so early on. I'm only six month, six months, and this little bugger is already EIGHT POUNDS. This bump is large, in charge, and ready to barrel into anything that gets in the way. What's even crazier is the doctor say everything is normal. My last appointment they commented on how his father must be a giant (ha) and that I'll be dealing with an eleven pounder at MINIMUM once I'm ready to deliver.
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You have a particular reputation on campus. See, when college kids inevitably fuck around and find out they're pregnant, they're pointed your way. You're able to take the trouble off their hands, in exchange for favors. After all, carrying sooo many babies is hard work; you deserve the help~
It's easy to be the talk of the school when you take on the job of being the campus baby daddy.
At first it was an accident—a close friend got too close with the star soccer player and ended up pregnant. They were not ready for parenthood so I put it out there that I could take the baby. The magickal process was easy and it gave me practice for my personal studies which were falling behind due to my college classes. I didn't exactly tell them it had to be kept secret.
Not long after the first baby a few of their classmates came to me for solace. Some were just notified of the pregnancy while others had been hiding the steadily growing swell for months. I couldn't say no to them, not when they were all so stressed about their academic future! I had the means of carrying their babies—my babies? This was all so confusing in the beginning when I was taking on the workload of being a knocked up college student with no help. It wasn't easy.
Though the bigger I got, the more everyone seemed to take pity on me and helped. I never had to carry my books, someone was always carrying my bag, and at least one person helped me waddle from class to class. They were all so doting. I felt beloved, feeling almost saint like with how the other students regarded me. I did help them out of a tough predicament so the least they could do was assist me as my body dramatically changed to carry my brood. Luckily with my newly formed posse I had a chance to hone my abilities so I was properly prepared for my next batch of babies.
I see you reblog hucow prey but also hear you're back onto werewolf preg. Okay... but what if you were a farmer knocked up by werewolves, and now you're looking at your livestock with hunger~
Just a simple farm boy that found an app for hookups for supernatural beings. I never expected for it to go anywhere but my first dm was from a werewolf that needed a quick lay to get out of their rut that was lasting far longer than expected. It was enjoyable—taking a knot had been uncomfortable at first but once we both got into the groove it felt natural.
As natural as it was and how protected we both were it was by divine intervention that I fell pregnant. Not that I was adverse to carrying a litter, it meant that I needed to rely on the help of others with certain tasks. There was also the problem of mating with a werewolf that I wasn't having one baby but multiple pups. Small as they may be in size comparison to a human fetus, there will always be a higher case of carrying many pups. I started showing quickly. We were both elated.
Only downfall was my intense appetite. A lot of cravings for meats—specifically beef, which is problem number one when I run a dairy farm. They're my livelihood yet I find myself watching them with a growling belly that grows ever bigger with my pups. I love these little nuggets with all my being but it's one thing to take one of my prize dairy cows to fulfill my insatiable hunger. Though.....maybe I can convince the pup's other parent to go on a hunt for me!
Imagine having a pair of knockers so huge and heavy with milk, they audibly slosh with each step you take -- and conveniently hide your cute little baby bump~
Oh huge tiddies to small pregnant belly, my beloved! Size differences of bellies to chest is always so good.
Instead of my belly blowing up like a balloon, my chest does. All the hormones seem to think my chest isn't perfect enough (I'm at DDD territory) so my body decided the catchphrase "bigger is better" was going to be made true. I'm so well-endowed I have to get custom bras so I'm not indecent in public! People's eyes are drawn to my chest of their own volition—they can't help but gawk at them. Especially when they could have their own gravitational pull.
As for my bump it's small. I have that pregnant belly look but the baby is a little peanut. I have to look in a mirror to really see how round my body has gotten since I got pregnant. They're healthy as can be so the doctors aren't too worried about why they're on the smaller side. I make the joke all the growth hormones went straight to my tits to make me a milk cow. Everyone laughs when I make that joke.
It's not a lie—I started dribbling milk early on in my pregnancy. It also didn't help that I got curious with a pump and made a schedule for myself. I can't say that I hate it, it feels amazing to witness such a change in my body that pregnancy brings. Sometimes when I can't pump on time it can get uncomfortable but being able to feel how heavy my chest gets and hearing all that milk slosh as my tits sway? It's near orgasmic.
I wonder often how it would feel to have someone drink from the tap. Someone must help me keep milk production up when I'm too lazy to pump or hand express. Would you be up to the task darling?
