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Can I fuck you hard till you scream my name loudly ?
No game here, proudly trans girl 🥒
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best papa !!! 🥺🥺🥺
Contracted a nasty cold at work the other week and my virus-fatigued brain saw the spies and their (fan)children fit to be little creatures. Feast your eyes!
clocking in for a twelve hour shift, prepared with my tylenol, energy drinks, and snacks to make it through the day.
but the second i press the button to clock in, i feel my gut twist. i'm stopped in my tracks for a few seconds, but the feeling passes and i walk to my station.
hour one
i feel bloated. my nipples feel like they're chafing against my binder, and my usually-baggy work shirt clings to my sweaty skin. i assume i just neglected to notice a flare-up, and i pop a couple tylenol.
hour two
i'm rocking side to side at my station. a customer asked me how far along i was while i was ringing up their items. my binder feels so incredibly tight, and my shirt has begun riding up. i touched my belly earlier and it felt hard and unyielding. my back is forced to arch to accommodate this new weight, and my hips feel too small all of a sudden.
hour three
every time i look down at myself, my stomach has ballooned out further. i can't see my feet anymore because of the swell. there's so much pressure on my bladder, and while taking a bathroom break, i removed my binder, unable to take the rubbing on my sensitive nipples anymore. the areola are large and dark brown, and the gentlest brush of my fingertips against them made me moan in an unearthly combination of pain and pleasure. standing up from the toilet was a difficult endeavor, and my walk back from the bathroom had become a pronounced waddle.
hour four
standing at my station for any longer feels impossible. i can barely reach the customers' items around the massive growth at my front. a couple of them have asked me when this place will put me on leave. i fake laugh, pretending that this protuberance is the result of overdue triplets, rather than some unknown circumstance. my hips feel far too tight for this incredible weight, and my rocking from side to side is the only thing easing some of the pressure.
hour five
my work shirt is nothing more than a too-small sports bra for my massive tits at this point, having long been outgrown by my belly. i catch myself rubbing it more and more, trying desperately to relieve some of the constant pressure. every time i move, the material of my shirt rubs against my nipples, and it's all i can do to hold back moans. everything feels too much right now. my stomach takes up all of the spare room at my till, and i have to reach more and more to continue doing my job. i don't even know how i'm still standing, and i wonder how i'll manage the waddle to the break room.
hour six
my entire body aches from the strain of my swollen belly. it took me ages to maneuver my heavy body back to the break room, and i feared the cheap plastic chair would break when i lowered myself into it. when i sit, my stomach forces my legs wide apart, and it protrudes out past my knees. i'm so hungry, but my belly feels so full that i can't eat anything. i asked my manager if i could go home and he laughed, seemingly blind to the way my body has grown and morphed in such a short time.
hour seven
my manager yelled at me for how slow i was going from the break room to my station. i stayed silent, not knowing how to explain my situation to someone who seems so blind to it. every step i take is slow and labored, and i am forced to support my towering belly with both hands. every step sends a shockwave through my hips and back, and even standing feels like too much. my body aches. i'm nearly brought to tears from the unending strain on my back.
hour eight
my work shirt has two twin stains on the front, and my tits feel so full that i can't even think. i have to stand a little bit out of my till because of how large the torpedo-shaped belly in front of me is. some customers look at me with concern, while others don't even hide their hungry stares. i can barely rock from side to side anymore with the weight in my tummy. i can feel movement deep inside me, and the pressure as it pushes out against my womb makes me shudder and moan quietly.
hour nine
i fled my station, waddling at a sloth's pace to the "family" restroom, where i lock the door and collapse onto the ground. i pull up my shirt and reach for my tits, intending on milking myself. the first brush of my fingers on my milky nipples makes me cry out in pain, but i fight through it. my inexperienced hands slowly knead my overflowing tits, sending showers of warm milk down my taut belly. when i can't take anymore, i lean back against the wall and rub my full stomach. i know for a fact that i have no chance of standing up, the weight of my overburdened womb keeping me pinned to the ground.
hour ten
now that i'm not doing any work, i can watch my belly continue its constant growth. it touches the ground and spreads my legs more with every passing minute. i can't keep my hands off it, constantly rubbing the tight expanse. moans fall from my lips as the skin continues stretching and growing more sensitive. my arms can't reach around it, and the weight sits heavy in my narrow pelvis, threatening to break me. the movement inside only increases, and i want to sob from the overstimulation.
hour eleven
if i get any bigger, i'm afraid i'll pop. my hips ache horribly from the weight on top of them. it's all i can do to rub the sides of the thrashing dome and moan. i must look comical now, nearly more belly than man. my tits feel like they're the size of my head, and the layer of dark hair on my body does nothing to obfuscate the stretch marks reaching across both breasts and belly. i haven't been able to stop sobbing for the past hour. it's all far too much.
hour twelve
i check my watch at the time i should've been clocking out. but the second i do so, i feel my guts twist. something inside me pops, and the floor beneath me is soaked in clear, scentless liquid. i let out a sob as my body is wracked with cramps.
I wish men would undergo rapid pregnancy.
Just having the potential to meet a guy whose stomach starts swelling right ghen and there in public, giving away all of the dirty deeds he has done not long ago...
Constantly and steadily, his abdomen would rounden out underneath his clothes as he tries to run or hide, at least until he's growth leaves him with no other movement but a gut gloryfiing waddle.
It wouldn't take much longer for him to get from that, to having his body contract as the passanger within his womb decides it is the time to come out.
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God I want him pregnant so bad. I want him struggling to sit on my lap, pinning me down on my bed and rolling his heavy, full hips against my crotch until he’s comfortable, so big and cute and ready to pop on top of me. I ache hoping for his water to break. He’s got twins this time, and with the pair overdue by nearly a week he’s swollen with so much belly water to cushion them that there isn’t a centimeter to spare in his womb.. It strains his back, weighing his gravid belly low past his waistline, pushing pressure onto his plush pink pussy lips under his throbbing cock, rubbing against the underside of his belly. Even slow, methodical movements jostle the large pups in his taut belly, and as they kick and press and push the walls of his tight, overstretched womb he can’t hold back a whimper. His heavy lidded eyes screw shut and his jaw clenches from the pressure. Both hands fly to his quaking belly, breathing low past his lips, caressing his aching skin and grinding his hips against mine. I can feel his enormous weight shifting in all directions against my small body, helpless to do anything but watch him fade into a state of pregnant bliss, his eyes glazing over, biting his lip with little moans that I don’t think he knows are leaking out of him. I watch his hands as they slide across his belly, so full, so active. A small bump pushes outward around his bellybutton, ripe and popped so prettily- I want so desperately for him to just inch a bit closer, no matter the risk of his bloated belly and fat swollen hips crushing my ribs, I need the swirled grooves of that bellybutton on my tongue, need to pop my lips closed around it and gently tug the hard little nub with my teeth. He follows my gaze, shifting slowly backwards with his hands on his hips to grant me my gift with a dark, satisfied grin on his face. He rocks side to side, bobbing that juicy belly inches from my nose. “ You wanted me like this so bad,” He moans, stretching his arm around the wide curve dancing in my face. “Every god damn day you wanted it. Dreamt of it. Jerked yourself to sleep every fucking night to the thought of me so heavy with your brood I couldn’t walk.” He thrusts his hips forward, crashing that perfect heavenly belly against my cheek, bumping my nose so hard it left a sting. He leans back, belly retreating so I could gaze at the life squirming in his womb. “And you got it. You happy now?” One kick high on the shelf of his belly leaves him breathless as one of the babies presses into his ribs, tight against his lungs. He gasps, then pants through a moan. “So full…hnng god, you fucked me good this time…fucked me…full… oh…” his words slur into a deep groan and the source of his discomfort is obvious to me, given the show is shoved straight in my face. The skin of his belly tightens as the mound heaves, nearly lifting off his lap as the babies suddenly kick into high gear, restlessly pressing joints and hands and feet from the inner walls of his belly. “Hoo, oh… ohhh…” he pants through the pain gripping his middle, visibly squeezing the babies lower into his already full hips. “So pregnant… you just had to get me so pregnant…fuck… hoo…” He shifts on top of me with little grunts, hands cupping the underside of his squirming belly as he tries desperately to lift the active brood for even the tiniest comfort. “Your babies… so full- I’m so full of your babies… hope you’re hap- OUH!” His hips buck, and it’s like dessert before a full meal, a cherry on top as his cherry bursts, an audible “pop!” from deep in his puffy birth canal as his sweet, wet, hot water breaks. The weight of the babies shifts so low in his hips I can feel them slam against my lap and he’s locked in place, too heavy to move, an orgasmic sob crying out when the belly water gushes all over my chest, soaking my shirt with slick so it clings to my chest. When I look back up at him, sitting upright with his belly heaving in his hands, I see a dark head already bulging forward between his pussy lips.
Celebrated building up my computer at my new place by drawing pregnant Jayce
Celebrating I got internet installed, broke and got it fixed by posting the sad pregnant Jayce.
🫃/🍼/1️⃣/🛒/🖐️-🛑-🏳️- (optional:🔌)/🧍-🧎/🐢-⌛/🧠-💦 (saw you wanted one of these sent, feel free to customize and change around emojis as you desire! I'm mainly envisioning a trans man in this scenario, but again feel free to adjust to what you'd like!)
Oh anon your mind… I did change a few things as I was struggling with some of the stuff you suggested + I really don't vibe with public births. They're okay but they just don't do it for me!! Thank you so much for the suggestion though!
ALSO!! I apologize if this isn't the best, I haven't written long form in so long that I'm very rusty!! I got really carried away with this one I'm ngl, but I had a lot of fun!! I'd love to write more, please send me more ideas!! I'll even take ideas outside of that post!
Grace and Damien are t4t btw if anyone is confused. Hehe <3 NOW ENJOY!!
Word count: 2k words //
