It's Comiiiiing!!

The pain eases for now, and my focus shifts to my tits again, squeezing my teats to relieve some of the pressure of the weight of my milk. Small white beads form and then drip from my nipples, making my massive bump wet with milk, as well as the sweat I’ve worked up during my labor. A grunt escapes me as the baby moves, its body squirming within the tight confines of my birth canal in an effort to rotate for its big entrance into the world. A new contraction rips deep through my abdomen. I pull my legs back, moaning as I bear down with all my might, and the shoulders finally burst from my puffed-up cunt, the rest of the body shooting out of me with another wave of liquid.

I bring the baby to my chest, greeting her as she wails. She latches quickly, and I nurse her as I wait for the afterbirth to come, so we can both sleep shortly after. Cramps start again, a little less intense this time, and I sigh with relief, ready for this to be over. I push again, softer this time, knowing the placenta will come easier. But the sensation deepens, pressure running from my lower back around my still-taut abdomen. Another wave, stronger, rolls through, my stomach clenching hard as a rock as I cry out in pain and give in to my body’s demand to push. A huge weight shifts through me, pulling a low groan from me as intense pressure settles again deep in my pelvis. The wave eases for a moment and I take a shaky breath of realization. This is happening— another baby; a twin.

I toil through my second birth, pushing and grunting with contractions. The pain is worse this time, searing hot at the base of my spine and outward. The weight inside me inches down contraction by contraction, filling my birth canal once again as I moan low and long through the burning pain. Finally, my cunt starts to come to a bulge again. I reach under my huge belly, reaching two fingers into my hole as deep as I can to try and feel the second baby’s head, but it’s just out of reach. I roar out with the next surge, moaning and pushing hard with my fingers still hooked in my hole. The baby’s mass hits my fingers, and I cry out, realizing the source of the burning pain, why this birth has been more taxing than the last. The child is breech, I learn, from a tiny foot and bum pressed against the pads of my fingers.

I push like that for another half hour, crying out and grunting through contractions until the first foot and some of the baby’s bottom have opened me up again. The contractions are still coming, but pushing progress has stalled with the sheer size of the baby forcing its way out of me. Between waves of pressure, I manage to carefully pull myself to standing, my stance wide to accommodate the mass stretching my cunt open, hoping that gravity will help. It does. With the next contraction, I bear down hard, bending my knees and sinking into it. The first legs pops free, dangling out of me as I pant with exhaustion. The pain mounts again, my stomach spasming with the contraction. With a guttural scream, I push as hard as I can. The second leg shoots out of me, the rest of the lower body unfolding with it. I sob with the pain, the exhaustion, all of it. How can it not be over yet? My heavy stomach heaves with my cries, the baby’s dangling legs and body shaking in time with my labored breaths. There’s a jolt inside me as the baby moves, half-emerged, and I interrupt my own wails with a little shriek as it bends its knees, bringing its thighs to its belly. Its feet hit my own thigh as its legs kick forward and back to dangling. Then the pain returns, like fire dancing around my hole and throughout the underside of my tensed, solid belly and my low back. I gather my strength and PUSH, push with all my might and a high scream. The arms come forth with another huge rush of liquid. I keep pushing with the momentum, reaching down instinctually to catch this unexpected child as it finally barrels out of me, wailing and purple.

The afterbirths are much easier than the rest of the ordeal, each placenta beckoned forth with small pushes while the babes suckle, one on each teat at the same time.

There's a slight bulge there, the force of the baby's head pushing through my canal causing my labia to swell outwards. I provide counter pressure as I groan through the tail end of the contraction, fighting against the urge to bear down.

"It's coming," I pant, trailing my fingers over my red hot labia. "You're coming, baby. I feel you c-comingggg." Not even 45 seconds had passed since my last contraction, but another pain had taken hold. Starting in my back and spreading around to the front of my belly, pulled low and heavy with the pressure of the pain, the iron band grips and seizes, shoving the baby down with such power that I have to shift my hips further open to make room.

"Oh god, oh god, oh- fuckkkk." I keep my hand firmly in place, all but holding the head back as it barreled through my cunt. The pressure is unlike anything I'd ever felt, tapping into the most primal side of me. Contraction on top of contraction, I tried to groan and not scream, though the urge, much like the urge to push, was becoming unbearable. "Mmmmmphhh, GOD."

I am finally overwhelmed by my instincts and I bear down, and the baby's head surges forward and begins to emerge as a small, wet teardrop pressing against my fingertips. "Nooo," I whine, half delirious with the pain. "No, no. Not yet." I couldn't give birth yet. I couldn't give birth alone.

I drop my head, resting my chin against my heaving chest. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I brace one hand on the edge of the bed and struggle to push myself up, keeping my hand firmly over my bulging hole. My efforts amount to nothing, however, when the action of shifting my hips pushes the baby down further into the birth canal. I cant hold it back any longer. I cry out in shock, and the cry turns into a scream as the head begins to crown.

"OHHHH, IT BURNS. FFFFFUCKKKK, BURNING." I land back down on my knees and give in to the pressure, fisting the hand that isnt supporting the head into the blankets as I push, and push hard. My labia, angry and red and burning, spread to accommodate the skull, and I let out another wild scream as they begin to sting. "Coming outttt. Gotta get it OUTTTT."

A hazy fear of tearing crosses my mind, but its gone with the next contraction. As my womb squeezes down around the baby, I throw my head back and wail, bringing the head to a half crown before it slides back in. "One more. Just... one more. Oh goddddd." I grunt and feel my labia stretch around the head, feeling impossibly tight for a few seconds, and then one hefty shove brings the baby to a full crown.

I struggle to catch my breath, stroking my fingers over its soft hair. "Almost," I whisper, half to my child, and half to myself. I inhale deeply and tighten my hold on the blankets as the next contraction builds, using it to anchor myself. "Almost, almost, alm-ohhhh, here. HEREEEE. ITS COMINGGGGG MMMMMMPFFFFF-FUCKKK!"

My words become an incoherent screech as I scream through the final stretch of the ring of fire, pushing until the baby's head pops free in a torrential gush of fluid. "Come on, baby," I grunt, feeling the presenting shoulder rotate and come free. "Here you are. Oh, here."

It’s okay, take a breath. I’ve got you. The head’s not going anywhere, but now the only way to make it better is to get the baby out. Keep pushing.

My other hand reaches around your massive belly and together they form a ring around the little protruding dome and give you something to push against. It’s burning now, but you can’t stop. Your feet find purchase on the rim of the bath and fingers clutch desperately at your shaking thighs to keep them from snapping shut against the unbearable fiery stretch.

I gave birth last week! It was thanksgiving week and our whole family was invited to Mel’s aunt’s place; 4 hours away from our place, down south. We rented a nearby Airbnb and had fun at thanksgiving, enjoying food and mingling with Mel’s relatives’ family, bumping my belly with fellow pregnant relatives. There was even one of Mel’s relatives that delivered their baby during Thanksgiving. He was… relatively new, several years younger than me. He got turned into a female, like me and many other pregnant relatives there, but unlike me, he still wore masculine coded outfits, had short hair, and insisted on calling him a guy. He never had the gender dysphoria that I had so being forced to turn must’ve really affected him. I had asked him why they stayed, and he responded that he was (and still is) disowned by his parents, because his parents were religious fanatics, so seeing him having sex before marriage AND becoming a girl from a succubus girlfriend felt like straight out of a nightmare. He got kicked out and his partner and her family housed him with open arms. Same incident, wholly different perspective and outcome, which made me look back at my old life and see how the stars had aligned in my favor. The birth itself was quite fascinating. Due to the lack of the birth kink, his attitude was like ‘let’s just get this over with.’ He felt the urge to push, locked in, and pushed in a standing position, his baby came out in like 10-15 minutes. It happened relatively fast, compared to how I usually do it. The next day, as we were packing, I started having contractions and subsequently broke my waters outside in the backyard. I continued laboring while also rounding the kids at the middle and backseat. Mel’s been really supportive, working together to get the kids seated and behaved. Even my eldest’s helping her younger siblings. When everything was done, I finally changed to my tank top and light colored, stretchy, maternity jeans.

I finally climbed the car, feeling the throes of labor, the belly contracting every 4 minutes or so. “You ready to do this?” Mel asked. “Yeah… let’s do it.” I said, putting the phone in front of me and turning on the front camera recording. The time was about 2PM as we travelled back home, over 240 miles, taking about 4 hours to get back home.

30 minutes into the trip back, I felt the urge to push, feeling the baby’s head coming down the canal. “Mel… it’s coming.” I said to her, “Alright. Keep breathing Jess, take it slow..” She said, Mel continued driving while I continued laboring, closing my legs as the urge kept coming and going, the huge head slowly descending the canal. Only 10 minutes in, and I can feel the head at the opening. “Mel… the head’s right there already.” I said, reaching down under the jeans and feeling my pussy, and felt the baby right as I inserted my fingers. I felt the head behind the opening poking out into my underwear and jeans, making a bulge. I kept closing my legs, enduring the urge and the pain of holding the baby in. “Mmmmh… baby wanted out…” I reported to Mel. She reached out and went underneath the jeans and felt my pussy and felt the head. “Ohh… yeah that’s the head alright. Deep breaths now… hold them in.” I said. 

The next 20 minutes were agonizing, yet pleasurable at the same time, feeling the head pressing outward and I hold the head back in, feeling every contraction hit, riding every urge to push and pushing slightly to satiate the urge. An hour in, some of our older kids wanted some snacks and wanted to use the bathroom, so we had to stop by the gas station. “Come on…” I said, getting out of the car with Mel’s help, holding the phone, and waddling along with my kids into the station. I managed to control myself so the attendant didn’t notice that there’s a baby right there ready to come out with a single push. I helped my kids go to the bathroom, then bought some candies. I couldn’t think much due to focusing on composing myself, so I just allowed them to get what they wanted. I waddled back out and Mel helped put the kids back in the car before getting me back into the front seat. “Hooo… I wanna push so bad… I can’t hold them anymore…” I said to Mel as she reversed and went back to the highway. “Alright, you can push now… just… keep the head crowning…” She said to me, I simply nodded and pushed at the next contraction. The head began slowly crowning, bulging my jeans with each push. I took my time pushing and feeling the sensation of the head coming out and receding back in. Even Mel’s enjoying just watching me moan and grunt with each push, putting her hand on the opening just to feel the head. I even felt the head pressing against the car seat, holding the head in and it was glorious to feel, so many elements holding the head back. I was getting uncomfortable, constantly pushing in a sitting position for almost 1.5 hours now, so I asked Mel to stop for a bit… We parked on the side of the road and Mel helped me off the seat and onto the side of the road. Mel grabbed the phone and recorded under me, as I leaned on the car seat and pushed in a standing position. The head continued to crown as I spread my legs and squat down a bit. “Hoooo… that’s it… come on…” I pushed against the jeans that’s trying to keep the head in. Mel’s hands were all over the bulging pants and my belly as I pushed for a good 15-20 minutes right there.

You'd managed to secure a spot in the biggest tournament for your favorite game, and nothing was going to stop you from helping your team walk away with the grand prize. It was just bad luck that the tournament coincided with your due date, but there'd be plenty of time to worry about that after you won, right?

giving birth while gaming, painful birth, public birth (livestream), birth denial

Words: 1,310

you can't. just a little further and you'll be home. it's okay. you can make it.

the egg is so big and so low and you want to squeeze your legs together for fear of it falling out of you and you want to squat low and push with everything you have.

you barely notice you're home until you're crashing through the door, almost falling over yourself as you rush inside, pushing your door closed with your back as you slide into a squat and bear down before you have a chance to think about it.

the egg moves lower, your birth canal stretching around it as it fills every inch of you. you gasp and moan, your pushing stopping for a moment as the sensations overpower you. your lack of pushes let the egg slide ever so slightly back inside, a feeling of fullness that would be quite comfortable if the egg wasn't so damn huge. you grunt as you resume pushing, and it isn't long before you feel the egg starting to push against your hole from the inside, bulging out as you push, your legs shaking with the effort but you just can't bring it to crown.

you realise, then, that you never took your jeans off. you push and push and yet your tight jeans refuse to give the egg enough room to emerge. you moan raggedly as you feel at your crotch, the barely there bulge of the egg before it retreats back inside.

despairingly, you let yourself fall to the ground, groaning as the movement of your body causes the egg to move along with you as you first fall to your knees, before shuffling to sit back as you tug your jeans off. your legs shake as you position yourself, legs spread wide as the door supports you, keeping you upright.

your body aches with the urge to push, and with your jeans out of the way you can fully give in. you push long and hard, feeling your pussy stretch out around the huge egg as it emerges oh so slowly. you pant out the egg until your pussy burns, stretched out around the eggs widest point. the egg holds your legs apart for you as you pant and moan, shaking as you feel more wide open than you ever have before.

with a shaky breath, you steel yourself and push hard, grunting as you feel the egg shifting slowly, burning you from the inside out until the widest of it slips out, with the rest following, a sickeningly loud and wet sound resounding as its forced out of your pussy.

the relief, the ecstasy is overwhelming, and you crumple as you lay on the floor, your gaping pussy twitching around nothing as you stare at the monstrously large egg and wonder how you possibly pushed that out of you without suffering horrific damage.

Besides, the seat was much too narrow for you to part your knees in the slightest, and your seatbelt pinned your aching hips in place. Your overfull womb was forced to rest upon your lap, occupying every available inch of space when it normally would have demanded your legs to part to accommodate. It made it hard to breathe. A contraction overtook you like a wave, your gravid stomach forcing inward, and you took the extra inch of room in the seatbelt to lean back, desperate to relieve even a fraction of the pressure between your legs. The baby’s head was all too eager to take the opportunity to grind down fiercely, causing friction in your most sensitive areas while you squirmed.

You gasped when the contraction released, and fought to catch your breath, but it still felt as if there with a relentless bowling ball trying to escape you, spreading you wider than you could afford to move. There’s a slight bit of turbulence, bouncing you and your stretching lips against the seat, causing you to whimper and squirm against the pressure, wordlessly pleading for anything but this to be happening. The seatbelt light dings above, and I look at you, a finger to my lips while I advise your silence. My hands find your seatbelt and tighten it ever so slightly. We wouldn’t anything happening to you.

I grip the armrests, knuckles turning white, as you tighten my seatbelt over my full and contracting belly. Your hand moves over the swell, caressing it fondly, feeling the rock solid muscles beneath your palm. You’re calm, relaxed, presenting a casual appearance of just an average expectant couple on a journey. There isn’t a hint of worry or apprehension in your eyes. If anything it’s enjoyment.

As the contraction peaks I feel the head of our baby shifting lower, filling the bowl of my pelvis with the immeasurable weight of impending life. My legs spring apart automatically around it, my knee crashing into yours while the other hit the wall of the aeroplane beneath the window.

“Ohhhhh god…. It’s so low babe… I don’t… I don’t know if it’s going to w-wait two more h-hours.” I mumble as I tilt my head on your shoulder, panting profusely.

“The seatbelt signs are on darling, we can’t move you now. It’s not safe.” You crooned in my ear. One hand rested on my belly while the other ran your fingers through my hair in a soft comforting manner.

“I feel… like I’m gonna b-burst…. There’s so much pressure….ughhh…” I grunted, the contraction peaking, and with it came the gush of fluids from my waters breaking. My legs were soaking, amniotic fluid now cascading from the seat onto our hand-luggage on the floor.

“Oh dear.” You tutted, and then you moved my thighs together to hide the obvious sight of my labouring being visible to any steward that may walk by. Taking the airline blanket we were given at the start of our long haul journey you covered my legs and tucked the rough material beneath my thighs - keeping them trapped together.

“Mmmhh…no…I can’t…” I huffed out. I swallowed down the moan in my throat that was threatening to escape, scrunching my eyes and panting heavily.

“Yes you can darling.” Your tone was smooth as silk but there was an unfamiliar glint in your eyes. “You don’t want to have this baby here… not in front of all these people.”

Your lips kissed my cheek, absorbing the tears than silently rolled down my face. The baby was so damn low I could feel my pelvis opening up around the large head that was sinking towards the birth canal. Without my waters the cushioning had been replaced by the harsh immeasurable solid shape of our child, heavy and oh so ready to be born.

The screen in front of me showed the map, the little icon of our plane mid-way over the vast expanse of ocean. My chest heaved with each breath, my eyes zeroed in on that little cartoon aeroplane, willing it to travel across the screen faster.

I lasted through two more contractions before my ability to hold it in completely evaporated. Beneath the blanket my knees parted and my hips slumped in the chair, moving purely on instinct. I gasped lungs full of air, and then I pushed. Desperate and primal I focused all my strength right down between my legs, bearing down with a low rumbling grunting sound.

2k words

**Warning: fetish content** Contains graphic description of birth.

This one includes

Trans dad

Fast, unassisted birth

Fetal ejection reflex

Supportive partner

--

The contraction hits River like a truck. One second he's moaning deep, the next he's leaning over his lap on the toilet, crunching down with the hardest, deepest grunt, his body pushing on its own.

"AAAAAAAOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUWHHHHHH..."

It's so hard. His knees are together, feet pointed outwards. As his body continues to bear down and strain, he leans harder over his lap, his rock-hard belly touching his shaking thighs, his hands reaching back to grip the back of the toilet.

He can barely get a breath in before his body says it's time to push again, and push hard. He grunts even tighter, higher, his feet lifting off the floor as he squints at a spot on the wall.

"AAAAAOOOOOHHHHHH FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKUHH!!!"

He pants, willing the acid in his stomach to stay down. "Oh, she's coming. She's coming, James I can't--" his voice cuts off into a really tight grunt as he feels James's hand on his back. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrr........"

"You're doing it, love, come on."

walking down the aisle with the head already out, makeup clearly running from previous crying, trying to act like they can't hear everyone whispering. struggling to stand still and not bear down on the baby that's stuck in place, hoping nobody can see the head that's definitely bulging under their dress. eventually stumbling to the ground and screaming it out in front of everyone.

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.

Mm the visual of crowding in the stall your pants around your ankles hand braced on the tight walls holding yourself up as you gasp and cry other fist in your mouth to keep the noises down while my hand goes further into you? So so smart. Pull your pants back up for you while you’re still reeling and pat your covered boycunt like it was that simple before I’m out again to the next store.

I’d already have you in something tight- thick denim pants so they have no give even if the head makes it to crown. Bonus if your shirts just as tight so everybody can see your huge belly.

I’d defiantly make you wait until we got home, leaving the last store cooing at you for holding out so long- you’d assume I would let you birth after the long walk to the car but once get in your seat reaching for your waistband I click my tongue.

You were being so good for me don’t mess up now, want you to have our baby in our bed at home? You’ll look so nice on the new sheets I just bought don’t you think? So just keep your hand right there not push ok?

Agony as you feel the head pressing at the seam of your pants the whole ride back and even when we get home we still have to unload the massive pile of things and get them put away- can’t have a messy house when the baby arrives.

My shirt would be sosososo tight! Everyone would see my popped out bellybutton and the large baby impatiently shifting around in my gravid womb. Imagine how many worried stares we'd get!