haunting of horny house

They start bouncing lightly as I walked, another red flag but literally every step made my cock throb deliciously and I nearly jogged to the elevator just to get more of that feeling. In the elevator there's an embarrassing and obvious gurgle coming from my gut and all I can do is blush and mumble something about being hungry, but when I lay a hand over my stomach in the hopes of settling things down I cum hard right then and there, fingers flexing involuntarily and squeezing the grapefruit sized mass stretching through my flesh. Which makes cum again...

I limp my way to my cubicle, stumbling and bumping against random office items, tables, filing cabinets, the water cooler... each impact sends me into an orgasm and causes my rapidly swelling ovaries to surge with even more growth, wrecking my balance and weakening my legs.

I get to my chair and even just sitting causes a pressure that makes me moan obscenely. I know everyone can hear me, not just my voice but my insides. They're making such awful noises that make my cunt soak through my (ripped) slacks. I'm not consciously groping myself but it's really only natural to squeeze out fat globs of chunky ovum until you run out of space in your hyper afflicted womb and it goes spilling from your cervix just to fill your boxers, you know what I mean? I guess I was being too loud moaning and grunting about how good it all felt, how I'm just so disgustingly fertile and that I couldn't stop even if I wanted to...

I should be waddling and lumbering around the house, hand on the walls for support, lugging a gigantic dense balloon of a belly around rn...

I should be huffing and puffing as I haul a huge, heavy, spherical, baby-laden belly around, struggled to carry its weight and so full of babies that I could pop at any moment rn...

Image you are pregnant, overwhelming and obscenely so, belly filled with so many babies you can practically make out the outline with how stretched your skin had become. You are pregnant with dozens of babies and yet your body just wants more, your breasts gush with milk while your thighs fatten and thicken.

At 6 months you should be immobile and straight up hospitalized with just how large your belly has gotten, just a massive baby filled mount that could burst at any moment. Every kick from the babies stretches you more and maybe leaves bruises, and your cervix feels like it's ready to split in half at a moment's notice. And yet you still find it in you to walk around, assisted mostly by the wall and whoever is taking care of you at the moment, testing just how much weight your pelvis can take.

But you still have 3 months to go and your womb is gonna make them count

At 9 months you are a obscene monument to fecundity, utterly filled to bursting with massive babies that thrash your womb to its absolute limit and then so. Your record breaking breasts forbid all attempts at modesty. You haul the brutal weight of your pregnant gut around, moaning and groaning as you can practically feel your birth canal dilating with every step. You swear you could do this forever, and then you are graced with the feeling of warm fluid gushing from between your thicc legs

(or smt like that, I probably should go to sleep)

Now this is what I'm talking about!! Thank you!

So hyperpregnant that my belly can be compared in size to a small weather balloon! Utterly disproportionate to the rest of me. Weighing nearly a 1000 pounds & somehow still managing to get on my feet & shuffle around a little bit (with some help) before being hauled back into bed.

Basically spending most of my days on bedrest, legs spread out around my colossal belly. Idly rubbing it and huffing and puffing through the immense pressure & tension.

I love thisss😍😍😍

You know how theres long distance toys where a partner can be on the other side of the world but still control it? like those lovense vibes? (inspired by @bredpun's egg toy posts)

I wish there was a toy that was that for eggs and/or cum  😩. Logistically yeah I know this would be a nightmare and  the person using the toy would have to load the eggs into the ovipositor and would be limited by the number you owned but just imagine if it was possible 

----

You’re sitting at your desk, working from home, trying to focus on a spreadsheet while your mind is miles away, tethered to your partner’s office across the city. They know you’ve been useless all morning—they know you can’t even think straight when you're empty, that your brain only starts to click into gear once you're properly filled up. The toy is a  familiar weight deep inside you. Suddenly, the first pulse hits, a deep thrum that makes your breath catch as you squirm in your chair.

Thump.

The first egg materializes, a slick, heavy displacement. It’s a sudden, needy pressure that makes you moan, your hips bucking against the seat. You can almost see them leaning back in their office chair, eyes dark as they hover their thumb over the "Generate" button, finally giving you the “fullness” you've been aching for.

Thump. Thump.

Two more forced in, and you’re already squirming from the pressure. You’ve been craving this all morning—this heavy, rounded fullness. You reach down, your hand trembling as you cup your lower belly. It’s already starting to firm up, a slight, hard curve pushing against your palm.

Thump-thump-thump.

Your partner slides the delivery to "Rapid." You gasp, your head falling back as the infinite supply floods you. The toy whirs, a high-pitched purr vibrating against your cervix, summoning eggs faster than you can adjust. You’re stretching. You’re growing. Every new arrival is a blunt, pleasurable intrusion, making your internal walls expand until you’re moaning from the sheer volume.

The fabric of your leggings goes sheer as your stomach distends into a heavy, taut lumpy dome. You watch in a daze as your midsection swells, your navel shallowing out until it’s just a memory. You’re huge, your stomach shelfing over your lap, packed so full that the eggs bump against each other internally—a sensation that sends jolts through your spine.

"More," you whisper, your voice thick. "Please, just fill me up. Make me bigger."

As if they heard you, the toy’s vibration kicks. It’s the "Settle and Pack" protocol, vibrating the massive weight to push the eggs together, clearing just enough room for the next wave. Your stomach jumps and ripples, a visible proof of their remote control. You are in ecstasy 

The spreadsheet is a blurred memory. You are visibly distended, a heavy, hard dome pressing against your shirt, packed so tight you can only take shallow breaths. You’re addicted to this overwhelming fullness.

Suddenly, your phone flashes. It’s a video call. You fumble to answer, fingers clumsy. Your partner’s face fills the screen, a playful smirk on their lips as they look down at where your shirt is straining against the crowded clutch. They know exactly how much better you feel now that you’re properly occupied. On the screen, you see their thumb hover, then slide the toggle from Generate to Infuse.

You gasp as the toy shifts to a high-pitched whir. A new sensation hits—a hot, heavy rush. It’s a thick, pressurized flood of fluid, filling every tiny space between the eggs. It feels like pouring concrete into a jar of marbles. The pressure doubles instantly. Your stomach doesn't just grow; it tightens until it feels like a drum skin, your belly letting out an angry, muffled gurgle from the sheer mass.

On the video call, your partner watches your expression fracture.

“Touch yourself for me,” they command, their voice rough. “Show me how big I made you.”

They always seem to move more when you touch me, I'm caught between groaning, at the pressure as they push against the already taut skin of my bloated belly and sighing, to relax further into your comforting touch.

Everything is tight and sore at this stage, my breasts have ballooned in size as they've filled with milk, as my hips grow wider and wider, desperately trying to grow fast enough to keep with the expansion of my truly massive womb. I'm straining from the scale of it all, so heavy and weighed down by your babies, that I can barely do anything but think about how huge I've become.

I try to shift, to find some position where I don't feel like I'm about to pop, but the movement merely causes them to start squirming again. "I'm so heavy" I cry staring woefully down at the great swell of my bump, wincing at the pressure from their kicks, my skin tight, shiny and covered in stretch marks from how fast and large I've swollen.

I'm growing rounder and rounder day by day helpless to stop to the growth.

No judgement at all?

I love when a belly gets too big to keep expanding outward and starts expanding in every other direction. Organs get pushed back, lungs get compressed, and the sides of your overtaxed belly begin to bowl out until everyone can tell you’re pregnant from any angle, even from the back. I know it’d be uncomfortable but god I kinda relish in that tension. I just kinda love how every misery a late term pregnancy brings is brought on by the belly. The weight in the hips, the shortness of breath, the itchy skin, everything. It’s all because the carrier and their breeder had a night of passion and decided it was worth the gamble. Now the poor carrier is swelling in every direction at a truly alarming rate.

The genie, once again uncertain which lips she means, starts plumping up both pairs of her lips...

Making both pairs grow so that she'd be right no matter what the woman was referring to SEEMED like a good idea. After a few moments, the lady's body started quivering in arousal, moans coming from in between the growing, plush lips on her face, that were bigger than any bimbo's and perfect for sucking on some.. 'delicious treats', and then her legs were shaking with something growing between them, her other pair of lips, these just as sensitive, and growing just as big, covering plenty of space and letting plenty of 'drool' out, creating a large, wet spot in her pants.

One hand went up to her face to squeeze and rub those lips, the other went down to stimulate her clit and the rest of her lower lips. Though then the genie thought...maybe if she had made just one pair bigger first, she would have feedback as to whether or not that was the correct decision... but that was impossible now, the woman was too lost in excitement about BOTH sets of lips that the genie wouldn't have a clue if it was mainly because of one set or the other. Who knows, maybe she even wanted both sets to grow after all, and was purposefully ambiguous? This was all going through the genie's head, but seeing the lady drop to the floor, moaning and rubbing herself maniacally with intense orgasmic waves hitting her body over and over as her lower lips reached closer to her knees with her pussy forcing her legs apart more and more, and as her face was utterly dominated by red, giant lips, made the genie think that it didn't matter after all.

It didn't matter because the woman was even more ecstatic than before she made her wish. Even if she didn't intend to grow one of the pairs, she was still absolutely loving it on both sides, and didn't seem to mind how much they continued to grow...and grow...and GROW...