Imagine You’re the Pregnant CFO of a Successful Company

Hello! You can call me Ros B. First time posting a story here! Feel free to follow me over at @rosbar6678 if you’d like. Hope you enjoy my fic!

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You shift in your chair, fighting the urge to let out a sigh. You’re 41 weeks pregnant, almost 42, and extremely uncomfortable. Your back has been hurting all day, your massive stomach feels rigid and tight, and there’s a strange growing pressure in your hips that makes it really difficult to sit comfortably at all.

You’re in a board meeting at your company, and your husband, the CEO, is currently presenting on the last quarter’s product line. What had started as an illicit affair between two executives just over a year ago had unexpectedly resulted in you pregnant and married. You still couldn’t totally believe it. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun between you two, something to help blow off steam at the end of a hard day at work (almost quite literally – there was a non-zero chance that your baby was conceived in this very meeting room), but you somehow managed to fall for each other.

You almost roll your eyes at how sappy and cliche it was, thinking about it now. Both you and your husband are very practical and logical people, it’s part of the reason why you both have had such successful careers, but being with him threw all that practically and logic out the window. While he was stern and stoic at work, he was actually a very sweet and thoughtful man outside of it. And when you discovered you were pregnant, you two didn’t even hesitate to go straight to the courthouse to make everything official. You both knew this was jeopardizing your jobs, but neither of you cared. And while you got sternly reprimanded by the board, they ultimately decided to keep you both on. The company had become hugelysuccessful since you both started working there, after all.

And now, your husband was presenting on exactly how successful the company had become, particularly in this last quarter, and you were to be presenting next.

You adjust yourself in the chair again, trying to ease any of the discomfort in your body, but it’s pretty futile. Your husband’s eyes dart over to you for a moment, narrowing imperceptibly as he spoke. He has been trying to get you to go on maternity leave for weeks now, but you’ve refused. Even this morning, as the two of you got ready for work, he tried to convince you to stay home.

“It’s not going to happen, love,” you said loudly as you hefted your now much larger breasts into a bra, pulling the straps on to your shoulders and hooking it around your back.

You heard your husband grumble from the walk-in closet.

“You’re overdue by almost two weeks,” he called out into the bedroom. “The baby can come basically any second. And I swear your stomach has dropped since yesterday. You really should stay home.”

You’ve managed to don a pair of sheer black pantyhose, pulling them up your legs and over your belly, before shimmying into a dark gray pencil skirt.

You certainly couldn’t deny anything your husband has said. All of what he said was true, and then some. For the past few days, it’s felt like more and more weight had descended into the bowl of your pelvis, and your belly definitely hung lower and lower. Despite it’s size, it had always been a fairly “perky” stomach, but that had changed significantly in the last few days. Plus, you had been dealing with your fair share of Braxton Hicks contractions lately, too.

But you wouldn’t be caught dead telling him that.

“I tell you what, my dear husband,” you replied, as you zipped up the back of the skirt, drawing it tight under your belly and around your hips. You turn to look in the mirror, admiring how it hugged your curves. 9 months pregnant and you still got it.

“I will go on maternity leave when you go on paternity leave.

More grumbling from the closet.

"I’m sorry, my love, what was that?”

“Isaid,” he shouted, clearly annoyed, “that I don’t want to go on it yet.”

“Well, neither do I.”

He stepped out of the closet, wearing a sharp navy blue suit and a gray tie with gold diagonal stripes.

“Oh, darling, now, really?” he demanded.

“What?”

“That skirt? Those stockings?”

You rounded on him as you finished buttoning up your white collar maternity shirt. “What’s wrong with my skirt and stockings?”

“Can’t you wear sweatpants like a normal pregnant woman?”

You felt anger flare in your chest. “I don’t wantto wear sweatpants,” you snapped. “Why are you suddenly so hung up on my clothes?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I just…want you to be comfortable,” he muttered, dropping his hand and looking away from you.

You softened a little at his admission, and approached him.

“You’re always so uncomfortable and I just wish…there was something we could do to help with that…”

Once you were close enough, you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him as close to you as your baby bump would allow.

He still wasn’t looking at you. You could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders.

“You know I could never be comfortable in sweatpants, love, especiallyat work,” you said as you reached up to adjust his tie.

He sighed again, closing his eyes and tilting his head down to rest against the top of yours. “I know, darling,” he said, resigned, his hands coming up to cradle your stomach. Your baby gave a solid kick against his palm.

“Look,” you began, smoothing his tie back against his shirt, “I promise I’ll go on maternity leave tomorrow.”

He pulled away a little in surprise, and you looked up at him, smiling.

“Really?” he asked, relief on his face.

“Yes.” You leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I just really want to present at the board meeting today. I worked so hard to leave the company in a good place before we left! Let me just have this victory lap.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed you again, running his hands from your stomach to your hips and back again. “And you deserve a victory lap.”

“You’re goddamn right I do,” you said, grinning, pulling away from him. “I mean, who successfully negotiated the merger with Equiva?”

“You did.”

“And who saved the company almost 20 million dollars in the last three months?” you asked, pulling on a suit jacket to match your skirt.

“Youdid.”

This conversation continued in much the same way as the two of you gathered your things to leave for work…at least until, much to your husband’s chagrin, you put on your 3 inch stiletto heels.

That was several hours ago, but it felt even longer than that. Your husband has been watching you like a hawk all day and even in the middle of his presentation, his attention wasn’t totally diverted from you. You try to keep your face neutral, idly tapping your pen against your cheek.

He finally looks away from you, and you let out a small exhale of relief. You would not put it past him to stop this entire meeting in a heartbeat if he thought something was wrong.

The minutes tick past. You try to not squirm and shift around so much, but you can’t help it. You’re souncomfortable. The pain in your back is getting worse, and so is that incredible pressure in your hips. Your stomach has been cramping and tightening over and over again, intensifying that pressure. You attempt to spread your legs to ease some of the discomfort in your pelvis, but that pencil skirt you insisted on wearing doesn’t allow for much of that. Are these more Braxton Hicks contractions? Or are these…real–?

You quickly push that question out of your mind, huffing.

You try to pay attention to the meeting, but you can’t help it, your focus is turning more and more inward, the more and more your body tenses and twists against your will. Even your baby seems to be against you, kicking up a storm against your ribs. You try to keep your breathing steady and even, and you cup your hands underneath your belly and press up, weakly attempting to lift some of the weight off your straining back and hips.

Maybe your husband was right…maybe you should have stayed home…

You don’t know how much time has passed when you suddenly hear your husband say your name, startling you out of your thoughts.

“…our amazing CFO, who will now report on last quarter’s record earnings.”

Everyone applauds as you stand up and your husband heads over to his seat opposite yours, never taking his eyes off you. You just barely manage to suppress a groan as you haul yourself up on unsteady feet, a hand still cupping your heavy stomach.

You force a smile as you approach the front of the meeting room. It almost feels like your baby’s head is already wedged in between your legs, and you vainly try to not walk so bowlegged. You stand behind the podium, looking out at the two dozen other executives and board members, and begin your presentation.

You’re incredibly thankful that you practiced it so much that you could basically present it in your sleep. Standing has made your back pain even worse, and it feels like gravity is slowly pulling your baby deeper into your hips. You keep trying to spread your legs, but again, that damn pencil skirt keeps your thighs much closer together than you’d like.

You can feel sweat break out along your hairline, and you keep compulsively running your hands through your hair to try and subtly wipe it off. Your stomach feels like it’s permanently seized up, gone completely rock hard, and it seems to hang lower than even this morning. 

You can see your husband out of the corner of your eye. He’s leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, his lips a hard line. You know that face. That’s the face he makes when he’s trying to figure out if something is wrong.

You swallow hard. You get a little flustered and you stumble over your words a bit, but you keep going. You are going to finish this presentation, dammit. 

You shift your legs again, trying to find some measure of relief. God, the pressure is getting so bad, it’s making the whole lower half of your body shake, and now you’re cursing your stiletto heels along with your skirt. You have one hand holding the remote to flip through the slides, but the other is gripping the edge of the podium so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you crushed the cheap wood in your grasp.

A terrible spasm shoots through you, making your voice catch for just a moment. It sends pain radiating up your back, down your thighs, and makes your vaginal muscles clench involuntarily. You almost groan at the sensation, as it felt like they were clenching down on…something…

You’re now flipping quickly through the last of your slides, just going over the very basic points for each one, and another sharp pain rockets through you. Your voice wavers as you resist the urge to moan. It takes all of your willpower to not just tear off your skirt right there and drop down into a squat behind the podium, to push your knees as far apart as they can go, to try to make some space within your pelvis to ease some of this maddening pressure. 

Fuck, this is all getting to be so much that you almost feel like you need to push…

You can’t help but notice that your husband is shifting around in his seat almost as much as you were. He knows this presentation almost as well as you, and he knows you’re rushing through the end of it. He looks like he’s about to jump out of his chair right when you shoot him a pleading look. Please. I’m almost done. Just give me a few more minutes. Please.

Your legs are pressing so hard against the sides of your skirt, you’re surprised the seams haven’t ripped. You’re so hot that you’re simultaneously both frustrated that you left your suit jacket on and grateful you did, otherwise everyone would be able to see you sweating straight through your white blouse. Your stomach has never felt heavier, and it’s hanging so low that the underside of it is peeking out from under said blouse, and you are confident it was definitely not doing that when you got dressed this morning…

“In conclusion,” you say, your voice straining slightly. 

The pressure inside you is climbing, climbing…your muscles are spasming and it feels like your baby’s head is so deep inside you it’s already trying to force your legs apart. You clear your throat, and take a breath.

“In conclusion, I –”

The pressure reaches it’s apex. You almost cry out from the pain. But instead, you feel something break inside you, and to your horror, fluid gushes out from between your legs to splatter audibly on the floor.

There’s a moment of shocked silence. You’re visibly shaking as you look down at the puddle beneath you.

“I – I think my water just broke,” you say softly.

There’s a moment of commotion from your colleagues, but then your husband is on his feet.

“Out!” he shouts. “Everyone, out!”

The small crowd of people quickly head towards the door as your husband rushes straight at you, looking furious.

“You’re in labor, aren’t you?” he demands. “God dammit, I told you that you should’ve stayed home!”

As soon as he’s close enough, you reach for him, barely paying attention to what he’s saying. You pull him close and press your head to his chest, gasping and moaning. The pressure is now the worst it’s ever been, becoming completely unbearable, and without hesitating, you grit your teeth, grab fistfuls of your husband’s jacket, and push.

That heavy weighty feeling deep inside you slides even lower, and you let out a guttural groan, almost of relief, as you finally give in to your body’s demands. You can barely hear your husband speaking to you over the blood rushing through your ears and the desperate noises you’re making (he’s saying something about getting to the hospital), but then realization seems to strike him and he demands, “Are you pushing?”

You can only nod in response as you stop for a moment to catch your breath, before wincing and taking in sharp inhales of air between clenched teeth as your stomach somehow tightens even more.

“Don’t! Don’t push!” he yells, panicking. 

“I can’t!” you grit out. There is so much pain and pressure and weight inside of you, wedged tightly inside your pelvis, and you need to get it out now!

“I can’t, hnngh, god, I can’t, oh god, oh, oh!”

You gasp, feeling something new… You let go of your husband’s jacket to reach under your skirt, and you cry out in shock as your fingers brush against your completely soaked stockings. Your labia is bulgingout from you – the baby’s head is right there!

“Help –!” you cry breathlessly, releasing your husband to reach behind yourself, fumbling with the zipper of your skirt. “Help me get this off!”

Your husband starts to object, but another contraction grips you, making you wail, cutting him off.

“There’s no time!” You grab his hand and force it underneath your skirt, between your barely parted legs. Your husband curses in surprise, his fingers pressing against your opening as it distends outwards from your child’s encroaching head. “The baby is coming now!”

He quickly reaches around to try to unzip the skirt. You fall back against the podium, still desperately trying to separate your legs to make room for your baby. He’s yanking on the zipper, but it doesn’t move.

“Fuck, it’s jammed,” he mutters, but before you can say anything, he slides his hands quickly up your thighs, rucking the skirt up your hips and underneath your enormous belly, allowing you to finallyspread your legs. That action alone makes it feel like your baby drops several inches, almost like it was about to fall right out of you, but was caught at the last minute by your seizing vaginal muscles, the sensation making you yelp in surprise.

You’re leaning back against the podium now, gripping the edge of it, in as wide a stance as you can manage in your heels, bending your knees slightly. You’re panting and whimpering, and all your muscles start to tighten and clench again in another contraction. You throw your head back with a groan, feeling your body heave against the hefty mass of your baby as it slid forward a bit more, and you quickly join in with a desperate push of your own.

You groan even louder as you feel yourself start to spread wide, your parting lips brushing against the fabric of your underwear as your baby’s head starts to crown.

“Oh god, it’s coming, it’s coming!”

You suddenly realize that you still have your panties and stockings on, but your husband is way ahead of you, already trying to tug your leggings down.

“Shit shit shit,” he mutters. The stockings aren’t budging – you hiked them up over your stomach when you were getting dressed earlier this morning, but your pencil skirt is cinched tightly around your hips, preventing them from easily sliding off your legs.

“Oh, get them off, please!” you beg, voice straining from your efforts. They’re so tight against you that they almost feel like they’re pressing the baby back in at the same time you’re trying to push it out.

Your husband lets out a noise of frustration, before dropping to his knees and bunching the stocking in the inside of your left thigh in both hands.

You stop pushing for just a moment, just to take a breath, but your pantyhose immediately drives the baby back into you, and you wail in anguish.

“Get them off, get them off!”

Your husband seems to be trying to rip them open, his nails digging into the fabric, but they’re sliding in his grasp from their sheerness and from being doused in fluids.

Another contraction takes you, hard and fast, and you can barely gasp in a bit of air before you’re pushing again, struggling to force the top of your baby to stretch out your skintight nylons.

“Please get them off!”

“I told you you shouldn’t have worn these!” he shouts, before finally ripping them apart, tearing a hole up towards the crotch. You jump when you feel him hook his fingers into your panties and tugs them to the side, the cloth once again brushing against your most sensitive parts.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. All the anger in his voice disappears instantly, replaced with shock. He stammers out your name, looking up at you. “I – I can see the head!”

You try to respond, but all you can do is nod. You can definitely feelthe head, hard and unforgiving, causing a terrible pressurized burn between your trembling thighs as you try to maintain the push, shrieking and crying out in agony.

The contraction mercifully ends, but you whimper in despair when you feel the baby slide a little back inside you, even without the stockings. You pant, your eyes sliding shut, trying to catch your breath in preparation for your next push. 

God, everything hurts. Your stomach hurts from the intensity of your contractions, your back hurts from the straining weight of your belly, your hips hurts from your baby filling the space between them with it’s seemingly massive body, your legs hurt from having to keep them so far apart, your feet hurt from those stupid high heels, even your throat is starting to hurt from all the noises you’re making.

You suddenly feel your husband’s hand gently rubbing the outside of your leg, startling you. You look down, and he’s gazing back up at you, eyes wide, his other hand still between your legs. Your normally calm, stoic husband looks uncharacteristically scared and excited at the same time.

“The baby’s almost here,” he says. “It’s almost here. You’re doing so great, darling.”

You can’t help but give him a shaky smile, but that quickly turns to a grimace as your uterus tightens painfully inside of you. You gasp as you feel the baby slip out of you a little more, even without you pushing, and you take a deep breath and bear down.

You almost immediately throw your head back, biting back a cry of pain. You’re being spread and stretched and pulled apart, and god, god, it burns so much. You want to stop, you want all of this to stop, but your body bears down anyway, indifferent to your suffering, forcing your huge baby through an opening far too small for it.

“Push! Push, darling!” your husband shouts.

“I can’t! Oh, god, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can! Push!”

You grit your teeth and do as he says, because what other choice do you have? Shutting your eyes tightly, you push with everything you’ve got, the burning sensation magnifying with every centimeter of ground your baby makes.

“Nnngh! Gah! F-fuck, oh god, it hurts!”

“Keep going, love!”

You take a deep breath and heave against your baby as hard as you can, when the burning spikes suddenly and horribly, and an anguished scream is torn from your throat.

“The baby’s crowning!” your husband yells.

You barely register what he’s saying as another sharp spasm immediately shoots through you, triggering you into another involuntary push. You almost instantly regret it, as your baby lurches down and a sudden lancing pain, the worst pain you’ve felt so far, jolts up from between your legs, feeling as if you were being cut open with fire.

“The head’s halfway out!”

You scream in sheer agony, arching your back, tossing your head, and standing up on your tiptoes in your heels. The contraction fades, but to your horror, the searing, stinging pain from your baby’s skull remains, splitting you so impossibly wide that you’re sure that at any moment, your sensitive flesh was going to tear right open. You can vaguely hear your husband yelling at you to breathe, but you can only let out another ear piercing scream and push, desperate to get the head out and end the agony.

Your inner muscles clench and spasm around your child’s enormous head, trying to find purchase, as you struggle to expel it from your tortured body without the aid of a contraction. You’re howling mindlessly from the pain, almost bucking your hips as if to shake the baby free, and for one terrifying moment you think it might be stuck. But then there’s a sudden popping sensation, like a cork from a bottle of champagne, making you gasp. Fluid sprays your inner thighs, and a sudden merciful release of tension and pain floods your system.

You slump back a little against the podium, releasing the edges to catch yourself on your elbows. Your legs are shaking wildly now, and it’s a small miracle you’re still standing up.

“The head’s out! It’s out!”

You try to lean forward to see, panting and gasping, but your stomach is in the way. Your husband has both hands between your legs and you can feel the backs of them brushing against your skin. Something heavy dangles uncomfortably from your body. You’re trembling from exhaustion and effort, you’re drenched in sweat, and your vaginal walls throb painfully against your baby.

“Check –” you manage to stammer out, remembering something from one of the many books you read in preparation for the birth. “Ch-check for the c-cord.”

Your husband grunts in acknowledgement, and you inhale sharply as he slides his fingers between your battered, sensitive lips and the baby’s head. You adjust your stance a little and feel your thigh brush against it, sticky and hot.

“Shit –” he mutters.

You gasp, feeling a contraction start.

“Shit, god dammit –” He says your name sharply, immediately grabbing your attention. 

“What?

"Don’t push.”

Panic grips you, almost as hard as the contraction.

“D-don’t?”

“I think the cord is around the baby’s neck, don’t push!”

You feel your husband’s fingers fumble around, and the pressure inside you starts to grow.

“Ah!” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth, but your husband stops you with one firm grip on your upper thigh.

“Hold still.”

You freeze, your inner walls pulsating and tightening around your baby’s heavy, squirming body as it rotates within you. The sensation is overwhelming, and you tilt your head back, mouth hanging open as you pant desperately.

“Hurry,” you manage to gasp out between breaths.

You’re fighting, fighting against that growing wave of unbearable pressure, with everything you have, but it’s not enough. Your muscles seize up, almost violently, and push against your will, and with the aid of gravity, you feel your labia start to spread apart again.

“Don’t push!" 

"I’m not, I’m not!” you cry breathlessly. “I swear I’m not – I – oh! Oh, god!”

Your body crushes down on the baby again, inching it out of you.

“Oh no, god, please –”

“Hold on –”

“Please, I need to –”

“Ok –”

“I need to push!”

“OK, push!”

And with a great guttural yell, you bear down once again, thrusting your hips forward. Mercifully, your baby starts to slide out of you, one shoulder popping out –

“Oh!" 

– and then the other –

"OOH!”

You shudder, your baby hanging halfway out of you, your body still gripping onto it stubbornly.

"You’re so close, darling, just one more –”

You push your knees apart, drop your hips into a slight squat, and give one final desperate push. There’s an incredible rushing sensation, startling you and making you shriek, followed by a torrent of liquids gushing out from between your legs, and suddenly, all of that pain and pressure is gone.

You’re still somehow standing upright, gripping the podium behind you for dear life. Your head is still tossed back, looking up at the ceiling, mouth hanging half open as you catch your breath. Your vaginal muscles are still weakly clamping and twitching around nothing, sending small shudders through your aching body.

Suddenly, you hear a cry.

Your head snaps down to look, and you see over your still enormous belly, your husband, kneeling on the floor in a puddle of milky pink fluids, the whole front of him completely soaked. 

But there, in his arms, is a baby.

It’s bright pink and wailing, kicking it’s little legs and flailing it’s little arms. Your husband looks up at you, looking completely shocked, and says, in a shaking voice,

“It’s a girl.”

You blink, the words slowly filtering into your mind.

“A – a girl?” you stammer, breathless.

He nods, holding the baby – your daughter– up to you, and as if on instinct, you quickly unbutton your blouse. Once it falls open, you gather your baby in your arms and cradle her against your skin, as she continues to cry in protest.

Your husband falls back onto his butt, resting his arms on his raised knees, his head hanging down. His shoulders are shaking, and you don’t know if he’s laughing or crying. As you watch him, dazed, you vainly attempt to comprehend the magnitude of what just happened. You just gave birthduring a meeting at your job, and your husbanddelivered the baby. You’re standing in 3 inch pumps, your stockings are torn open, your skirt is bunched up around your hips, and your breasts are completely out on display (although still in their bra). Your baby is wriggling against you, wailing loudly, still covered in blood and amniotic fluid and who knows what else, the umbilical cord dangling between you. You’re completely out of breath, your head is spinning from exertion and shock, and you suddenly say out loud to your husband, without even really realizing it,

“I ruined your suit.”

Your husband snaps his head up to look at you, looking absolutely incredulous.

“What?”

“I – I ruined your suit –” you say again.

He bursts out laughing.

“I really liked that suit –” you add, weakly.

He scrambles to his feet, still laughing, and as if in emphasis, wipes his hands on the back of his sleek wool pants, before bringing them to rest on your hips as he leans down to kiss you.

“I love you so much,” he says.

You start to respond, when suddenly the doors to the meeting room burst open and a group of EMTs rush in. Someone must’ve called 911. They all descend upon you and the baby, helping you onto a stretcher, examining the baby, and interrogating you with a myriad of questions (including one EMT, a woman, demanding in shock, “You gave birthinthoseshoes?!”)

You lose your husband in the chaos for a moment as you lay down on the stretcher with your daughter still resting on your chest. Panic grips you, and you call out his name. He’s suddenly there by your side, your hand in his, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the room.

“Don’t leave me,” you say, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.

He kisses the back of your hand fiercely. “Never.”

“Hey, hey, Mr. Midwife!” one of the male EMTs says jovially, holding out a pair of scissors to your husband. “You did so well delivering the baby, we thought you might like to cut the cord!”

Your husband smiles brilliantly as he takes the scissors with his free hand. The EMT directs him to cut the cord between two clamps, just an inch or so from her belly button, and with a few quick snips, your daughter’s body is separated from your own.

They drape a blanket over you and your baby and wheel you out of the meeting room, past all your shocked colleagues and coworkers, into the elevator and then outside to the ambulance, your husband staying by your side the whole time. Your baby is still mewling and crying, and that same female EMT from earlier suggests that maybe she’s hungry.

Once in the ambulance, you shrug off your shirt and undo your bra, freeing your breasts, and you bring your daughter up to one dark nipple. She instantly latches on and begins nursing, and you gasp in surprise and joy.

You look up at your husband excitedly, who laughs and kisses the side of your head. Now that the shock has started to wear off, an overwhelming sense of love and protection for your daughter has replaced it. You can barely take your eyes off her, you count her fingers and toes over and over again as she nurses. You smooth her little wisps of hair back, the same color as her father’s, as she blinks up at you with eyes that match yours. Your husband traces the curves of her little cheek with his finger, before pushing that same finger against one of her palms, and her tiny hand closes around it.

He kisses you again, his hand stroking through your hair, as he says softly to you, “You were amazing, darling. You were so amazing. I love you so, so much.”

You turn to kiss him on the lips. “I love you, too.” You tilt your head forward to press against his, closing your eyes. “You were pretty amazing yourself. I can’t believe you delivered our baby.”

“Hey, I just caught her. You were the one who did all the work.”

At the hospital, your daughter is quickly whisked away for tests as you deliver the placenta. The lovely staff were kind enough to lend your husband a set of clean, dry, hospital green scrubs. When your daughter is returned to you, she’s all swaddled up, and given a clean bill of health, coming in at 9lbs, 13oz.

“Nine pounds?!” you exclaim as your husband takes her from the nurse.

“And 13 ounces!” the nurse adds, cheerfully. “22 inches long and a head 15 inches around.”

“Oh my god,” you say quietly, completely stunned. “No wonder that hurt so much…”

“You can say that again! Can’t believe you delivered her with no pain medication!”

Your husband sits down in the rocking chair next to your bed, cradling your daughter close as he starts speaking to her, not paying attention to your exchange with the nurse.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Hey, you gave us quite a scare today, showing up when you did.”

The nurse checks a few things before leaving you with your new family, insisting you get some sleep.

You lean back against the pillows as you close your eyes, your hands resting on your slightly deflated stomach, listening to your husband speak softly to your daughter. You’re exhausted. There are muscles in your body that you didn’t even know exist that are already starting to ache. You want to stay awake, to watch your husband interact with his first born child, but you can already feel yourself drifting off. Bits and pieces of their “conversation” filter in as you start to doze, but it’s his comment of, “…now that you’re here, Mommy is finally gonna take some time off and relax…” that grabs your attention.

You rouse yourself from sleep as best you can. “Not yet,” you say, your words slurring together.

“Hmm? What was that, darling?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you drift in and out of consciousness.

“’m not taking maternity leave yet.”

You hear your husband laugh.

“…didn’ finish…my quarterly reportsssss…”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“…need to finish ‘em tomorrow…”

He laughs again, but he sounds much more uncertain this time.

“You're…you’re kidding,” he says. When you don’t respond, he repeats more insistently, “Darling, you’re kidding, right?”

But you don’t reply, finally falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

What The Boss Offered Part 2

Mr. Boone walked into his office at 9am sharp and grinned at the sight before him. Beside his desk stood Sabine, holding a steaming cup of coffee, and sporting two wet spots on the front of her uniform. Well, Boone insisted it was a uniform, but it wasn’t exactly within company policy. It was a white bikini bathing suit that was nowhere near large enough to cover Sabine’s enormous breasts. She was still pregnant; he had made sure of that—now nearly fifteen months along and looking rounder and juicier than ever. He strode over to her, pulled her bikini top to one side, and squeezed to express the first milky stream of the day. She gave a small, stifled sound as a surprisingly strong jet of milk spurted out, splattering Boone’s suit jacket. She looked horrified and began to apologize, but he waved a dismissive hand, chuckling.

“No need to worry, honey, you’re just more full than usual today. How about we go take care of that?”

She nodded hesitantly, unsure of what he meant. Almost all her time was now spent in Boone’s office, getting milked and fucked and occasionally also doing the job she was hired for. She hadn’t seen most of her coworkers in a while. Boone walked past her, behind his desk, and opened a drawer, pulling out a rhinestone collar and a lead. He lifted them up to show her.

“I’m going to walk you around the office so you can help everyone out with their morning coffee, and then we can really get down to business. If you’re quiet and you don’t spill, then maybe I’ll give you a treat later.” She nodded again. Mr. Boone’s “treats” were usually orgasm-based, but she was hoping that maybe this time, he would allow her to finally give birth. She was exhausted from lugging her gargantuan, overdue belly around all the time.

He fastened the collar around her neck and walked her out, keeping ahead by a few steps and tugging on the lead. She felt so overwhelmed by the intense fullness in her breasts and belly that she hardly noticed any embarrassment about her colleagues seeing her in her skimpy “uniform.” Mr. Boone walked her around the office, starting with the executives. He greeted each person and asked if they’d like any milk. For those that did, he instructed Sabine to express it by squeezing her nipple directly into the person’s cup. The company’s CFO asked if he could have some from the source, and Mr. Boone agreed. The CFO stood up and attacked her breast with his mouth, sucking and lapping at her with his tongue so forcefully that she began to gasp and moan. Boone tugged sharply on her lead, and she fell silent again. He continued to pull her around, addressing each worker at their desk and letting Sabine empty her breasts for anyone who wanted milk. Finally, they returned to Boone’s office, and he removed the lead but not the collar.

“It looks nice on you,” he said, and handed her a glass of cold water, which she accepted gratefully. “You were pretty good out there, so you can have your treat.” He saw her eyes widen. “Not right now, you have work to do. Later.”

The work she had to do, it turned out, was to kneel underneath his desk and suck his cock while he checked his email. Being so cramped when she was so round was hell on her back, but the promise of a treat later that day kept her mind off the discomfort for the most part.

She went about her normal duties for the rest of the day—making copies, letting Mr. Boone fuck her cleavage, answering the phone, and massaging Mr. Boone’s shoulders while he ate lunch. At 5pm, he got up from his desk and picked up the lead again.

“Are you ready for your treat, pet?”

She felt so excited. Finally, after months of serving him, she felt sure that he would finally let her give birth. She had always thought that it would be in his en suite bathroom, but it made sense when he led her to the packed conference room and helped her up onto the table. Almost everyone was there, and they looked ravenous. Boone unclipped the lead and whispered in her ear, “be a good girl,” then took a step back and addressed the room at large. “Sabine’s about ready to pop, so have at her!”

Sabine didn’t have time to respond at all before they fell on her. Men’s hands were grabbing her from every direction, tearing off her uniform and pushing into her holes with reckless abandon. She felt a contraction hit her hard at the same time as a wave of relief when the CFO latched onto her refilled breast again and started eagerly sucking away. Someone else grabbed her other breast and another tongue began to lap at her clit as hands pulled her legs apart. Her muscles contracted again, and she began to pant heavily, but was interrupted by three men trying to shove their cocks into her mouth simultaneously. She opened wide to accommodate them as she felt more men try to enter her ass and pussy. Even more cocks rubbed up and down her sides, under her arms, against her feet and hands, and soon enough her colleagues were spurting cum all over her bulging, writhing body. Her waters gushed out of her, and she contracted again, her moans muffled by her mouthful of cocks, and mercifully the men trying to fuck her pussy made way for her baby as she started to crown. The baby, over five months overdue, was enormous, but Sabine strained and pushed and finally she was born. Someone placed the baby on her chest to feed. Once her colleagues were finished, Sabine lay on the conference table, utterly exhausted and covered with cum, and opened her eyes to see Mr. Boone above her.

“Well, Sabine,” he said to her, offering the lead again. “Your performance this quarter has been really spectacular. So much so that I’d love to have you assist me on a personal project.”

Before she had time to process what he meant, he had reattached the lead and shoved his cock deep into her pussy, coming almost immediately. He patted her still-round belly affectionately. “I’m glad you’re on board. Let’s get a coffee soon and go over the details.”

CEO’s Pet

Sharing yet another story I wrote for my personal blog :)

By @pregnancyismykink :)

You hadn’t planned on getting the job this way, but you weren’t about to complain either. You didn’t care how people looked at you, didn’t care how they talked about you behind your back during their lunch breaks. All you cared about was making sure the CEO was pleased.

Technically speaking, on the official paperwork, you’re his personal assistant, in charge of any and all requests he asks for. What’s not on the paperwork though, is that the majority of these requests involve getting him off.

Truthfully though? You didn’t care. You enjoyed being his personal slut. You had full access to the entire building, even the private conference room they used for high risk clients. And his clients never blinked their eyes at you. They knew the rules of your contract. Knew you couldn’t disclose anything without severe punishment.

The dress code was the only thing that gave you pause. It was written in the contract that you would wear nothing but an incredibly short skirt and skin tight tank top to accentuate your chest. No underwear, no bra, only high heels. Whatever necessary to make it easier for the CEO to get what he wanted.

On days like this, when he has meetings back to back and can’t get away to find you, you have to come to him. Everyone is used to seeing you by now so they don’t bat an eye when you walk in and bend over the conference room table, presenting your slick wet cunt to him. He wastes no time pulling his huge cock out and burying it into your hole, pounding into you hard enough to make the table rock. And the best part is he never stops the meeting. You’re fucked and used in front of everyone like a slut, and you love it.

He fills your hole so well, so much that you couldn’t move on to anyone else even if you wanted to. No one else could make you feel the way he did. And when you found out you were pregnant? It only made him hornier.

When you first started showing, your slight pouch pushing out against the skin tight tank top, he fucked you into the floor of his office, slapping your ass hard enough to leave welts. But when he finished, you pulled your skirt down and stood, moving to your own chair in the corner of the room, awaiting your next assignment.

The days went by and your belly grew larger every day. No doubt from the copious amounts of come he constantly fucked into you, but also from the babies growing inside you. The pregnancy made you even hornier too, actually leaking enough to drip down your thighs. And it drove him crazy.

One day he took you on someone else’s desk, unable to wait until you made it back to his office. And he’d discovered something new as well, a new toy he’d use when he really wanted your legs to tremble.

He’d bury himself deep in your cunt, pushing against your womb, and then he’d pinch your clit and nipple at the same time, making you scream and squirt all over everything. The floor, his desk, his lap, the chairs, whatever was underneath you, it got wet.

The dress code didn’t change either. No matter how big you were, you were still required to wear heels, a skirt, and a too tight shirt. Especially now with the pregnancy, your breasts were swollen more than ever and they poked out of the top of the shirt. And when he took you on the desk, or when he fucked you on the conference room table, the shirt did nothing to hold your breasts in. They bounced and leaked all over, his favorite playthings as his cock used you.

You arched your back with the orgasm as it slammed through you, squirting all over him as he continued to shove into your leaking cunt, and he pulled out like nothing happened, sitting back in his chair to continue the meeting, leaving you to clean yourself up.

When the 9 months passed, you were so swollen and sore but it still didn’t keep him away. If anything, it just made it worse. He’d bought a collar and leash to keep you at his side at all times now, unwilling to lose sight of your swollen form.

In the middle of a meeting with the president of the company, he yanked on your leash and pulled you over to him, pushing you down to your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, roughly gripping your hair as he thrusted in and out.

You knew how to block your gag reflex, how to open up so he could thrust all the way down the back of your throat. And you knew better than to pleasure yourself when you felt the need, for he had to give you permission.

It was then that you felt the first cramp, the first of many that pulled on your muscles and made you moan around his cock. Your baby was coming, but you still didn’t have permission to leave.

He thrust hard down your throat and held himself there as his hips stuttered and thick white ropes of come shot down your throat. You swallowed obediently, licking your lips when he pulled away. He made you stand in front of the people in the room, your shirt covered in spit and milk leaking from your engorged breasts, and he lifted your skirt to reveal your sloppy cunt.

He wasn’t done with you yet and he turned you around, pushing you roughly onto the table on your back, your huge belly straight up in the air, your legs spread to give him easy access. More cramps came and went as he started to fuck into you, and soon the baby fell into the birth canal, moving without your permission as contractions ripped through you.

If the CEO noticed, he didn’t care. He continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting the top of the baby’s head everytime, pushing it back in every time it made progress. When he finally came, spurting come into your soaking wet and throbbing cunt, he pulled out. Your cunt dripped with his come and your own juices, the baby now pushing out of you.

It started to crown, the burn in your pussy almost too much to hold back your scream but then he shoved it back in, his fist going deep inside you. “We still have 3 hours in this meeting. You can give birth after we’re done.”

You could only nod. You were an obedient pet.

There’s a pill, all the rage. Highly experimental though, to pause pregnancy. You waddle around from store to store trying to find one. You’re due any day now, but you’re not ready for this baby. The fact that you’d woken up to a twinge had you scared. It’s father is on a business trip and won’t be home for at least a week. The rate these twinges were hitting you, you weren’t going to last a week on your own.

It’s not that the stores don’t have the pill, it’s that you’re so far along that nobody in their right minds would sell you the pill. You have to resort to an over priced back alley deal to find some. Enough to last you 3 weeks, just in case your husband’s business deal keeps him out there longer.. as it usually does.

You race home and run to the kitchen with the bottle. You feel another twinge in your abdomen. This time stronger. Much stronger. You moan in concentration as the contraction takes over you. As soon as it ends you rush to get the pills open - DAMN SAFETY LOCK! You finally put a pill into your hand and you feel your pants begin to moisten. Your waters had broken. “Oh hell no. Not yet!”

There was a warning on the pills themselves, not to take during labor, but you popped it in your mouth and swallowed the water anyway.

Deep breath as another contraction hit. Much more intense than they were before the water breaking. You feel down and see you’re approximately 4cm dilated. Looking at the pills, you see there are 21.. one for each day. Each pill is meant to last for 24 hours.

You think about it and decide to swallow a handful of them at once. This should make it last the full week, without having to remember to take the pills again.

You call work, and request to begin maternity leave. You grab some snacks and pop in a movie to try and pass time. You have plenty of time to kill, to try and distract yourself.

By day 4 of laboring, you’re going insane. The pain won’t stop long enough to get any real rest. The baby inside you is kicking too, as if upset to be in this constant pressure. You still haven’t dilated past 4cm, so the pills are working.

Another contraction hits and you debate calling your husband. No, no. It’s ok, work comes first. He makes way more than you anyway.

You groan as the days tick by. You finally fall asleep, for a little while, but don’t realize that your pills had worn off. You wake up with the strongest urge to push. You reach down and say “fuck! I’m fully dilated!”

You pull out your phone and call your husband. “Honey, are you on your way home?”

“No, in fact I was just about to call you. I might be stuck out here another week. Sorry! Gotta go!” You could have sworn you heard a stifled giggle just before the call ended, but wrote it off as hallucinations from the medication. You try to ignore your urge as you waddle back to the kitchen. You swallow another handful of pills and this time bring the pills with you.

It’s pure torture the next week. The only relief you feel is when you give in to the urge to push, but these pills are so good that the baby will not enter your canal. It’s nearing the end of the second week, and once again you forget to take another pill. “Oh shit!”

You notice your pushing actually moving the baby. It’s to the point where the baby is visible, but sliding back in after your pushing. You’re so exhausted but you try not to look so tired as you call your husband.

“Oh hey, sorry babe. We just can’t seem to close this deal. I will let you know when I’m coming home. Stop calling so much!” He hung up without letting you get a word in.

“Fuck.” You mutter as you swallow the rest of the pills. You didn’t think you’d actually need all of them. Damn it.

You push and push, to no avail. You know the pills are working. The baby pokes out and slips back in. Sometimes you reach down and pet the top of the baby. You talk to it. Tell it daddy will be home soon. And you can’t wait to meet it.

You’re pushing to no avail. You don’t realize the pills would have worn off a day ago. You’re pushing and pushing and the baby won’t get past the peek a boo stage.

The labor might have been paused the last 3 weeks, but the baby is large. And it grew slightly over time. You pushed. You pushed. Another day. You pushed. Finally you realize 3 days after the pill ran out.

You call your husband it’s the middle of the night. His secretary answers the call. He’s.. indisposed at the moment. Her giggle is familiar. You hang up and throw your phone. You grip the sides of the couch and push with all your might. “This medicine had to have worn off my now!” You hissed.

You moaned as the head came to a complete crown. It burned! Left over traces of the pills clearly lingered. It took the better part of a day to get the head to fully pop out.

The door opened as the husband came in. “You’re in labor? When did this start!”

You look at him and glare “3 weeks ago, asshole. But you said not to disturb this meeting. You screwing her? The secretary? I heard her gigg- AAAAAAH” your word is cut off with a scream as you push the first shoulder fully out. A small push gets the other shoulder out.

You pick up the baby and hood it close. Your husband looks like he feels no remorse as he says “She’s pregnant and it’s mine.”

Tag me as sapphic

Imagine a bride walking down the line isle.

Not horribly huge but enough to ensure the birth is coming sooner than she thought.

Now imagine an x-ray od said bride witn a massive child that is head down on her pelvis walking down the isle

Each step a small contraction forcing a enormous offspring down a pettite opening

Now imagine the bride forced to stay upright while shes crowning

And when all is said and done the bride huffing and puffing to keep the child in her womb while the groom and his men take turns fucking all of her holes

And in the morning a exhausted bride with her offsprings head barely outside having to push harder and harder because the sun is rising and the day coming she can’t birth.

Now she is screaming and crying while the priset is trying to hold off her enormous baby.

Next day she is forced in a pool to stand while her groom shows off the size of his offspring

Aftet a shriek loud and clear the head is out.

The milkmaid comes and helps her out of the pool

Each step a small ecream

Each scream a tiny push

The calf is half out

The milkmaid helps her deliver but again the shoulders are stuck

So another day in the pool forced to float and scream when the calf reaches for the milkmaids tit

The groom forces her on to dry land where the calf finnaly drops.

Sadly he is fertile and has friends .

See you when the nuntaplates are about to be born

By: Birthedstars

“Now, behold! King Adam and Queen Bell!”

A tall young man, with short black curls for hair and bright golden eyes stood out on the balcony. He was clad in ornate, ceremonial red armor, with a golden trim and by his side was a young woman with slightly brown skin and flowing, long dark-brown hair.

She was also dressed extravagantly in similar red and gold robes, but everyone only took notice and excitement from the huge and round protrusion of her belly that stretched the fabric.

Today was the celebration of the soon to be born heirs or heiresses of the new kingdom and of their queen’s apparent fertility for having bore two children within only a few weeks of marriage. Their subjects, clergymen, soldiers, and nobel’s would likely party and feast all night for the unborn children.

The products of the king and queen’s union were the start of a new dynasty after the defeat of the demon emperor who’d reigned for nearly a quarter of the century. It was an understandable parade of joy.

A parade that some didn’t want to partake in. Bell could feel the eyes of Archbishop Romani on her. He was already an old grump of a man, who had a prudish attitude, but today it felt like he was being particularly intense.

Bell ignored it as best she could throughout the parade. It wasn’t particularly difficult considering, but as soon as her attendance met its need, she made her exit off the open balcony and went to her quarters to rest.

Bell dismissed her retainers so they could join in on the festivities themselves. She stripped off her clothing roughly, tired of being dolled up and hot. It was tailored to fit her gravid form, but it still chafed in all the wrong places and caused her temperature to rise. As soon as she relieved herself of the formal wear, her form began to change. Her skin turned pale like the midnight moon, hair changing to a blackened shade. Skin and flesh wings unfurled themselves from her shoulder blades and a tail with shiny ebony scales curled out of the base of her back. Bell’s hands turned as black as her wings and developed claws that one would more likely find on a beast. This form and her real identity was no secret to her nor Adam’s retainers. But it was a necessary magical disguise.

Bell’s real name was Beleth and she used to be both general and princess to the demon king who ruled previously. In the final battle, Beleth was mortally wounded and forced to hide in the same room she and Adam now shared. It was strange looking back at that moment in the state she was now. Adam had found her one night, a week after he slayed the king, with infected wounds and the first thing he did was treat them.

Beleth was sure Adam saw her as a project to be fixed at first. A test to see if Demons could be just as human as he was. Beleth already knew Demon’s and humans were similar aside from cultural differences and only certain stigmas from the past got in the way, but she entertained him nonetheless. They eventually got more attached as the months went and here she was.

The shift from being a warrior general to queen wasn’t a hard change. She’d opposed her fathers war from the onset and was basically groomed from birth to lead someday.  Just not people of the wingless and tailless persuasion.

Beleth attended to the weak and ill. Brokered peace with a nearby nation. She’d even fought in a border dispute or two. The last point riled up some traditionalists, the Archbishop included, in the court but the people didn’t care.

But those in the court soon had reason to rave about her. All they cared about was a queen who could produce a sizable number of heirs.

Beleth cupped the underside of her elongated belly. Being heavily pregnant had to be the worst thing Beleth experienced. Ever since the start, she’s had worse morning sickness than most, more painful cramps than most, and even achier breasts then most. Arthur said it was because she was carrying twins but she was sure it was one of the gods or her father cursing her for daring to carry two half-demon, half holy-blooded children.

But simultaneously, it was the best thing she’d felt in her life. Everytime she felt a kick from one of her children it made her heart flip and swell. Feeling them grow and Adam putting his ear to her bump did the same. Beleth couldn’t wait to hold their babies.

She’d never imagined she’d be pregnant, and with the new king’s children no less. The king she was tasked with killing in that bloody war. A lot has changed since then but it was for the better. Beleth still had to hide her true form from the church, but everyone in Adam’s inner circle was so kind and proved themselves to be a true friend to her.

Beleth put on a light night gown that let her belly hang out in the air and laid down on the huge bed she and Adam shared. She caressed her bare bump. She used to have abdominal muscles that displayed her strength. She was proud of them as one more focused on curses and magecraft. But now, she had a solid looking bump that would tremble now and then with the kicks of her children. It looked mountainous and round like a fortune teller’s glassy orb. Her pale skin maintained the smooth quality it had before and her belly button had protruded out for the surface like a solitary mountain peak. Her breasts, previously moderate in size,  had grown immense  - veiny and filled with milk. She shifted her black claws to the underside of her bump. The twins had been restless for the past few days. Seth, one of Adam’s close retainers estimated that she was still a week away, so there was still a bit of time left until birth despite looking like she was ready to pop with one false move.

“How are you three doing,” Adam said, leaning on the door to the room. He’d gotten rid of his ceremonial attire and was now dressed in casual trousers and shirt. He had an overly concerned look on his smooth face, his golden eyes studying her swollen form sympathetically. Adam was an extremely caring man. That side of him was the only reason she was alive in the first place, but he could get a bit overbearing when it came to making sure she and their children were ok.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Beleth responded, giving her belly an assuring pat as the skin’s surface rolled with the shifting of the babies. Adam’s face eased up when he saw the movement and joined Beleth on the bed, nestling close to her body. He rested his head right at the top of her bump

“They’re really active today, huh?” Adam said, rubbing his hand over the still undulating stomach and planting a kiss on its surface. “You two are little trouble makers already, huh?”

“They only get like this when you’re around,” Beleth sighed and jokingly shooed him away. “Now go do your kingly duties, so I can actually rest!”

“Oh come now, can’t I get a little bit of a break to spend time with my family?” Adam said while tracing his finger around the kicks and punches coming through the skin of her belly.

“Fine, but only because your hands are so relaxing,” Beleth said, curling her tail around Adam to pull him closer and taking a smooth bottle off their night stand.

“Ah ha, putting me to work are you,” Adam smiled, taking the bottle in his hands. He uncorked it and tilted it over Beleth’s belly, a creamy gold liquid dripped onto her taut skin - special massaging ointment just for her aches and pains. Adam began rubbing the ointment into her skin with smooth circles and kneading her belly lightly with his fingers.

Beleth closed her eyes and sighed in satisfaction. His hands never failed to soothe her, but now her mind was on something else.

“Do you think they’ll be ok?” She asked.

“Hmm? We know they’re going to be healthy, we have Seth’s assurances, ” Adam said. Seth was one of Adam’s closest retainers and a former member of the clergy before Adam took up arms against the demon king.

“What about the church then? What would they do if they found out they were half demon?”

Beleth could feel Adam’s hands tense over her belly protectively. Beleth knew the church would mark her for death or exile at the very least if they ever found out she’d birthed two demon children. Even if she were human, it would mean torture and a nun’s life in some far beyond priory for the rest of her days.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. Seth is a trusted member of my circle; he wouldn’t dare let the church find out about you or them,“ Adam said, a sharpness entered his voice and his hands felt firmer on her belly.

"If they do anything to you three, I’ll have their heads. All of them,” he said sternly.

Beleth took comfort in that. Adam had been extremely protective of her since he found out about the babies, going so far to even scribe several protective charms against sickness and blades on her body.

But she hoped that the time the charms would be a use and for Adam to take up his sword would never come to pass. Adam was a kind man. She didn’t want that to change.

They remained there in peace for a few moments until Beleth felt something rub up against her clit. She recognized the careful touch of Adam’s fingers instantly.

“Getting a little handsy, my love,” she moaned with a smile.

“I’m just attending to my kingly duties, like you asked,” he said softly. “I’ll take your mind off of the church.”

Adam moved down her body until he found his face at the lips of her vagina. He started slowly, his tongue only grazing the pregnant swollen, sensitive surface of her folds. Beleth let out a whispery moan and her tail started to curl. As Adam’s pace quickened, Beleth felt the pleasure course through her body. So much so that her dome-like belly slightly contracted.

She groaned and clutched the sides of her aching sphere as Adam continued to pleasure her. His hands moved to the sides of her belly and met her own, interlocking with each other. Beleth’s moans shifted into a sequence of high pitch squeals as she neared orgasm. Her wet pussy was throbbing with the need to cum and Adam sensed that.

He increased the pace of his tongue movements up and across her slit, even going as far as to suck on her throbbing clit.

“By the gods! Oooough,” she moaned out loudly as her stomach contacted and the feeling of euphoric release coursed through her as she orgasmed.

“Are you ok?” Adam asked, moving back up to her face with gue hands still on her contracting bump. This tended to happen when she and Adam would pleasure each other.

“Yeah, but I think I’ll need more of your royal attention later…” She said, still stroking her bump.

“Of course, I’ll try not to get tied up in the festivities,” Adam planted a kiss on her lips and put on some of his less formal wear for the party. Then he left the room to leave Beleth to rest.

Beleth thought she’d change her mind when he left, but another uncomfortable flip and contraction told her she’d rather rest than party.

That Night:

Beleth awoke to a knock on the door. She vacantly fluttered her eyes open. She reached for the bed space beside her to find it empty. Adam must have still been at the party.

Beleth sighed and got up from the bed as another knock came through. She shifted back to the bell disguise she wore in public and opened the door.

“What is the mea-”

Before her was a tall man dressed in the blue and white church robes that covered half his face. In an instant a cloud of white smoke enveloped her face.

It was like Beleth’s body went completely limp in that moment and fell into the man’s arms. Her lips couldn’t form shapes and her brain started to muddle as she quickly drifted back to sleep.

====

Beleth next awoke to the chaffing of irons on her wrists and ankles, and her wings bound and folded to her back. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the space she was confined in. It looked like the walls were made of solid, well aged cobblestone, probably from an age before her time. Directly in front of her was a single door.

“Shit…” she muttered, recognizing the shape and formation of the sigils. Exorcism magic. A spell of this caliber couldn’t kill her, but it would hurt like hell.

“I see our ‘Queen’ is awake,” said a gravelly voice. An older man dressed in ornate robes with the colors and crest of the church. Archbishop Romani.

“What do you want with me?” Beleth asked sharply.

“Well, I wish to wash you and your children’s tainted existence from the world,” Romani spat. “However, the good king Adam has taken too many precautions…”

The protective runes Adam placed on her and the babies were probably the only reason Beleth wasn’t dead right now. Blades and poisons wouldn’t do a thing.

“So, I have opted to bring you to these grand ruins to conduct your release from life,” the old man clasped his hands together and sneered. “Unfortunately, the path there will be quite painful.”

The sigil underneath Beleth started to radiate a pale white. A burning sensation started to encompass her body like a wildfire in a dry forest.  

Beleth started out with a low groan, then reached a guttural scream as the sigil intensified in power. It felt as thought her body was being forcefully pulled apart. Her eyes felt like they would boil in her head. Beleth squirmed wildly under the weight of her belly and against the tight shackles.

“FUCK,” she cried as the pain mounted further. The bishop smiled and increased the power.

The torture lasted long enough that Beleth had forgotten where and why she was even in pain. The beginning of burns and bruises speckled her body. Her children were still as lively as ever though, kicking around her swollen stomach. That gave her a little bit of hope.

The bishop sighed like he’d just sank in a heated bath. “I hope you aren’t too exhausted, we will begin anew tomorrow.”

Romani had to have found enjoyment in seeing her writhe in pain. But the only thing she could do was pray that Adam would find her.

4 Weeks later:

Four weeks of pain. Screaming. Being tortured. Beleth’s breathing was constantly haggard. Everyday she endured the same torture of a priest coming to activate light sigil under her. Everytime it felt like her body was being seared, inverted, and battered. The only thing that kept her from falling apart were her babies. They were as lively as ever. The blood of their father probably kept them safe from the church’s magic.

The children still continued to grow as well. Stretch marks had started appearing more frequently and the weight of her belly had increased considerably. If her body wasn’t so weak, she’d probably have noticed that a hard sphere sat right on her pelvis.

At the very least, Beleth had a better grasp of the situation than before. From the idle chit chat she picked up from the guards, the church had conducted a half effective coup against the “demon fucker” king as they called Adam. The night of the celebration, most, if not all of the clergymen started to paint the walls of the castle red. Unfortunately for them, they were in a den of warriors who’d fought far worse than spindly scripture readers.

Their only prize from that night had been her and for the last four weeks they’d been enjoying her capture to the fullest. But that was going to change. Romani hadn’t come by in at least two days, which gave Beleth time to recover at least a fraction of her strength.

Beleth took a deep breath and recited a spell - enchantment.  She heard the two guardsmen shift a bit and then after a second, they unlocked the door. They approached her and undid the locks on her shackled arms and legs. Beleth heaved her swollen form off the ground and with the snap of her fingers, the guards fell to the ground.

Beleth walked over the comatose guards and nearly fell onto the side of the rock wall. Her body was still exhausted and she had to move away fast.

Beleth traveled as speedily as she could through the catacombs. Her pointed out bump hung low as she lent onto the catacomb walls, one hand holding her up against the stone and the other supporting the underside of her belly. She hadn’t stood on two legs in weeks and her body never adjusted to having a heftier load of overdue twins. Even worse was the ever strengthening twinges of pain that coursed through her belly.

“Ouughh, please, you have to hold on, I can’t give birth right now,” she mumbled. They felt so low. She needed to get out of the catacombs before the guards woke up or Romani came back.

She continued waddling into the catacombs, following the scent of fresh air. Each step felt like she was getting closer and closer to bursting. The dusty air of the tunnels didn’t help, her breathing became harder to control as labor pains washed over her. She stopped every couple minutes to catch her breath. Each stop made the pressure feel heavier and heavier.

Beleth stopped and leant all her weight on the wall, a particularly contraction gripped her entire stomach. The pressure peaked in her cervix. It felt like something fleshy was bulging out of her, threatening to burst.

“Ahhh fuck, fuck, oooou-OUUGH!” Beleth moaned and cried out as a gush of water splashed out between her legs. The weight of her first baby’s head pressed hard on her cervix.

“No, no, no, not now!” Beleth felt like breaking down. The exit wasn’t in sight, the guards were probably on their way and the babies were coming. She wanted Adam at her side. She NEEDED Adam right now.

Despite the overwhelming pressure and the feeling of needing to bear down, she propped herself up and continued waddling down the corridor.

Walking probably made things worse. The baby felt like it was moving lower and lower despite her resistance against pushing. She hadn’t thought to check herself when her waters broke, but now she was certain she was close to fully dilated if she wasn’t already. Her gait widened with the feeling of her big headed baby opening her cervix.  

Luckily the smell of the outside got stronger, but the sound of metal scraping metal, order shouting, and footsteps became louder as well. Beleth cautiously made her forward, biting her lip through another painful contraction. The sound of a group of footsteps started to get closer.

“Alright men, fan out. The monster couldn’t have gotten far,” said a gruff voice. “We gotta hurry up before the king gets here.”

Beleth quickly ducked into a pathway away from the church soldiers. Her hastening movement made the baby crawl downward even further and make fluid drip from her folds. Beleth cursed as she waddled down the winding ways until she came across another room akin to the cell she was captured in down a narrow pathway; the only difference was that a few cave rocks had tumbled over the entrance. She squeezed her way in, heaved her heavy bump over the rocks and went inside the room.

Beleth’s legs finally caved underneath her. The pressure was too great now and she could feel the baby reach the opening of her vagina. She whimpered as the burn started to encompass her.

“Hey, look! This gotta be from her!” A voice echoed from beyond the abandoned cell door. They probably found the spattering of fluid she’d been leaking.

The contraction intensified and the baby started opening her up more. She quickly put her hand between her legs and held the head steady, even moving it back a few notches. If she gave birth, its cries would alert them to her immediately.

Beleth had no idea how long she was restrained there. Contraction after contraction compressed her womb and tried to force her baby against her palm as the soldiers continued poking around the nearby tunnels searching for her.

“C'mon and leave you bastards,” she hissed. Sweat matted her hair to her shoulders, her body was exhausted from the constant contractions without progress. Beleth worried that she might not have the stamina to escape the catacombs even if they did leave. The baby was still bulging the lips of her crotch and with each passing moment Beleth felt like giving in to the persisting urge to push.

After what felt like an eternity, Beleth heard screaming and the clash of steel echo through the rock corridors. She still kept quiet amidst the ruckus and screaming soldiers.

After 15 minutes, the battle started to move farther into the caves. Beleth moved her hand away from her mouth, her breathing immediately rougher than before.

Suddenly, Beleth heard a familiar set of voices.

“Adam, they must have moved her.”

“No! I know she’s here, I can feel it!”

Adam and Seth!

“I’m here! Oouuuugh, I’M HERE BEHIND THE DOOR, HURRY!” Beleth screamed hoarsely. Her stomach contracted hard on her, she couldn’t restrain the head any longer. She removed her hand and bore down hard with the full pressure.

Adam and Seth slammed open the door to see her legs spread wide with a huge head at full crown in her pussy. Adam nearly slid to Beleth’s side.

“By the gods Beleth, I’m so sorry!” He took her hand into his. Through her blurred vision, she saw tears streaming from his eyes.

“The babies are coming, they’re so big!” Beleth clutched her contracting stomach as she bore down. She began to wonder if she needed to hold the baby back at all with how slowly it seemed to pull her open.

Seth tore off his armored gauntlets and gloves and knelt between Beleth’s legs. The head of the first baby slowly spread out her pussy.

“It fucking burns, Aaaaaauuuuhhgh!” Beleth continued to push with the pain. She could feel every little feature on her child’s face as it passed through her. Her hard stomach heaved and contracted further making Beleth bear down even stronger. Soon, she felt a release. The head finally gushed forth from her pussy. Seth caught the head in palms and checked the head for a cord.

Beleth lent on Adam’s body and panted for a bit, trying to catch her breath. Adam rubbed soothing circles around her still large stomach. The respite didn’t last long, the shoulders of the baby quickly shoved their way toward Beleth’s strained slit with a strong contraction. Her skin was still tight, but it relented easier with having just birthed the head.

Her whole face turned red as she pushed down and the shoulders slowly slid out. Seth helped to bring the long overdue child out of her. Beleth’s still hard dome of a stomach shrank only a bit and amidst the contraction, the second child began its descent. Beleth fell back onto Adam’s body again.

“Congratulations, you two have a healthy prince!” Seth announced as the baby started crying. He tore off a large piece of his cape and swaddled it after cutting the cord.

“I’m so glad you’re here…” Beleth whispered to Adam.

“I am too,” Adam planted a kiss on her sweaty forehead.

The second child began its slow arrival soon after the first. However, Beleth was far too weak at this point. The torture, having to endure contraction, it had finally settled into her body.  

Seth shook his head as another contraction passed without progress. The baby’s head was just at the cusp of beginning to crown, but Beleth’s pushes were far too weak and she was in no condition to stand. Seth only had one plan.

“You both won’t like this,” Seth said, observing Beleth’s worn state. “Adam, on her next push, press down on the top of her belly. Beleth, you’ll feel more pressure, but you need this baby out.”

More pain was the last thing Adam wanted to inflict on his wife. Beleth wrapped her tail comfortingly around Adam’s waist.

“It’s ok, I can take it.” Beleth said softly with a rasp in her throat. She heard him swallow hard behind her as he put his hands firmly on top of her belly. The surface hardened under his palms and Beleth recoiled into his body.

She bore down with what little strength she had and Adam pressed down hard on the top of her belly. Beleth grit her teeth as she felt the pressure increase with his help. Their baby started to crown steadily until Seth was able to put his fingers around the head.

Beleth arched her back as the contraction tightened even harder and the big head stretched her into the ring of fire. Her face scrunched up as the baby moved further and further.

Then with a small tug from Seth, the baby’s head erupted from her vagina with a large gush of fluid. The contraction started to soften, but Beleth continued to push. She was desperate for this to be over.

The shoulders slid steadily out of her and then the body. Seth caught the last babe and brought it up to Beleth’s tired arms.

“A second prince for you two,” Seth said proudly as he brought the first twin up to the royal parents.

All Beleth wanted to do now was sleep, but finally holding the babies she’d long waited for kept the exhaustion at bay. Adam was beside himself as well. He’d thought the worst had happened when Beleth was taken but here he was staring, tears in his eyes, at his children and exceptionally strong wife.

Once the placenta was birthed, Seth and Adam carried her and the children out of the cave. The bodies of Romani’s men were scattered about the cavern walls, no doubt Romani himself would be amongst them.

She didn’t care about vengeance right now though. She only cared about the two bundles of joy in her arms.

(ModNote: Please read the tags on this story carefully as it features heavy scenes of rape and humiliation.)

It’s been a long long time but I wrote a pregnant mobster story Called “Right Hand Man” WAaaAAY back when and decided to write another self-indulgent fic uwu. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you want me to continue!- Leo

~

Being a celebrity was difficult as it was. Going out into the public wearing regular clothing wasn’t as foolproof as you thought. Especially carrying a few dozen or so eggs in you. Over the months you had grown larger, around four you had to hide away in your home, you were larger than what most carried and never did you want your scandalous secret to go out into the public. Stress wasn’t good for the eggs and reading tabloids that made up conspiracies about your disappearance didn’t help as well. But enough was enough. No one would suspect you being massively pregnant. Would they? So far no one recognized you on the street. You wore a wig, a baggy sweater, and a long skirt. Of course you shouldn’t have snuck out of the house so close to your due date but you couldn’t help it. You needed to get out. Even if just for an hour. 

You went to a coffee shop and sat down in the far corner reading another magazine article about your disappearance. Happily you sipped on your coffee and felt a pang deep within your stomach. It was happening all morning and you thought nothing of it. This time it was worse though and it worried you. Maybe you would make it home in time for the birth. You closed the magazine and pretended to finish up your drink but soon you realized you were being watched. You lowered your coffee before they came over. But it was too late. The paparazzi knew it was you. They were ready with their phones to take pictures and soon fans spun around to look at you. They chanted for your name and told you to look into the camera. They asked you who the father was. Another pang came to your side as the stress came over you. You groaned, widening your legs as the pressure became too much all too suddenly. You felt something give way in your lower pelvis, water gushing forth from your heat and down your legs. You groaned struggling to get up from the booth but your belly was in the way. You barely made it out, a paparazzi taking you by your skirt. You didn’t care that it ripped. You had to get away. You rushed out of the coffee shop the best you could, fighting the clamping sensation around your belly. You had to stop as a contraction ripped through you. You felt like a boulder was sitting in your pelvis, giving you the false idea to push. You groaned, clawing at the brick wall next to you. “No, no, no!” You chanted face twisted into pain From around the corner you heard the paparazzi catching up to you. Luckily the contraction went away and you could start running once again. But with each step more fluid ran down from between your legs. Something was coming out. You cried out in pain coming to a stop in an alleyway. You covered your mouth as the crowd of people rushed by you. Thankful you bought enough time you traveled further into the alleyway. You stopped once more crouching into a squat as another contraction took hold. More liquid that surrounded your eggs poured from your heat as something heavy knocked into your unprepared cervix. “No…please, no…oh god…” You rasped holding your twitching belly. You could feel the way the eggs clacked against one another, the way contractions forced them to stir within you. Your womb was filled to the brim. Finally you fell onto your hands and knees rocking back and forth as the contractions came closer. Your stomach gurgled and shifted as you tried to stifle your moans. Your fingernails clutched the surface of the damp ground. The first egg assaulted your cervix forcibly opening you wider. You couldn’t help it. A cry that started in your throat was released as a wail as the egg forcibly opened you up. Your pussy bulged outward as a light blue shell was seen from between your puffy pregnant lips. Fluid continued to drip from your hole and along the underside of your belly. You were thankful you didn’t wear underwear. “Oh god…oh god please…” You begged tears in your eyes. Slowly it continued to spread you open forcing you to spread your knees wider. The tip was now out and had paused at its widest width. You felt like you were going to split or tear but miraculously you didn’t. The egg slowly pushed forward with another grunt and push and came out with a squelch of amniotic fluid. You collapsed on your side in exhaustion clutching your still too filled belly. Breaths came out of you in short pants. Sweat beaded your forehead. Another egg was already in place. And not only that an anal egg was ready to be birthed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, tears in your eyes as they slowly descended to be birthed from your holes. With one hand you raised your leg by your thigh, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gave birth both analy and vaginally. The blue eggs slowly widened you, further and further, gooey fluid gushed from around the eggs as they popped out of you one by one. When they were free you lay there exhausted and somehow so very turned on. Somewhere from the opening of the alleyway you heard a voice but at this point you didn’t care. The pain was mixing with the pleasure. And even as the paparazzi found you and said their words of disgust. You could see the arousal in their pants. The women even began to circle their clits. Flashes from the camera blinded you as you tried to get away murmuring to not look. You tried getting onto all fours once more but another contraction ripped through you and you moaned loudly. One of the men stepped forward with a grin shoving your face into the ground so your ass was presented perfectly. “No one will know about this if you do us one favor.” You knew what was coming. He rammed his cock into your swollen and battered pussy and you cried out. Another cock was forced into your mouth before you could protest. Around the large cock you whimpered and moaned. Your eyes looked up to the man who held a camera down at you. Disgust was betrayed with lust and suddenly you didn’t seem to mind. Deep down you knew you were made for this. To be used, and bread, and constantly filled with eggs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the man shoved his cock down your throat, bulging your neck as he did so. “Such a good little whore.” Your eggs continued to press further and further against your pussy. But the cock in you stopped any progression. You moaned in frustration and pain, but the man face-fucking you only cooed at the vibrations you were making. “Fuck, I can feel it in you. What the fuck did you do you little whore?” The man gripped you around your swinging belly, his balls slapping hard against your clit as he slammed into ruthlessly. “Fuck it’s right there…you feel so good around me. Fuck…!” His pace became messy as he came in you. His heat made your stomach cramp up and to your horror your stomach gurgled. You widened your eyes trying to push the man you were sucking off away before he came too. But he forced you to take his cock balls deep as he painted your throat with his load. You held your stomach as you sobbed around his cock. Before your eyes your stomach grew larger, the eggs growing in size. “What the fuck?” One of the women said. “Holy shit.” You sobbed freely as the eggs grew and grew with both loads swimming in your belly. When the cock was pulled free from your mouth you raised yourself onto all fours choking and gagging for air. “Please-!” You said. “No more…or I won’t be able to-” You couldn’t say another word. Another cock was forced into your mouth. “Suck it bitch, we had an agreement.” You looked up to the man with teary eyes and he smiled down at you cupping your cheek. “Don’t be sad baby…we’ll make sure you feel nice and good when this is over.” He slapped you harshly and you groaned in pain. A scream left your throat as the egg that was being prevented from being birthed was now rushing out of you. You widened your legs and bore down with all you had, screaming around the cock in your mouth. You were seeing stars as the egg became lodged in your pelvis. “Sarah, help her out. I can’t use her hole like that!” A man said angrily. The woman was under you the next moment licking and sucking at your hole that was spread wide by an egg. She rubbed her own clit as she sucked your poor swollen nub. “Come on baby…celebrity or not we told ya we would take care of you…we don’t mean to be mean.” She hummed. As you continued sucking off the cock in your mouth your body convulsed and contracted around the egg keeping you wide and open. Your only saving grace was the buildup of your own release that the woman below you was creating. It didn’t take much. The growing wave was enough to push and pop the egg free. But as soon as it was out you were left with a finish, squirting and trembling. The woman chuckled sucking up every drop. “Did you cum around that fat egg?” She cooed, hands circling your ass to open it wider for the man complaining about the egg blocking his way. “Too bad.” You screamed around the cock in your mouth as a larger one was slammed into your asshole. Just as you screamed, the man finished in your mouth. “Don’t you dare waste a single drop. Swallow it all.” You were forced to swallow the bitter fluid down and in doing so your belly moaned and skin creaked as angry stretch marks spiderwebbed along the bottom of your belly. “She’s like a fucking cow.” The man behind you jammed his cock as deep as it would go and to your horror came his load in you as well. You cried out and held your belly as the impossible limits were pushed. Your belly button that wasn’t popped before now was. Your tits had grown and were now spewing milk. The woman was below you ready to suck on each one with pleased hums. “Come on, this isn’t so bad is it, mommy?” The cock in your ass felt raw and painful and the egg that was so much larger than you could birth was bearing down on your pussy walls. You swallowed the remainder of the load that was in your mouth and pulled off. “Please…please, it’s too big. I can’t…it’s gonna split me in two. H-Help me…I need to-” The feral groan that turned into a scream left your throat as your next egg pushed forward and pressed against the cock you were taking. “Please! St-stop no more!”

The woman below you held your still gigantic and swinging belly steady. “That’s it you bitch, cum on my cock and the fucking bastard I put in you.” That made something in you moan loudly. The man behind you wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled it back. You continued to grunt and moan on each contraction that pushed the egg out of you further and further. “Oh god, it’s splitting me in half. My fucking-my-!” You yelled again as the widest part of the egg faced outward. Your legs were forcibly pushed apart by the expanse of the egg, rubbing against your pelvis bone. Red swollen pussy lips were now stretched white, your swollen clit a barely noticeable nub at the top of your opening. Your asshole winked open and closed as you attempted to force the egg out of you. “Please help me. Please, it hurts. God it hurts…” The woman under you smiled, continuing to suck your milky tits. “How about we try again?” The woman said, wrapping her mouth around your clit once more, gently cupping the large egg that was splitting you in two. She suckled, moaning in pleasure as she circled her finger around your pulled too tight white lips. “Please, oh fuck…please, I’m going to split!” Your voice echoed. The woman under you sucked your nub harder and pressed a finger past the egg to assist you. It was enough to have a sudden finish come crashing over you. The egg jolted forward and fell onto her lap. She pulled off of you, gently cupping your ruined pussy. “There you go, babe. Got anymore in you?” She rubbed the underside of your belly so very lovingly, nudging her nose against your swollen belly button.

You had no energy left in you and for now the eggs that clacked in your stomach grew. You collapsed onto your side and twitched with the after waves of pleasure. “Because…” The woman now by your side was grinning and looking up to the men around you, stroking their half hard cocks. “It looks like they do.”

Retribution

Lance Buchanan loved his job. Hearing women suffer and screech as they pushed out overgrown babies was a delight to him. He didn’t have a fetish for birth or pregnancy, mind you. No, he just liked seeing them in pain and his Job and privileges facilitated that. He couldn’t hear pain like this in any other place in the hospital, patients were too reduced by painkillers or anesthesia to give him those cries. But here, as the head doctor of the maternity ward, he could just tell birthing mothers that they had progressed too far for epidurals or any pain relief. The Nurses would protest his decisions if his father didn’t own the hospital or if his Mother didn’t have a whole firm of lawyers and personal investigators to ruin their lives should they blow the whistle. 

Lance sighed, as he walked away from one of the rooms, loud cries of grief emanating from within. This happened from time to time. Breech births and large babies were the most enjoyable to him. Too enjoyable. Once in a while, like today, he would get someone with both and typically…the mother wouldn’t exactly be a mother anymore once he got his fill. This produced issues for him occasionally but nothing a check wouldn’t solve. Nothing wiped up tears like money, and he had a lot of it. 

“Wish I enjoyed that one a bit longer, these normal ones don’t cut much anymore,” he mused as he walked out into the waiting room on his way out of the hospital. As he walked through he felt a piercing gaze burn through the side of his head. He turned to see a young woman glaring at him, her visitors pass indicating she was with the woman he just left. 

“How unfortunate…,” he thought. Not about the loss, but about the money he was about to lose. He recognized that look. 

He ignored her and kept his stride and continued to the private parking garage, it was getting late and he needed some rest before any more expectant mothers came up. 

On his trip to the garage he felt like someone was following him. Probably just a nosy investigative reporter he would have to shoo off later. He put his key into the door and suddenly his vision started to fade. 

“What the…,” lance staggered and collapsed onto the cold ground. 

Lance’s eyes fluttered open and groaned. His vision was blurred for a but he could tell he was in one of the basement level wards that were under renovation. Cold air glossed over his body, he must have been fully nude. “This some kind of prank or scheme?” Lance thought. 

Aside from his surroundings, Lance noticed something else, a heavy weight sitting on top of his abdomen. He moved his head, stiff neck and all, to get a view of what was on him. What he saw had to be fantasy. 

A gargantuan sphere of his skin was pulled taut and distended from his body. A dark line cut through his now poking out belly button. even his muscular chest grew in size, but not in muscle, they felt strained and achy, like they were holding fluid inside of them. He could feel a large amount of wiggling from within the taut surface of his skin. Lance’s breathing started to meet a rapid pace. 

“What the fuck is going on,” he gingerly placed a hand on the drum tight skin of his belly. It was real, it was warm, and there was SOMETHING in it. Lance did his best to calm himself as reality started to set in with each squirm and kick inside. 

“Finally…you’re awake…" 

A thin, sultry voice echoed in the unfinished room. Lance looked up from his pulsating dome to see the woman from the waiting room leaning on the shoddy door frame. 

"You! What-what did you do to me?!” Lance yelled aggressively. He started to move off the shoddy hospital bed, gravid form and all. 

“Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere,” the young woman snapped her fingers. Wires wrapped around Lance’s legs and across his chest right under his milk filled tits. The wires pulled him back onto the bed and held tightly snug into the beds surface. 

“W-who are you, what’d you want? I have money, I can pay you right now, I can give you blank checks!” Lance tried to barter his way out of…whatever this was. 

“I have no need for money, I just want to see you suffer. Not such a different motive than the one you had when you refused to help my sister and her child, yes?” The woman’s cold gaze drilled into him. 

“She waited so long for that child…tried so hard for it, she wouldn’t even let me intervene…,” her solemn tone started to give way to rage. “But you took that away…you caused her so much pain for nothing, so I’m going to do the same to you.” The woman snapped her fingers. 

Lance’s giant orb seized in on him, a large amount of pressure increased at the base of his belly. A large dome like object pressed firmly on his pelvis. 

Lance’s hands gripped the contracting orb. “You can’t seriously expect me to give birth! I don’t even have a birth canal or a vagina!” Lance shrieked as the contraction tightened. 

“Don’t worry I’ve made the necessary…modifications." 

Lance suddenly felt a gush of fluid spew from his penis. The next contraction rolled in even harder, the head grinding on his pelvis without the cushion of water. 

"I’ve created a path from your womb to your little penis there. Don’t worry, I’ve given it the capacity to stretch. Not enough to make this easy though.” The woman sneered as Lance’s belly convulsed with a contraction. 

Lance howled in pain. “P-please stop thissaaaaaaaaaughh, I’ll pay you anything you want! Thousands? Millio- AUUUUUGGGGGRRRRR!!!!!" 

The woman clapped her hands in the middle of his bartering. The vice on his stomach seized even harder on him, his teeth grinded as the head seemed to move through his new canal. 

"Try to tempt me again and I’ll make your labor even harder. Do. Not. Tempt. Me.” she looked upon him in disgust. 

What felt like hours had passed. Lance was drenched in sweat, his fertile swell beat red and quivering with constant contractions. Ever since that woman clapped the contractions felt like he was getting slowly rolled over by a semi-truck. Lance could feel the head of the child at the base of his member. A deep throb started coursing through it as the large head started to stretch it beyond what was normal. Lance’s voice was hoarse from pushing and screaming out the child, for he had long given in to the manufactured desire to push. He had no idea that this was what it felt like. The pain, feeling that he could just collapse in on himself at any point. 

His stomach seized in on him again, his tented out belly button piercing the air as his womb became visible. He could feel the huge body enter the long canal of his penis, the sheer weight of the child pressing on his balls causing him to buck his hips upward. 

“GAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGHHH!” he shrieked hoarsely as he tried to push the child out. The entire body was now snuggly fit in his genitals, the head opening up the thick tip of it. The burning ring started encompass the entire surface of the tip.

“FUCKING HELL, JUST GET IT OUT OF ME, I CAN’T DO THIS,” Lance howled. 

The woman gave him a faux look of pity. “Begging for it to end huh? Hmmmm, I think I’ll take a play out of your book instead." 

She pointed at his spread open crotch. The baby started sliding back through him, half of it reaching back into his womb. 

"NOOOOOOO, YOU BITCH, I SWEAR I’LL END YOU!” Lance snarled as he dug his fingers into his taut, steel hard sphere, the progress he made all for naught. 

The deconstructed hospital room echoed once more with pained shrieks as he pushed the child back to the tip of his throbbing member. The burn came yet again as the humongous head spread the tip wide. 

“Would you look at that, you’re spreading beautifully now. Looks like I made the right choice, hm?” The woman sneered

Lance was too delirious from exhaustion to retort, but he knew he hadn’t spread any more or less than before.  

Lance gave another howling pushing, his sweat drenched belly constricting to the max. The head bursted out of the tight hole with a gush of fluid. Lance gasped at the sudden release. The shoulders quickly spread him back open. Through clenched teeth, squenched eyes, and a contraction that felt like his organs and bones were gonna snap in half, lance pushed the rest of the baby out his genitals. He fell back heaving and exhausted, his stomach nothing but a mound of pudge slightly contracted to get rid of the after birth. Lance expected to hear more of the woman’s spiteful jeers but a cursory glance around the room told him she was no longer there. Where had she gone? 

Suddenly the room shimmered with bright sparkles, the entire space transforming into one of the ground maternity wards, the doors wide open and a mass of reporters standing in front of them. The baby shrieked to life and the reporters turned to notice Lance. Completely nude, disheveled, and a baby between his legs. 

Amongst the sudden flash of pictures and the uprise of questions, Lance caught a glimpse of the witch who did this to him. Half cocked smile and all.