Birthbitchii - Birth Bitch

She was in full denial.

Although she had felt the insemination, every moment of it, on the alien craft, she was in denial. The eggs, afterall, were small and soft and so when she awoke in a cold sweat, she didn't feel different. As she walked downstairs to eat breakfast, she had no way of knowing, the alien eggs were attaching to her uterus and growing.

She went to her classes, unaware that the eggs were not only implanting but growing. She went about her day without a single care, besides the odd twinge of pain that was easy to ignore, as the eggs grew.

She pulled on her dress to go out and only briefly ran her hands along the slight swell beneath her navel. There's nothing to worry about. She sucked in, and while it didn't disappear, it wasn't obvious.

She danced, they grew. She met a man. He bought her a drink. The eggs *ached* to be fertilized. She smiled and glowed, running a hand along his thigh. Her breasts felt fuller

In the bathroom now, he is pulling up her dress and down her panties. He enters her against the sink as she gasps. He is nothing special, but it feels so good, like ectasy, every thrust a mission. In minutes he climaxes, soaking the eggs, which each suck up multiple sperm.

She goes back to dancing, unaware.

The next morning, she wakes up to a pounding headache and an aching gut. She stumbles from bed to go for the advil but stops in front of the mirror. Her belly is hanging off of her like she's at least 6 months pregnant. Her mouth drops open. How is this possible? Is she dreaming?

She touches it slowly and it feels real. What on Earth . . . ? She lifts her heavy stomach and drops it. She has to laugh, as this is too insane.

She doesn't know what to do except put on a hoodie to hide her stomach and go to work. She might have been in shock, but it felt so unreal.

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She just got on the bus and went to work. She ignored the feeling of foreign objects clacking and shifting inside her. She would have to alter how she stood at the deli counter as the eggs in her changed shape.

On break, people give her odd looks as she hunches over the table, sweating, rubbing her stomach. She feels like something is wrong, but she will just go to the doctor after work. It's been eight hours since she was fucked.

Her belly was now halfway exposed and there was no hiding it as she walked, slowly, from station to station.

"Are you okay, miss?" An older woman asked. She smiled and handed her the sliced ham and said she was just tired. The older woman looked at her belly with concern but said nothing.

The store closed, and she began to clean her section.

That was when the eggs began to hatch inside her.

She has never felt anything so intenae or weirdly violent. She gasps in the dimly lit store, doubling over the mop bucket as the first of many eggs crack inside her womb, the alien spawn slowly emerging. It was so painful she was struck mute for a moment.

Dropping the mop, she starts to walk as quickly as she can, her gait wide, to the front of the store. She feels something hard but sharp press into her birth canal. Another egg hatches inside her, CRACK, and she screams.

"Something is wrong!"

Her coworker was shocked as he found her, still swelling, her stomach moving unnaturally. The normal, gentle fetal movements were replaced with thumps and thrashes. She is collapsed to her knees and then her back.

"Help!!" She cried, her throat tight, her belly growing as more and more aliens emerge.

"I'll call 911!" Her coworker offered, but he just needed to get away from her. She rolled onto her side, her stomach churning, tossing, pressing, sharp egg shell mixing with inhuman limbs. Still growing.

"Come back and help me!" She screamed as her coworker ran out of the building. "Get them out of me!!" Slowly, getting to her knees, she started to crawl. "They're killing me!!"

Her belly hung low, swinging underneath her, as she tried to reach the phone. It slowly pressed out, the movements jerking in all directions. Before she could reach the counter, her stomach touched the ground, her bellybutton grazing it.

She reached for the phone, a moment away, stretching pressed the creatures down towards her hips, before a sharp contraction, her belly oressing out further, pushing her back down.

She rolled onto her back and felt pinned. This was it. She screamed as her body worked to try to expel the aliens, who continued to grow and hatch. In her last moments, deliriously, she tried to count how many bodies she felt inside her. She lost count.

She was the first. But not the last.

Would you make a pregnant sub suffer more, in a non sexual way?

I'm a sucker for discomforts...and would love to be miserably pregnant.

You could make a new punishment/rule for me each month, so each month I feel the effects of my pregnancy more and more.

Knowing that I could be a lot more comfortable...but Instead I'm suffering more 24/7 because of your need to see me struggling.

of course <3 i'd make your pregnancy a truly unpleasant experience, all for my entertainment.

i'd treat you like you're not pregnant and make you work. i'd take you with me to go on runs, ignoring your huffing and puffing and groaning as you struggle to keep up. i'd make you carry things for me, and run all of my errands. i'd make you clean the house, even with your massive belly in the way. i'd make you pick things up off of the floor for me when i drop them. all of this on top of your regular job, of course. i wouldn't let you take maternity leave.

i'd refuse to entertain your pregnancy symptoms. i'd make you eat whatever i serve you, even if it disgusts you or upsets your morning sickness. i'd deny your cravings. i'd mock you for your mood swings and invalidate your emotions, telling you to shut up and stop crying. i'd tell you to stop complaining when the braxton hicks contractions hit.

and that's only the beginning - we'll see if i get bored of that and want to step it up a notch <3

The desperation when they're stuck at full crown and the head won't move. Crying and wailing and begging. Pushing uselessly even when they're not contracting. Desperate to escape the horrible burning stretch. It's right there, holding them brutally open. It's going to take a couple good strong pushes to come all the way out but their strength is already failing and they can't think through the mind numbing pressure and pain. So they writhe and scream, wasting energy they can't afford to lose.

Hey guys! This is a little collab I did with @let-me-fill-you, they've sent me many wonderful prompts in the past and I liked one so much I asked them to expand one so I could draw something for it!

Although it is a fine summer's day, you are cold, beneath the earth. For several minutes, you have followed the abbot into the bowels of the monastery, far deeper than you believed, deeper even than the catacombs. Thankfully, it hasn't been a single spiralling staircase all the way down, or else your head might've twisted off from sheer dizziness. But there is a growing pit of unease in your stomach. Where is the abbot leading you? And why now, immediately after you took your vows? Every time you think to ask, the words catch in your throat or the abbot speaks first, "This way." You are grateful for his guidance, at least. It's a maze down here - and the architecture has taken a turn for the unfamiliar, making the darkness all the more unnerving. Could it be that the monastery was built atop an older structure? The order is old, dating back centuries. You haven't the slightest notion of what might've come before. But you have a growing suspicion you're about to find out.

Soon, you see light ahead, stronger than the lantern borne by the abbot. You see a barred door, flanked by two members of your order... but they're not dressed in the monastic habit. Instead, they are clad in fine armor, made of what appears to be... silver? It gleams in the fire-light, lustrous and covered in filigree. No, not filigree, you realize as you draw closer. Runes. Protective spells. Your eyes drift from one's cuirass to his belt, and what you see isn't a cudgel - as expected of simple monks - but a blade, slender and deadly. Your blood chills, on the verge of becoming ice. You look to the abbot in trepidation.

The abbot's expression is grave. "Now that you are one of us, bound by oath, it is time you learned the truth of our order - our shame, and our obligation." He beckons you closer to the door - a great, heavy door, barred not once but twice. You hesitate to move from your spot, but the abbot is patient (and insistent). As you step forth, you console yourself with the knowledge that a door like this is not easily opened, and you are not alone. You should be safe. Should be...

Once you're close enough, the abbot slides open a slot for you to peer through, into darkness - but you hear it before you see it, whatever it is. You hear... moaning? It's dull and low, but clearly in pain. It's enough to raise your hairs; you feel the urge to pull away before something lunges out of the darkness, but you also feel the abbot's gaze boring into your skull, locking you in place. So you continue to stare into the darkness, until your eyes adjust.

And what you see is... a boy? Pale and thin as bone, his face veiled by a head of unkempt hair. You cannot tell if he's conscious, but his lips are open, from which the moaning emanates. He is chained to a rock, jutting out of the ground like a crooked tooth, kept halfway between standing and laying. His wrists, locked tightly within manacles bolted into the stone itself, are starkly red and raw from chafing. You imagine his ankles are similarly bound, but you cannot see them because, well... his stomach is in the way. You cannot believe your eyes. This isn't a gut swollen in hunger, but a sack of flesh, bloated like a fat mosquito, hanging from his skeletal frame all the way down to the rough stone floor, obscuring the entire lower half of his body. His belly, though it feels inappropriate to call it that (it doesn't look like an extension of himself, more like he is attached to it) is huge and ugly - shaped like a droplet from some great weight inside it, and wider than his shoulders, stretched perilously thin and marred with unflattering stretch marks and spider veins. Chains crisscross the gravid expanse, again not made of iron but hallowed silver - and wherever these hold tight, there seem to be burn marks.

Your stomach curdles. What could possibly necessitate this barbaric treatment? Then, as if in direct response to your thought, you see it - something huge and powerful, squirming and shifting within the boy's belly, pushing this way and that, recoiling from the silver, protruding in between the gaps. This isn't a silent affair - you hear the boy's skin creaking as it is stretched to its utmost, you hear sloshing (of amniotic fluid?), you hear sizzling as the tortured skin makes contact with the silver, and worst of all you hear a muffled growling of something vicious and hateful, and you hear the boy's moaning increase...

But it's cut off by the rasp of metal, as the slot is shut in front of your face, startling you. Refocusing on the abbot, you blink a few times, readjusting to the lantern light on this side of the door.

The abbot's expression has not changed, but did he always look so tired? Perhaps it is you who has changed, from the person you were just a minute ago, before you saw that. You look deep into his eyes for answers, a justification of any kind.

He tells you, with solemn cadence, "You must bury whatever sympathy you have for that boy. He contains Armageddon - a monster so terrible that, had it been allowed to enter our world, would have doomed us all. It is trapped in there, but we must remain vigilant. So long as he carries that monster, it will not allow him to age. And he must not die, or else that thing will be free to find another host, another womb to bear it. It may seem cruel to keep him like this, but remember your vows. You have a duty to your brothers and sisters, and the world beyond these walls. You must close your heart to his suffering. In the days to come - not today, or tomorrow, but soon - you'll be expected to feed him, to give him water. It's a heavy burden we share between us, so the onus does not break any one of us. And when that time comes, he will speak to you. He will cry, he will beg, he will howl and scream for the slightest of accommodations, a loosening of his shackles, anything to alleviate his pain, and you will know in your heart that his pleas are genuine. You must not listen to him. The devil does not speak through him - it has nothing to say to us - but it will use our better angels against us." The abbot places a heavy hand on your shoulder. "No one is deserving of that boy's fate. But he must suffer it all the same."

After that, the abbot leads you back to the surface, back into the warm light of day. But you remain cold.

Easily 2 of my favorite animations , go check out the artists

you’ve been fucking me for so long by now that ive lost track of the time. I know it’s dark outside now, but that’s all ive got. that, and the growing number of rapidly gestating babies inside me.

“fuck, so good for me… such a good incubator, taking my babies so well… god, fuck, im gonna cum again, gonna knock you up again…”

I groan as you do just that, eyes rolling back in my head as I feel you spill inside me, your seed seeping into my womb and quickly finding another egg to fertilize. the babies already inside me squirm as another sibling joins them, growing to catch up, forcing them to make space.

my body rises as my belly grows beneath me. you had to move me off the bed a while ago to be able to reach my cunt comfortably, and my legs have long been left hanging in the air, supported by the curve of my lower belly. im starting to wonder if you’ll be unable to reach before you can sate your need.

im starting to wonder if you even can sate either of our needs before I get too big for it.

student who goes into labor during class and manages to hide the pain all the way until they get home and finally ripping their clothes off, collapsing onto the bed, and screaming as the baby crowns

*knocks you up in a horrorpreg way*