Imagine A Maid Has Been Getting Used By The Son Of The Mansion Owners. When Her Belly Begins To Grow

I don't write much original work yet, but I have lots of plans

Please reblog if you’re still an active birth kink/fetish blog, wanting to follow more.

Dunk Tank

Pre-story notes:

I am still writing The Way Home, but a combination of writer's block on that story, plus a bit of pure Muse being injected into this one, I'll resume TWH next upload. That said...

This one is a little dark, with some intentional torment of the main character. Everything works out for her in the end, but it gets a bit dicey for a hot minute.

Also Katrina is 18! She is almost 19 years old in this story, but in order for the dynamics of this story to work, she is a young mother, still in high school, still living with her parents. If this isn't your cup of tea, please leave. Otherwise, enjoy!

Katrina scowled as she waddled through the church grounds. On the list of things she'd rather be doing included being hit with a car. Walking on hot coals. Eating gas-station sushi again. But no. Her mom had oh-so GRACIOUSLY volunteered her time to this church fundraiser. At 9 months pregnant, she'd rather be at home, resting, finish packing her hospital bag, trying to deal with these annoying as hell Braxton Hicks contractions…

Another one started wrapping around her belly as the thought came to her, and she rubbed at it as she approached the pastor, a man named Father Isaac, to find out what she was in for.

"Katrina! How are you… ah, WE, doing today?" Katrina did her best to internalize the eye roll. The politeness to her face was all too sickening. She had heard what he really thought of her. 'Teen mom. Her life is ruined. She'll have a hard time finding a husband with a kid on her hip.' "I'm doing fine," She replied, taking her hand off her belly, and placing it on her back, "Mom didn't say what I was in for today, so…" Katrina flapped her free arm in a sort of, 'So tell me what the fuck I'm doing here' gesture. Either Isaac was oblivious, or had a better poker face than she did, because he didn't so much as bat an eye. "Ah, well, my son said he'd set you up with a booth. And he did say that he found one where you won't have to be on your feet all day. Y'know. Cause your pregnant." Katrina smiled thinly, "Ah. I've noticed. Where is Adam?" Father Isaac smiled and pointed, "On the other side of the food tent by the games. He's got you running one of them." Katrina sighed and waddled off. Or started to. "It's real nice that you volunteered for this Katrina. It's so nice to see someone like you so invested in the church." She decided that that particular comment deserved a bit of venom in the reply. "Oh yeah. I mean, getting voluntold to do this or I get kicked out of my home. But I mean, it's not like my life isn't going to be hard enough as it is." With that, Katrina left, walking towards the games. As it was, she was sure her mom would be pissed about what she said to Father Isaac, but something about the man could get under her skin like a splinter. Not that the next person she was going to talk to was any better. Adam was her personal tormentor. She'd never liked him, nor he her, but he had gotten worse once the news that she was pregnant had flown around the school. Not that she could prove any of it, but the handwriting on the notes in her locker looked like his. That and the way that he and his buddies found it the peak of all comedy to swerve in the truck that Adam drove, and spray cold, filthy water on her whenever they passed her while she walked home. Of course, as a pastor's son, of course it wasn't him. The teachers all agreed that someone who was the son of such a community leader couldn't possibly be acting in such a way. So she'd gotten detentions and the like for her 'wild and baseless accusations' and life went on.

"Hi there Kate" Adam said as Katrina waddled up to him, one hand going to rub the mild cramp running along the front of her belly. "It's Katrina," Katrina corrected him, rolling her eyes, and brushing some of her hair out of her face. "Right, so Kate," Adam said, making Katrina grind her teeth, "So, you need a job where you don't need to stand, or be in the sun all day…" Katrina blinked. She had honestly expected that he would give her a job where he and his friends could leer over her swollen form all day, and mock her while sitting down, and drinking cold drinks while she stood and sweat until everyone left. "Oh. Uh, thank you." Adam's smile made the sudden flutter of hope that the day wouldn't be terrible vanish, "Oh, don't worry, you get to sit all day, well, most of the day, and it'll be nice and cool." Adam put a hand around Katrina's shoulders and led her around the back of the food tent. Under a large tree, basically hidden in a nook behind a bush and a sign for the day's activities, was a large transparent blue bucket, filled 6 feet deep with water, the top surrounded by a cage, and next to it, a big yellow board with a red and white bull's eye painted in the middle. A dunk tank. "You can't be serious." Adam smiled, "Well, your mom called an asked if there was something you could do for us at the fair today. This is all I can offer you…"

He said the last with a sort of sad mocking tone. Katrina glowered at him, and gestured at her belly. "I'm not getting into that thing while I'm 9 months pregnant!" "Well," Adam scratched at his chin. A gesture he'd picked up from his father, but Father Isaac had a beard to make the gesture worthwhile, Adam just looked like an asshole. "Well, I could let you loose then, but then I'd have to call your mother and tell her that you refused to help with the one thing we asked you to do today. By the way, what is rent like say… anywhere near where you know anyone?" Katrina's jaw dropped, her eyes pricking with tears, "That's… that's not fair." Adam smiled again, "It is A fair, and this is your job. So… step on in, or walk on out." Katrina took two steps away, before thinking it over. She could leave, and live in a box until she gave birth, finished school and got out of this town. Or she could get dunked a few times, and stay with her parents until then. Sighing, she turned around and walked back to the tank. "How does it work?"

Adam was all too helpful with getting Katrina up the ladder and onto the seat. The foam pad, which was probably once comfortable to sit on, was now so worn down, it might as well have been one of the pews from inside the church. She sat on it, the platform creaking slightly under her weight. She shifted uncomfortably, and snapped her head around when she heard a click. She saw Adam fixing a padlock to the gate, closing her off from the ladder and the way out of this. "Adam, what are-" "Just a precaution," Adam said, "Clearly you can't be trusted to not run off before the day's over, so I thought I'd make sure you're safely up there until your shift is done." With that, Adam left, stepping quickly away, back to the rest of the fair grounds. Katrina sighed again and idly kicked her now bare feet in the water, flinching at how cold it was. "Kinda wish it WAS in the sun," Katrina muttered, wincing again, but now at the slight twinge in her belly. It didn't take long for the fair to start. Katrina could hear church-goers and other people having a grand old time, winning cheap prizes at rigged games, the occasional shout of bingo from the far end of the food tent, and the warm-up of what counted for 'live entertainment' in the small town, a handful of young men playing country songs way too loudly for such a small event. As she began to rub at her belly again, she heard laughing getting closer, and looked up to see Adam leading the first customers over. Katrina smiled and waved at them, younger kids who threw, but none of them managed a hit. The line was never longer than 2 or 3 people, and there was never more than 10 minutes between customers.

As the day, and her Braxton Hicks contractions dragged on, Katrina began to feel a growing pressure. At first, she thought it was just that she had to pee, but it felt different. The feeling was further back in her pelvis, and bigger. Much bigger. As the live music blared, she gasped, rubbing at the underside of her belly and shifted her hips from side to side, trying to relieve the pressure. And there was so…much…pressure. It felt like a basketball was being inflated in her hips, and the sensation was perhaps the most awful feeling she'd ever experienced. She just wanted to squirm away from it. At her home, in her room, she'd bought an exercise ball, and lately, that was the only thing she could comfortably sit on. The nearly unyielding surface of the dunk-tank seat was nowhere near that level of comfort. Should couldn't rock back and forth, she couldn't move her hips side to side, she couldn't even lightly bounce to relieve this horribly pressure. She had taken to simply breathing deeply and rubbing her belly with her eyes closed when a loud laugh made her look up. Adam was standing, leaning against the tree, and chatting with his usual group of school friends. "What a fucking spectacle," One of them, Bryce, said. "Nah, she'd used to people looking at her," Adam said, "It's how she wound up like she is." "Fun," A third boy, Roger, said. Roger was bit for his age, standing a good 6 inches taller than the rest, and he wasn't gangly either. He smirked a bit and grabbed a baseball for the game and tossed it in the air. Adam mock bowed and stepped aside. "Go ahead, friends don't pay." Katrina had just enough time to feel nervous when Roger grunted and said "Fun" again, before hurling the ball so fast his arm vanished from view.

With a muffled CLANG, the seat underneath Katrina dropped, dunking her into the water. She thrashed in the water, having been dunked in so fast, she didn't even have time to take in a breath. Once she figured out with way was up, she burst from the surface, coughing and gagging, and beginning to shiver from how cold the water was. She pushed the seat back into it's up position and struggled to climb out, the weight of her belly and wet clothes making the climb almost impossible. She sprawled on the small platform, moaning and holding her belly, another Braxton hicks contraction feeling like it was twisting her like a wet towel being wrung to dry. There was so much water in her ears, she almost didn't hear the next muffled CLANG as the seat dumped her into the water again. She fell sideways into the water, the impact driving what little air she had managed to get into her lungs. The sudden, second shock of cold kickstarted another contraction, making her ball up underwater, until her desperation for air made her painfully straighten up and burst through the surface. She gasped and coughed more, and, once the seat was back up, she simply hung from it, not wasting the energy it took to climb back up. "No, you gotta go back on the platform," Adam taunted, "That's how the game works."

As she struggled to pull herself up, and lay gasping once more on the platform, she felt something odd. The cold wet feeling had changed slightly. Between her legs, it was a warm wet feeling. Great, she had peed herself. As another Braxton Hicks contraction made her curl up slightly, she realized two things. Firstly, that wasn't pee. Secondly, these weren't Braxton hicks. "Oh no, I need to-" Katrina was cut off as Adam's throw slammed home, sending her down into the water again. Something about the sudden shock of cold right after realizing that she was indeed in labor made her body go berserk. She twisted and writhed as the strongest Braxt-no, full on contraction felt like it was trying to both rip her belly off and crush it against her spine at the same time. She finally broke free from the water yet again, cough and gagging at the water she had inadvertently inhaled and swallowed. She pounded on the plastic side of the tank to scream at Adam to let her go, but he was turned away, laughing with his friends. She turned to try to climb up the platform without resetting it. Katrina knew that if she put it up and climbed back up, one of Adam's cronies or he himself would simply send her back into the water. She struggled and failed to make the climb without the ledge being set up, so she begrudgingly set the platform up and climbed up to yell over the top of the tank setup. Pulling herself up was more difficult with all the pressure and the borderline NEED to simply curl up.

She finally managed it by clenching her abdominal muscles as hard as she could to make the pull, but as she did, she felt something slip. The pressure shifted slightly down, and now it was so. Much. WORSE. She tried to call out to Adam, to beg to be let out, but as soon as she straightened up to say something, the CLANG went off again, and she was once again, sent into the water. She was standing this time, and on the way down, her hip hit the platform hard. She gasped reflexively, and began thrashing as she realized she had just inhaled a mouthful of water. When she finally got free and had managed to stop coughing, the realization of the shift in pressure made her go cold. She must have been in labor all day, because now, she could only make out one thing. She had only one goal in her mind, one desire, one instruction every cell in her body was screaming, was begging her to obey.

Push

"ADAM," Katrina shouted, her voice hoarse and weak from the multiple rounds of water going down the wrong way, "LET ME OUT!" She didn't know if anyone could hear her, and she was about to call again when she heard Adam call back. "Now now Katrina, you're supposed to do a whole shift." "I'm in labor, I have to puuuuush!" The last word strangled out and was pulled longer by the onset of another contraction as she bent over as far as she could while still standing in the water, pushing. "Nice try," One of the other friends, a shorter guy named… she actually didn't know his real name, but she knew everyone called him Plink, said, "But no way you're that far, even if you are in labor. I bet you just want to get ouuuuuuuuut." Plink drew out the last word, mocking the way Katrina had drawn her last word out.

Katrina didn't even have the energy to respond as she bore down. She wasn't sure if she was doing it right. From all of her reading online, pushing was supposed to relieve the pressure that had been building. Her attempts at pushing only made the pressure worse. Now she could barely stand, even with the water helping to support her weight. Her legs were bowed out, and it felt like the basketball had been replaced with a bowling ball. She just wanted to either sit or lay down, to take the burden off of her hips, but the water was too deep for that. She racked the platform back up, and tried to climb back up. The effort was too much. Her arms shook, and her lower half dangled uselessly as she tried. Once she got her belly above the surface of the water, her back cried out in protest, locking up in another brutal contraction, making her stop to push. It was too much. Too fast, too much pressure, too many people watching and jeering and mocking. Closing her eyes, she somehow found the strength to pull herself back onto the platform and she laid back, reveling in the feeling of no longer standing, even though the pressure seemed to worsen being on her back. She moaned through another contraction, and heard a shout from the boys. "Stop faking it," One of them, she didn't know who, shouted, and she heard the CLANG again, and went back in.

Katrina had managed to not swallow any water this time, but only because she had held her breath while pushing. When she opened her eyes under the water, she could see the boys still laughing, and could faintly hear them howling like hyenas. The bowling ball of pain and pressure seemed like it was moving slower than a snail, but it was moving. She came up again and angrily shoved the platform back up. For some reason, standing and pushing wasn't working, but it had felt slightly better for the few seconds she had been able to lie down. She climbed back up and called out to her tormentors. "Please, please give me a minute, I'm-" Her words were cut off by the next dunk. Despite the water, she landed quite hard, the knee under the hip she had bruised on the platform earlier giving out, sending her down into a sort of half crouch. She shuddered and writhed from the new feeling of the head rocketing down, the pressure both feeling better and worse at the same time. She tried to get back up, but could barely close her legs enough to get upright. Gritting her teeth, she managed it, but the mind numbing wrongness of the motion sent lances of pain into her hips and cervix. She shuddered again and desperately shoved the platform back up, hoping to send it home hard enough to jam it, and tried to climb back on. Halfway up the climb, she paused for another contraction.

"GAH! Nggghhhhhh!" She groaned her way through it, the grunting turning into a yelp as the platform dumped her into the water with another CLANG before she had even made it out of the water. Still being halfway up the mechanism, she held on as best as she could, but only managed to be swung with it before the sudden stop at the end of it's motion slammed her free, her legs impacting the back wall. THAT motion sent things into overdrive. The pressure in her hips surged like nothing Katrina had ever felt before. The sudden urge to lean into the pressure and push with everything she had was stronger than the urge to breathe. She curled up as she sank beneath the surface of the frigid water and pushed as hard as she could while sinking. It was like she was possessed. The desperate, maniacal, unyielding demand of her body overrode every other instinct she had.

Don't worry about getting out, push. Don't worry about the boys, push. Don't worry about the cold, Push. Don't worry about a hospital, Push! Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, Push, Push, PUSH!

Bubbles ran up her face as she groaned through gritted teeth. The pressure had now given way to a burning, ripping pain in between her legs, the ring of fire. She reached down to feel, and her eyes snapped open in panic, her blood running colder than the water. Her shorts were still on. Her lungs burning from the lack of air, she paddle furiously for the water, gasping and coughing as she breeched the surface.

"I-My pants!" She gasped and called out, "It's coming outtt!" She held onto the platform with one hand and fought desperately to close her legs enough to strip off the tight jean shorts she had made the mistake of wearing on today of all days. The last few days, the counter pressure they had applied to her hips had been one of the few reliefs she could find outside of lying in a bath, but now, the overly tight fabric that hugged her hips and ass, the sensation even worse now for being soaked, seemed to actively fight her efforts in taking them off. As she fought, the fire from the attempted crowning in her pants receded as the wet denim undid all of her effort in the mammoth push she had done under the water. Even though that contraction had ended, the frenzied desperation of the urge hadn't.

She began to hyperventilate as she fumbled at the button and zipper of her shorts, her fingers numb with cold and fear. Unable to figure it out, she choked back a frustrated sob and began to pull herself, once again, onto the platform. Fortunately, it stayed up while she tried to rip her shorts down, the effort a difficult task even when she wasn't under such strain. As she wrestled with the clothing, she noticed the boys all standing and staring. "Help me!" Katrina called, her voice still not carrying far, both due to the water she had accidentally inhaled, and the live music from the other side of the fairgrounds. "Sure," Adam said, "I'll give you a minute. See, the boys and I have had a bet going for the last few weeks on who the baby daddy is. And seeing as you probably won't tell us, we're just gonna watch and see if we're right. Y'know, see who it looks like. I have 20 bucks on Jackson."

The others began listing their bets while Katrina listened in horror. Not only did they now know that she was in labor, but they were betting on the father? Which meant that they had no intention of helping her or setting her free. Her fear gave her enough willpower to stop fumbling with her shorts and try to go to the door, rattling it as she remembered, belatedly, that it was locked. "HEY!" Adam called, "Your shift isn't done yet!" CLANG The platform tipped, and Katrina cried out as the floor rotated away from the door, dropping Katrina, HARD, onto her belly as it dumped her into the water once again. The impact drove another contraction with the same desperation as the last one. Unfortunately, Katrina had to make a choice. Give into the furious demands and sensations, or straighten up to breathe.

The impact to her belly had also driven every molecule of air from her lungs, and the urge to inhale was as powerful as the urge to push. She straightened up, the motion feeling like nails were being driven into her spine as she did, and choked in a gasp, the sound somewhere between a gulp and a sob. She took another deep breath and bent over, working like a maniac to remove her shorts. With a desperate shove, they gave slightly, and her body noticed. Her legs began to spread as the baby's head began to descend rapidly once again. She fought to keep her mouth closed against the water and the scream as the ring of fire returned with a vengeance, her body thrashing at the pain of it. Spreading her legs under the pressure had an unfortunate side effect, as the material stretched back tightly over her crotch, pushing against the head.

She bucked her hips, going sideways under the water at how WRONG it felt, her body revolting at the backwards sensation. It knew that the baby was supposed to go out, not back in. Katrina tried to push her shorts down, but they were jammed by her spread open legs. She tried to close her legs enough to remove her shorts, but the head was preventing any such attempt. With some trepidation, she gingerly placed a hand between her legs, and attempted to make it so she could close them. She. Pushed. It. BACK The sensation was by far, the worst thing she had every felt in her life, her body lighting up with a billion messages, each one some variation of the word "STOP!"

Shaking, she managed to remove her hand and, mercifully, or not, close her legs. She righted herself and pushed off of the ground, gasping for air, and reached down to remove the shorts. With how wet they were, the sensation of denim sliding across her hips felt as if the fabric was made of fire, but eventually, she managed to get them to her knees, and then off entirely. Refusing to fight her body on it anymore, she took one more breath while standing up, and squatted down, giving into the bone deep demands of her body. She pushed. She PUSHED.

The head descended so fast the she had to clap a hand on her bulging pussy to keep it from burning too much or tearing. she shuddered a bit at the resistance, but at least it wasn't pushing the head back again. She shook as she eased the head out. Keeping her legs wide, she paddled once again for the surface, the effort becoming more and more draining with each time she made her way up. "I.. help meeeee" She begged, gasping in a breath and sinking below again. She bore down again as she sunk, but something felt wrong. A sharp pain in her pelvis, this time between her hips had digging in like a splinter, then like a knife. She pushed experimentally at the pain, but it exploded. She belted out a short scream under the water, and clamped a hand over her mouth instantly to keep her from drowning. Katrina attempted another, more timid push, but felt the same pain, the same resistance. She didn't know what was wrong, but her body seemed to. Despite the stabbing pain, at the next contraction, which was coming so close on the end of the last one that there was hardly a break between them, she lost control as her body began to push, hard at the stubborn blockage.

The pain in her pelvis grew worse and worse until she had to release one of her knees, barely aware that she had grabbed them in the first place, and pressed with a desperate force against the pain, just below the swell of her rock hard belly. The pressed harder and harder against it as she pushed, and with a grating, sliding sensation, the pain receded into her, and she writhed as the baby began to slide out. She lunged, trying to find her baby through the cloud of blood and lord knows what else to find it. Finding a squirming thing, she pulled it gently towards herself and stood up, clutching it close to her chest. Breaking free for what she knew later to be the last time, she blinked tears and water out of her face and looked, shivering at the small human in her arms. A girl! She'd had a girl! A girl who was very cold, and very still. Katrina cried out and began rubbing her daughter until she was rewarded by a weak, but clear cry. She sobbed in relief and held her child close, faintly aware of the second most beautiful sound she'd heard that day, or even in the last few seconds. The metal door to the top of the dunk tank opened and she heard the platform get locked back into place. "Katrina! Are you alright?" She looked up to see Father Isaac jumped down into the water beside her. She shook her head, holding her baby close, "N-n-n-no. Adam…"

She told Father Isaac what his son had done. Fortunately, he believed her, as he had caught the end of what had happened. Katrina looked past the paster to see all of the boys looking very ashamed. Father Isaac refused to press charges against his own son. When Katrina tried to, her mother nearly struck her for daring to try to "bring the law of man against a man of god!" In the end, Katrina went to Father Isaac and struck a deal with him. Katrina couldn't get child support from daughter's father, but she could from the person who had nearly killed her and Katrina both. One month later, after graduation, from which Adam and his friends were suspiciously absent, (Katrina had said a few things to a few people, and once a video had gotten out, they had been suspended pending investigation,) Katrina packed her things, and got the hell out of the crappy town and it's people who now judged her for not only having a child out of wedlock at her age, but also getting money from the church to support it. She didn't know if she ever wanted another baby, but she knew damn well that she didn't want another waterbirth.

I’m in love with transfems

transfems who knock you up transfems who hold you down and take you transfems who beg to please be allowed to cum inside you transfems who are ruthless and powerful transfems who are sweet and gentle transfems who get knocked up transfems who beg to be bred transfems who order you to fuck them transfems who cry pretty transfems who handle pain well transfems who want you to hold their hand

Introducing a new OC for DMs and Asks:

Bramble is a young hobbit woman with wild curly chestnut hair full of daisy chains and twigs. She has warm brown eyes and dimples. She’s covered in freckles and has a natural rosy blush. She has a pointy upturned button nose and round little reddish pink lips. Her face is mostly round with a fast-tapered chin. She’s dainty and plump with a curvy hourglass figure. 2’2”

She wears cute brown and yellow cottage-core clothes and usually shaves the hair from her feet and legs, but the soft stubble creeps back up on her sometimes, and she tends to embrace it in the chilly winter. And she’s a Druid Bard multiclass aged 30 years.

Where do I sign up?

tv show where people give birth competitively and try to have the longest, most painful birth possible live on television for everyone to see. the last person to tap out wins a million dollars. there are dozens of contestants, and usually people are only accepted onto the show if they're pregnant with more than 3 or 4 babies or if their babies have something about them that make the birth process more difficult (big, nonhuman, wrong position, etc) so it's already more difficult than just competing against the average person. every participant is constantly made fully aware that they're live on television, being followed around by a crew and always being told to spread their legs so that a crew member can point a big camera directly at their aching stretched cunt for the whole world to see <3

Who doesn't?

Reblog this if you enjoy dirty private messaging with other kinky people!

“Oh, Bunny, you look so very pretty for Daddy. Come hop up on my lap” I rub my hands firmly over your back, belly, and thighs. “You’re such a good boy, little Bunny. Doing such a good job holding in all our dozen squirming little babies. If I’m feeling very very kind tomorrow I’ll even let you push one out!”

Wanna wear my prettiest set of lingerie for you while I'm deeply in labor 🩷

Little lacy panties you can barely even see with my heavy belly dropped, baby buns inside low and ready to be born already. And a little bralette, mostly sheer and too small for my once flat chest that's now swollen with milk; the thin fabric tortureously rubbing over my sensitive nipples, hard and leaky.

My body's screaming at me to give in, to just bear down and push out your babies ... But I know how much you desire me like that. Plump and ripe, so full of you I can barely even think anymore. And I want to be pretty for you so bad.

So don't worry, Daddy, I'll try to hold back a little longer, hnnngh ...

I’d love to rub her clit and nibble on her outie as I hold that tight crown in place for her as long as I can. I’d dip a finger in behind the head, too, and massage her perineum, starting slow, but picking up speed as my finger gains lubrication. My other hand would continue rubbing her clit with my thumb while the side of my hand rubs the crease between her belly and crotch and presses against the red-hot skin above her vulva.

tied up and plugged birth denial

in the mood to be tied up while super overdue with your baby, with my legs spread as far as they’ll go and my crotch bound with ropes, a large knot inserted and tied tight, plugging my soaked and laboring cunt. after hours of you pounding and teasing me in this position, my water breaks. the contractions begin to intensify, the child moving down by sheer force of my uterine muscles clenching and urging the head through my cervix, filling my canal. but with a pathetic whine i remember the knot and ropes are blocking my tight exit, stalling any further progress. the head is pressed fully against the knot plugging my opening, and no matter how hard i push now, nothing with budge as long as the ropes are intact. lustful tears fill my eyes as i finally get to experience what i’ve wanted to for so many years: pushing HARD against a very large, very stuck baby. the futility and pressure and intensity are enough to immediately drive me to orgasm, my squirt soaking through the ropes binding my cunt. i’ve never felt so stretched and open, my pelvis so fully stuffed it’s dizzying and overwhelming, yet so addictive and electric, i could feel the massive skull trying to slowly yet violently cram its way through my pelvis. i just want this moment to last forever, and it honestly could, lest i give you the safe word so i can finally drop my load. but i’m not quite ready for that yet, wanting to relish this feeling and cum a few more times around the head still so tightly encased within my pulsing walls.

(partner POV)

i’ve been watching you in awe for hours, marveling at the perfection of your birthing form, all spread out and tied up for my personal enjoyment. at this point you’ve squirted so much all the ropes binding you are soaked and cold, giving you goosebumps and making you tingle all over as you linger in a moment of orgasmic bliss. because the storm is coming. something that can’t be contained forever, a storm called birth. your moans and shrieks begin to change tones, your pleasure turning to overwhelming agony and the need to expel your child NOW or you would die or break in half trying. your contractions are nearly constant now, and you start to push again with a new sense of urgency. your screams catching your throat as you begin to go red in the face, holding your you push for all youre worth your burden against the knot, the head that is attempting to emerge pressing the knot further and further out of you, the plug slowly spreading you. i could see the massive knot i had plugged you up with earlier bulge and begin to crown, the force of your primal pushes of desperation causing your rotund stomach to contract so strongly its shape became more pointed, your contracting muscles going into overdrive at this pivotal moment of imminent crowning. in this moment, you, my lover, reduced to a twitching, animalistic ball of tension and pain, the travail is so clear in the furrowed browson your face, which has somehow has never looked more beautiful to me. you, despite all the agony and restraint, are still enjoying this on some level. you still haven’t said the safe word after all, which would mean you surrendering from the constricting torture of your ropes so you could finally drop your heavy load of overdue child. you look me in the eyes and we share a deep breath before you bear down once more, and with a small muffled pop and a moan of a sigh of relief, the knot plug rushes from your cunt, bulging against the ropes that still bound your legs and crotch.

between labored pants you say to me, somehow sounding so sexy through it all, “babe, the head is about to crown but has nowhere to go. could you help me out, my sunflower?” at the mention of the safe word, i immediately spring into action to untie the ropes binding your bulging cunt. i decide to hell with untying anything carefully, using the scissors from the birthing kit we already had nearby to cut a big enough opening to allow the head to pass. as i move to help you get in a good position for crowning, you start panting with and intensity like never before, sounding almost like your building up to a powerful orgasm, your entire being seeming to contract all around the child within you. you huff and puff it looks as though you may pass out from the strain of it all. then, in the blink of an eye, you could not longer resist the urge to push without any restraints, feeling like the pressure and fullness could literally drown you if you didn’t fight through it. at last, i see as you finally surrender to letting this birth happen, your body going slack before curling up around your swollen womb, pressing it down hard in a instinctive kind of fundal pressure as you feel your opening begin to burn, burn, BURN.

(first person pov)

at this point i’m seeing red, my entire being consumed by the ring of fire i finally came to know. oh, how i relished the ripping burn, feeling the crown so heavily tugging against my rim, threatening to snap it at any moment. it felt like i was slowly tearing in at least 3 areas, and i was almost tempted to reach down and slide a finger in alongside the crown to rip my own ruined perenium down the middle, tearing my two holes into one bloody gaping mess that could finally release my enormous child. but no, it was not to be. i needed to take this slow, as i resume my frantic panting, resisting everything in me that was telling me to just push so hard i rip myself in half and get the whole ordeal over with. but i was stubborn, instead adjusting to the burning crown and letting it slowly stretch me beyond my wildest imagination, trying my best to relax and open up as much as i possibly could. i wanted to feel it all, every detail of the skull and face as it emerged from me painstakingly slowly, which is exactly what i got. once i was getting dangerously close to a full crown, i beg you to apply some counterpressure, wanting to be held open at the absolute widest point on the head for as long as i could possibly bear.

I'm not sure I would let you give birth, or at least not very easily.

I'd hold you from behind, helping you breathe through the contractions and hold off pushing for as long as possible. When you couldn't hold back any longer, I'd press my hand against the crowning head, slowing it's advance when you push and helping it slip back inside you between contractions.

While you're slowly stretching yourself out around the head, I'd edge your clit and encourage you to push just a little more for me. Only once the head was fully crowned would I let you feel that overwhelming, burning stretch for just a moment before bringing you over the edge to orgasm.

It wouldn't matter how hard you push as I hold the crowning head firmly in place while you cum. I'd whisper in your ear how you'd done such a good job stretching and cumming for me while I hold the head back and you push as you cum.

Once the contraction was over, I'd let you feel the head stretch you for a little longer before gently, ever so gently, easing the head all the way back inside. I'd feel you relax in my arms as we'd both just enjoy the moment together before you have to push again.

We can, of course, make things a little harder for you next time. There's a pair of tight leather shorts that I think would do a wonderful job of making pushing harder, or you could (try) to give birth into a pair of leggings, or a one-piece swimsuit, or even just a pair of panties.

The possibilities are endless, and we're just getting started.

I’d do everything I possibly could to stall labor for as long as possible. I’d keep my legs pressed together, a pillow under my hips to make the baby have to fight gravity, everything I could to make it all take so long, so I could feel my body slowly opening up. I’d relish each and every moment as the baby slides through my well dilated cervix, my own refusal to push dragging the process out as my body works to birth on its own while I writhe in your arms.

I’d squeal and cry out when you start to work against the progress my body makes, pressing back against the bulging head until it’s not bulging anymore. I’d tell you how full it makes me feel, how big it is, how it’s filling up my whole pelvis, how I have to push, but I don’t want to be empty, not yet. Please. 

I’d no doubt ruin my own progress countless times as you edge me, my hips squirming and head thrown back as I alternate between pushing and trying to chase my orgasm, overwhelmed with sensation. 

When I cum, I don’t even know if my scream is one of pleasure, or fear that the head will rush out of me and it’ll all be over. I’d cum again, my lips fluttering around the huge crowning skull, when I realize you’re not going to let that happen, you’re no more done than I am. 

There would no doubt be screaming when you push the head all the way back inside, but by the time your hand can lay flat where moments ago was a full crown I’d be deliriously thanking you, trembling all over, nestling myself deep in your arms and shuddering. 

I’m nowhere near ready for this to be over, and it's a wonderful relief to know you aren’t either.