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Baby weight

I guess I forgot to post it anywhere else… Here’s a pic c0m’d by @NotNamed147 of their very fresh OC Maria! She’s really struggling with that baby weight…

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Hush's Mayternity Announcement #2: A Commission Raffle!

Prizes: -GRAND PRIZE: A 1,000-word commission of your choice (1 winner) -RUNNER UP: A 500-word commission of your choice (1 winner)

When to enter: Between now and May 31, 2025 (until 23:59 CET)

How to enter: Reblog this post (likes are welcome, but don't count) to receive an entry. Only one entry per blog will be counted. However, 🌟all Patreons on a paid membership tier 🌟 who reblog will earn an extra entry (for a total of 2)!

The winner will be chosen on June 1, 2025, via a Spin the Wheel generator. Then I'll message the winner, who will have 1 week to get back to me. If I don't get a reply, the wheel will be spun again! The finished commission should be completed within approximately 2 weeks.

Rules: -You must be 18+ to participate -Your age must be listed in your bio or on a pinned post in your blog -You must be following @hush-writes-preg -The subject matter must fall within my writing guidelines

Commission themes may include topics such as: Breeding/impregnation, pregnancy, labor, birth, and themes from my other blogs. They may also include fandoms such as D&D/Faerün, Baldür's Gate 3, Elder Scrölls, and Fällout in addition to my usual original content. My writing guidelines page has more details.

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out and ask.

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Fun fact: the highest recorded baby born in terms of weight was about 22 pounds. Something I'd love to do myself someday~

Reblogif you LOVE huge baby births - 12 pounds and over - and hard long pushing sessions

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Mother's Day Reminder

Remember, this Mother's Day, there are thousands of ways to become a mother...

on your hands and knees wailing as the head comes out too fast and splits your slit all the way through your asshole

feet on the dash, shrieking as you crown into your leggings, begging your partner to pull over and pull it out before it rips you

biting down on a t-shirt to stifle your screams as you strain out a big one over the toilet bowl in the school locker room

flat on your back with your legs up in stirrups, hyperventilating and begging for God as they attach the vacuum and start pulling

puking from the pain as the doctor fists your transverse lie twin out through your fourth degree tears

....and they're all valid! Happy Mother's Day!

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As promissed - the jorney into land that does not exist begins today.... "The Age of Iron was over, as the brutal and bloody end of last age lead to fall of the great empires, now, only their remains litter the lands in the south, giant statues, ruined cities, overgrown villages and more..the land was dead, yet....one entity, or perhaps a goddess....was keeping an eye on it as few statues stand mostly intact...ones depicting this long forgotten diety" Depicted here, we see a huntress and a warrior from the islands of karvoz, consulting a map carved into a tusk of the great boar, seeking treasures of one of the ancient cites, for the mythical iron and bronze is found there....

Yet, why does the warrior look like she does? Perhaps we will find out soon....

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Underated story, this needs more views!

Claire's birth (fic)

The pain was worse than she expected. Not sharp, but deep—bone-deep. Like her body was being split open from the inside in slow, grinding increments. There was no relief. Just wave after wave of pressure building in her spine, tightening across her abdomen, crashing over her and dragging her under before she could fully catch her breath.

Rebecca was on all fours, naked now, sweat slicking her back as she rocked slowly on the towels she’d laid out across her bedroom floor. Her hands were braced against the foot of the bed, knuckles pale, fingers curling with every surge.

A scream tore from her throat before she could swallow it.

She didn't care who heard anymore.

Between contractions, she panted and whispered to the only one who mattered.

“You’re strong, Claire,” she said, voice trembling. “I know you are. You’ve got your mum’s fight in you, don’t you?”

Another contraction gripped her lower back like a vice. She cried out, body curling instinctively, forehead dropping to the bedspread.

“Oh God—oh God,” she choked out. “It hurts so bloody much.”

Her voice broke into a sob, not from fear but sheer exhaustion. She was hours in now. Her thighs were cramping. Her arms trembled with effort. But she refused to stop.

“I’m here,” she gasped. “I’m still here, Claire. We’re doing this together, you and me. Just you and me.”

Another contraction. Another push. She screamed, her whole body bearing down as if her soul was being dragged through her bones.

“Come on, darling—come on,” she pleaded, voice hoarse. “I need you to come out now, alright? You’ve made your point. I believe you’re stubborn.”

She gave a breathless laugh between sobs and looked down through her legs, reaching back to feel—and there it was. The hard, taut swell of Claire’s head, just beginning to crown.

Rebecca cried out again, not in pain this time but disbelief. “Oh, my girl. You’re really coming.”

The burning intensified—hot, relentless, impossible. Her pelvis felt like it was splitting apart. She couldn’t hold back the moan that ripped from her throat, long and guttural.

“It’s alright, Claire,” she whispered, head resting against the mattress as she gathered strength. “It’s going to hurt, but only for a little longer. I promise. Just one more, yeah?”

Her whole body tensed.

She pushed.

Hard.

A scream ripped through the room—sharp, loud, and primal. Rebecca threw her head back as she bore down, trembling, sobbing through the fire. She felt everything—every millimetre of her daughter’s body forcing its way into the world.

And then—

A sudden shift.

Relief. Pressure gone. The wet, unbelievable slither of new life between her legs.

And then—crying.

Raw, angry, glorious crying.

Rebecca collapsed to one side, half-kneeling, half-lying on the towels, gasping for air, heart hammering. Her arms fumbled beneath her, reaching between her legs, and she pulled Claire up to her chest with a broken, astonished sob.

“Oh my God. Oh, Claire.”

The baby was slick and red and furious, wailing into the crook of her mother’s neck.

“You did it,” she whispered. “You did it, my brave, beautiful girl. We did it.”

Her arms wrapped around the newborn tightly, protectively. Her body still ached—still trembled—but none of that mattered anymore.

She kissed the baby’s damp hair, crying freely, laughing through the tears.

“You’re here. And you’re perfect. And you’re mine.”

And in that dim, rain-soaked bedroom, surrounded by damp towels and silence, Rebecca Welton held her daughter and felt something stronger than pain, stronger than fear:

Power. Love. And peace.

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I think this has to be one of the best audio's I've heard. Amazing!~

Don’t Pull Over!

This car birth audio was so fun to make. I took the many requests to be louder, so beware of volume! 🩵

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I want to share a dorm with a cutie who goes into labor and tries to muffle her whimpers all through the night to not wake me up until finally she can’t control the urge to bear down and begs me to come help her

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You love being a nun. You honor your vows of chastity so much you don’t even touch yourself. You hide your body under long robes and do penance every time your mind strays. 

You have dreams of shadowy caresses that leave you sticky and sweating, and you have to spend long hours in chapel to atone. You take to wearing a heavy chain around your waist and between your legs. 

Your belly starts swelling, and you will yourself not to notice. You pretend it isn’t happening for months. Your hips and back ache with the weight you refuse to acknowledge. Your breasts are full and tender. Your nipples rub against the rough fabric of your robes and it lights you on fire. 

You lay awake at night and feel the thing inside you moving. It kicks so hard your robes ripple. You cradle your belly and pray to God for answers. You pray for it to go away.

Eventually the shapeless black of your robes can’t save you anymore. The mother superior chastises you for being a whore. She places an iron collar around your throat to remind you of your sins. She tells you to do penance where everyone can see your punishment.

You weep and swear your virginity. You beg for help. She is unmoved. She tells you to swear on the Virgin Mother and maybe your innocence will be proved, but more likely you will be punished for claiming her holiness.

You kneel at a pew to do as you are told. Your knees are bare on the cold floor. Your hips burn as they spread under the weight of your bastard. Your belly hangs with nothing to support it. Pain rips through you as your womb tightens. She tells you that is punishment for your sins.

You pray through a haze of days. Your belly grows, and sags, and writhes. You spread your knees and rock your hips and sob. Your breasts are so tight they throb. Your robe strains against your girth. You keep your hands on the pew.

Water trickles down your legs. Your womb is nothing but agony, squeezing down on the monster inside you. It rips you open. Your bones creak. Instinct tells you to reach between your legs and ease its way. The mother superior seizes your wrists and binds them to the pew.

You scream and scream. You are a warning to the other harlots in the convent. Your whelp spreads you open. You push and strain, but there’s no one to help you or soothe you. You scream for God’s help and hear no answer. 

There is a night, and a day, and its head slips out in a gush of fluids that puddle around your knees. You sag with exhaustion, unable to keep going, pain leaving you incoherent.

Gravity does its job eventually. Inch by agonizing inch, your massive offspring squeezes out of you, changing your body forever. When you push a demon into the church, everyone will know you for the devil's bride.

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I loveeee hard births so much. I love when the baby is backwards or upside down, breech, sunny side up, brow presentation.. I love when the baby is in the wrong position and you dont know if you can push it out but you've got no choice to try no matter how much it hurts and how hard it is. I love big heads and stuck shoulders and slow, slow agonizing progress and all the distress that comes with it. I love pushing for hourss with no relief. I love the dramaa when the baby won't come, i love being told to push harder, I have to keep going, keep working, keep trying, and the excitement when it finally starts to emerge. Even still, it takes at least another hour of desperate struggling and excruciating stretching for it to come, and longer still with the wriggling, wailing infant stuck hanging out between my legs. Imagine the orgasmic release when it finally bursts free of that tight stretch after so many hours, to the relief of everyone around..

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I know this is mainly a breeding blog but I can't stop thinking about giving birth. I need to be in labour so bad I need to feel my pussy stretching and aching I need to feel the contractions I need to feel myself straining and pushing I need to feel the head crowning and my pussy lips bulging around it please please please

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Well then, this should be an easy enough answer:

1) I'll go with a foot. Though trying to shove out a fat head has its own fun, being unable to work with my body in order to get my baby out has a greater appeal. And unlike a head, the dangling foot would be constantly dripping down fluids from my thigh, making me being in labor even more obvious~

2) As someone with an exhibitionist streak, the only thing that would stop me from pushing right then and there would be my baby. Which I would need to bear down hard for anyways...

Imagine you're so overdue nothing really fits anymore so the only realistic clothing option is a dress. Despite being 44 weeks pregnant and massive you can't put your entire life on pause so you keep going out with friends - however one day when you're having tea with them you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom cause you've been having cramps all day and being this pregnant made you pee every 2 minutes. As soon as you sit on the toilet you feel a huge splash, your water.

You clean yourself up to the best of your ability, waddle out of the bathroom and tell your friends you're not feeling that well and have to go home.

You rush to the bus stop although it's more like a bow legged shuffle because you can feel your massive baby shoving itself through your cervix. Not to mention how you keep stopping every 3 minutes to clutch your giant belly and pant, hoping to stave off the unconscious urge to bear down.

There aren't many people waiting for the bus and they don't take notice of you even though at this point you can barely stand and you're sweating profusely.

You must make it home at least! When the bus finally arrives and you try to get on a gust of wind blows your dress up and exposes your soaked see-through underwear covering your labouring cunt.

Would you prefer it if they saw a ginormous head trying to spread your hole or a foot peeking out signifying a hard breech birth.

Would you prefer to give up, squat and push as hard as you can or try to make it home?

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Okay there’s something so hot about labor just…stopping. And I don’t mean it’s a false alarm, I mean a carrier being in full genuine labor, and then it just…stops. maybe the baby’s still stuck up in their belly, maybe partially in the birth canal, maybe they’ve even pushed part of the baby out. But the contractions slow and eventually quit. The urge to push disappears. Everything calms…and who knows when it’ll start again.

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What got you into childbirth?

My mom, but not in the way one would think. Since I was a kid, she's trained to be a midwife for as long as I've been on this planet for, and younger me would always look into her books/manuals out of sheer curiosity/boredom. It made me gaining a fascination for pregnancy/childbirth, but it didn't turn into a fetish till later.

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If you were pushing for me, you'd be standing on squatting over some warm blankets. This way I can let you lean back against my chest to rest, and give you something to brace against with each push ~~

A fine choice anon. Hope you don't mind holding me close for several hours due to me insisting that I have a natural birth, despite being overdue by a week. I'll be trembling, whimpering and groaning the entire time~

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Welcome to the birth kink community!

Do you prefer giving birth in a planned, calm environment surrounded by love and support,

OR

Do you like the idea of giving birth suddenly in a chaotic environment surrounded by people who judge you and could not care less about your well-being?

It would be more of a welcome back at this point, heh. Though to answer this properly: Though I do enjoy wholesome content like the first, the second has far more of an appeal to me. Waddling around for a while and trying desperately to not just push, before eventually giving up and being stuck in a half-squat wherever, barely able to cry out "F-fuckitstoomuchHAVINGABABYYYYY-" Meanwhile, everyone around me is looking at me weirdly and aren't intervening in the slightest. All they see is a woman who's screeching out her offspring right there and then~