ilikechheeese - Tumblr blog

ilikechheeese · 4 days ago

Text

And They Were Roommates Part 1

TMPREG, eventual M/F, Hyperpregnancy, Extreme baby movement, F masturbation.

Loosely inspired by prompt 465.6, "it’s not common but id love to see some het mpreg. give me an alpha woman taking care of her super preggers omega bf. lol"

Synopsis: Amber has a big crush on her roommate. He just so happens to be a hugely pregnant transman.

There was a tense silence in the clinic waiting room, or rather, there was a tense almost-silence. A half dozen mothers did not speak and pointedly tried not to stare, while a father-to-be filled the waiting room with soft groans and whimpers of discomfort.

When Charlie had first confessed to her that he was pregnant after a one-night stand, she had tried to assure him that with his recent top surgery, all it would take was some baggy clothes to convince people he was merely gaining weight.

Now, as she watched him struggle with his lopsided broodsack, that seemed like a charmingly naive notion. The largest t-shirt they could find only covered the top hemisphere of his belly, the rest hanging out in all its stretch-marked glory.

It was visibly heavy, his flushed underbelly sitting ponderously against the rough industrial fabric of the seat until it sagged down off the edge, all of that shifting mass seeming to come to a bloated, fundally stretched head right behind his enormously distended belly button. But the surest sign of its mass was the way Charlie was always reaching past his own bulk to try and support it, and the way it had no give, sitting as sure as granite in his hands, unbudged by his feeble attempts to support the mass that pressed so weightily down on his hips and pelvis.

Looking at it, she could picture all those fat, wriggling babies and the gallons of fluid in his womb weighing down on that poor belly button. She wondered what it might feel like.

A particularly hard kick high and off to the side pushed at the exact edge of his shirt, causing it to roll up, revealing more of his enormous belly. One woman, herself clearly carrying twins, gasped at the sheer size of the pregnant man opposite her.

Charlie dipped his head and awkwardly tried to pull his shirt back down.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got this,” Amber said to her incredibly pregnant roommate. She stood up and leaned over the hot red bulge of Charlie's belly to pull the shirt down. The truth was, she would have loved to parade him in front of all of these mothers and show off that beautiful big boy-womb stuffed so achingly pregnant. But she settled for the brief electricity that ran through her as she pulled the hem of his shirt down, feeling her hands brush against the tight, squirming expanse of his womb. She had to resist the urge to pat his belly, to lick along the thick dark line of his linea negra, to suck on his belly button like she was trying to fellate him.

But she didn’t. She had slept with plenty of people, but she never could figure out her way into Charlie’s pants. He was so tender, so shy, and so unsure of himself that whenever she tried to compliment him, he squirmed in uncertainty. With that goliath swell pushing past his ribs, she had never found him sexier, but he had never found himself less so.

Amber had never had that problem, long-legged, auburn-haired, and slender in all places save one; she was the first girl in her class to start developing and now, in her late twenties, she wondered when she would stop. Fulsome breasts, easily in the K-cup range, gave her a jiggling chest that would have made her the centre of attention in any other company.

She was proud of her figure, of the attention it drew - even if it usually was just the simple lust of someone looking to fondle the most enormous tits they’d ever seen. But she also knew that was a barrier to the type of person she preferred. The reserved, thoughtful kind, that she could comfort and nurture, always thought she was toying with them, and so it had been with Charlie. In his current state, she was sure that if she so much as fluttered her eyelashes at him, he might break down in hormonal tears.

“Carter, Doctor Lantry will see you now.”

“Oh, and just when I was getting uncomfortable,” he said with a breathy laugh, punctuated with a lurching whimper as another baby assaulted his womb walls. “Would you please help me up again, Amber?”

He was always so polite with her. That gentlemanly aspect of him had always attracted her. When she dared to dream, she pictured him giving her a rose, and dressing up to take her to a fancy restaurant or to the theatre. And now in those dreams, he did all of that with a beautifully full womb as well.

With a mutual grunt of effort, she helped to pull Charlie to a standing position, his face flushed and sweaty, his belly flesh too had an extra sheen of perspiration to it.

“Try to keep up,” Charlie joked in a whisper as he began his marathon journey to the doctor’s office. His pregnancy had come to so thoroughly overwhelm him that he was now in the stage beyond waddling. He was in the wallowing stage. Swaying heavily, almost painfully from side to side, he put one foot in front of the other, both hands cradled under his bump - doing his best to alleviate the tremendous sagging weight of his womb. All the while, the kicking of his brood intensified with the extra movement, causing him to hiss and wince in pain.

Amber went ahead and opened the door for him since his belly was getting to the point that it was hard for him to open doors for himself. His belly joined her in the room, and then after a bit of careful positioning, the man himself entered. She felt her clit throb when his shirt brushed against one side of the doorframe.

“Good evening, Mister Carter,” said Doctor Lantry. She was a willowy woman with thin, refined features and a pleasant smile. “Have you given any more consideration to finishing your pregnancy with a long-stay facility?”

“No!” he said sharply, both hands clutching at his monstrously swollen womb. “No. I don’t want to be poked and prodded at,”

“I just think-”

“He said what he said, doctor,” Amber interceded. “Now let’s get him off his feet,”

Getting onto the medical bed was an ordeal in itself; the sheer weight of his preposterous pregnancy was such that his belly simply was his centre of mass, and that meant that lifting a leg up and swinging that enormous baby ball around was simply not feasible - at least alone.

Amber wore a lot of perfume to Charlie’s tests, solely to help cover how wet she got when this part came up. Working in tandem with the father-to-be, she laid her hands on the beautiful, overstuffed womb and helped to push his paternal heft onto the bed. She could feel the clammy smooth stripes of his stretchmarks and the forceful ripples of his babies beneath that tortured flesh. She could feel the kicking intensifying as their father jostled onto the bed.

“Oh god, they’re moving, they’re really moving!” Charlie wailed, one leg on the bed, one leg off as his womb contorted. “OHHHH GOD! Make it stooop!” he screamed, his eyes squeezed shut as the overly knocked-up boy tried so hard to endure the battle raging in his womb.

Writhing beneath his poor, abused belly-skin, the faint shapes of arms and legs surfaced and bulged out of him, each time eliciting a more powerful wail.

“Don’t worry, Chaz, we’ve almost got you,” Amber said loudly enough to be heard over his pained moans but with a gentleness in her voice meant to coddle him. As she helped to heft him up, she pushed into the undulating mass of his belly, causing the great, pressurised mass to writhe like a sack of puppies trying to burst free of him. She felt the powerful kicking of the nine fetuses inside him, the taut liquid pressure of his amniotic fluid recoiling with the motion, and finally she had him on the bed.

Charlie was practically sobbing with pain and humiliation by the time he was securely on the bed. She felt sad for him; she knew that this pregnancy was a burden on him. But by god she wanted to lick the sweat off his engorged womb and fuck him right on the bed. Doctor Lantry could watch. Or join in.

“It’s okay, you did it, Charlie, you did it.” She said, holding his clammy, trembling hand.

The Doctor waited for the surges of fetal movement to stop in her patient before commenting thusly. “Mister Carter, you really need to go to a specialised facility. We’re at least six weeks away from delivery, and your comfort is clearly being impacted.”

“I can’t,” Charlie protested. “If I go, doctors will study me and bring med students to learn about the freak on their maternity wards, and all those gossiping nurses, I can’t do it. I won’t!” his voice was strained not just from raw emotion but from the come-down of the kicking storm to get him on the bed.

“As your gestation progresses, so too will your care needs; are you prepared for that?”

“I am,” Amber answered.

“Thank you,” he said and gripped her arm.

“Well, I hope your partner-”

“Oh no, we’re just friends,” Amber said quickly, and made sure Charlie wouldn’t see her blushing.

“I hope your….friend is ready for the task then.”

“Your fluid levels are still high. Growth rate is strong, though; all babies are in the 95th percentile or higher, I would say. Hmm,” Doctor Lantry paused and studied her monitors closely as she worked the ultrasound wand over Charlie’s bump.

“What’s wrong?” he said, hands perched on the very top of his bump-shelf.

“Nothing, it’s just hard to be certain because all your fetuses are so active, but -” there was an extremely pregnant pause as she examined the interior of this extremely pregnant man. “Yes, I’m sure of it. We’ve found another. A big one too. Mister Carter, you’re carrying ten,” she said.

“Ten. My god,” he muttered, his eyes big and blue on his freckled face.

“I’ll help you pick out some extra names,” Amber said with a smile.

“Still so sure you want to look after me,”

“Absolutely,”

Doctor Lantry interrupted the moment. “If you change your mind, and I must strenuously recommend that you do, we can also help you into the proper facilities.”

“Thank you, Doctor, but I just want to go home now.”

Helping Charlie down from the chair was an ordeal, but a lesser one now that gravity was working with them rather than against them.

What followed was a marathon effort to get Charlie back out and through the waiting room and then into the car park.

“Oh god, my ankles, my back, it’s all too much!” he sighed. Struggling with the weight of his massive belly.

“Lean on me, it’s alright,”

“Thanks again, Amber,” he said as he held on to her side. Her payment was feeling the kicking of his brood as they pummelled her flank. It was seven minutes in heaven, shuffling to their car. After which Charlie was red and slick with sweat, his belly throbbing with kicks from his exertion. Save for the overstuffed womb, she was in a similar state from sheer lust.

Technically, it was Charlie’s car, but in his present state, he could hardly fit in the passenger seat, never mind behind the wheel. She helped him navigate his big belly into the shotgun seat, pushed back as far as it would go, well past the door pillar into the passenger seats at the back. And still, his throbbing lumpy womb occasionally lurched against the dashboard.

“Let’s get you buckled in,” she said, leaning over his belly to work the seatbelt. She felt the hot warmth of his ten-baby brood sack through the fabric of her skirt. In a perfect world, she would have posed like this forever. Instead, she dragged herself off as she found the buckle, though she made sure to drag her heavy breasts across his belly as she did so.

“I’m sorry you have to do all this for me,” he said, ashamed of his excess fertility.

“Don’t be, Charlie, I’m happy to do it, you know that,”

“You’re - “ he gasped as a particularly hard kick brought the hem of his shirt up again. “You’re a good friend.” She was struck by the fettered joy of his smile, that warmth undercut by the exertions of his condition.

His hand brushed hers as she helped to pull it back down. “So are you,” she said with equal tenderness. “Let’s get you fed, you’re eating for eleven.”

Driving with Charlie was a fraught affair in his current state. With no onlookers, he was free to moan and whimper with the volatile movements of his decuplets, which was more than a little bit distracting for Amber. Then there was the matter of his size. Charlie’s belly didn’t just surge out, it bowed round and wide past his widening hips and overhung into the central console by a few inches. More than once, she had actually caught him in his pregnant flank while she worked the gearshift.

“Sorry,” she hissed as she caught him, setting off a slight flurry of kicking.

“Gnaaah! Fuck!” he gasped, voice cracking as his belly quaked with movement. “It - oooh-urgh - it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” he said between rubbing wide circles around the top of his belly.

It was true, she hadn’t meant to set off his brood, but she felt guilty all the same at the dark arousal that shivered through her whenever she saw him struggling with his own massive belly.

She kept her eyes on the road until she reached the drive-through of the nearest takeout spot to home.

“Your total will be £194, please come through to the next window.”

She ignored the fast-food worker’s shocked look at the mass of pregnant flesh sitting in the passenger seat, the man himself pushed back well out of their line of sight.

She paid and put the food behind her in the passenger seat. The sheer girth of Charlie’s belly meant he couldn’t handle the food, and Amber couldn’t get to the passenger side footwell. They had tried to balance the food on the shelf off his huge pregnant tummy like they had seen on TikTok videos, but the heat of the food made the horde growing in his womb restless. She still remembered the blood-curdling scream he let out when he thought he really was about to burst. And the babies had only grown stronger in him since then.

No, rather than risk that she now had to twist in her seat as she put away practically the entire breakfast menu behind her, along with multitudinous sides behind her. They drank their milkshakes on the way back. They both always had chocolate, which made things easier.

“Hmm, it smells great,” Charlie said breathily, as she saw the dents of limbs rippling across the surface of his belly intensify. “Ngh, looks like they think so too,” he said as he rubbed what he could of his belly.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost home.”

Home, such as it was, was a rented apartment on the ground floor of a soulless 2010s-era mid-rise. The parking was decent, with a reserved spot right outside their door.

Amber opened the door on his side. “Come on, big pull,”

“Ngh” Charlie said with a grunt of effort as they once again worked together to get him out of his seat. His legs nearly quaked with the exertion after his trip to the clinic and the ordeal at the car park.

He was almost at his most nervous getting back into the house, the idea that neighbours, people he knew, would see him so preposterously, debilitatingly knocked up.

For the most part, no one said anything, and that was true today as well, the benefits of going out mid-morning on a weekday. All the same, the memory of one of their neighbours muttering whale as they passed his lurching belly in the hall was still fresh in their minds as they made their way back to the flat.

It was modest. Two bedrooms of decent size, a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room/dining area with catalogue furniture, save for a few antique pieces Amber had picked up over the years.

The main sofa had been put up on bricks to make it easier for Charlie to sit down.

Even so, a brief squeal came from him as he sat down. “Ow! Owww! Lightning crotch,” he gasped, shifting uncomfortably on the cushions and pawing at his belly.

“Just try to get comfortable and I’ll be back in a moment.”

By the time she had gathered the takeout and returned, Charlie was sprawled out on the sofa, his colossal belly shifting languidly as he tried to recoup his energy.

“Sorry, Amber, can you help me get my shoes off?”

“Happy to,” she said as she put the takeaway on the coffee table in easy reach of her grossly pregnant roommate.

From this angle, she had an unrestricted view of his delicious underbelly. The ‘V’ of his hips where his belly pushed the front of his shorts down. She had to fight the temptation to pull them down entirely and eat out his ripe and ready boy-cunt.

She focused her mind and pulled off the orthopedic shoes he had needed to wear since his first trimester.

“No wonder that walk was killing you, your feet are looking really swollen today, your ankles too.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Charlie said behind the room divider of his lovely pregnant belly. She took the armchair closer to his head so she could watch him eat.

They put on the TV for background noise; she let Charlie pick. He chose to carry on with ‘their’ rewatch of Star Trek. She preferred fantasy, but she had fantasy enough already, right in front of her.

She ate her breakfast wrap and watched as flurries of kicks rippled across his womb. He still grimaced and rubbed his hand against the flushed pink expanse of his belly, but with his mouth constantly full, he couldn’t voice his discomfort.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m full but I’m still hungry. Because they’re still hungry, they’re already so big they’re squishing my stomach, but I must keep them fed. It’s like they’re controlling me from the inside out. Like I’m some womb on legs.”

She was going to fuck herself raw over that ‘womb on legs’ comment tonight. “About the extra baby, I meant.”

“God, I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do with nine of them, and now ten! God I’m such a stupid pregnant breeder slut, I knew I should have turned that guy down and now look at me,” he said shoving a hand into his own gut. It was a mistake, and they both knew it. Amber winced for what was to come.

“I’m - HMMMMNNGHHHHHYYYAAAR!!” he screamed, cut off by the sheer pain of his brood rampaging around his bump. Arms and legs, even the wide, round distensions of heads forced their way to the surface of his belly with their kicking storm.

“Oh shit! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” he screamed, eyes shut as he desperately put his hands over the relative sliver of bump he could reach. His eyes were squeezed shut to keep the sweat running down his face from getting into his eyes. “Oh Christ! They’re ripping me apart! Help me! Amber help - nghhh - I’m going to burst!!”

She dabbed his face with a takeaway napkin. “It’s alright, I’m here,” Amber grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re not going to burst. Deep breaths, nice and steady, I’ll calm them down.” She held him with one hand and moved to soothe his belly with the other, from the force of the babies pushing against her palm. It was hard to believe he was only twenty weeks. Bit by bit, she helped to calm the babies and their suffering father.

“Thanks,” Charlie said in a small, drained voice. “Sorry, you have to spend all this time looking after a hugely pregnant freak like me.”

She still had her hand on his bump. She stroked it gently over the ridges of his stretchmarks. “You know I don’t think of you like that. It’s a beautiful thing you’re doing.”

“I’m the size of a house!” he protested with the slightest mirth in his eyes that told her she had succeeded in cheering him up. “And you have to do everything for me, my food, helping me move, and all the rest. All because my belly’s so stuffed full of babies.”

She looked deeply into those big, soft eyes of his. “I would do anything for you.”

After brunch was over, she logged back into work. She hadn’t told Charlie yet, but over the last sixteen weeks, since he announced his pregnancy she had been putting her all into work and earned a promotion, as well as putting her juicy tits and bubble butt all over OnlyFans. She was sitting on a small fortune—the fortune it would take to raise ten children.

Periodically, she paused her work to come back out to the living room and check on Charlie, helping him adjust his position on the couch, helping him to the bathroom, and fetching him snacks and drinks as needed. Even when she was working, she kept her iPad on her desk so that she could message him. Their chat was a stream of memes, dirty jokes, and the sort of aimless conversation that only people who have known each other for a lifetime can accomplish.

Amber heaved slightly as she helped Charlie shift into bed. “Good night, Charlie,” she said, knowing she would probably have to help him to the bathroom at least twice at night.

“Good night, Amber,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry, we sound like a married couple in a kids' book.”

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Though she was anticipating some disturbances in the night, she knew she would have at least a little while, so she changed into a corset, suspenders and stockings, her face hidden by a little mask. She remembered to take her pills, as well.

She put on some soothing background music, quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb her pregnant roommate, and set her camera to record. She teased her imagined viewers with a dildo just on the edge of the screen.

She never spoke, just gyrated and slowly squeezed her fat, natural breasts free of her corset. At the three-minute mark, she stripped, showing the neatly trimmed crease of her sex, before finally she lay back, open to the camera and worked the dildo in and out of herself. She thought of Charlie, his big heaving belly convulsing in her hands, the way he called himself a breeder and a womb on legs. She imagined the delicious weight of his distended belly on hers, a strapon deep inside as he fucked her. After spending all day fantasising about it and quietly working herself into a frenzy, she came like a burst pipe.

It would sell well. Cupping her breasts one more time she felt a wetness against her palm. The pills were working.

Thanks for reading to the end. I hope to do 3 or 4 more parts. I intend to put all of it here and on my own blog: depravedpreg

101 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 5 days ago

Note

Ooh love the idea of a part 2 of the demon one, now for the spawn he planted in you. 🥵

Part 2 of spawning for a demon. 😈

I’ve had an agonizing pregnancy, heavy with demon spawn that burn me from the inside out, clawed hands and horn buds scraping my womb as I progress. But I’m about to experience the best part.

I’m on my hands and knees while another contraction rips through my naked body, my cervix fully dilated and my cunt and thighs slick with my broken waters—and my own cum. I’ve climaxed five or six times already, just jerking my tdick off and feeling the first of his young so low in my hips.

The urge to push courses through me, but I’ve been panting and moaning and holding back for an hour. I thought he would be here. I thought he would help me whelp his spawn again. Our spawn. The ones I just spent nine months growing for him. There’s been no sign of—

I’m yanked roughly from behind and a pronged dick is buried deep in my cunt, hot and thick. I scream and cum immediately, I’ve waited for this.

He is here.

“I need to push,” I moan.

He doesn’t let me. He has his way with me, pounding my hole for twenty minutes, thirty, more, without ceasing. Contractions strain my stomach and his spawn strain in my womb, eager to be birthed out of me onto the bed they were conceived on.

“I need to whelp!” I scream. “Please! I have to whelp!”

He moans—the first sound I’ve heard from him—and cums inside me, burning my womb with his seed. I’m still reeling from the heat when he pulls out and the head of his first spawn slips into my birth canal.

I push on my hands and knees.

The horn buds on the head quickly bruise me as our first spawn thrashes. I scream and push again, and it’s already at my lips. It’s happening too fast.

The burn of the crown is deep, and hot, and primal. The horn buds are caught inside me as I strain to push out the head.

“It’s stuck,” I gasp.

He plunges three clawed fingers into me between its head and my lips, and pulls. He looses the horn buds and leaves me struggling at a full crown, his fingers adding girth to the already agonizing stretch. I whimper but he doesn’t withdraw. I push uselessly, painfully, screaming as I bear down.

“Please let me whelp,” I moan. “I need it, I need to whelp, I need to fucking whelp!”

He rips our first born spawn out of me. I hear it hit the bed between my knees and feel the umbilical cord slap against one of my legs. I collapse on my side, crying. I raise my head to look at our spawn, deep red and steaming. He places it on my chest and lifts my leg up and back, bracing me for the next whelping.

I push on my side, my burning belly resting on the bed and our unnaturally hot spawn scorching my chest. Its umbilical cord trails in a hot line down my belly to where it snakes out of my cunt.

Panting and heaving, no gravity to help me as I lay on my side. My demon does not move to help me whelp the second. I cry and push, and push. The burn of the crown grips me and I get no help with the horn buds this time. Finally one horn bud releases, then the other, and the head shoots out of me. I pant as the second spawn rotates and then whelp it out on the next push.

My belly doesn’t feel any smaller than when I was laboring.

He makes me hold both burning-hot spawn against my chest while I whelp the third one, pushing its way past two umbilical cords and my ruined lips to whelp out of me as I scream.

I lose track at that point. I’m overheated, trying to hold so many spawn while I struggle to whelp the next. And the next. And the next. I’m lost in a haze of pain and heat.

Maybe I lose consciousness, or maybe I was just so lost in pushing and straining. But finally the urge to whelp fades, and I become aware again. My demon is wrapping the myriad umbilical cords around his wrist, then he yanks and detaches the placenta inside me. I want to scream—it hurts—but I’m too weak. He hauls the afterbirth out of me without waiting for more contractions. As the last sign of my pregnancy exits my cunt, my belly finally cools and I weep in relief.

But he lifts up my hips and slams his cock into me just in time for him to cum deep inside my wrecked womb. His burning seed fills me once more.

And I realize he’s rewarding me a second time for bringing his army into the mortal world. He’s going to keep rewarding me, on a permanent nine-month schedule, until my body gives out after many years of hard whelpings.

28 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 6 days ago

Text

Luke & Owen Part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ⬤

By the time Luke reached the final weeks of his pregnancy, the changes in his body were undeniable. His belly had grown into a full, round dome, stretching tightly against his skin, and his hips had broadened to accommodate the life growing inside him. His glutes had filled out even more, creating a noticeable sway in his walk. Despite his athletic build, Luke found himself slowing down, feeling the weight and responsibility in every step.

The weight of his brother-to-be pressed low into his pelvis, the baby’s head engaged and ready for birth. The sensation of his skin stretching was a constant reminder of how far along he was. Luke’s cheeks, fuller and rounder than they’d ever been, jiggled with every movement, his hips swaying with the newfound weight of his body. His belly was taut, his skin flushed and slick with sweat.

Coupled with the emotional intensity of being a surrogate, Luke’s contractions intensified as he approached the final hours of his pregnancy, the sensations deepening with every passing moment. His body, stretched and strained to its limits, was now ready to deliver the baby he had been carrying for nine months. The journey had been long and emotionally complex, and as he lay cradling his massive belly, Luke knew he would soon meet his baby brother.

The day had started with Braxton Hicks contractions, those familiar but irregular tightenings that had accompanied him for weeks now. But by the early afternoon, they had changed—becoming more frequent, more intense, more real. His belly, already large and heavy, had dropped significantly, the baby settling lower in preparation for birth. Each step Luke took was labored, his hips swaying under the weight of his enormous bump, the fullness of his glutes adding to the strain as they jiggled slightly with each movement.

As he sat in Owen’s dorm, Luke felt a strange sensation, unlike anything he’d experienced before—a deep, internal shift. It was as though the baby, his brother, was lowering into his pelvis, settling into position for the moment he’d been preparing for. Luke gasped softly, his hand instinctively going to his belly.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I think it’s starting,” Luke whispered. “I feel him… low, like he’s moving down.”

Within hours, the sensation intensified, contractions starting low in his abdomen and wrapping around his back like waves of pressure. Luke could feel his body preparing, the tightening around his belly making it clear that labor was beginning. As they sat in the living room, Owen’s hand massaging Luke’s lower back, there was a sudden warmth—his water had broken.

“Owen… it’s time,” Luke said, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside him.

They made their way to the hospital, Luke’s body already feeling the intense pressure of the contractions. Every step brought the baby lower, and with each contraction, the urge to push grew stronger. Owen stayed by his side, helping him through the early stages of labor as they prepared for the delivery.

The drive to the hospital blurred in Luke’s mind as the contractions intensified. By the time they arrived, the pressure in his pelvis was immense, and every contraction brought with it the unmistakable urge to push. Luke's massive belly hung low between his thickened legs as he was helped into the delivery room. His pecs, now fuller and more sensitive from the hormonal changes, quivered with each deep breath.

The nurses guided him to the water birthing tub that had been prepared for him, and the warm water provided immediate relief as he sank into it. Owen stood by his side, his hand never leaving Luke’s back, gently massaging the small of it to ease the tension in his trembling body.

Luke instinctively got on all fours in the water, his belly hanging heavily below him, the weight pressing down on his pelvis as the contractions grew stronger. He arched his back and pressed his mountainous cheeks out, feeling the baby shift lower. The sight of his massive glutes flexing with each push caught Owen’s eye. He couldn’t help but admire Luke’s strength, the way his body had thickened and grown to bring this life into the world.

As another contraction hit, Luke gripped the sides of the tub, the primal desire to push overwhelming him. His cheeks quivered as they flexed with the effort, the muscles straining to bring the baby down. Owen’s hands, now resting on Luke’s back and moving lower, massaged the trembling mounds of his cheeks, offering support and grounding him in the midst of the pain.

“You’re doing so well, Luke,” Owen whispered, his voice calm and steady.

Luke’s body, slick with sweat, responded instinctively to the encouragement. His glutes flexed again as he bore down, feeling the baby moving further into the birth canal. The intensity of the stretch was unlike anything he had ever felt before, the pressure growing as his entrance began to dilate.

As the contractions intensified, Luke’s strong muscles worked tirelessly, his back arching as he pushed. He could feel his entrance beginning to stretch, the baby’s head pressing down, creating a deep, burning sensation. Owen’s hands continued to offer reassurance, rubbing soothing circles on his quivering cheeks, grounding Luke in the moment.

With a deep breath, Luke bore down, his body responding to the first overwhelming urge to push from the beginning of the contraction. Luke instinctively reached back, parting his cheeks to reveal the growing bulge as his brother made his way into the world. His skin stretched taut, the sensation intense but powerful, as though his body was working in perfect harmony with the baby. The sensation of his skin stretching, his body making way for the baby, was almost surreal. The sight of the bulge forming between his cheeks filled the room with anticipation.

Luke’s face flushed with effort as he gasped, his hips instinctively shifting to find a more stable position. His massive belly tightened with each contraction, and his glutes quivered, jiggling slightly as he adjusted himself. Then, a deep cramp surged through him, a sensation that seemed to rise from the very core of his being. He hunkered down into a wide squat, his knees spreading apart to bear the weight and intensity of the moment.

His veins pulsed visibly under his skin as he pushed with all his strength, feeling his brother’s head slide lower, pressing into the birth canal. The burning stretch reached its peak as the head crowned fully, and Luke’s breathing became ragged. His face contorted with the overwhelming pressure and pain. “It hurts so much,” he gasped, his voice trembling, his hand instinctively reaching back to cup his gaping entrance, his fingertips brushing against the wet softness of the baby’s head.

Owen knelt beside him, his eyes filled with both awe and deep concern. He gently placed a hand on Luke’s back, his fingers lightly tracing the damp skin there. “You’re doing so well, Luke,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. “Just breathe… you’re almost there. I’m right here. I love you.”

Luke nodded, taking a shaky breath, his focus narrowing to the task at hand as Owen’s words grounded him in the moment. The water around them rippled, turning cloudy as the baby’s head pressed further down, Luke’s body working tirelessly to bring his brother into the world.

Luke’s glutes felt tender, quivering between contractions, the tension in his body mounting as he held himself steady. He instinctively pushed his cheeks out further, the fullness of his brother’s head still holding him open, sticking out from his entrance. The sensation was overwhelming, but there was no turning back now.

Another contraction hit like a wave, more powerful than the last. Luke gasped, his breath catching as he bore down again, pushing with all his might. The baby’s head inched out further, his entrance stretching taut around it, the deep, burning ache radiating through his body. But Luke was determined to see it through. He could feel the life inside him—his brother—nearing the moment of birth.

His glutes flexed instinctively, muscles trembling with the intensity of the effort. Luke could feel the baby’s shoulders turning within him, preparing for the final descent. Adjusting his stance, his massive mounds jiggled slightly with the movement, and he braced himself for the final push.

Then, the last contraction hit. It was stronger than anything Luke had felt before, urging him to push with every ounce of strength he had left. He bore down with everything, gritting his teeth as the baby’s head finally emerged fully. His glutes flexed powerfully, the strain etched on his face, and he felt the baby’s body begin to slide free. For a moment, he held still, letting gravity do its work as he gasped for air.

But with one final, intense squeeze of his glutes, the baby’s shoulders slipped through, followed by the legs and feet. In an instant, the rest of his brother was born, emerging from his body in a rush of warm fluid. Luke’s massive bubble butt flexed one last time as each cheek jiggled with the release, his muscles finally able to relax after the monumental effort.

The relief was immediate and profound. Luke collapsed forward slightly, his body trembling from exhaustion as he felt the baby slip into the water. His cheeks jiggled one last time as the tension fully released from his body.

Luke’s body trembled with the aftermath of the monumental effort. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breath, feeling the intense relief wash over him now that his brother had been born. But the process wasn’t over yet. He could feel the subtle pressure of the placenta still inside him, a reminder that his body’s work was not entirely done.

A gentle contraction rippled through his lower belly, much weaker than the ones before, but enough to signal that the placenta was ready to be born. Luke’s body instinctively responded, his muscles clenching one final time as he gave a soft push. The sensation was different now—there was no longer the intense pressure of the baby, but rather a raw, tender feeling in his opening from the sheer effort of bringing life into the world.

The warm, slick sensation of the placenta slipping free from his body left Luke in awe. It was a final release, the last piece of the journey his body had endured for months. He felt lighter, his belly now much smaller and softer than it had been just moments ago. The emptiness was strange, yet it carried with it a profound sense of accomplishment. He had done it. He had carried, nurtured, and brought his baby brother into the world.

Luke’s hand instinctively moved to his belly, feeling the now-loose skin, the soft folds where a full, taut dome had been just minutes earlier. The rawness in his lower body was ever-present, a tender ache in his opening reminding him of the incredible feat his body had just performed. And despite the discomfort, despite the exhaustion, he felt a deep sense of wonder. His body had done this. It had created life and brought it forth. It was nothing short of miraculous.

The nurse, calm and efficient, reached into the water and lifted the baby, wiping him down gently before swaddling him in a soft blanket. With a warm smile, she handed the newborn to Luke, placing the tiny bundle in his arms.

As Luke cradled his baby brother, the tiny boy’s warm weight settled against his chest, he felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly overwhelmed him. The baby’s small, delicate face was peaceful now, his cries having subsided as he nuzzled into Luke’s skin. Tears welled up in Luke’s eyes as he looked down at him—this little life he had carried and protected for months, now safe and sound in his arms.

Owen leaned in beside him, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple. “He’s beautiful, Luke,” Owen whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it. You really did it.”

Luke’s heart swelled, and he looked at Owen, his own tears now falling freely. “We did it,” he whispered back, his voice trembling with awe and joy.

They shared a quiet moment, the three of them, wrapped in a cocoon of love and tenderness. The room was still, the only sounds the soft breathing of the newborn in Luke’s arms and the occasional sniffle from Luke and Owen as they tried to process the enormity of what had just happened.

The nurse stepped forward, breaking the gentle silence. “Have you decided on a name?” she asked, her voice warm and kind.

Luke and Owen exchanged a glance, and in that unspoken moment, they knew. They had talked about names in passing, but now, holding the baby in their arms, it felt real—so much more than just a conversation. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

“We’ll name him Aaron,” Luke said softly, the name slipping from his lips with a sense of certainty. It was a name that carried meaning, one that both Luke and Owen felt was right.

Owen smiled, wiping away a tear as he nodded in agreement. “Aaron,” he repeated, his voice soft and full of love. “It’s perfect.”

Luke looked down at baby Aaron, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. In that moment, all the pain, the uncertainty, and the family drama seemed to fade into the background. What mattered now was the life in his arms, the future they would build together, and the unbreakable bond they shared as a new family.

With Owen by his side, Luke knew they could face anything. They had created something beautiful together, and no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them as a team. Holding baby Aaron close, Luke felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. He had brought this life into the world, and with Owen, he would make sure it was filled with love.

As the three of them sat there, the weight of the past months finally lifted, leaving only the love that had carried them through.

360 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 6 days ago

Text

a tiny omega boy winds up pregnant with his mates pups. at first, he, his mate, and their pack are all thrilled, but there’s an underlying current of worry within some of them regarding just how small he is, and whether or not this is safe. his stomach begins to visibly bulge at two months along, and with it comes the first few onsets of panic, warded off by his mate’s cuddles and constant reassurance that it’s okay, he’s fine, he’s safe, and everything is going to be alright.

its relatively smooth sailing for a while after that, with the omegas stomach still growing but nothing too alarming just yet. his packs other omega member helps him build a large, comfortable nest which he immediately and proudly shows off to his mate.

things get concerning around month 5, when his belly almost doubles in size seemingly out of nowhere. his belly button now sticks out as a little nub on the top of his large, aching tummy and his previously flat chest has swollen out into breasts that produce a sweet milk, much to the delight of his mate, who enjoys both the milk itself and the reactions she can draw out of her sweet little omega when she drinks from him.

when month 6 hits the omega is nest-ridden, his stomach now so large that his frail little body can’t support it anymore. his pack is seriously worried by now, and they all try their best to take care of him, but none try so hard as his mate, who at this point has become increasingly concerned for her poor little omega’s wellbeing.

month 7, the growing hasn’t stopped, and the boy is in a full blown panic. his entire body aches, he can barely move, his stomach feels like it’ll split open at any second, and he’s still supposed to have two more months to go! he becomes prone to fits of terrified sobbing as he considers his situation; it’s clear by now that he’s carrying an above average sized litter, and that his body was never made to do so, and he’s heard the horror stories of what happens to omegas whose litters just end up being too big for them to handle, who end up dying after hours of agonizing labor when their bodies just can’t take anymore.

he’s scared out of his mind, he doesn’t want to die, but he’s trapped in a situation where there’s a high likelihood that he will and he’s miserable and terrified. his mate now spends almost all of her time curled up in the nest with her omega, desperately trying to reassure him that he’s okay, he’s not going to die, she’s going to take care of him and everything will be alright, while all the while she’s practically being eaten alive with both guilt for doing this to him and fear that she might lose her precious little mate. their pack looks on in both pity and worry.

he winds up going into labor prematurely, and its quietly suspected that this may have been what saved his life. had he have carried his pups full term, or even, god forbid, longer than that, then the stress of labor would almost certainly have been too much for him. but one afternoon, a couple weeks before his predicted due date, his mate is awoken to the sound of his agonized wailing as his body finally decides its had enough.

his cries call the attention of the rest of their pack, and his mate signals for one of the betas to call an ambulance as she tries her best to soothe him. the pain is like nothing he’s ever experienced before or imagined possible, he feels like he’s being ripped apart by countless, dulled blades and he just wants it to stop oh god why wont it stop?!? he’s gone into full blown hysterics, sobbing so hard he can barely breathe, his eyes so flooded with tears that he cant make out the face of his mate above him, cradling him and crying herself at the sight of her precious boy in so much pain, and her being helpless to stop it.

they manage to make it to the hospital, with the omega clinging to his mate so tightly that his blunt fingernails draw blood, begging her to please, please make it stop, make the pain go away because he can’t, he can’t, oh god he can’t do this. a doctor tries to peel them away from each other because they really need to start helping this kid, fast, and they cant do that if his large, panicking mate is draped over him and she snaps her teeth in warning.

logic has given way to root, primal instinct and that instinct was telling her that her mate was in pain, and that it was her job as his alpha to protect him, to keep these sterile figures in white coats away from her darling omega at all costs. it ends up taking five nurses to remove her, and she goes kicking and screaming and biting, desperate to get back to her mate who wails at the absence of his alpha.

he’s given as many pain meds as they can give him, and the doctors set to work on making sure both he and his pups live through this. this isn’t the first time the hospital has had to deal with alphas going feral over their mates, and as per procedure the boy’s mate is given a mild tranquilizer and handed over to her pack, who, although worried themselves, gladly take up the task of calming her.

five hours later and the omega boy has successfully birthed all 9 pups, 5 more than the average litter size, and is recuperating in a small hospital room as the babies are taken care of in the NICU, mostly as a precaution given the prematurity of their birth and their small size. the poor omega is exhausted, having just been through multiple hours of intense stress and agony too strong for the painkillers to manage. he’s thrilled at the sight of his alpha as she’s let into the room, and wastes no time in cuddling up into her embrace as she lays down in the hospital bed next to him, moving a number of tubes and wires out of her way to do so.

after some further time spent at the hospital, making sure that both the tiny father and his many, many minuscule pups were healthy, they were released back home with nine more family members than they’d started with. the omega boy was relieved to have not only survived, but succeeded in having his mates children like they’d always wanted, and his mate was over the moon to have not just her baby boy still with her, safe and sound, but nine new precious little things for her and her omega to love together. their pack shared similar emotions, and though it was never said out loud, everyone agreed that for those two, nine was definitely enough.

166 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 12 days ago

Text

The Run-Away Prince and His Knight (original story)

*WARNING: This is fetish content! Read at your own discretion.*

Warning #2: VERY. LONG. 10 thousand words.

Also putting up some preemptive rules here:

You do not have my permission to re-post my writing (reblogging is welcome and encouraged, but not re-posting).

You do not, under any circumstances, have my permission to use this or any of my works for generative ai purposes.

With that out of the way,

The long awaited run-away prince x knight story is here! I tried to make this a long one but hopefully not to the point that it’s boring to read. Basic background is that a prince and his ftm trans knight run away from their kingdom which demands the prince be married and blah blah some medieval fantasy politics that the prince wants to avoid. The prince and his knight are in love with each other, though they don’t quite know it yet. But they’ve already been sleeping together and… well… made an oops!

This story has:

Very intense and realistic depiction of birth

Stealth FTM knight

Mostly long pushing phase (again. seriously. this is 10k.)

A cranky old midwife who is probably a witch but we love her for it

Dad’s (the prince’s) pov

Sappy love confessions

Introducing these original characters I made for this story and now totally love: Bastian and Leo. And their baby, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bastian knows he’s pacing. This is fine. There’s nothing wrong with pacing, especially when his nerves are absolutely on fire and he has no other outlet. And here, though he’s struggling to accept this, it’s okay for him to let his guard down, to be afraid. Here, he is not a prince. Here he is just Bastian, with no duties and no expectations.

They had to stop somewhere in the south of Spain, Bastian and his knight, who is the bravest of all indeed. Their decision to run away together and leave France far behind had been an impulsive one, but one that barely needed spoken agreement. Leo, his brave, beautiful, strong knight, sees him like no other. And it is the same the other way around.

In the kingdom, Bastian was the only person with whom Leo had shared his secrets. Perhaps this was because, since early adolescence, they had essentially grown up together. They were not bound by the rules and expectations that a prince and a knight would normally follow. They were different, always had been.

So, it was only Bastian who Leo came to, to share his secret. This was a secret not a single other living person knew, and a secret Bastian had intended to fight to keep to his grave:

Leo was a woman.

Well, he was a woman only in the sense that his body was female. In all other respects, he was Leo, who had always been a boy, now a knight. He had told this to Bastian many years ago, when they were still adolescents and the weight of the world and all its expectations had not yet come down on them.

It was fun, for a while, keeping the secret. Now, it’s dangerous. Now, only they two can know.

Bastian had stopped denying his love for Leo a long time ago. What would be the use to deny it, when it burned so fiercely? He only hoped that Leo shared these feelings, though he was afraid to ask. He was not the brave one of the two of them…

They shared a certain carnality for each other that was undeniable. The first time they made love was when they were still within the kingdom, hiding who they were in the shadows, always keeping an eye on the door. They would meet in the stables and lay together there on the few nights a year that they had the chance.

Now free, unbound, they made love frequently and without guilt.

Of course, this came with its own consequences.

In the tavern’s cheapest, darkest, and most isolated room, Bastian continues to pace. He steals glances at Leo, afraid that if he stares too long he will break with guilt for what he’s done to his love.

Leo is also pacing, though much slower and waddly. As he waddles, his head drops forward then back, his long red hair shifting to cover his face. His expression is hard to make out in the dim candlelight, but Bastian can detect the hint of tightness between his brows, though Leo’s hair once again covers his face, and he can see it no longer.

Leo is still wearing his white linen tunic that he wears under his clothes, which once was long enough to go down to his knees. Now, it’s the mound of his belly that lifts it up and stretches the fabric taut, lifting the hem to the point of his hips. Leo’s hands are supporting the small of his back as he breathes very deeply and slowly with intention, closing his eyes to concentrate against the pain.

He has swelled very large in the last several months. For a time, the life within him went entirely unnoticed by both Leo and Bastian. Leo is not a small man, though he is not large either. He is slightly taller than average and very lean, with narrow hips. His muscles, of which there are plenty, are unique in that they hide so well beneath his skin, one would never know that he is a war-seasoned swordsman.

Perhaps it was his thinness or the tightness of his abdomen that made the mound invisible for so many months. Now, though, it has practically spilled out from the front of his body, round and low over his pelvis, with a popped-out bellybutton that is strangely sweet to behold.

Bastian’s eyes unwillingly take him to Leo’s belly and he can’t help but stare. It tightens inward with each wave of pain, which it seems Leo is having now, and it is honestly fascinating to watch. It pains Bastian, though. Really, he feels useless.

Leo has been labouring well though, all things considered. That is, it’s his first time and the two of them don't know enough about childbirth.

How careless Bastian has been. It is his fault Leo suffers now.

His eyes on the floor, Bastian hears a slap and looks back up to Leo, who has just batted the old lady away from him as he moans and breathes.

They had picked up an old woman in this town, a few hours after the onset of Leo’s labour. Or rather, she picked them up. She had seen them in the town’s stables, Leo moaning and clutching his belly, though he tried to hide it beneath his thick winter clothes, and had known instantly what was going on. She asked no questions, just took them along with her and got them a room in this tavern.

She did everything with an odd indignance, as if chastising Bastian and Leo for being stupid children. Bastian’s first impression of her, if he’s being honest, was fear. In all aspects, she resembles a witch. A bent back, long knobby fingers like twigs and overgrown, scraggly white hair. She even has some sort of wart or mole on her chin. She is the picture of witches in the fairy tales Bastian’s servants read to him growing up.

But as far as he can tell, she is not a witch. She had told them that she could help, that she is a healer and midwife, and of course Bastian immediately accepted. They didn’t know what they were doing, and certainly needed help.

Leo, on the other hand, had not been so welcoming to her. In the past, he often dealt with pain by putting it somewhere deep inside. Bastian, still, is the only person who has seen Leo vulnerable, the only person who could ever treat his wounds and who Leo felt safe around.

“Old witch,” Leo had privately called the old woman, with a twitch to his mouth, when she had gone to get water from the well and they were safe inside the room. Bastian had barked a laugh.

Then when she had returned, the old witch had put a wrinkled hand on the top of Leo’s belly. He had drawn back, his hands protective over their child, but the old witch had kindness in her eyes as she told him, “She will be beautiful and fearsome.”

Leo and Bastian had both been in a state of shock. “She?” Leo had asked in a quiet voice.

The old witch had only smiled with her eyes.

Bastian knows that Leo is still convinced it will be a boy. Bastian tries not to put thought into it, because thinking about it would then make it real. He tries to stay present in the moment, to make himself useful in any small way he can, though it is so hard to see Leo in pain.

The thing is, he has seen Leo in pain, many times. His knight is a valiant fighter and protector. Too many times, it was Bastian who would patch up Leo’s wounds or offer a damp cloth for his head when he was tired after battle or after protecting Bastian outside the kingdom.

It’s all Bastian can think to do now, offering a cold cloth for Leo’s head.

He takes it, still waving the old midwife away. He puts the cloth over his face and inhales, and Bastian watches quietly as the midwife surprises him by backing off.

He only notices then that she has mostly honoured Leo’s wishes. It is clear that Leo does not want to be touched or spoken to, and that he will only let Bastian assist him. The midwife, though they all know that the time is coming for her to be more hands-on, stays back and simply busies herself by stoking the fire in the fireplace and hooking a pot of water over it.

Hours pass like this. The only way Bastian can tell the time is by the notches in the candles around the room. The midwife replaces the shorter ones too.

Hours crawl on until it is deep into the night, and Leo’s labour takes him all around the small room.

He is free to move as he pleases, though Bastian knows he is still keeping so much control by not making loud sounds. There’s no real reason why he should be quiet beyond the fact that Leo does not like to be seen in pain. That, and the owners of the tavern had not been notified that one of their lodgers is in labour.

And it’s real, now. Leo labours hard, pacing the room, leaning on the baseboard of the creaky bed, then finally kneeling on the floor, rocking forward and back as each pain causes him to moan and growl lower and deeper.

Bastian knows it’s coming soon, then. He kneels on the floor next to his knight, who is still working hard to get through this one pain.

Bastian makes himself useful by gathering Leo’s hair into a twist and moving it off his neck. It’s so long and soft, so orange and beautiful. Bastian adores every part of him, even the deep grumble of his breath as he leans down into the floor, hands like claws on the boards.

Finally, Bastian finds his voice. “Leo,” he whispers, “you are so strong. I’m with you. I’m right here with you.”

Leo surprises him by grabbing his wrist, pulling him down with him as he grunts a little bit tighter, pressing his bottom down into his heels, his head tucking down and all his long hair spilling loose.

Bastian scoots in front of him, both of them kneeling on the floor, so Leo can grab his arms. The sounds he’s making are different than before.

“If you feel a lot of pressure,” the midwife says from across the room, “you can push down with it.”

Leo slumps forward then with his first real grunt, tight and deep. It seems his body commands him to do it, as it just goes on and on and on and he’s unable to get a breath. All Bastian can do is clutch his arms and Leo clutches his, and bite down on his tongue as he steels himself for what is to come.

An eternity later, it ebbs away and Leo is able to gasp in a breath. He grabs at Bastian’s arms, his nails biting his skin.

“My prince,” he gasps, ignoring the midwife, “I-I need to push. It’s time. I have to…”

Bastian looks quickly to the midwife for help, his heart jumping in his throat.

“Try it,” she says. “Push down with the pressure.”

But he doesn’t, not consciously. His face is pinched in fear and strain, his cheeks pink, as his knightly instincts command him to look to Bastian for direction.

His body does it for him then, forcing him to squeeze down, groaning tight in his chest. Bastian holds him fiercely, sweating just watching.

“Ican’t…” Leo garbles out as he’s bearing down, his teeth bared. Then the tightness releases him just enough to grunt out, “I have to– UHH! Oh, GOD! My prince, I need to push!”

Bastian takes his hand this time, prying Leo’s rigid fingers from his tunic. “Then push, Leo,” he says. “Only you can do this. Trust your body, and push.”

One heavy breath, then two, a fearful, brave moment of eye contact. Then wondrously, Leo doesn’t resist it. He bites down, clenching his teeth and closing his mouth, and sends it all the way down into the floor, and then it’s happening. This battle into the unknown.

Bastian remembers Leo telling him once, that before he decided to become a soldier and eventually was knighted, he grew up on a small farm. He had assisted ewes in the births of lambs; he's no stranger to animal birth. At the very least, he knows the strength and determination that it will take to push.

Bastian, on the other hand, is in over his head. His only anchor is his knight, and so he puts all of his trust and love into Leo, simply following his will and his body’s urges. It is only Leo who will be able to bring this baby out.

It’s coming now. It’s coming.

After those first efforts and Bastian’s words, something in Leo visibly changes. He is emboldened, focused, ready to go headfirst into the pain like a bull.

He rips off his tunic, now damp and stained with his labouring sweat, and takes charge of the pain. There is no fear in him as he exposes himself fully naked with the midwife in the room, something he never would have done before this, and he lets the pain flow in and out.

Bastian knows how it is in Leo’s mind. Leo hardens himself with the same fortitude as he does before heading into battle.

Pushing does not take much adjustment. Leo simply follows the will of his body as it commands him to bear the child down and out. The sounds he makes go from powerful and guttural to almost mute as he concentrates.

Countless minutes are spent where Leo goes into a sort of up-down rhythm. He stands up, planting his feet firm and wide beneath him, and pushes quietly with his knees bent. Then he comes down and squats wide, his hands still on the tops of his knees, and continues to push that way.

He goes up or down according to his own will, holding each push for a while before it bursts airily out his lips. His efforts seem big to Bastian, though he expects Leo to be louder so he looks to the midwife for guidance.

She does not linger her gaze on Leo, knowing he doesn’t like it, but every once in a while she looks over and nods, speaking soft words of encouragement. She is busy sanitizing linens in the pot of boiling water.

Leo is upright as another pain comes on, and he puts his hands on the tops of his thighs as he bends down and open like he’s sitting in the air. Then with a big breath in, he closes his mouth tight and visibly tightens as he bears down.

His skin is so pale, Bastian marvels at how quickly Leo’s face, neck, and chest turn red with his effort. He holds it for only a few seconds, his eyes squeezing shut, and Bastian wants to encourage him but cannot speak.

“Bwuh,” The effort bursts out of Leo. That is when Bastian gets his bearings and sits in front of his love, offering his shoulder for support.

Leo takes it immediately as he locks in for another push, unable to speak, balling up Bastian’s tunic in a fist on his shoulder as he squeeeeezes down, opening his legs more.

Bastian gets a full view of his belly and crotch, the skin of his belly tightening and going in. It looks hard to the touch. Compelled by love and overwhelmed at the sight of Leo in such pain, Bastian puts his hands on Leo’s belly and feels the effort with him.

“Buhh” Leo expels airily, then tries to breathe slowly. His belly drops back outwards, but Bastian had felt something shift within. The mound is still hard; Bastian knows Leo is not done with this one.

“Breathe,” he tells him anyway, and Leo does.

Then Leo bends forward and over Bastian, spreading his legs wide and bending his knees down, and Bastian puts his hands on Leo’s hips to support him. Bowing over and leaning his head on Bastian’s shoulder, Leo grips Bastian’s biceps and holds down hard. Bastian can feel the strength of it against his own forehead, which is pressed to Leo’s big hard belly.

Both of their eyes are closed, just feeling it together. Leo is so strong, doing so well, Bastian has to hold back his tears as he feels Leo’s belly tensing, tensing, tensing, and something tumbling beneath the surface.

That is them, their child. And Leo is working so hard to get them out… Bastian is terrified to think about it, but as he feels their little feet kick against his forehead, he finds himself leaning into it, making his touch known.

Then Leo has to let the pressure out with an airy, “Dhuuhhhhh,” still against Bastian’s shoulder, and Bastian feels him gasp right away and bear down again. He squeezes Leo’s wide open hips, keeping him upright as he trembles and dips down just a little more and more.

Then something incredible happens. There’s an audible pop, then before Bastian can understand what’s happening, a huge splash of warm water all over his lap.

Leo expels with a sudden and strained sound, his legs shaking. The midwife is coming closer, assessing the waters it seems. Bastian is beside himself, panting as if he were the one pushing. Leo leans back, and it seems his body is finally giving him a break. They look at each other, and there’s fear there, but there is also bravery, determination, love.

Leo puts his hands on his belly and rubs down and up, both of them looking at their child. His eyes are so soft and glassy, the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks as he pants, and he’s smiling.

It’s then that Bastian knows Leo will fight with his life for their child, and the fight begins here. He loves him.

The skies spill hail while Leo regains his strength after this pain. It is loud against the roof and the window sill, though not as loud as Leo’s breath as he trains it to calmly come in and out, filling his entire body.

The midwife gives him water to drink, which he takes. The three of them know that this is where it begins: they are just at the threshold of the real hard work, and Leo needs every bit of strength he has.

When he needs to push again, he goes away from Bastian and retreats into himself, focusing. He stands, gripping the baseboard of the bed and spreading his legs wide as he bends down into it again.

“HHhhhhrrrrmmmmmmmmhh………..” he grunts into it quietly, a rhythm, one push after the other. He is a warrior, barely stopping for breath, trying so hard to work with his body and the baby.

Bastian’s only view of him is from the back, his red hair already clinging to the tacky skin of his back in clumps and strands. He has already worked up a sweat, and when the candle flames flicker just right, Bastian can see beads of it roll down Leo’s thighs and ankles.

“Is he feverish?” Bastian asks the midwife, trying to keep his voice calm.

She has no reaction to his little slip-up. It’s likely she has already heard Bastian refer to Leo as ‘he’ or ‘him’. Never once has she inquired or judged. Bastian feels that she already knows, and does not care.

“No,” she tells him, “it is just effort. Birth is hard work.”

It certainly is. Bastian had no idea. He tries not to get stuck in his head feeling guilty for doing this to Leo, as he watches Leo labour and sweat.

Of his own accord, Leo lets go of the baseboard and resumes a squat on the floor. This time, though, he leans his back against the end of the bed and leans back on his bottom, pulling his shins wide open and back, causing his feet to lift off the floor.

He must be truly in the throes of it then, Bastian realizes, because he’s exposing himself completely to the room, to the midwife who stands near Bastian.

Nothing can be seen of the baby just yet. Leo grunts as he bears down, his belly hardening and pointing, but his opening remaining unchanged.

He grunts hard as he pushes now, very focused on some invisible spot in the room which he squints at, crunching up his face and baring his teeth. With every grunt, he pulls his shins open and points his crotch up to the ceiling, curling in.

Leo’s next grunt is louder and more guttural than the last, and Bastian has to take a step back. He looks at his knight, naked and red in the throes of labour, his legs crunched up on either side of his distended belly and his teeth bared in a horrible grimace, and he can’t resist thinking anymore, I did that to him.

Bastian gets stuck thinking this, just standing there as Leo throws his head back and shoves his shoulders down with another push.

It’s happening now, and there is nothing Bastian can do to stop it. Nothing he can do to ease the pain or help bring their child out. If he could just get a hand in there and pull the child out, he would. Hell, if he could push it out himself, he would suffer double the hours and pain of Leo’s labour if it meant Leo could just rest.

Leo’s next grunty release startles Bastian into action. He goes to his knight as Leo pants and pants, still holding his shins, his legs folded up so tightly his feet aren’t touching the floor. He just pants, exhausted, as the midwife whispers calming words: “Good, you are using all your effort now.”

“Leo,” says Bastian. His own voice is shaky and foreign to his ears. “You want to hold my hand?”

But Leo is already grunting down again, spreading his trembling legs just a bit wider as he manages a tight and grunty, “Icanh…….” He holds it, holds it, holds it, and Bastian looks down at his opening.

He’s a bit shy, but still he looks. Leo is spread so open it’s almost lewd. But this is childbirth, Bastian supposes, the truth of childbirth. Past Leo’s wiry red pubic hair, it seems there’s a bulge, like the head of their baby is knocking at the door. He’s not opening much, not from what Bastian can see, but as he holds down the pressure harder and longer, the bulge presses outwards, beginning to stretch his swollen tissues.

Leo startles Bastian by releasing with a “GNUUHHH!!” and the bulge dips right back in. Leo pants hard.

Bastian manages to get his bearings. He brushes Leo’s stringy hair off his forehead and says, “Breathe, sweetness… Slow down and breathe.”

Panting, but trying to slow his breaths down, Leo slowly lets go of his legs. They stay open, but floppy, his feet now on the floor.

The midwife saves Bastian from feeling useless by instructing him to sit on the end of the bed behind Leo. This way, he can help hold Leo up as he pushes.

He does, and first puts his hands under Leo’s arms before he realizes this is uncomfortable for Leo who needs to use his arms. Instead, he puts his hands the other other place they can go, covering Leo’s breasts from the midwife’s eye. His fingertips brush the hard top of Leo’s belly as he makes it to the end of another push, grunting tight and loud.

He’s working hard now. The candlelight is dim, but Bastian can see the big slope of Leo’s belly, how it crunches in with each long and loud grunt, and Leo’s wide open legs, his curled toes which lift off the floor.

Bastian leans down over Leo’s shoulder, hugging him and cupping his breasts tight, and now he can see Leo’s opening from this angle. He’s curled so tightly, he’s practically exposing himself to the ceiling while still tucking his chin down into his chest. There is not much to see yet, still, but Bastian swears as Leo grunts hard one more time that he can see his tissues beginning to bulge out.

“...ggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRUHH!” Leo grunts out, and his tissues and belly relax. “Fuck. Oh, no…” he whispers, and Bastian realizes he’s trembling.

Bastian thinks Leo is done, but the midwife comes to sit in front of Leo and speak to him.

“Do not fear,” she says. “You can go into it stronger than that, just let your body guide you.”

Leo gives one small push, but it does seem that he’s done.

Then a knock at the door startles Bastian and he looks over. Leo is so into it, so tired, he doesn’t seem to react.

The midwife holds up a hand and groans as she gets to her feet. She only opens the door a crack, and there are whispers.

Bastian tries to lean in to see, but he cannot. The midwife is standing between the room and whoever is at the door, blocking anything from sight. If she were to open the door all the way, surely Leo would be seen. The bed is up against the wall at the head of the small room, the door on the side wall. The foot of the bed is practically in front of the door with how small the room is. No doubt they can hear Leo panting.

Thinking quickly, Bastian grabs the bed linen behind him and drapes it over Leo’s naked body. His legs are still parted, but he’s put his feet on the floor.

Bastian presses his lips to the salty skin of Leo’s temple, soothing him and whispering comforting words to him, rocking him a bit.

“Doing so well, just breathe now,” he whispers, and Leo does.

“We heard a concerning noise and wanted to see that everything was alright,” one of the voices says at the door. It’s then that Bastian recognizes it and the other voice along with it as the brother and sister who own the tavern.

“I have someone labouring in here, but everything is just fine,” the midwife explains.

Still rocking Leo, kissing his forehead and cheek, Bastian trains his ears and hears one of them gasp. He can imagine their fearful expressions. He leans down further, kissing and nuzzling Leo’s cheek, smelling him, and Leo brings a hand up to bury in Bastian’s dark wispy hair, leaning his cheek into Bastian, nuzzling him back.

“We will get a doctor for you!” the brother says at the door.

Kindly, the midwife tells them to fuck off, which startles a laugh out of Bastian.

Then Leo’s breaths pick up, and Bastian can feel the top of his belly harden under his fingers. Feet planted and relaxed on the floor, Leo opens his legs more, holding his belly. He whispers, “‘scoming…”

And Bastian can’t find it in him to care any longer about the people at the door and their muted discourse. He rubs the skin of Leo’s chest, presses his lips into his cheekbone as Leo grabs his shins and his belly points down as he bears down hard.

“Strong,” Bastian whispers into his ear. “Push as hard as you can, Leo, c’mon.”

He grunts good and hard with it, tipping his face back this time so he can hear Bastian’s encouragement in his ear.

“Good, good, bring him out,” Bastian whispers.

The voices at the door insist on getting a doctor one more time, as the midwife tells them that the person labouring knows what to do, and that she herself has delivered hundreds of babies.

“GGGGGGHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUHHHH……” Leo grunts deep and tight, his wide open legs trembling.

The midwife slams the door then and turns back into the room, giving Leo space.

Leo gives a few more hard pushes, each with a crackly and prolonged grunt. Every time he releases, all the tension drops out of his belly and legs, going a bit floppy, before he steels himself and shoves down again.

It’s obvious Leo is getting tired. As Leo rests, Bastian covers his eyes with a cold damp linen and keeps his hand there, kissing his cheekbone.

Bastian looks at the midwife as she goes around the room lighting incense from somewhere in her pack, and he asks her if everything is alright.

“Yes, everything is normal,” she assures him, her voice flat as if she’s bored, or maybe that is just how she talks. “Just be patient. It takes a lot of strength and time to push a baby out.”

Bastian flushes at the prospect that she would think for even a moment that what’s making him restless is impatience. He will hold Leo through every pain as long as it takes for him to get their child out. But he doesn’t correct the midwife.

This goes on until one of the shorter candles burns out, Leo going from being curled up against Bastian’s legs to leaning over the floor on his hands and knees.

Eventually, he gets on the bed, and Bastian knows his role by then. He sits with him, always close to him, whispering to his brave and strong knight, his love, to keep working and push,

and push,

and push…

Every release is dizzyingly loud and hard, speaking to the immense effort Leo is exerting each and every time.

“UUHHRRR!” he grunts out, the sound high and strained at first and ending very deep and guttural. Then he just pants, gripping the tops of his thighs as he sits on his heels, facing the headboard of the bed.

Sitting behind him on the bed, Bastian can do nothing but rub his hand up and down the back of Leo’s shoulder, and he feels the tension under his skin as he breathes hard and fast like an animal.

It sounds like Leo’s body commands him to push, as the urge catches him in-between breaths and he tenses with a very tight and grunty, “Hhuh–”

“Well done, Leo,” Bastian whispers, still holding his shoulder as he trembles severely, his skin reddening. Then, after at least twelve seconds, Leo releases with a very strained sound: “..........UHHH! Please…”

“You are amazing, Leo. Keep pushing if you have to.”

And Leo does, breathing into it and preparing himself at first. He brings his fingers down to feel, sighs out his air in an almost frustrated way, then readjusts by sitting up on his knees more, opening his legs as much as he can in that position.

Then, to Bastian’s surprise, he reaches back and flaps his hands until Bastian laces their fingers together. He sits up on his knees behind Leo, mimicking his pose, and Leo whispers the count of two to himself before he grips Bastian’s hands and shoves down with a hitch of breath.

Bastian can feel the effort in his own body as Leo leans his torso slightly forward and down, crunching down towards his belly but still kneeling upright and gripping Bastian’s hands with such force that Bastian winces.

He feels a bit stupid as all he can say is, “Oh, Leo.”

Then the inevitable release: “.............................UUUURRRHH!” A huge inhale. Then he just grunts horribly the whole time he pushes. “UUUUUUUUUURRRHHHHH!!” Another. “UUUUUUUUURRRRRHHHNNG!!” Hard and deep and powerful, each time bearing down with his entire body, raising his shoulders as he gasps and sending them down hard and fast with each gigantic push.

Across the room, the midwife has been busy replacing the candles again. She seems so unbothered by Leo’s noises while Bastian doesn’t know what to do with himself. He tries to absorb some of her calmness, tries to comfort Leo by kissing the backs of his shoulders. His skin is salty with sweat and so warm. His entire body is hard and shivering with the pain and effort.

Leo’s next release is a grunty scream, his hands clammy in Bastian’s. “GNAAOOOWWMYGOD—” Then, already pushing hard, so strained, “............got..g’ttagetitout……..uururrrrRUUUUHHHHGOD!!”

“You are strong enough,” the midwife says from across the room. “Visualise yourself opening for the head and push the babe down with all your effort.”

“Ngh…” Leo grunts, “...ngI’mtrying…”

“Push the babe down,” she says again, her words calm and slow. “Open, open.”

Her words seem to work for Leo, because he gives hard and silent pushes one after the other, raising his face this time and Bastian can just about see his horrible grimace.

“.....................................................DHUHH!! …Shit. It’s burning.”

“That’s good,” the midwife says, coming closer. “That’s good, that means the head will soon come. You’re pushing well.”

“I-I-I can’t breathe,” Leo pants. “I need a minute. I need…”

“Take a break,” the midwife permits. She comes with a damp cloth and leans over the side of the bed to wipe Leo’s face, petting away his stringy red hair as he pants and gasps loud and wild, his hands still intertwined with Bastian’s behind him.

“Breeeeeaaathe,” the midwife reminds him, then shows him how to inhale deeply through his nose.

Slowly, Leo’s body begins to relax, and he lets go of Bastian’s hands to lean forward on his elbows, moaning and swaying his hips side to side. Bastian gets a view of his bottom raised in the air, but he still can’t see their child’s head yet. If any of it was poking out while Leo was pushing, it sucked back in.

Instinctually, Bastian begins massaging up and down the long length of Leo’s back as he keeps breathing and moaning and swaying, opening his pelvis. Leo is so lost in his own world, but it seems like it feels good.

The next time Leo gets a pain, there’s no warning. It seems to catch him off guard too, as he’s still on his elbows with his head way down, his hands clasped on the sheets in front of his head. He just tenses his back, and Bastian can actually feel each individual muscle hidden beneath the skin as with a little hitched grunt, Leo bears down hard.

He leans his bottom back and down as he pushes, so Bastian can’t see his opening. Leo’s bottom is touching Bastian’s legs, as Bastian still kneels upright behind him, and Bastian can feel him tremble. He can see the exertion, because Leo’s skin from the back of his neck to his middle is turning a violent red, his head down and beginning to tremble so hard.

Then Leo releases with a loud grunt, and he raises his head to gasp in as the midwife kneels down over the side of the bed and puts her hands over his, still above his head.

Just as she whispers, “Huge push,” Leo shoves back again, trembling even harder, his body somehow stiffer and his back absolutely shining in the candlelight, the sweat pooling in the long dip of his spine and the dimples at the small of his back.

He gives a few very big pushes for this one, almost screaming out at the end of each one. He thumps the mattress with a fist as he breathes too fast, complaining of a burning sensation once more.

Then for the next pain, he gets himself upright again, but shuffles towards the headboard this time so he can grab onto it. He moves according to his body’s will, and ultimately comes up in a deep squat, still facing away from Bastian with his hands gripping the headboard hard.

The midwife tells Bastian to press on Leo’s hips as he bears down, so he makes himself useful and does just that. He sits on his heels, pressing his palms firmly, and rests his cheek on Leo’s slick shoulder blade as the pain comes yet again. Leo does not have much of a break anymore.

“—UUUURRRRRITHURTSSOBAAAAAAD…………..”

Leaning over his sweaty, rigid shoulder, Bastian can see Leo’s big belly flex inwards between his wide open trembling thighs, his bellybutton poking out. Leo is incredible.

Bastian whispers into his shoulder and neck, feeling himself grit his teeth and wince too, “It’s there, beauty. Push hard.”

One after the other, Leo rocks down to push hard and long, with big loud gasps in-between, filling his lungs so his belly expands before tightening inwards.

“..............UUUURRRRHHHHN!!......................................................UUUURRRRHHHHYEAH–..........................................................OUUUHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh……”

All the while, Bastian encourages him into his shoulder, moving to mutter into his sweaty red-hot cheek, pressing his lips to his skin, “Goodgoodgoodgood Leo, you are strong. You are incredible.”

Leo’s head is loose on his neck, either going back over Bastian’s shoulder with a push or crunching forward. This time, as he gears up for a very big push, Leo crunches his chin practically into his breasts, gripping the headboard so hard it creaks as he roars.

“Good, push your baby,” the midwife says. Then she tells Leo that when this pain has passed, he’ll have to move. “You need to open. In this position, you will push your baby into the bed and that won’t be very helpful.”

Leo, who is definitely not in the mood for jokes, tells the old woman to shove it up her ass.

She takes this with grace, though Bastian blushes and looks at her apologetically. Then she reaches out and tells Bastian how to help her move Leo.

The midwife suggests he squat on the floor, but Leo follows his body and comes to stand next to the bed, leaning over the mattress and dipping down and up as he breathes evenly, opening his legs wide.

There is an air of intensity in the room as everything seems to have kicked up a notch. It’s close, Bastian can sense it. Not much longer now. Soon, Leo will finally be able to rest. His beautiful, loyal, strong knight…

Bastian looks at Leo, his knight, his love, labouring hard, and he feels his throat tighten. Leo is the picture of effort. He’s bent down, his quivering legs spread open and his knees bent, his fists trembling with effort in the sheets. His teeth are bared, eyes squeezed shut into tight wrinkles as he grunts hard and high.

Bastian and the midwife, who is sitting on the floor behind Leo, both keep quiet as Leo works hard.

It bursts out of him with a deep, animal grunt. “MNGUUHHTHEHEADIS– SOBIG–”

“Keep going,” the midwife coaches. “If it gets to be too much, just breathe it down.”

There’s no way to know if Leo hears her, because he’s still pushing. God, it looks so hard. His face is beet red and shiny with sweat, his hair plastered over his skin in knots. He has an expression on his face that reminds Bastian of constipation, and he guesses the sensation is really not too different.

“That’s good, that’s good, I see hair,” the midwife says. Then as Leo bursts his air out and seems to bear down even harder, twisting his fists in the sheet with that horrible expression worsening on his face, she says, “Oh, lots of hair.”

Bastian is beside himself, his heart thumping out of his chest as he watches his love work harder than anyone.

The sounds and faces Leo makes would be embarrassing, but he is so beyond modesty, embarrassment, and privacy at this point. Nothing in the entire world matters more in this moment than pushing their baby out of him and into the world, and he puts every drop of effort he has into the task. Bastian wonders if he’s even aware of the expressions, sounds, and secretions his body is making. It wouldn’t matter. All that matters is that the midwife sees hair!!

Bastian jumps back into action, putting his hands over Leo’s which are still tangled in the sheets.

“Push, sweetness, you are almost there. You are so strong, so brave. You are my pride, my knight. I know you can do this. Push.”

Leo had gotten at least two good pushes in as Bastian was talking to him, and it seems he’s done now, truly spent for breath. He puts his red cheek on the bed and his gasps for air sound more like exhausted shouts, as he flinches and a tear drops from his tightly closed eyes.

“Where is he…” Leo croaks out, truly spent, as Bastian brushes his hair out of his face. Bastian leans down to kiss his cheek and forehead as Leo still keeps his cheek on the bed, panting and heaving and animalistic.

“Not long now,” the midwife says softly.

Leo heaves out his air, then he suddenly raises his head and makes a quiet pained sound, almost like panic.

“He’s–he’s– ohh-h, why is it going back in…”

Bastian puts his hand over Leo’s fist on the bed as the midwife explains, “The babe’s head has to rock in and out to stretch you. Just let your tissues relax, let your bottom relax. Every time you push, you bring the head out little by little.”

“Every time,” Leo repeats, like he doesn’t believe it. He’s exhausted, dazed, putting his head back on the bed with his eyes closed. He has the strength to hold Bastian’s hand, though, and that is enough.

“Reach down and feel the head next time,” the midwife says. “Feel how it comes down when you push.”

Leo seems afraid to touch, possibly for the same reason as Bastian. Touching the head, feeling it, means it’s really coming.

But, brave as always, he does. He keeps his head on the bed and puts his hand down there, feels around for a moment, before his eyes snap open and he looks at Bastian.

“Is it there?” Bastian asks him, and only then realizes there are tears in his eyes.

Leo nods. “He’s right there.” Then his face crumples in a grimace as he grits out, “Iwantitout—.....” before he gasps, shouting. “Hoh! Oh! OoohhhitBURNS! Is’toobigIcan’t……”

The midwife tells him to wait for the urge to push, to not force it out. She tries to tell him it’s important for him to stretch, but Leo is in it. It’s impossible for Bastian to tell now whether he has a pain or not. After feeling the head, he’s sure Leo is ready to keep pushing hard until the whole baby is out.

And so he dips into another vicious push, baring his teeth, his face turning completely red and the vein in his temple bulging out.

“---OH! Ouuhh..hohh…” and his body commands him to bear down extremely hard again, of its own accord. “Ouuhhhhhhhh……..hhhhhyesohyesohyesohyesouuuhhhhhh……..” Then he releases with a huge breath, panting hard and loud. Bastian can only put his hand over Leo’s which still grips the bed. Leo’s other hand is still between his legs, waiting and supporting as he pushes the baby’s big hard head into his own palm.

Chin on the edge of the bed, Leo begs, voice wrecked, “Pull’mout! Aoh, God!” And as the midwife is saying, “We can’t it is all you!” Leo shoves back, almost in a squat now, as he grabs the edge of the bed with both hands and extends his arms, his knees touching the outsides of his elbows, and roars down, his head trembling severely from the effort.

“Yeeeeesssssss, yesyesyes, exactly there!” the midwife cheers, the first big smile appearing on her face. In a strained voice, she coaches, “PUSH! PUUUUUSH!”

Leo garbles out a scream then, coming more upright and standing in a crouch over the bed, still gripping the sheets with so much force they rip. He’s pushing his bottom back towards the midwife, who has her hands supporting his opening, though Bastian cannot see. He only sees Leo’s beet-red screaming face, the tendon jutting out of his throat, and his bare breasts dangling down as he pushes so hard he gags with it.

All Bastian can say is, “It’s coming, Leo, you are almost done!”

Then with barely a breath, Leo forces down with his entire body, clinging to the torn sheet on the very edge of the bed, going down into more of a squat so the midwife has to scoot back more to see, as he strains deep and hard and guttural, gritting his teeth up to the ceiling.

“HHHRRRRRRRNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGG…..GH…GH..GH…………”

“Yesss, good work, you’re stretching,” the midwife says to him at the tail end of the push. Then, “Alright, let’s get you on the bed now. You, open those shutters! He is burning up.”

Belatedly, Bastian realizes she’s talking to him. His arms and legs are tingling and his head light as he leaps up from the bed and stumbles to the window across the room. Behind him, his love grunts again, so hard and tight and deep down in his core, and he hears the midwife telling him to just breathe, just breathe.

“I’mtryingI’mtryinghe’scomiiinnngggg….” Leo grunts as Bastian’s shaking hands finally get the latch on the shutters open. He flings them out and they bang against the outer wall. The sky is beginning to lighten; it’s almost early morning.

It’s a small window, but any window is large enough to let out all the sound in the room for the whole town to hear. He will worry about that later. Now, he needs to be with Leo.

It’s as he’s having those thoughts that Leo, behind him, starts to push again. It’s a hard and gritty sound, totally involuntary, and in the middle of it he says, “Mnggrrrrrrrrmyprince–.....”

And Bastian snaps into action, turning back into the room to run to his love. “I’mcomingI’mcoming, I’m here with you!”

He doesn’t even see where he’s going, just runs with the only goal of getting to Leo’s side. But the midwife jabs him in the side and he blinks down.

“You,” she says, “come look! Look at your baby’s head!”

Bastian does.

Leo is lying horizontally at the foot of the bed now, his legs spread open so wide his thighs are flat. He’s keeping them that way, gripping underneath his thighs. The midwife, in a gesture of kindness, has thrown the sheet over Leo’s breasts, though most of his belly is still exposed, a mountain of tight and sweat-slick skin. Between his thighs, nestled within his wiry red curls, is a wet dome.

The midwife had pulled a stool over the floor to her side, where she has a dish of butter balanced, some damp linens, and a holder with several candles. It’s this light that allows Bastian to properly see…

Leo’s opening is stretched to an almost impossible degree, unrecognizable to Bastian’s eyes. His folds are pulled back, the skin taut, to make room for not a sliver, but a wide circle of curly, wet hair. It’s a little wrinkly, and definitely not out to its full circumference, as Leo’s tissue is bulging out around it, proof that there is more within. But it’s there. A head! There’s a little indent in the shape of a circle at the tip of the scalp, from when Leo must have been stuck trying to push it past that stage.

Bastian feels a sob bubble up his throat as the midwife brings the candle closer and gently pulls on a little curl so he can see the colour.

Their baby has red hair.

My baby… Bastian thinks, awestruck and speechless. A whole person, half him and half Leo, the love of his life…

“Tell Leo what you see,” she says.

Bastian goes to Leo, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed so he can lean over and brush Leo’s stringy hair off his forehead. “He has red hair,” he says, his voice damp with tears.

It’s after this moment that Leo goes quiet, drawing into himself and summoning the last bit of strength he needs. Bastian keeps quiet as Leo concentrates, breathing into the urge to push their baby to a crown. It’s coming. So soon.

The pain takes a long time to come, and Leo touches the baby’s head to embolden himself. It hasn’t gone back in this time. Bastian watches, and sees that it’s surprisingly squishy, likely mostly scalp and not skull. When he’s done feeling, the midwife takes a clump of butter and starts applying it to Leo’s tissue around the head. Then Leo’s belly hardens, and it’s finally time to push.

He means business right away. He hooks his elbows under his knees, lifts his torso off the bed to crunch in, and forces down with a hitched grunt.

Immediately, the head bulges forth, pushing at the tight barrier that is Leo’s tissue. It is not that he’s not strong enough; far from it, he’s pushing with every fibre of his being, turning completely red, veins poking out of his skin. It’s that his tissue is tight, keeping the baby’s head in place in a ring.

Bastian whispers to him to encourage him, holding him up beneath his back. “Push… push… push, it’s coming out more!”

It is! The head pushes and pushes, jutting out and back in just a bit as Leo’s strength wears out, taking his tissue with it, and then Leo grunts out hard and falls back to the bed. The head goes back to where it was, but just a fraction of it is more visible.

It goes on like this, Leo pulling his legs back and pushing pushing pushing with every ounce of his strength, the baby’s head bulging out and taking his tissues with it, and Bastian expects Leo to tear clean open, the head bursting out. But that doesn’t happen. It’s a slow, burning stretch, and Leo uses all of his strength. No stopping now.

“A crown!” the midwife cheers as Leo drops his head back to the flat mattress, straining and grunting, his grip under his thighs slipping due to the sweat pouring off of him.

The midwife is trying to help him stretch, using small linens on either side of his opening, gently stretching the tissue back and open. She regularly reapplies the butter, which is beginning to clump in their child’s curls.

Leo is indeed burning up, staying so red and sweaty, so Bastian wrings out a cold cloth and puts it over his eyes. Leo is just a grimace then, blind under the cloth, as he crunches his chin into his neck and reaches down to grab the bottoms of his feet.

He doesn’t put his feet together, but pulls them wide open and back, his arms extended out straight. His legs tremble so hard, his toes curling over his hands as he white-knuckles it, giving their baby a good long shove each time. The head stays at a crown, moulding around Leo’s tight tissue.

He doesn’t even grunt out at the end of each push. He’s too focused, pushing much too hard. Every release is a quick and quiet hiss of air through his teeth, “Tihh,” before he takes in a huge gasp right away and goes again.

Bastian begins to fear that Leo cannot get past this stage. He finds himself retreating into his own mind against his will, the sight of his love in such pain and effort so overwhelming.

He cannot be sure, but he thinks he can pinpoint the time they made love that resulted in this child.

They had been on the run by then, in their shared tent in the night, well off the beaten path. The fireflies had lit up the grasses outside their tent and, awestruck, they had pulled the flap aside to see.

Bastian had been staring at Leo, which he had not noticed he’d been doing. There was something about the fireflies’ light that made the strands of his red hair glow, like embers.

Bastian had been touching his hair, tucking it behind his ear, and Leo had leaned in to accept a kiss. Then Leo had climbed on top and Bastian had slipped inside. They rocked together, humming and sighing in bliss and freedom.

That’s right; It was the night they ran away together.

Leo’s beautiful red hair fans out on the sheet around his head as he falls back against the bed, still managing to hold on for their child, his eyes still covered by the cloth, his skin red as a beet and his teeth bared like an animal, trying so hard…

He’s pushing more frequently but not as strong, and his pains are slowing down.

Finally, Leo releases the last of his effort with a breathy grunt, and he tips his head back, gasping and gasping, his chest heaving under the sheet. Sweat rolls off of him in the candlelight.

He’s let go of his feet, but he leaves his legs to fan out wide open against the bed. His bottom is on the edge of the side of the bed. If he were to extend his legs, they would simply fall over the edge.

The midwife is telling Leo to breathe deeply, to get his strength back, that the head is almost out. She doesn’t seem too worried.

Leo talks to him then, his voice a ragged croak. He says his name, and Bastian looks down at him as Leo removes the cloth from his face, blinking weakly up at Bastian.

“I can’t…” he says, “I cannot do it… I’m sorry, my prince… I tried.. so hard…” He turns his head to the ceiling then, and a tear slides down his temple. “I am sorry for not having the strength…”

And Bastian has heard enough already. He gets close, finding Leo’s sweaty hand and gripping it fiercely.

“Leo,” he says, “of course you have the strength. He is right there, you said it yourself. It’s just a little more effort and you’re done, I promise. I will never, ever let you hurt like this again.”

“I thought I could do it…” Leo groans, looking away as another tear slides down. “I wanted to keep your baby safe—”

“Our baby,” Bastian corrects. Leo looks up at him silently, and he says it again. “Our baby.”

“Leo, listen,” he speaks quietly and intimately, his heart hammering out of his chest, “you could never disappoint me. You could never fail me. We are free, now. I will ask just two things of you now, and then never demand anything again, and that is to push…” He gulps, fixing his grip on Leo’s hand. “...and that you let me stay by your side. I love you, more than anything in this world.”

And there it is, that bravery and light returning to Leo’s beautiful eyes. He assesses Bastian’s face, really drinks him in, and his breaths become laboured.

It is all the motivation he needs to hear in his life.

With a heave of a breath, Leo grabs under his knees, pulling his legs so wide open he could split in half, and he throws his head all the way back against the sheet, hitching his shoulders down, hitching his belly and his hips and every last drop of strength inside him, to puuushhh their baby’s big head out.

Bastian sobs at the sight, seeing Leo’s effort and the way their baby’s head juts out. “Oh, push, my sweet love. Push with all of your strength. You have it.”

“Steady,” says the midwife, as she gently flexes the baby’s scalp as it comes forward. “Steady…”

Bastian is mute with awe. Leo pushes their baby’s head out so beautifully. Every second slows down to a hundred seconds. Their little redhead’s wrinkly scalp trembles out with Leo’s effort, and the midwife keeps pressure around Leo’s tissue which has the head in a vice lock. His skin is so red, stretched beyond belief, but he still has not torn.

Steady, steady, out comes a forehead, facing down to the mattress and slightly sideways. Bastian leans in to see, and it looks like a little old man with its wrinkles.

Leo is still keeping that same push going as then comes out the baby’s brow, then their little crunched eyes, and out pops a tiny nub of a nose. Bastian knows he’s crying loudly as, with massive effort, Leo pushes out the baby’s lips.

Here, Leo releases with a huge breathy grunt, unable to hold it any longer. Bastian is still watching their baby’s head, so he sees how it dips back in just slightly, not quite fully out yet. Leo must think he’s done because he’s panting.

“Come on, now,” the midwife says as she wipes some goo off the baby’s face, “one more push.”

Bastian steals a quick glance at Leo’s face as he’s gearing up for another push. Leo is in another world, his eyes closed and his head thrown back, exposing the long length of his throat. His skin is completely red and shining in the candlelight, his red hair thrown about the sheets around his head. Leo gasps in once, and Bastian looks back down at their baby’s head in time to see Leo’s hands on the undersides of his knees grip hard again, his nails white, and he makes a sound like, “HUP—”

“Big big big big…” the midwife mutters.

It takes little effort at all. Compared to the rest of the night, it is nothing. Leo holds down hard, his body and raised feet trembling and his pelvis slowly widening more, and their baby’s head trembles out, out, and out comes the chin with a squirt of blood and a huge burst of air from Leo.

It’s out! The whole head! Bastian sobs, not knowing what to do with his hands. He kisses Leo’s forehead, but Leo is still in another world.

His battle is not over yet.

Bastian has seen Leo in battle. He has seen him swing a sword with the strength of several men. He has seen him stumble back from a battle with arrows piercing his armour, seen him pull a dagger from his own flesh, seen him ride into the fray on his horse, head high in bravery, and he has seen him keep that fortitude after so many unspeakable horrors.

All of that is nothing, nothing compared to the strength and effort he exerts to give birth to their child.

Every fibre of his being, every single muscle in his body is used for those long, long moments it takes Leo to push their baby's shoulders from his body. He hardly makes a sound, but for a barely audible, tight groan deep in his throat that just keeps going. Bastian frantically looks from Leo’s face to their baby’s slimy head as his love just keeps that gigantic push going.

It is incredible to watch. It is the most intense moment of his life. A look back at Leo’s face shows that he is deep red and puffy, veins absolutely popping from his neck and temples like roots, but his expression is completely calm. His mouth is closed and curved in such a way that it’s almost like he’s smiling. His head is tipped back all the way, almost upside-down, and his shoulders are lowered as he concentrates every morsel of strength in his body down.

Down and deep, incredibly long and hard without break. Bastian watches as the midwife’s wrinkled hands don’t even touch the baby. His little wet head turns, and there is his little purple face already grimacing. Bastian can feel himself pushing, helping his love grunt down, as their baby’s chubby shoulders begin to appear, and the pouty lips open with a wet gasp, and then the baby slides and trembles out.

It’s not fast. Shoulders, then elbows, then belly and cord, and the baby is already crying and gasping wetly, then his little hips, and Leo is done, he can stop pushing now, but he’s still pushing. He still pushes harder and longer than he ever has and ever will in his life, his legs shaking horribly and his grunt getting louder behind his closed mouth, until the entire baby is out, little feet and all. Then a massive grunty burst of air rushes out of Leo and he lets go of all the tension in his body, and the baby hiccups and starts crying, and Bastian is sobbing.

Their baby is pink and slimy and wiggly and shrieking already as the midwife turns it over in her hands and puts it right on Leo’s deflated belly.

Leo uses the last of his strength to rip the loose sheet off his chest, still moaning and gasping loudly as water and blood pour out of him, his hands open to accept their child. It takes him long moments to come back into his body as he lays there gasping, his eyes half-open and darting around the ceiling, his legs still wide open.

Bastian can’t speak, he’s crying so hard. The midwife is rubbing the baby with her bare hands, trying to get it to keep crying, and it does, gurgling and spitting up some mucus onto Leo’s blood-streaked breast.

Looking at their baby, Bastian realizes how small it is. Now on the outside, in the world, it does not seem so gigantic. It is chunky, for sure, with big chubby purple cheeks and fat rolls on the arms and legs. The baby is swollen and bruised from birth, but Bastian drinks in every detail of their little face. Their little nostrils, their impossibly tiny fingernails, the curve of their ears stuck against their big coned head, their wisps of long, wet red hair!

He is all at once overwhelmed by the bone-deep urge to wrap his body around his baby and protect them with his life.

“You did it, you did it,” he hears himself sob as he brushes Leo’s hair back, kissing his damp forehead. “I love you so much, you did it. You can rest now, my darling.”

Finally, Leo looks down at the baby on his chest, hovering his hands over the elongated head and the little wrinkly back. In his euphoric state, he rubs the baby’s flesh, sighing and sobbing himself, and then he lifts their little chunky thigh.

His glassy eyes go wide, and he says, “Oh!”

“Oh?” Bastian’s throat tightens.

But Leo looks up at him in shock, and his bottom lip wiggles as he says, “A girl! We have a girl!”

Bastian sobs again, practically falling over his little family. Outside the door, he hears the voices of the tavern siblings cheering, and then some. He laughs.

“Bastian,” Leo says in his ear, “I love you too.”

And Bastian hugs him tighter, careful not to crush their baby, dropping kisses to her little head and kisses all over Leo’s sweaty face as Leo laughs.

The midwife is congratulating them, telling Leo he did a very good job. She’s doing something with their girl’s cord, checking for a pulse, possibly.

Leo cranes his neck up to see her. “What is your name?” he asks her.

The midwife smiles a toothless smile at him. “Yvette,” she says.

“Yvette,” Leo repeats, dropping his head back to the mattress and gazing down at their baby girl. “Yvette…”

And all at once, there she is. There they are, the three of them. Free.

END.

186 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 15 days ago

Note

Imagine in the dead of night whilst the parents are sleeping, unbeknownst to them only in the next room are two brothers making love.

The younger brother sobs in pleasure and pain as his older brother spreads his legs and pounds him into the mattress.

9 months later, the older brother sits in the living room with his father quietly with a beer as they hear the younger brother’s screams of labour upstairs.

“Noooo!! Aaarghhh it’s cominggg! Arghhhhh!!!”

The father snorts at the screaming before taking a swig of his beer.

“God he’s a screamer, serves him right for spreading his legs.”

On cue the sound of a desperate wail is heard.

“ARGHHH IT BURRNNNSSS!! I’M TEARING! FUCKK!”

He labours for 50 hours straight and the older brother secretly delights in his younger brother’s pain at the birth he caused when he fucked his brother nice and deep.

gahhhh i would LOVE to be the little brother in this scenario<3 i would be hysterical in pain lol

37 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 15 days ago

Text

Love a pretty boy birthing in the middle of the night. The hospital is quiet except for the pants and groans of one of the omega’s in the birthing room.

The room is shrouded in darkness, besides the operating light between the omega’s pretty little quivering legs.

The poor thing pants and groans at the doctor’s soft spoken and firm demands. He tries to lift up his head to see between his legs only to be obstructed by his engorged stomach, he can only see gloved hands gently holding his legs open, he sees the doctor’s bloodied gloves holding a needle before he feels it being jabbed into his hole.

The omega keens as his head collapses back onto the bed, panting in overwhelming pain and emotion. In the darkness he can feel a gloved hand gently soothe back his messy sweat soaked locks, whilst they gently hold onto his face, an oxygen mask being placed over his nose and mouth.

The doctor’s voice rings out again in the darkness, firm but comforting at the trembling and naked omega in the table.

“Gentle pushes now… there were go..”

The omega took a deep breath and pushed, his choked screams echoing in the quiet birthing ward.

53 notes · View notes

ilikechheeese · 17 days ago

Text

Kinktober: Day 14: Blindfolds

Andi finally worked his way up to his first sponsorship. His streams were consistently getting hundreds of viewers when he went live and he was contacted by a company pushing their new pay-to-cast pregnancy vials. The pregnancy vials came with an enchantment pad that magically imbued spells into the liquid, allowing someone to tailor or randomize their pregnancy experience.

What Andi didn't know was that the sponsorship list was leaked by hackers and everyone's lives were being bombarded with donations and extreme spell requests, making the streamers go through hours of endless agony to have the most extravagant births.

Andi was excited for his first sponsor and told his viewers he was going to keep with the theme of his bdsm account and give birth while blindfolded and restrained as well.

Andi started the livestream and blindfolded himself. He placed the vial on the enchantment pad and it immediately began to be magically imbued by donations, unable to see the massive uptick in viewers giving donations to the magical vial.

He played with himself on the bed as a warm-up, waiting for the donations to flow in, hearing the vial swirl with every new spell cast on it. He started with one of his largest dildos, placing it to his cunt and thrusting inside, stretching his hole.

"Mmmmmm, got to get myself ready for this. I can hear how you're filling the vial, I'm getting excited for this evening."

After the warm-up, Andi reached out his hand to feel for the vial and sat back on his bed against preparing the magical cuff restraints. He placed one arm into the cuffs, leaving his free hand to hold the vial.

The cuffs were set to be automatically released when he was done laboring from the magic vial. The enchantment pad also worked as a sensor that determined when Andi was done with labor and would deactivate the handcuffs. The cuffs were set for a maximum of 12 hours, but Andi was typically over with his streams in just a few hours, never reaching the maximum.

"Bottoms up!" He swallowed the vial and placed his hands in the cuffs, feeling them instantly lock into place.

The magical concoction flowed into his stomach and Andi immediately tensed and started yelling. "Fuckkk-aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! It burns!"

Andi's body morphed before the viewers. His tdick elongated and turned into a pseudo-penis, his ass turned into an ona-hole and an additional cunt grew inside. His actual cunt grew massive inside him, elongating and bloating his belly outwards. He tried breathing through the changes, but his body was morphing faster than he could keep up with.

"Oh god! What's happening now? what did you pay for?!"

The boy's belly filled with eggs of various sizes and textures. The rapid labor spell activated, contracting his belly, squeezing the eggs towards his multiple holes. But a zero dilation spell worked against him, holding the eggs inside him, his birthing canals tight and still, refusing to release any of the eggs.

Andi shook his head back and forth, "Oh fuck! It hurts so much! How many holes did you guys give me?!" He gasped when his belly button popped out, "Ohmygod, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I wish I could see how full you made me, I feel huge!"

The eggs deformed Andi's stomach, making him groan and pant. Then, his belly visibly contracted, squeezing the eggs from the outside.

"Ahhhhhhhh! I'm starting labor now?! Already?" His belly was still trying to grow with eggs while it was contracting, "SHIT! How many eggs did you put in me?!"

He panted in the bed, straining, the pressure building inside him with nowhere to go.

"Oh god! Oh GOD! They're coming!! I want to pushhhhhhhhhhh—FUCK! It hurts!"

The boy strained against his bonds, pushing, breathless. His back arched, trying to get him leverage to push. He still was not dilating.

"Arrgggghhhhhhh–everything hurts so much!" He pushed, but his body spasmed in protest, his birthing canals still clamped shut. "There's so much pressure! Am I��ahhhhhhhh—really in labor?" His stomach spasmed. "Nothing's moving!!"

Andi labored for two hours, eventually breaking down into tears from the pain, sobbing against his lifted arms, still held in the restraints. He was at a zero dilation, the eggs pressed against his hips, bruising his pelvic muscles. But his holes held tight with the anti-birthing magic, holding his waters back, letting the eggs batter against his insides, leaving the boy with no progress.

"Please." Andi choked on his tears. He pushed weakly, but nothing moved downwards. "Get out! I need them out." With his hands restrained, there was no way he could reverse the vial pregnancy using the enchanting pad or even call a friend for help.

The stream was still live, he could hear the sounds of the donations increasing the longer he labored. He never let anyone know what city he lived in, there was no way anyone in his chat was going to help.

He screamed and pushed, but nothing happened. "Whyyyyy-hhaahhh-aahhhhhhh?!" His belly was tight and huge, his skin stretched thin around the large eggs. "Whyyyy won't they move?" His contractions continued, increasing the pressure on his poor tummy, squeezing the eggs downwards and onto his sore pelvis. "Please! It hurts so bad! I need them out!"

Another contraction gripped his belly, ripping another howl from his throat. He pushed as hard as he could, but nothing moved inside him.

Andi labored for an additional four hours. By then he was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, his body overheated and cold from the air. His entire being was focused on the mass of eggs inside his stomach, unwilling to budge.

"Please!"—sobs—"I can't."— sobs—"I'm trying"—sobs—"so hard and I"—sobs —"I can't get them"—sobs—"to move!"

Andi whimpered with every contraction, letting his sobs shake his belly. He didn't have the strength to push anymore, the eggs a relentless and powerful pressure against his holes. His entire groin was throbbing from the pressure.

At exactly the sixth hour, the zero dilation spell wore off and Andi's holes fully dilated in a matter of seconds.

"AaaaggghhhhhhhhhHHHHHAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE! NO! NOOOOO! I'M BEING TORN APART!!!!! STOP!!! STOP ITTTTTTT!!! I CAN'T TAKE THIS!!!"

The eggs started making progress towards his exits. He widened his legs to make room for the eggs, but his hips were on fire from the stretch of multiple eggs trying to be born at once.

"Wait! What the—" he flung his head back against the restraints like he was electrocuted. He gasped for breath, "NO! No, no, no" —gasp—"STOP!!" An egg was moving out of his new cock, slowly traveling along the underside, stretching him open. "FUCKKKKKKKKK! IT FUCKING BURNS!! GGGUUUUUGGGGHHH!!" It traveled up his cock and to his tip, spreading him open. "NOT THERE! IT WON'T FIT!!!"

The egg crowned, holding his tip open for a few seconds before popping out of his dick, falling to the bed with a wet plop, his cockhole gapping, dripping open. "No! Please! I can't do that again!!! Stop! Waitttt! No!" He tried to squeeze his bladder closed like he was holding his piss, but it only made the pain worse. He flinched in pain when the next egg pushed its way through his prostate and into his cock anyway. "OH MY GOD!!! AAAEEEEEEEEIIIHHHHH It burns! It burns! Oh my god, it's so big! No not again!! I can't!!"

The rest of the eggs were making their way out of his holes and he writherd in the bed "Fuck! They're ripping ME APART!!"

Andi screamed for five minutes straight as the eggs moved into his birthing canals, stretching and filling him. His asshole was widened by two large eggs, one from his anal tract and another from his new womb. Both eggs were fighting to exit first, making his asshole gape open. The egg in his cunt was crowing, held inside by the extra pressure from the eggs in his ass. His cock was birthing egg after egg, making him convulse in pain every time an egg pushed through his prostate.

"NO! I CAN'T! I'm going to tear! They can't fit! There are three eggs, I can't, I can't!" But the eggs were making their way out of him regardless.

"My pussy is tearing!!!! HHHHAAAGGGHHHH." The boy was stretched in a ring of fire around the egg, his legs quivering with the effort, his cunt elongated and stretched around the egg as it left his body. "AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! It hurts!! IT HURTS!!! IT WON'T FIT!!!" He opened his legs even wider and pushed, holding his breath to get more leverage. The egg inched out of his hole and he chanted, "get out, get out, get out" until his face was red and blotchy.

The egg popped from his hole and fell to the bed. Immediately, the two eggs in Andi's ass rearranged in the additional space and started spreading his hole wide and pressing out.

"FUCK!! NOOOO! NOT NOW! STOPPP!! I CAN'T BIRTH TWO AT A TIME!!!! GGGGGHHHRRRRGHTHHHH"

Both eggs were holding his hole open and moving at a snail's pace out of his hole. In the meantime, another egg was pushing against his cunt, just behind the two in his ass.

"GET OUT!! OH MY GOD THIS HURTS SO FUCKING BAD!! MY ASSHOLE IS GOING TO TEAR, IT CAN'T TAKE THIS!!!! AAAHHHHHHHH!"

The eggs moved and held him open at a burning crown, his hole red and inflamed from how stretched it was. "I"M ON FIRE!! IT'S KILLING ME!!! THE EGGS ARE TOO BIGGGGGGHHHHHAAHHAHH!!!"

The eggs pushed out, holding Andi open at their widest point, making the boy screech and damage his vocal cords. The eggs shot out of his ass, cracking into the one from his cunt. The boy sagged against the bed, wheezing in pain.

Another one in his cunt started crowing and the boy sobbed. When he went to scream this time, his voice was broken and raspy, "Fuck, my pussy hurts! I'm still so sore from the first one! How many eggs are there?!" The egg popped out with a sob from the boy, "I can't do this, I can't, I can't, I can't."

Eggs left the boy against his will for hours. His face was covered in snot and tears, his voice was gone by the end, his cries were hoarse and miserable, begging for the birth to be over. He begged for the eggs to slow down, for two to stop coming out of his ass at once, for the eggs to be done. But the eggs ravaged his holes, spreading and stretching him raw, uncaring about his tears or begging.

Three hours later, Andi felt something was wrong. It had been nine hours since he drank the vial and there was still no end in sight. The eggs had slowed down, coming once every few minutes now. He could feel the birthed eggs piling up between his legs, but his belly was still so large, there were still so many eggs left inside.

"I think something is— AAAHHHRRRRHGHGHG—WHAT IS THAT?! His belly was contracting again, like it was earlier in labor, squeezing his belly, pushing his belly towards his spine and squeezing the eggs towards his exits.

"Why NOW?" His belly squeezed. "FUCK! These contractions hurt so much WORSE! What's going—" he choked, body freezing, eyes wide, whispering "no."

His belly continued to contract, rippling and tensing, creating a tight dome in front of the boy. His breathing was shallow, his body sweating as he attempted to lay still. He moved his legs open even wider, pulling his knees up towards his chest, around his distanced belly, nearly in the splits.

"Stop. Please. I can't." Andi looked scared.

On the next contraction, he flung his head back and howled, his voice cracking and shrill. He closed his eyes and pressed his chin to his chest.

"THEY'RE COMING!" He flung his head back. "OH GOD, THEY'RE HUGE! OH MY GOD, THEY ARE GOING TO SPLIT ME IN HALF!"

More eggs could be seen crowing at the boy's pussy and ass. He gasped in his bonds, "I can't do this, they are too big, they are too fucking big, they'll never fit, I'm going to die, I'm going to DIEEEEEGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

The one in his cunt pushed out, opening his hole. It was three times the size of the previous eggs. "MY PUSSY IS BREAKING!!! IT'S TOO BIG!!!" The egg slowly made its way out, holding Andi open in the widest crown of his like. "IT CAN'T FIT, OH MY GOD MY DICK IS TEARING!!!"

The egg was protruding out of Andi's pussy, bulging his crotch. His asshole was elongated, an egg could be seen just inside, but the egg was so large that it was pulling his groin forward and stretching the base of his dick.

"No! No! No! NO! My pussy's too wide, stop, it's stretching my dick!!" The egg in his cunt continued to push out of the boy, dragging his cock and asshole with it. "OHMYGOD NOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAHAHHHHHGGHHHWWWHHHHHHHH." The massive egg held his cunt open at a crown. His lips quivered, his legs trembled. The eggs at his ass started bulging his hole open and eggs filled his stretched cock. "IT BURNS!! IT BURNS!! IT BURNS!! IT BURNS!!!!"

The egg crowned and Andi struggled to engage any of the muscles in his over-taxed cunt and tried to push. With a massive effort, Andi pushed and the egg moved in painfully slow motion, before it quickly burst out of his hole. The egg fell on top of the large egg pile, crushing the eggs below it. "Fuckkkkkkkkk. That hurttttttTTTTT—AAAAHHHHHHGGG!!! The eggs! FUCK!!! More eggs are coming now. I CAN'T TAKE IT!!!"

The base of his dick had stretched so far, two eggs started pushing through Andi's prostate. He convulsed against the bed, limbs shaking with overstimulation of feeling his prostate absolutely stuffed and tenderized. The boy humped his hips, trying to get away from the feeling or chase it he didn't know. More eggs moved into the birthing canals of his cunt and ass. The two eggs moved up his dick, his cockhole dripping and inflamed from being stretched so far. "NOOOooooooooo!, I can't…" Andi pushed the eggs out with a sob.

"Everything hurts!! it hurts so much.." He sobbed in his restraints, his upper body tired and hanging limp in the bed. His legs pulled open, the muscles on his thighs clenched so tight they were numb.

The massive eggs at his ass were pushing against his hole and all Andi could do was moan. "Please. Noooooooo. I can't do this anymore! I can't! It hurts too much."

But the eggs pushed, holding his hole open. Andi gasped and cried in his bonds, wishing he could at least change positions from laying on his back, the double ass birth agony on his spine and hole.

The eggs moved towards his exit and Andi took a breath and pushed, "Ahhhh—aaahhhhhhh—aaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHWWWWW. The eggs are too big! I can't do this!" The eggs crowned, making his hole shiver and throb. "I can't! It's too much! I can't! I can't!" The eggs crowned at their widest point, "Oh my GOD! MY ASS, THE EGGS ARE DESTROYING MY ASS. OH! MY HOLE, IT BURNS SO BAD!!"

The eggs took two minutes to finish crowning through their ring of fire and push out of Andi's hole. "Oh my god my ass hurts!!! I'm never going to be the same, it'll never heal from this. Oh my god, it fucking hurts!!!"

Another large pushed against Andi's cunt and two more pressed into his prostate. "EEEEEEEAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!" His holes gaped open, his canals throbbing from the slide of more eggs. "How many more eggs are there??!!!!!"

Andi continued to labor for another three hours. Birthing larger and larger eggs through his holes, trying to help push when he had the strength. His holes felt like they were being torn apart. He never stopped screaming.

The largest eggs were as wide as bowling balls. Andi sobbed, body tired and limp, tears flowed down his face and all that was left was for him to beg for it to be over, "Please. I want them out." The eggs crowned and held his flesh open. Tears flowed down his face, "They're so big, I don't think I can—aaaaawwwwwhhhhhhhhh"

An egg crowned at his cunt, his legs held open in nearly the splits to make room. "It hurts! My hips! It can't fit!" His hips were bruised and sore from being held open so unnaturally wide for so long. He sobbed as the egg continued to push through his body, crowning out of his hole. "My pussy is BREAKING! IT HURTS so fucking BAD!"

The egg crowned to its widest peak, making Andi take gasping sobs, "Please!!!!" —sob—"its too much" —sob—"I can't push anymore!!!" His agonized hole shook with the effort to birth the egg. It slid out at a slow pace. "It's destroying my pussy!! PLEASE get OUT!!"

Finally, the egg popped out, only for another of the same size to align with his asshole.

Andi broke down in tears, sobbing, his flatter belly shaking with every sob. Every sob increased the pressure inside him, squeezing the eggs. "It hurts….." —sob—"everything hurts!!! Please, I can't push another egg out that size." The egg in his ass started to crown, pushing his hole open against his will. "I can't…please, it's too much…I can't push in my ass anymore, please, it won't fit.."

Andi birthed another four of the massive-sized eggs before he hit the twelve hour time limit. Andi was in the process of crowning a fifth egg through his cunt when the timer ended and the enchantment pad beeped, indicating the end of the session.

The restraints holding him to the bed disengaged. The eggs in his belly and cunt disappeared and Andi was released. His cunt spasmed around the loss of the hard egg, gaping open squeezing around air.

Andi laid on the bed where he was released and sobbed for a few more minutes, decompressing from the unexpected experience.

The donations in his steam were flowing in. When Andi finally found the strength to lift his head and look at the stream on his computer, he saw he had more viewers and donations than all his other streams combined.

There were comments telling him how hot the scene was, expressing disappointment in not seeing him birth the last egg, asking him when he was going to do a stream like this again. Andi nervously laughed and said his goodbyes to the camera. The chat was disappointed that he wasn't going to jack off after that, but Andi was done with the stream for the night.

In his dm's was a message from the hacker group that bombarded his stream, letting him know that if he ever wanted to do a stream with a pregnancy vial without a time limit, to contact them.

Kinktober 2024

31 notes · View notes