#labor dynamics

[alwaysbewoke]

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Egyptian Tomb

In Upper Egypt, a remarkable discovery has emerged that may reshape our understanding of ancient Egyptian society.

Archaeologists have uncovered a tomb at the historic quarry site of Gebel el-Silsila, dating back 3,500 years, offering a unique glimpse into the lives of those who played a crucial role in building Egypt’s iconic monuments.

This buried tomb transcends its function as a burial site. It acts as a window into the lives of the quarry workers and their families during the 18th Dynasty.

The unearthed remains of women and children indicate a thriving community in an area known as Kheny.

Analysis of the skeletal remains reveals evidence of injuries and chronic back issues among adult males, underscoring the harsh realities faced by these ancient laborers.

Nevertheless, this discovery also prompts a reevaluation of previous beliefs regarding the labor dynamics in Ancient Egypt.

[painfullypregnant]

Big Boss

((Contains: Gender neutral carrier, labor inducing sex, public birth, slight humiliation and clothing birth))

I ignored the dull throbbing in my back and abdomen as my boss drilled into me, cock wide and heavy. My belly that usually swing with his violent thrusts was now still and solid as he slammed into my baby-cradling hips. I smelled the celebratory alcohol that was heavy on his breath while he leaned in and began to pump in and out of my bruised hole at a breakneck pace.

At this point in my overdue pregnancy, I could barely keep up. I breathed deeply to cope with the pelvic pain that multiplied when he invaded my pussy. I was so late and begged to be induced over a week ago but he denied my desire for birth and my time off request when I began to feel like I could lay down and push at any moment. I followed his every command despite my desperation, and he relished the control he had over me in my most vulnerable moments.

It was made abundantly clear that I'd give in to everything he wanted or else there would he consequences. Not physical, but financial.

Things hadn't always been this way. My boss was a humble and kind man when the company first started. The team was close knit and felt more like a family than anything I'd experienced at other jobs. It was a delight to work here until we went viral and blew up overnight. The public excitement for our projects meant money. More than any of us had ever seen in our lives. Soon enough, my boss was worth billions and the wealth spread to the rest of the team.

We'd been so happy but the more we grew, the more changes I saw in my boss. I knew he always had a crush on me, one I did not return in the slightest but we remained good friends even outside of work. He made his advances more obvious and frequent. I began to grow concerned, as there was no HR department for me to report to if anything happened. He was HR.

The day came where I was called into his office while preparing to head home and the way he looked at me as soon as I entered told me everything I needed to know. It was like a large, starving dog staring down a cut of fresh beef. I dreaded what was to come but was more surprised when he spoke.

"You know, I really appreciate the work you do around here. This company owes you a lot."

"Thank you, sir." I said while trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

"I think you could be so much more. And work is getting a bit hectic up here at the top. Would you be interested in a... promotion of sorts? CFO, perhaps?"

CFO? That can't be... It would triple my net worth and it would only grow from there. I'd be set for life after working a single year but as excited as the proposal made me, I was skeptical at the same time. There had to be a catch. There were other men here who were far more qualified than I was to be his second in command.

"That would be lovely but... what would the requirements be?"

He dropped his head and chuckled before looking back up at me with those piercing eyes. "Remember that talk we had a while back at the New Year's party?"

I narrowed my eyes, genuinely stumped as to what he was referencing.

Then it hit me.

Instead of telling the truth, I continued to play dumb. I truly prayed this wasn't going where I thought he was taking it. "I'm afraid I don't."

He must've caught my bluff because he stood from his desk and walked up to me with languid steps. "C'mon. You really don't remember? That thing about me wanting to be a dad and the babies?"

My heart was in my ears. This couldn't be happening.

"I'm sorry, I really don't remember much from that night and we were drunk and–" I went silent when he held up large hand, looking annoyed.

"You remember." He was telling me. And I did but I wish I hadn't.

"Is there a reason why you're bringing this up."

"You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?"

"I want you to give me a baby. No. Correction. You're going to give me a baby."

I was feeling too many things at once. Frustration, fear, arousal, anger. The latter bubbled over everything and I began to snap at him for using my drunken confession of my fetish against me in such a way. "With all due respect, I'm not some incubator or a dog to be bred."

"Was I asking you?"

I closed my mouth. He's not going to say it. He won't.

"If you want to continue working at this company, you're leaving this room pregnant tonight."

And just like that, I felt the walls close in around me. Sure, I had a desire to be pregnant. The idea of being stuffed with another man's seed was riveting but I'd hoped that man would be someone I chose. Someone I loved and agreed to settle with. Not my boss who was currently dangling my future over my head.

Then the arousal took hold. My boss was a big man. Much larger than me at 6'3 and 300lbs. of fat and muscle. I'd always dreamed of carrying big. I was merely 5'1 and knew taking his seed would mean being weighed down by a huge baby in the end. And it was a fantasy of mine to carry and birth a large child as my first.

So I nodded.

He took me over his desk and the morning sickness came within weeks of him dumping fat, hot loads of cum against my cervix. He continued to fuck me insane almost every day. I enjoyed it. More than he did until I entered my final month and the pounding never slowed down.

What remained a fantasy for him was now a complete hell for me. I was constantly cramping, tired, and leaking from somewhere. One day it would be my waters, one day it would be my tits, some days it would be neither or both. The babe was big in my hips. I leaned back and swayed when I walked around the building. False labor took hold more frequently and the post-orgasm contractions were beginning to drive me insane. I was completely out of womb and his child fought against me as it grew to a size my body could no longer accommodate. There were constant bulges around my belly. He'd rub the lumps under my skin and growl at how his load was becoming too much for me to handle.

The more I cried from his baby's head bouncing on my cervix, the harder he went. Two nights before, I was confident that I was in labor after our end-of-the-day session. He ushered me into his car and we rushed to the hospital, all the while he talked about how ready he was to see me scream and bulge around the head of his child as I sobbed through violent contractions in the passenger seat.

We were both surprised to be sent home shortly after I was examined.

Even though I felt and looked like I was on the verge of childbirth, the doctors confirmed that I wasn't open enough for the baby to come, but if the sex continued (they definitely noticed his cum in my hole as they checked my dilation), I'd be laboring very soon.

As excited as this made him, I noticed he was more careful and halted the sex due to an upcoming event I was needed for.

We were announcing the launch of our latest project and presenting concepts of a few others in the works at a major tech expo that would be live streamed and viewed by millions. He wanted me to be the one to introduce our ideas and pass the mic off so he could elaborate on the subjects. He said he wanted everyone to know I was involved and give me credit for some of the things we came up with but I knew there was something else behind it.

My suspicion was confirmed as he took me in his drunken state after the pre-expo party. His breath was on my neck and in my ear as he thrusted hard. All he could talk about was how excited he was for the world to see what he'd done to me. For them to see how painful and fat with child he made me.

"And as soon as we're off stage I'm gonna fuck you." The thought made him fuck me faster. "I'll fuck you until you're begging to push."

I was manhandled from the hotel bed to the bathroom where he continued to rock in and out of me. He came for what I hoped was the last time, trembling and shaking profusely as he cradled my contracting belly with huge hands that dwarfed mine. He stayed inside my hole after he came and groaned as the contraction squeezed him. I grunted in pain and pushed on his hips as a signal for him to get out, and he did to my surprise. A bit of water followed his cock when he pulled out, but not enough for a full rupture.

We showered together and he passed out as soon as he hit the bed. I silently labored throughout the night. There were a few times when I tried to wake him and let him know the baby was on its way but he'd growl and turn away from me.

I thought for sure he'd wake up to a soaked bed with me moaning around the head of his child but my cervix and waters held overnight. I felt so weak from the lack of sleep by the morning but I had a job to do.

I was the first one in the bathroon to prepare for the day. A contraction had me bent over the sink when he finally entered and paused to admire the state he put me in. I didn't even know he was there until I felt his hardness against my ass and I gasped, pushing his hips away again with my hand.

"Please." I begged, unable to take any more sex with the head of his child so low and ready to be born. "Please, I can't."

"Relax. Don't have time for it anyway and I can't have this one coming out before the presentation."

I was slow to get ready and needed help getting into my outfit. I cursed every god there was for the store not having elastic waist slacks in stock when I went shopping for something to present in. The pants I got were slightly too small and the belt I wore cut into my lower belly, adding to the pressure.

We were in the elevator on our way down to the conference hall when I yelped and clutched my belly. He glanced at me without moving his head and asked in annoyance. "What's wrong with you?"

"I've-I've been having birth pains since last night." I was trying so hard to sound like I wasn't blaming him but he smirked and chuckled to my surprise.

"Was it that good?" He laughed even harder but I couldn't fathom joking at the moment. The pain grew and a new feeling came with it. The urge to push. My boss must have seen it on my face and the way I grasped the crotch of my pants. "We'll be done in no time. Then we can go to the bathroom and you can scream it out in the toilet for all I care."

The elevator dinged and he started walking out before I could finish my plea for a replacement. He was severely underestimating everything I felt and paid no attention to the condition I was in. The entirety of his mind was on this expo. Everything else would come after.

He paused just as he stepped into the lobby and let me lead. I knew he just wanted to watch me waddle and grunt through waves of other people, my ripeness and discomfort on full display for everyone to see. People looked and pointed at me with concerned expressions. I was embarrassed walking around in such a state but my boss loved the looks I got. He nodded and smiled at everyone who stopped to observe my gravidness.

I thought we'd never make it to the back stage room but we did. My feet and back were screaming as I stood there badly hunched over my oddly shaped belly, desperately looking around for a place to rest. Someone must have noticed because a younger man ran over to me with a cushioned chair and gestured for me to take a seat. I thanked him as I began to lower myself down but the head shifted when my legs spread and I grunted loudly while clutching my rock-solid belly. I lifted it to move the weight of the baby off my poor hips as I squatted down further onto the chair.

It felt so good to finally be able to sit and just let my belly hang. I sat there contracting and squirming for the better part of an hour before I was called for final touch ups before I went on stage. It took ages for me to haul my overly pregnant body off the chair and waddle to the proper station.

My boss made his frustrating with how long it was taking me to walk known but I ignored him as a lightning bolt of pain shot through my body. I threw my head back and moaned loudly, nearly giving in to my body's demand to force the baby out. One hand clutched my crotch while the other frantically rubbed at my back and belly for any bit of relief I could get. My legs shook violently as I kept myself from falling to the floor. I rolled my hips as best as I could and began whispering as I breathed deep.

"Whooooa. Hooooo, baby hold on. Hold on for me, please. Hooooooo. Hoooooooo. Ohhhhhhh the head."

When asked if I was okay by one of the interns, I opened my mouth to tell her I needed to give birth but my boss beat me to it. "Hey, they're fine. Worry about your job."

The intern frowned. "Let me get you some water."

"I said they're fine! And there's no time, they should be on stage already." I was not fine and would, in fact, kill for a cup of cold water.

I tried one last time in vain to tell him how close I was, and that it was urgent. "The baby's really coming. The head... I'm gonna pu–"

"Alright, go! We'll deal with it later."

An older woman was the one who prepped my ear piece. She looked down at me with a sympathetic frown as she adjusted it so I could hear any commands I was given from my boss. I could tell she'd been through this before by the way she began to coach me through the contraction I was suffering. "Breathe. Just breathe and go slow. Try to hold that baby in, you just gotta be up there for ten minutes."

I didn't feel like I had ten minutes in me. This baby was coming NOW. I didn't even register her whispering to another worker next to me because I was so lost in the fog of childbirth.

As soon as it ended, it was time.

My boss gave my ass a pinch and I jumped before walking out on stage. Thousands clapped and cheered when they saw me. For a split second, I was distracted from the fact that I was in full blown active labor and smiled as I began my intro. Throughout the entirety of the presentation so far, I was on autopilot. I had practiced this in my sleep and it was rehearsed several times at the office.

And then something in me snapped. I jumped and let out a small gasp when I felt the sharpest pain in my cervix. I stared off into space and blinked rapidly as I felt my body push in earnest without me. I paused for a few seconds longer than I wanted to and I heard my boss's voice through the earpiece. "The AI? Did you forget already?"

I was fighting the urge to grab my belly and moan when his voice cut through everything and threw me back into the presentation like a robot. But this time, my mind multitasked. I was still on autopilot but another part of my mind was on the baby I was about to birth in front of millions if I didn't get off stage right this instant.

I felt a trickle run down my leg and knew my waters would go at any second but before that could happen, I finished my part of the presentation. The crowd erupted in applause and I looked towards my boss who couldn't be more proud. And I was close to relief. All I had to do was call him up and that would be it. I could run into the bathroom and give in to the pure instinct that was screaming for me to lay down and have his baby right here.

"And our CEO will tell you the rest." I ended with a trembling smile that no one seemed to notice.

It felt like he was walking in slow motion up to me. I began to shake. I took one step towards him as he approached but quickly squeezed my legs together when I felt the baby lurch downward. The head was heavy and round behind the lips of my pussy as it bulged. I was border line hyperventilating by the time he got to me. My panicked state was noticed and his eyebrows furrowed but he continued with his part of the presentation.

He thanked me with a "how about another hand for my second in command?". The crowd roared once more and I was forced to turn and face them. The camera zoomed in to my face but I was more focused on trying to control myself than pleasing the audience. But I could feel my boss's red hot stare burning through my side and smiled shakily once more. I lifted my hand to give a goodbye wave and then...

POP.

My underwear and pants we're full of the head and soaked with birth fluid. I didn't even notice my body was pushing as hard as it was as my desperation reached its peak. The crowd gasped as my hand flew down to cup the baby, water trickled out of me in a steady stream. My boss looked at me in shock before covering his mic with a fist.

"Did you just piss yourself like an untrained toddler? You couldn't hold it?" He hissed in rage. I was ruining his big day but I could care less at the moment.

I took two shaky steps towards the backstage but the shoulders bulged and I couldn't go any further. I gave in, running on pure maternal instinct and frantically began unclasping my belt. My trembling hands made it all the more difficult but I was able to take it off and throw it to the side.

"I'm having the baby." I groaned to nobody and everybody.

"What?"

And now I was working on my buckle and zipper, babbling incoherently and unable to think about anything but dropping. "I'm having... I'm-I'm giving birth. It's out. It's out!"

My pants fell to the ground and my baby followed soon after, hitting the floor of the stage with a wet plop as it gushed out and landed in a huge puddle of amniotic fluid. I stood there with my hands on my knees, pants and underwear pooled around my ankles, and a blue cord that connected me to the big baby that squirmed and wailed on the hard floor hanging out of my pussy. I wheezed and hyperventilated while the crowd gasped and took out their phones to record.

I looked back at my boss and could tell he was annoyed. He merely wanted the world to see me large and due with his babe but didn't expect me to pop it out even though he'd fucked me will into labor the night before.

Paramedics rushed to the stage. The crew must have called them when I initially announced that it was coming. I lifted my leg as they crowded me and my huge baby that screamed on the cold floor. The cord was cut and I heard my boss sigh heavily over the mic while he watched the commotion his child caused.

"I apologize for the inconvenience on their behalf, everyone." He said while looking at me with sheer disappointment before resuming the presentation. "Now, where was I?"

[gravid-transluna]

Two Birthdays

words: 4111

content: lactation, milking, clothing birth, birth denial, fpreg

Part One

A birthday is a special day. Her friend’s twenty-first should have been Mari’s only focus. However, Mari had been distracted the entire day as they spent time at the resort’s expansive pool and spa. It hadn’t been so bad at first. Her friend’s mom, Noemi, was nearly a week overdue with her second child, and though she had started the day in modest clothes—a maternity sundress draping her huge, full swell, navel protruding starkly, pressing downward from her middle—, the afternoon sun had continued to shine down on them, forcing Noemi to shed her dress, pulling it up her belly and over her head.

Mari’s face had flushed and she’d turned away, ashamed and furious at herself for her own thoughts, but she’d already seen the nakedness of Noemi’s belly, taut at the seams and painfully overdue, hanging low over her hips and melting into her otherwise small, slim frame. Sweat had shimmered, bright, on the stretched, striped skin. A dark linea nigra ran down her middle to her navel. Her belly button was hard and round like a stone. Underneath, she only wore a white two-piece bikini, and her breasts, once small and subtle, hung swollen in her top, nipples and areolae visible.

Mari’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering every time Noemi lifted her slender hands to cup her swell, or when she rose from the sunbathing to reapply sunscreen and Mari saw her from the back; though she still tried to step with her usual grace and poise, her gait was wide, baby obviously dropped between her narrow hips, reducing her to a waddle.

It was a very uncomfortable day to be a lesbian with a fetish that especially appealed on an older woman.

This wasn’t the worst of it, though.

Mari first noticed it when Noemi reached across the table for her drink.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Of course!” Mari squeaked.

Then Noemi’s face changed. Her reaching hand flew to her belly, and Mari followed it to see visible tensing, muscles clenched on either side, misshapen around her huge baby.

“Oh!” she said. There was something in her face now. Surprise, but also a slight urgency.

“Ms. Noemi?” Mari asked. “Are—are you okay?”

“Mm,” Noemi said, and took her glass. “I’m fine. Thank you, Mari.”

This happened multiple times throughout the day, and every time she saw that mound tense then sag, muscles relaxing, Mari’s pussy pounded badly, pulsing.

She stayed in the shade, sipping nothing but cold water with ice while her friend and the others ordered drinks at the pool bar.

After about another hour of this, Mari couldn’t take it. She left and walked to the restrooms and found a stall. Inside it she immediately yanked her bikini bottom down her legs and pressed her fingers to her clit. Her pussy throbbed for release, dripping and clenching. She began to masturbate standing over the toilet, imagining closing her lips around one of Noemi’s stiff, milk-heavy nipples.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck, fuck. Her pussy began to pulsate under her slick fingers. Her thighs shook as she came.

“Shit,” Mari said aloud, then she wiped herself down and pulled her bikini bottom back up and exited the stall, washing the slick from her hands in the sink.

Suddenly the restroom door was flung open. Mari jumped guiltily, then her eyes widened in shock as Noemi raced past her, not even noticing her at the sink, bowed over her low belly, a hand clamped to her crotch. She ran into the handicap stall and slammed the door shut. It was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Ohhhhhh.”

A muted, breathless moan and a loud splashing sound.

Mari stood frozen. She heard a small gasping from the other side of the stall door, and approached hesitantly. She rapped a timid knuckle on the door and the gasps stopped.

“U-um, Ms. Noemi? Are you okay?”

There was silence. Then, “Yes, just some Braxton Hicks contractions. I’m sorry if I startled you, Mari.”

Noemi’s voice sounded strained, so uncharacteristic of her usually soft, modulated tone.

Mari hesitated. “Are you sure? Do you need any help?”

More silence. The stall door unlocked from the inside. Mari pushed it open and her heart thumped in her chest at the sight inside.

Noemi was standing over the toilet, thighs wide apart, knees slightly bent. Her bikini bottom and legs were soaked with fluids. Her belly, somehow, appeared to hang even lower, navel pointed almost to the floor now with weight and fullness. Her face was sweaty, cheeks flushed, short dark hair clinging damply to her forehead.

“Oh my god, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “Your water broke, didn’t it?”

Noemi’s face tightened and she pressed her lips together, nodding and closing her eyes. She clutched reflexively at the orb between her thighs as it flexed, hardening, muscles like iron. Her brow wrinkled and she grunted as though she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore.

“Mari,” she gasped. “I need you to step out, please. I’m—I think I need to—relieve myself.”

Mari shook her head. “I think it’s the baby! Are you feeling like pushing?”

“Ughh.” Noemi’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Yes. I need to push.”

“Oh my—“ Mari trailed off. “We’ve gotta call you an ambulance.”

Suddenly the contraction released Noemi. Her belly slackened. She collapsed onto the toilet seat, thighs spread wide to accommodate her massive stomach. She panted, chest heaving.

“No,” she said. “It will ruin the party.”

“But—“

“Please.” Noemi’s eyes softened, and Mari perceived her desperation clearly. “You’re one of my daughter’s more mature friends. I don’t want to embarrass her or cause a scene, and I need your help.”

Mari gulped. “What can I do?”

Noemi sighed. “Thank you. I just need to last until the party is over.”

The restroom door opened and someone walked in.

“Ms. Noemi? Are you in there?” The voice was a little slurred, tipsy from afternoon drinking.

Noemi composed herself and raised her voice. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“O-o-okay. Haven’t popped yet, have you?”

Noemi managed a weak laugh. “Holding it in.”

For now, Mari thought.

They waited until they heard the door close. Then Noemi said, “Could you—I need you to—” was she—blushing? “I can’t go back out covered in my waters.”

“O-oh,” Mari said, and she was suddenly aware of the distinct odor coming off of Noemi, the scent of her fluids, fecund and thick, the musk of a woman close to birthing. Noemi stood as Mari grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began to dab her formerly lean thighs, thickened over the course of her pregnancy.

“And–” She was really blushing now, Mari marveled. “I’d do it myself but–I can no longer reach around my stomach.”

Happy to. Mari drew her fingers around Noemi’s hips, noting the slight intake of breath as her thumbs brushed swollen underbelly. She hooked her bikini bottom and exposed her fleshy pregnancy pussy, damp and swampy, and the odor was stronger now. Mari breathed.

Then, “you have to close your legs.”

“Mm, trying.” Noemi struggled, the baby lodged in her pelvis making it almost impossible to pinch her knees shut. Her eyes widened. “Oh no…”

Her belly hitched and went hard. Her knees immediately buckled, thighs wide again.

“I need to push,” she said. She groaned as she began to bear down. The sides of her belly sucked in with the force of her pushing.

“No! Ms. Noemi, you have to hold it in, remember?” Mari said.

“Hnnnnfgh,” Noemi groaned. She tried to resist. “Hooh-hooh, god. I need to push.”

Mari, not knowing how to help, planted her palms on Noemi’s belly and rubbed the hot, furious skin. It burned under her palms, fevered. She could feel the desperate convulsions of Noemi’s strong internal muscles as they worked to expel her baby against her efforts.

“Oh,” Noemi grunted.

“Sorry!”

“No! No–ouugh–please. Don’t stop.”

Noemi closed her eyes and raised her chin, swaying back and forth as Mari stroked the tight, oblong surface. Experimentally, she flicked her thumb across Noemi’s bulging navel, and Noemi shivered.

The contraction ended, leaving Noemi worn and restless, her baby’s head burrowed deeper into her birth canal, fuller even, than she’d been before her labor. Mari removed her hands from Noemi’s belly, and Noemi appeared embarrassed, almost bashful.

“I wish–hah–you didn’t have to see me like this, much less care for me in such a compromising–ugh–condition. Modesty is hard enough to maintain when it comes to pregnancy.”

“You’re beautiful,” Mari said honestly.

Startled and disarmed, Noemi looked at her. It could have been the heat flush, or she could have been blushing again.

Part Two

They exited the restroom together and for the next hour, Noemi mingled near the pool bar, a drink in hand, and endured the powerful, relentless contractions. Mari stood beside her, and the first time another contraction struck she saw Noemi double over, muscles banding her belly, legs widening instinctively.

“Oh,” she whispered. “OH. I’m pushinnng-hnnngh.”

“No, you’re not,” Mari hissed back. “You can do this.” She placed a covert hand on Noemi’s curved back, massaging it gently, already accustomed to touching Noemi’s exposed, laboring body.

Noemi straightened, and painstakingly closed her legs as much as she could, attempting to hold her baby firm in her canal. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her grunts diminished into effortful pants.

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I don’t think anybody noticed.”

“Good,” Noemi moaned under her breath. “Good. I’m feeling like pushing all the time now, even when the contraction’s gone. There’s so much pressure, right between my legs.”

Another contraction that hour had Noemi leaning heavily on Mari for support, her obtrusive belly pushing into Mari’s own flat tummy, making Mari wonder at the sensation of such a packed, heavy womb. She could feel the steely stretched muscles rippling against her. The skin contact moved heat from Mari’s stomach to between her legs, and again her pussy was beating, quick and warm like a pulse. She worried that she was leaking through her bikini bottom now, dizzied by arousal. Then Noemi moaned in her ear, arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Mari felt a wetness drip down her inner thigh.

“Aye, go get your mom!”

“Should she be drinking in that state?”

Luckily, everyone was too drunk at this point to think much about it.

Contractions were gripping Noemi mercilessly now, with barely any pause or respite, and she was barely holding on every time, fighting her body, her deep primal instinct to bear down against the baby in her canal. Every time Mari anchored her, caressing her hard belly, urging her gently, just hang on a little while longer. The last contraction left Noemi senseless with pain and need, foggy-headed. Her legs were permanently spread now, stance ridiculously wide.

“Oh, dear…” she breathed, and Mari followed her gaze to her front. Two wet spots had formed in her bikini top, nipples standing straight through the fabric.

“Ms. Noemi,” Mari said, summoning her courage. She looked Noemi in the eye. “Let me help you.”

Noemi let herself be led to the restrooms again, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, everything about her so full and aching.

“You don’t need to come in with me,” she said. “I can, ah, expel the milk on my own.”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I promised I’d take care of you.”

Noemi was blushing hard now, appearing almost drunk in her labored state. She allowed Mari to sit her down on the toilet. Mari gently teased the white bikini top from her breasts, and Noemi shivered, curling her toes at just the light brush of fabric against her sensitive nipples. Her dark areolas spread over her breasts, and around them blue veins ran through soft, tan skin. Her nipples jutted stiffly, heavy and laden, beaded at the tips with milk.

Mari set the flat of her hand against one and marveled as more milk beaded at the surface and then began to drip down the swell of Noemi’s breast and onto the long shelf of her belly. Noemi hissed, a sharp intake of air.

“Okay?”

Noemi nodded, unable to speak. Keep going.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Mari said. She sat on Noemi’s lap and clamped her mouth around her nipple, cupping her other breast in her hand. Milk spurted from both breasts in tiny forceful streams. Noemi clapped a hand over her mouth to contain a sharp noise of pleasure and release, her back arching, other hand raised, opening and closing in the air. Mari suckled, feeling Noemi squirm under her, and lowered her free hand between her own legs, strumming her clit. Suddenly Noemi’s belly went hard again and she threw back her head to moan loudly, and Mari couldn’t tell whether from ecstasy or agony or a thrilling mixture of both.

“Oh, oh—Mari, please don’t—don’t stop. Fuck.”

Mari continued to suckle and the hand groping Noemi’s breast slid to her swell instead, tracing her linea nigra. There was no give to the surface, drum-tight, and Mari could feel Noemi’s belly seize violently, driving her baby down in a deep, involuntary push. Noemi’s moan lowered, guttural with sudden pushing, and Mari instantly took her lips away from Noemi’s breast. The milk stream diminished to dribble, her breasts not even close to being drained. Noemi squirmed at the sudden lapse.

“No pushing, remember?” Mari had settled well into a dominant role, playing out her ultimate fantasy, Noemi utterly receptive, responding to her every demand.

She breathed, slowly, and her hard belly relaxed somewhat.

“Good,” Mari said.

Noemi shuddered. “Yes, just—please. Continue.”

Mari smiled and said something she’d always wanted to say to Noemi: “Good girl.” The faint marks in the corners of her mouth, the maturity in her maternal hips, the refined elegance of her fingers—it was all subversive.

“I’ve never—never been called that by anyone,” Noemi panted. “Especially not someone no twenty years my junior.”

Mari bent her head again and Noemi’s lips tightened in preparation. She latched back onto her nipple, milk gushing into her mouth, and began to thumb Noemi’s stony pointed navel, her entire belly an erogenous zone at this point, her navel the sensory peak. Noemi nearly shrieked, delirious, and beneath her thighs Mari felt her hips bucking, building not only toward delivery now, but a climax. Mari continued to masturbate herself furiously, working her mouth at the same time, sinking her teeth lightly into Noemi’s breast, just enough to leave light, red marks. Noemi’s thighs began to quake with tremors and Mari’s pussy squeezed tight, clit bared—she gasped against Noemi’s soft chest at the same time that Noemi’s lips parted in a perfect O. Then they both trembled through watery orgasms.

Noemi looked at her with glassy eyes, hazy. She leaned in, lips soft and open and receptive for a kiss—then stopped, delicate features twisting into a grimace, and released a thunderous groan, lifting her bottom off the toilet seat with the force of her pushing. Her eyes went wide. Mari could tell something had changed. She was feeling something, deep inside of herself.

She tried to articulate the sensation. “Guh—the baby, it’s—mmmm, it’s right between—the baby’s in my vagina!”

Mari looked at her. She was desperate, out of control, her face flushed and beaded with sweat, moist short hair clinging to her forehead. Her contracting belly, lower than ever.

Mari leaned forward and rammed a kiss onto her lips, and made her taste her own milk.

Part Three

Mari rose from Noemi’s lap. Her tortured spasming belly hung so low at this point that even when she raised herself from the toilet seat Mari still couldn’t see her pussy, just the creases where her extreme underbelly sank into the flesh of her hips, and the tiny white string of her bikini bottom wrapping them, dragged by the heavy downward sag. Noemi was already trying to push again, nothing else in her mind except the baby now coming out of her. Legs planted wide, firmly squatted. It didn’t seem like she could even straighten up at this point, so heavy and low with the head. She grunted loudly, frantic in her efforts to pull her bikini bottom down her thighs and alleviate the immense pressure in her bottom. Sweat poured from her slick skin. She was obviously in the final stages of labor, and like she had been twenty-one years ago, she was consumed by the need to birth her baby.

Mari stood, watching in the sticky panties she’d just masturbated herself hard in, pussy still convulsing. She could see the light red teeth marks ringing Noemi’s areola. She had marked her. Noemi was hers. And yet, she wasn’t paying any mind to the girl who had suckled her to orgasm. Her only focus was pushing her baby out into her bikini, and once she did that she would become a mother again. Mari felt insecure, possessive. Would things return to the way they had been before? Noemi never noticing her, never giving her the attention she had craved. Suddenly, Mari reached for Noemi’s fingers at the hem of her bikini.

“Ms. Noemi.” Her voice was a firm reprimand. “I thought you wanted me to help you. I can’t help you if you push your baby out right now.”

Noemi could barely talk at this point. “Have—to—PUSH.” Mari still felt that awe, seeing such an articulate, modest woman reduced to animalistic instinct. She groaned, bearing down more, and her groan tightened as the baby was driven deeper into her bottom.

Mari circled her, tracing her fingers lightly from Noemi’s contraction-wracked torpedo belly to her curving bent back. Standing behind her now, she took Noemi’s delicate wrists in her hands and moved them away from the bikini bottom. Then she bent to see Noemi’s squatted thighs and bottom, and between her cheeks the wetted white bikini was beginning to tent outward. Mari gently rolled the bikini down to Noemi’s widespread knees. The pregnancy pussy she had just seen hours ago was now unrecognizably swollen and bulged with a startlingly huge head, yet her lips had barely parted. Mari wasn’t even sure if Noemi could birth something so big. Between Noemi’s thighs she could see her brown hanging belly harden again, the contractions now relentless, forcing Noemi into constant pushing.

As she watched, Noemi’s pussy bulged more and reddened. Her lips slowly began to part, distending—until Mari clapped her hand over the head. Noemi’s hot pussy strained against her palm, but Mari didn’t permit the head to progress any further. She heard Noemi’s strangled sob of frustration.

“It’s okay,” Mari cooed. “If you can’t hold it in, I can for you.”

Gently, she slipped the bikini bottom back up Noemi’s thighs and pulled it firmly over her hips, wedging the baby tight in her pussy. It yielded a little, but certainly not enough for Noemi to deliver the head. Noemi gasped at the feeling of the fabric against her sensitive, tender opening.

Mari then redid Noemi’s top, tying it in the back.

“There,” she appraised Noemi, trembling and gasping, filled completely with her baby. “I think you’re ready to go back out. People are probably getting suspicious of us.”

“Okay,” Noemi closed her eyes. “Just a little longer.”

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi!” Mari’s eyes lit up. “Hold it in for me.”

It was evening now. A lot of people had deserted, and those who stayed were trashed, too inebriated to notice Mari step out with Noemi in tow. They didn’t notice that Noemi only walked in a squatted position now, knees bent, legs far apart. They didn’t notice the sweat beading her forehead, or the flush of her cheeks. They didn’t notice her hanging belly, constantly constricting with contractions and hard unceasing pushes. And they certainly didn’t notice the conspicuous bulge straining her bikini bottom, dripping fluids from between her thighs.

Nobody assumed such a composed woman would be bent under the thumb of a girl twenty years younger than her, crowning into her bikini right there at the poolside.

Noemi staggered to a wicker pool chair, and slowly lowered herself with Mari’s help, only to yelp and cringe away when her bulged bottom made contact with the seat.

“Here—“ Mari said. “Try to sit back instead.”

Noemi sat with her back arched, legs open to the poolside, so that the head rested in her pussy without being crammed between her and the chair. She was already pushing, her knuckles white, gripping the arm rests so hard, Mari thought they might snap in her grasp. Her toes curled. Liquid pattered the deck beneath the chair, a puddle spreading under her. The head parted her more. She seemed unable to spread her legs wide enough, grunting and pushing and stretching. Even when she paused, it no longer slid back in, kept her lips taut and spread.

She pushed. The head no longer moved. The fabric trapped it snugly. She pushed again. Hard. Nothing. She pushed and pushed, caught in endless contractions and pushes. Mari heard her name panted, again and again, as she circled the head over the fabric with light fingers. Satisfaction stirred her.

Noemi was hers.

Finally, Noemi clambered heavily from her seat. She dropped into a deep squat on the deck and threw her head back, interrupting her silent pushes with a strained moan as she bore down once again, pained for leverage, obeying her instinctual need for a position change despite her unyielding clothes. Mari heard her joints pop; her forty-something body was at its limit.

It was time. They both sensed it.

Mari leaned in. Her breath shivered Noemi’s ear. “Are you ready, Noemi?” she whispered, forgoing the “Ms” title for the first time.

Noemi nodded. Once.

Mari paused. “Are you sure?”

Noemi nodded vigorously as she heaved with another push.

“Come on, then.”

The party was over. Nobody was left except for Noemi’s daughter, who had been laying passed out in a reclining chair since noon.

The pool water was cool on Mari’s skin as she waded down the steps. She discarded her bikini as she went, and the cold pricked up her bare nipples. Noemi breathed a deep sigh as she waded in herself. The water enveloped her thighs, her heavy submerging belly, and finally her splayed breasts as she sank. Mari swam up behind her and hugged her around the circumference of her gravid belly. She pressed herself to the curve of Noemi’s back, naked skin touching as they drifted for a second. Only a second, though. Soon it was over and Noemi was placing her head back, into Mari’s shoulder, and pushing. Mari’s hands traveled to Noemi’s bikini bottom and—

“Push for me,” she breathed, and pulled it down.

Noemi shouted loudly and groaned her baby into Mari’s hand. Her vaginal lips stretched, forming an angry fervent oval around the massive head. She groaned, forceful in her efforts. Her thighs gaped open in the water. Her pussy was a slick, round, red circle now, straining and slipping around the head. Her groans were almost inhuman, overwhelmed with need and desire and basic instinct. Mari felt the head inch out with Noemi’s powerful pushes, and admired its size and width. This was coming from Noemi, coming through her, creaking her aged bones and spreading her in a way she hadn’t been since her youth.

Her belly raised and then dropped with a final push, the drawn muscles of her uterus convulsing, and she shrieked. The head reached its widest point. Eyes, nose, ears, she opened around each feature. For a moment her lips whitened, pale around the head. Then a pop, a burst, a release. Noemi shuddered. Her legs jerked in the water and opaque amniotic fluids spilled from her.

“Uggghhh.”

“You did it,” Mari said. She marveled at Noemi’s motherly drive as she caressed the head hanging from Noemi’s pussy. “Just the shoulders now.”

“Ohhhh,” Noemi brought her hand between her legs, holding Mari’s as they both cupped the head. “My baby,” she panted. “My baby….”

“Let’s meet her together,” Mari whispered.

Noemi arched in the pool, belly and breasts and upturned nipples raising above the water. With a sweet, quiet groan, she gave birth into Mari’s waiting hands.

Noemi sat beside the pool on the reclining chair, her stomach sagging in her lap, ruined by a dark linea nigra. Her short hair plastered her forehead. Her attention was on the baby suckling at her milky breast. She looked up when Mari trotted to her with spare towels, and smiled tiredly.

Mari leaned down and wrapped her in the towel, and kissed her on the cheek.

“So,” Noemi said. “How do we tell my other daughter?”

[thelaurenshippen]

okay, but, like, THAT'S how you do a villain story. in the FIRST scene, you watch him shoot a man in cold blood. the show tells you right away "this man is not a good man".

but then it gets you to sympathize - look at how much the world has stepped on him. look at how terrible the whole of gotham is. and even when he kills more people, does more terrible things, you still root for him. because it's fun to watch someone be terrible to terrible people. you root for sofia too, because if anyone deserves revenge its her, but you're rooting for both of them somehow.

and then the show tells you "when he was a boy he killed his brothers". but even still, you want to see what he'll do. the show is called the penguin, you want to see the penguin rise. when he lets his mother's finger almost get cut off, you pity him. he's a sad, broken thing. how could he be anything but bad? but he loves, so there must be something else there.

but then. but THEN

the show always told you: "this is the devil". but you thought, maybe the devil can make hell a little more bearable for some people. the devil is so often nuanced, sympathetic, complex. maybe he's like that.

you're wrong. there's nothing good within him and YOU rooted for him to succeed. you wanted to watch the destruction. and now you have to live with the consequences of thinking, even for a second, that he could be redeemed.

[dinneratgrannys]

ONCE UPON A TIME 5.13, Labor of Love

[disastercit]

horrible crime grandpa <3

(omg actual oc art from me??? thats so weird i thought this blog was just for torturing my david plushie)

entire essay explaining their dynamic in the tags bc if there's one thing i will do it's hide all the actual lore in the tags bc im too embarrassed to put it in the actual post for some reason

[takenoprizners]

Worker in a doll factory, Massachusetts, 1936

R. R. Donnelly Printing Letter Press. Photo by Torkel Korling, 1942

Men and machines_2 (vintage)

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Sorry just a mini rant bc genuinely appalled at the way some of my coworkers talk about not eating during work. Like buddy we're working CRM. It is a very labour intensive job. It's July and frequently over 30°C. The way you talk about not eating anything til dinner (and sometimes not anything beyond a granola bar all day) is terrifying. Obviously money for food can be tight (I'm feeling it rn) but I've spoken with some of them and they have and can afford food and they almost seem to be bragging about making it through the day on nothing. You are going to collapse! You should be eating!

So yeah my coworkers may not listen to me but to any fellow archaeologists please remember to eat! Even if you're staying hydrated that won't be enough if you're also not eating properly for days. Please take care of yourself in the field.

Everyone should be taking breaks to eat, hydrate, reapply sunscreen, and stretch. Yes, even if you don't feel like you need to. Yes, even if other people are "working through it." Toughing it out is not a badge of honor. It is dangerous, and unnecessarily so.

Just because you can go without doesn't mean you should. Your body is not suddenly the exception to the biological necessities of eating and drinking. Keeping your body nourished is part of long term care for your health. No work is worth shortchanging that.

This applies to all work, not just archaeological excavation. If you're reading this and thinking I totally support this for everyone else, not for me though THIS IS FOR YOU. Taking breaks sets a precedent. Because even if you don't need the break, someone else does, and if you take yours, you're contributing to a work environment where that person can take theirs. There's a reason unions have fought for breaks in pretty much every industry.

-Reid

[mejcinta]

With how the show chose to portray Aegon as a young man prone to failure and feelings of insufficiency, it would've made more sense for him to be the one suffering erectile dysfunction.

But if they did make Aegon sexually dysfunctional, they would have to explain how on Earth Aegon got Helaena pregnant without fuss more than once, or why his seed is spread all over King's Landing.

Of course, feelings of inferiority can also lead to hypersexual tendencies BUT!!! Helaena is literally a symbol of the duty he owes the realm...the same duty that he deems a burden and one of the causes of his sorrows.

So, even if he was hypersexual, he would be repelled by his sister-wife and not get heirs. But he did, more than once in fact. So does he really 'hate' Helaena like some people claim? Is it possible that he is considerate of his duty to some small extent? The math is all over the place.

This really goes to show that there's an inconsistency in how the writers covered Aegon. So little makes sense when you look closely at the picture. Almost like much of his traits on the show were just thrown in for shock value.

But to be fair, season 1 gave us so little of Aegon or Helaena to determine what is really going on and how they both go around their duties.

[gravid-transluna]

Same Boat

words: 1415

content: birth denial, fpreg

Danae would do anything for her partner. Their dates were always doting and private. With her menacing tattoos and biceps like knotted wood in her cuffed sleeves, she’d scared away any men looking to prey on her pretty little girlfriend. Even when she was pounding her with a thick strap, she always prioritized Leah’s preferences, made sure she was happy and drooling and sweetly stroked.

Their simultaneous pregnancies didn’t change anything. Danae was still Leah’s fiercest protector, even as her abs slackened and swelled, and her masculine body lost some of that refined muscle. Sure, it was a little hard to get around sometimes with that belly, but nothing Danae couldn’t handle.

When it came time for Leah’s labor, Danae did everything she could to make their home comfortable and relaxed. Candles, a hot bath.

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Leah laughed, holding her own prominent swell.

She wore one of Danae’s old workout shirts and a slim pair of panties. The way the fabric stretched and slipped around her navel was an undeniable turn-on.

Danae smirked. “Anything for you, princess.”

She tried to avoid touching or stroking her own belly. For the past couple days it had been twinging with sympathetic contractions. She’d kept stoic through them, at pains to not stress Leah in any way before her birth.

The strongest contraction yet had Leah clinging to Danae, mousing her hands through her short locs. Their bellies were pressed together, both flexing, hard with contractions. Danae held Leah in her thick arms, bearing her own contraction soundlessly.

“Uhhhmf,” Leah groaned, sobbing. “There’s so much pressure, baby!”

“I know, baby,” Danae said, a little breathless. She massaged Leah’s overburdened back. “Breathe, now.”

“Ohhhh, oh, I CAN’T.”

Suddenly, fluid soaked both of their thighs. Leah’s legs trembled, weak and slender. Danae supported her, firmly grounded.

Danae left Leah squatting in the living room as she made her way to the kitchen, trying, failing to conceal her pronounced waddle. She returned with towels and dried the mess. On all fours, she suffered another contraction. What she hadn’t revealed to Leah was that not all the birthing fluid had come from her; Danae’s own water had broken. Her eyes widened slightly as her belly tensed beneath her—this contraction was accompanied by the strong urge to push.

Fortunately, Danae was stronger. She gritted her teeth and mopped up the rest of the puddle as the urge pounded through her. Every muscle in her body surged with effort and willpower.

Leah grunted. “I gotta push, baby! Oh, shit! I gotta push so bad!”

“Urgh. Hold it in,” Danae said through gritted teeth. She was speaking to herself just as much as she was speaking to her girlfriend. Sweat beaded at her temple. “Hold it in. Gotta check you first.”

Leah closed her eyes, managed through it with panty grunts. Her legs were permanently spread in a deep squat now. As though a switch had been flipped, she suddenly began to remove her shirt, hiking it up over her belly, then her head. Fully nude, her body glistened. She glimmered in a haze, heavy and feminine.

Danae was overcome with the same desire to strip, broiling in heat, her body sensing the closeness of the baby in her canal. She resisted, remaining in her tight undershorts and sports bra.

Danae positioned the towel under Leah, though her own knees were sore and could have used some relief. She painstakingly braced herself on one knee, dropped stomach resting heavily on her broad thigh.

“God,” Leah breathed, head thrown back. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Danae said, quickly checking her. “I’ve got you.”

Her pussy was familiar as ever, as was Danae’s fingers inside her. She felt Leah’s slick vaginal walls clamp down on them.

“Ooh, I gotta push!” Then, squeezing— “Gotta—I’m PUSHINGGGG! Mmmfgh!”

“You’re good, baby,” Danae said, removing her fingers. She was still kneeling as Leah squatted deeply before her, bottom thrust in her face. Danae’s belly went hard again, as though encouraged by Leah’s furious pushing. Her face snarled and twisted, piercings raising and she flared her gums. The urge to push washed over her again.

Not yet, she thought. Don’t push yet.

Despite her efforts, her body was beginning to bear down against her will, slowly inching the baby through her canal.

Somewhere, dimly in her mind, Danae was in wonder. We’re feeling the same urges, the same stretch, the same weight. It was as though their bodies were one.

Eventually, Leah’s perineum began to bulge, red and irritated, then the head slipped into her pussy.

“Ooh!” She cried. The head was spreading her cheeks.

“Ugh,” Danae grunted. “Good—hrgh—good girl.”

She cupped the head. Birthing fluids spurted and dripped around it as Leah squatted into another groaning push, forcing the head to a full crown.

The sound of relief as Leah pushed was too much. Under Leah’s din, Danae quietly succumbed to her own body. She pressed her lips together, straining, giving in. Her powerful push immediately thrust the baby down between her hips. God, the head was huge. Leah’s hips had widened over the course of her pregnancy, something Danae had delighted in, but her own pelvis remained somewhat narrow, barely wide enough now for the coming head. Danae couldn’t worry about hospitals or stuck heads now, though. Even as she bore down against her tightly wedged baby, she kept her hand on Leah’s crowning pussy as the baby slowly parted and bulged her lips, spreading her open. Leah moaned, bending her knees, scrabbling for any bit of leverage. The skin of her pussy grew taut, an enraged red, then almost white. She would tear if it ripped through any further.

“Baby, you gotta—shi-i-it—you gotta slow down,” Danae demanded between her own pushing.

“I CAN’T, I can’t!!” Leah howled, so Danae pressed back into the crown, gently holding it in place as Leah pushed uncontrollably.

At the same time, Danae heaved with a huge, forceful push. Her well-muscled body exerted like a machine. She finally let loose a deep groan as she bore down, and the baby creaked and opened her pelvis. A wet bulge grew in her undershorts. They tightly contained the crown. Held fast, Danae and Leah were in the same boat.

“Let it come, ohhhh, please let it come out,” Leah was moaning.

Her pussy was stretching properly now, the blood returning to its color, and only at the end of her push did Danae realize this. She cursed herself, guilty for forgetting Leah for even a moment. She eased the counterpressure from her hand, and Leah screamed the head out.

“Check—ing—cord,” Danae gasped.

“Hurry,” Leah panted, mouth open, lolling her head.

Danae held her own pussy as she checked with one hand. Her undershorts were working in her favor for the time being, preventing the trickling crown from growing any wider.

“You’re good, mama,” she grunted. “Push our baby out now.”

Leah shuddered as the shoulders rotated. She shouted, and with a douse of birthing fluids the baby slipped into Danae’s waiting hands.

“Holy—shit, mama!”

Leah sank to her knees and took the baby, cradling. She looked up at Danae tenderly, smiling tiredly as their baby began to suckle.

Her eyes widened.

Danae had raised herself from her knees to a solid squat, thighs tensing, shorts tented with a crowning head. Her belly thrust hard on her midsection, and milk stained her sports bra. Even as she bore down like a warrior, she’d never looked more proud.

Then her eyes met Leah’s. She managed a smirk. “Guess it’s my turn now, huh?”

[hot-wire-this-old-car]

the longer i’m a disabled leftist the sadder i get every time i see the home chores vs. leftist theory post going around. i’m not going to be able to say this quite right but

guys maybe tying an individual’s value to their revolutionary labor isn’t actually the radical leftist move you think it is

anyways i love you disabled people who can’t do home chores, or need help, or have fluctuating energy. idc that you have a sink full of dishes. lying in bed tweeting about communism, finding ways to connect to the movement that are accessible and comfortable to your bodymind IS radical, actually. ily

[chemiosmotic]

i'm realizing that the indentured servitude situation in tlt appears to entirely be a thin setup for a fake dating plot.

[dinneratgrannys]

How do you know that wasn't one of Hades' tricks? Because I know.

[deviousdiesel]

.

[alientitty]

american economists will do anything to call as many people as possible middle class. ive seen some measures go straight from "poor" to "lower middle class" so they can avoiding even saying the word "worker." it's a great way to try and convince everyone that they're a potential business owner so that they side with policies that benefit million-dollar megacorps and real estate cartels because it's "good for business"