Birthbitchii - Birth Bitch

I won't post anything else that isn't fetish shit on this blog but I want to say something:

Tumblr isn't real life.

I spent my formative years on Tumblr thinking that bisexuals and pansexuals were a huge divide, and that people assumed bisexuals were transphobic. Then I entered the world and no one thought that and I spent dozens of hours upset over nothing.

Social media feeds on *making you upset*. The more you are upset, the more you interact. Do not let that color your vision of the world.

Are there people who think bisexuals/pansexuals are transphobic? Sure, there are idiots. Are there people who think trans men have inherited the privileges of cis men? Sure, there are idiots.

You don't need to indulge them. Gender theory has moved past this debate since Gender Trouble was published and it's mostly free online.

Don't get your gender theory from Tumblr. Get your fetish porn from Tumblr.

trans men aren't cis women, though. you get that, right? you get that trans men aren't cis women? and that doesn't change even if you think they are?

Guys ... i..it wasnt a dream....

IT WASN'T A DREAM ×_×

I fucking love fetish sexuality. I love people with totally bizarre, highly conceptual, abstract fetishes. I love the way sex is not merely sex, it is a story played through our bodies. I love the way the urge to create is so deeply and profoundly unstoppable that it alchemizes within us and becomes freakish desires. I love fetishism.

That first moment of movement when you’re carrying something unknown. Something unnatural. The fear of feeling the life twisting inside of you, knowing that when you reach full term you’ll be bringing it into the world.

Being held captive, having them touch and prod at your belly, run countless exams and ultrasounds just to watch it grow. Prasing you and saying how they can’t wait for you to get bigger….

when they're so close to going into labor they're constantly rocking their hips bc the baby is so low in their pelvis it feels like they're just gonna fall out. siiiiighhhhhhhhhhhhh

Don’t Pull Over!

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

Apparently it looks like my belly has dropped, thoughts? 😬

Storm Area 51

Memes are fun and all, but the Storm Area 51 meme has unfortunately landed some people in some serious trouble/danger.

Although most people know it's a joke, this past Tuesday saw a few people attempt to break into area 51 as well as the EIHA facility. Here's the outcome of that:

Denise Kelly, 28, made it in without initially alerting the guards. She decided to venture in to our delicate brood-sac room. A room that no one is ever meant to enter. This room contains a wealth of eggs from various alien species. The presence of a fertile female in the room will immediately wake them all up, and that's exactly what happened. Although Denise was only impregnated with non-lethal breeds, the problem was that she was impregnated by 57 breeds at once. As you can imagine, that posed a bit of a spacing dilemma with them.

As soon as Denise had entered the room, our alarm sounded, but by the time we got there she was already in the state you can see in the picture. She was wearing profusely, moaning loudly, and thick blue veins had erupted all over her belly. Through her pained breaths she attempted to call for help, but it was far too late for her, a second later she split open, gushing a tonne of alien embryos all over the floor.

Next there was Susan Wells, who managed to get herself impregnated with multiple experimental breeds. This caused her belly to swell with a huge amount of alien amniotic fluid. Luckily we managed to get to her in time, and have been draining her belly as fast as we can. Susan, however, is in a near vegetive state, as the amount of alien chemicals attempting to influence her mind and body are overwhelming her physiology. Despite our instant care of her, it's unlikely she'll make it.

Rachel Bowman managed to escape the compound again after getting impregnated. She later proudly posted her enlarged body on social media, boasting of her alien motherhood. Even though the breed she got impregnated with isn't the most dangerous, it still poses a threat to society if she births it in the wild. A team has been sent out to track her down from these posts.

Ellie Holden was another escapee who managed to get herself impregnated with our newly formed, very rare, Armistus embryo. Armistus is a very hard alien to find or synthesise and releasing one has set our research back months. Armistus enjoys a strong, testosterone-fuelled host, so what will likely happen in the coming weeks is, Ellie will work out excessively and become extremely strong and muscled. It is important our team finds her before she becomes too difficult to contain.

Some people escaped without realising they'd gotten impregnated. Some aliens have an offset reaction and don't trigger until days later. This happened to Kenya Minto, a college student who travelled in to participate in the raid. She thought it would be a funny thing to do for clout, but the day after she left she began to feel these strange sensations in her lower belly. Like Rachel, Kenya documented this on social media, although she was clearly a lot more worried than Rachel was. Kenya had begun to hear from her friends that they were experiencing strange sensations and swelling. As soon as Kenya's belly started swelling, she snapped an anxious pic and posted to Snapchat.

All these surviving girls are being tracked down. You can send an ask to the page if you'd like to know the updates on them.

breeding you full and not telling you a single thing about it.

all you know is that, one day, you’re sick, and i’m holding your hair out of the way (if it’s long) and cooing to you and rubbing your back, and making sure you stay well fed and hydrated.

then, one day, you’re trying to put on a cute little outfit, and it’s… difficult. your tummy is poking out a bit, your hips are a bit wider, your chest has filled out. i have been keeping you well fed since you got sick, that’s probably it. you frustratedly tug on the outfit, shrug, and leave it on. it’s still cute, after all.

in bed, you notice how enamored i am with your midriff, and giggle. i’m so silly about these things, saying stuff that doesn’t make sense. your belly is just your belly. but if i insist on whispering to it conspiratorially and giving it rubs, well, those rubs have been feeling pretty good lately…

one day, you take a moment to study yourself in the mirror. you’re getting REALLY round, and you don’t know why. it’s kinda cute, and i certainly seem to like it, but none of your tops fit right, and i don’t seem interested in taking you shopping for more. you’re a bit worried something might be wrong with your belly. it’s been feeling so heavy lately, and it almost feels like something’s moving in there.

so, i take you to the doctor (vet). i chat with them quietly while you poke curiously at your bulging abdomen, oblivious to what we’re saying. the doc looks you over, then has you lay down and starts squirting a weird gel on your bare stomach, which makes you shudder and giggle. the doc uses a tool to rub along the surface of your belly, staring intently at a screen while i stare over their shoulder, occasionally glancing at you and giving you a smile. we seem to be counting something, and the doctor’s eyes are getting wider and wider. i seem giddy, walking around to you and showering your face with kisses and saying something about “how good you’re doing,” and picking you up off the bed, laughing out a joke to the doctor about carrying you “while i still can.” utterly confused but happy to be in my arms, you snuggle against me as i walk you back out of the clinic.

one day, you’re wishing i would carry you more often. walking around is getting hard on your own, but when you try to get in my arms, i keep you solidly on the floor, saying “no baby, you’re too heavy now.” as if you don’t know that, as if that isn’t why you want me to carry you. you can’t understand why your belly won’t stop growing, why i won’t help you. did you do something wrong? is this some kind of punishment?

but, then again, you start whining and getting mopey, and i hold you against me, and i reach under your belly, and i make you feel good again. in this moment, something about being so big just feels… right. it feels really, really, really good.

one day, you try to roll out of bed. you try again. you huff and strain and moan, trying to shift your massive belly. you can’t. you whine to get my attention, and i come around and lever my hands beneath you, helping you sit up, then take your hands to get you to your feet. your knees buckle, and i barely manage to maneuver you back to the bed rather than risking you dropping straight to the floor. you sink into the mattress with a gasping huff, clutching at the great swell that’s weighing you down so much, almost crying in exasperation, but i kiss you and caress you and rub your stretched belly (almost making it worse, that strange sensation of bulging movement gets stronger when i touch you like that).

all you can do is lay in bed, eat the meals i bring you, and silently plead with your belly to stop getting bigger. it doesn’t listen.

I keep on trying to answer this but my brain turns into mush every time I read it so ummm… I’ll reblog with person thoughts evenfuallg

I thought of the unthinkable in that moment. What I was about to do would cause you more pain on top of the labor and ring of fire that would take you soon.

This wasn't the romantic or intimate birth either of us had imagined, but it was the one we were having. We're an hour away from making the descent and this is my last resort. The small pushes you were giving slowly increased in strength as your body took the reigns of the birth of our baby. The counter pressure I provided was the only thing slowing it down. Your entire body heaves between the short reprieves, the quickly tightens and shakes with resistance

"Your doing so well, babe. You're being so strong," I kiss you on the cheek and hold your hand tight.

You barely respond in anything more than a muted moan as you lose another struggle to your body demanding strong pushes. The head is filling your canal to the point I can feel your crotch bulge against my hand.

"Need...out..." You say through barely parted lips. Your sweat soaked shirt twists with your belly. "It stings, oh babe it burns. I-I-"

Your voice slips into a silent weep.

I grit my teeth and look away from your struggling body. I cup my hand around the small sliver of the crown. This baby wasn't going to be born on this plane if I could help it.

Each contraction unravels you further, yet I keep my hand steady to hold our baby in. I can't let your whimpering undo me now when we've come so far.

I continue to hold it there as the plane begins to come to life with activity and your begging becomes more audible. The descent is about to begin.

[Part I] [Part II]

I could barely breathe, barely think. Everything was on fire… stretching, burning, squeezing. I wanted to throw up; I wanted fresh air; I wanted to push, but I wanted to keep this baby in until we landed… My wants didn’t matter though, this baby, our baby, was working on their own schedule.

The lights in the aircraft came on and crew began their routine checks throughout the cabin, getting the plane ready to land.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart. Just half an hour to go until we land.” You whisper softly in my ear.

“I c-can’t do it…” I sob, my sweaty hair falling across my face. “H-hurts… so b-bad… mnnnghh… is the baby nearly o-out?”

I don’t notice the hesitation in your voice when you assure me the baby is not nearly out and that we have plenty of time. It certainly didn’t feel like it…. My eyes were watering with the pain, I’d been pushing so hard, I don’t know how the baby wasn’t crowning by now. I would have moved my hands to feel but they were gripped so tight on each arm rest I daren’t let go, it was the only thing keeping me semi-grounded and held off my screaming.

“We need to put your seatbelt back on honey.” You said fearfully. “And put your chair back upright.”

“You can’t be- hoooo- serious! I’m trying not to have a baby here and you wanna mnnnghh move me?!” I grit through my teeth.

“Yes, we’re so close, nearly home. Just a little bit longer I promise.” You say gently. “Are you having a contraction or can I move my hand? You can’t push when my hand isn’t there okay?”

“Ooooh okay, yeah go - do it.” I panted.

Moving the chair was easy enough but the time it took to get the seatbelt over my heavy swell another contraction was already happening.

“Mnnnnnnghhh gotta-pushhhhh!” I grunted, my body contorting as it pushed the baby further out and I felt it reach a full crown.

“No babe don’t!” You tried to say but my chin was already on my chest, hair falling over my face, as I pushed again with all my strength.

“Is everything alright?” Came the voice of an air steward from the aisle.

With my head dipped it wasn’t obvious I was a woman deep in labour and actively pushing, so it was easy for you to assure the crew member everything was fine and that I was just a little tired and unwell.

Despite my pushing the baby stayed at full crown, stuck by the tight denim of my shorts. I pushed and grunted again, gasping for breath and begging you to help me.