Imagine If You Had A Rare Condition That When You're Knocked Up You Can Still Be Impregnated With More.

Happy b-birthday to- 😣 me~

“OH!! OH GOD!!! I’M GIVING BIRTH!! ”

One of the sexiest videos ever

How many months are you?

I’m already so big but have so much more growing to do! I can feel them all fighting for the little space they have 🥵

Your dad is a doctor and we're bored, fucking around with his stuff. You use the tongue depressors as you try to suppress your gag reflexes, then look to see if he has any of the good drugs.

Playing around, I grab the stethoscope and press it to your chest, using the excuse to cup your breast, stroking your unusually sensitive nipple. We laugh, as I run it down along your body.

I pause at your stomach. I frown. Heartbeats

Plural.

"What is it?" You sit up.

I listen again and laugh, weaker. It's ridiculous.

"It almost sounds like . . . You're pregnant." I say.

You grab the stethoscope and listen. It can't be true. You lost your virginity to a one night stand three days ago but now you hear one . . .

Two . . .

Three . . .

Four . . .

Five . . .

If he's right there keep pushing as hard as you can, maybe spreading your legs wider would help, or changing positions to squatting to let gravity help.

I don’t thin-ink I can move, he’s about to be-o-oUuuuUuTtTt?!

7 for the prompts, maybe a car birth?

I love a car birth, it’s such a good trope! Thanks for the request. Apparently my brain isn’t capable of simply writing a regular car birth, had to add a little twist- it’s not technically a car. Enjoy :) [3k words, fpreg, clothing birth] Prompt: “I don’t think the baby is gonna wait that long…”

We All Scream For Ice Cream

My contractions had started this morning and after three kids perhaps I should have known better. Yes they were consistent but they weren’t strong and were completely manageable. I’d called my parents to tell them my labour had started and they came to collect the kids so I didn’t have to worry about watching over them as I laboured. I spent the morning pottering around the house doing laundry and some cleaning, working through the steady waves whenever they washed over me. But after a while I started getting frustrated being inside the same four walls; I needed some air and space. It was the height of the summer holidays and you were up and out early for work to maximise our income during your busiest time of year. I knew you’d only taken the ice cream truck to the local park, you stopped going too far afield as I got closer to the end of this pregnancy - you wanted to be close in case I needed you to come home. I decided a nice walk through the park would do me good and would help with the contractions. Plus it gave me a chance to see you and let you know baby number four was on the way.

The breeze felt wonderful on my hot and clammy skin as I waddled my way down the residential streets cupping the underside of my heavy baby bump. If I pressed into the stretched skin just above my pubic bone I could feel the head of the baby sitting extremely low, perfectly in position and ready to be born. I was excited to tell you I was in labour again, maybe you could finish work early today and come help me through it this afternoon when it would inevitably ramp up.

I suffered a couple of contractions on my way to the park but they didn’t phase me - after three births I was all too familiar with the tightening and contracting of my muscles. I simply stopped, bracing my hands against a neighbours fence or a nearby street lamp, and swayed and hummed my way through them, letting the waves wash over me.

By the time I reached the park I was getting pretty hot and sweaty, but it was a warm day in the middle of summer and I was 9 months pregnant. Overheating was just par for the course. I saw your truck parked on the opposite side of the field next to the kids play area. I never thought this park was very big but right now, with my labouring belly, the journey across the green seemed a mile long. I sat on a bench to catch my breath before making the journey, watching you hand ice creams to all the kids and families that filled the park. You had such a sparkle in your eye as you handed the ice cream to its recipient, seeing the glee and excitement in each and every child’s face when they got their summery treat.

A contraction tore me away from watching you, its sharp and insistent pain coursing through my hips and legs. “Hoooooo… take it easy there…” I softly said, rubbing the large circumference of my belly as the baby kicked and shifted even lower.

A stranger walking by asked if I was okay, but with the look of panic in their face I told them it was just a kick. I didn’t get the feeling they’d handle it well if they knew a labouring mother was out here on her own in the park. After the contraction was over I awkwardly pushed myself up, cupping my low belly, and started walking over the luscious green grass. A long queue had formed for ice cream, you were busy rushing around the truck getting lolly’s out of freezers or adding sprinkles to soft whips. You didn’t have the time to notice my approach.

I thankfully didn't have a contraction as I waddled across the park but I could feel one coming as I approached the truck. I hurried past the line and nipped behind the vehicle, only just managing to make it away from the crowd before the intensity peaked. I quickly planted both palms against the truck and leaned into the contraction, taking deep long breaths, in and out, bracing through the pain and breathing the baby down. My hips were circling instinctively and I was glad no one was on this side of the ice cream truck as it would be very obvious I was in labour.

I waited for the line of customers to go down, riding out a few contractions during that time, before I rounded the corner and stood in front of the window.

“What can I get- Honey! What are you doing here?” Your eyes lit up and you broke into a wide smile, surprised but happy to see me.

“I thought I’d come and say hi.” I said, one hand rubbing my tight stomach.

“Where are the kids?” You asked, seeing that I was alone.

“With my parents.” I answered with a knowing smile, waiting to see if you’d put the pieces together.

“With your…. Wait, are you-?” Your eyebrows raised and eyes widened as you looked directly to my very pregnant belly.

“Yup, I’m in labour. Contractions started this… this m-morning…. Hoooooo” Another wave creeps up on me and I’m forced to grab on to the little shelf at the bottom of the window, hands gripping tight as the pain lances through my body.

You jumped out the back door of the van and were standing behind me in an instant. You held my hips and squeezed hard, pressing into the pressure points that would ease the pain, knowing exactly what I needed from our previous births. I let out a soft and grateful moan as I relaxed back into you.

“Oh honey, you could have just called, you know.” You laughed and kissed the back of my neck.

“I like seeing your reaction… hoooo…. when I tell you I’m in labour.” I manage to say, though the pains were starting to make it difficult to speak.

“What, so you can see me panic?! You’re evil, you know that.” You joked affectionately.

When the contraction faded you released your grip and I turned around, your arms quickly wrapping around me.

“Baby number four eh. So what was your plan after coming to tell me?” You said in my ear, giving me a squeeze.

“I figured I’d go back home, and then call you when things get more serious.”

“How long do you reckon for this one then?”

“I dunno. It’s definitely progressing faster than the others.”

“How fast?” You arched an eyebrow and looked down at me with concern.

Before I could answer, another contraction struck. My hands laced around your neck and I buried my face in your chest, unable to contain the groan from my throat.

“Jeeze, hun, that was quick. It's okay I’ve got you.” You added, feeling my knees dip slightly. “Just ride the wave, deep breaths.”

I couldn’t speak, consumed by the heavy weight that was sinking lower and lower and lower…. My hips circled and bounced, my fingers tightly gripping each wrist as I practically hung off your sturdy frame. Your hands were on my ribs holding me steady. Groaning rumbled my throat, getting deeper as the pressure in my pelvis skyrocketed, and the noise ended with a grunt.

“Fuck, babe - was that a push?” You asked with panic, surprised at just how deep into labour I was.

“No…. I don’t think so but- hoooooo- there’s so much pressure. Baby feels really low-oooohhhhh!” I whimpered.

“Have your waters broken?” You asked and I shook my head against you in response.

“I don’t think this labour is going to last as long as you think, judging by those sounds.” You warned, your thumbs affectionately rubbing my ribs while you held me steady.

“Hooooo…. I swear it wasn’t this b-bad when I left the house…. Feels like it’s come out of nowhere.” I say, feeling the pain dull enough for me to stand on my own and release my arms from your neck.

“Well they do say it gets quicker with each birth. Right, I think we need to get you back home. Then we can pick up the hospital bag, jump in the car and drive over there.”

“I… I’m not sure I’m going to be able to walk back home…” I admit, holding my bump with both hands, the weight and pressure felt constant even without a contraction.

“Okay… erm… I’ll take us back in the truck?” You suggest hesitantly.

“What? No way. There’s only a driver's seat - what am I supposed to do - get in the back with the soft serve?” I gripe with a roll of my eyes.

“It’s only a few minutes back to our house. You got any better ideas?”

Another contraction steals any response I could make and I’m suddenly hunched over, hand bracing my thighs, and groaning behind closed lips. You offer your arms as support but I wave them away, the combination of heat & pressure overwhelming, I didn’t want to be touched. Instead you jumped in the truck and I could hear you banging around, closing freezer drawers and locking cabinets, but it was all background noise to me. My heartbeat thumped in my ears, the pressure between my thighs was worsening making me grunt. My fingers gripped my legs and I pushed my hips backwards, my body acting solely on instinct. Before the wave of this contraction was over I felt something give, my legs squatting, and a puddle started to form at my feet.

“Ooooohhhhh honey- my waters have broken…” I grunt out. Gosh, I could feel the baby’s head on my cervix and I really started to worry about how long we actually had before our fourth child made their appearance.

“We need to get going, babe.” You said jumping out the van and coming over to support me. We waited for the contraction to fade and you then helped me crawl into the truck. I was glad to be wearing my maternity leggings and a thin top; it made manoeuvring into the vehicle much easier than if I was in one of my summer dresses.

“Right, I’ve locked everything away so it all should stay put on the drive, you won’t get covered in ice cream don’t worry.” You try to joke as I huff and puff my way into the cramped truck. “Why don’t we get you sitting down on the floor..?” You suggest, climbing in after me to try to help me get comfortable.

“Ooohhhh no… can’t sit down. Baby too low… fuck.” Crawling on my hands and knees I settle near the large rectangular freezer that was directly under the window booth. Staying on my knees I sit back on my heels and rest my arms on my legs, my bump sitting between my widened thighs. “I’ll just… stay like this. Drive carefully though…”

“Of course I will, precious cargo.” You said with a smile before giving me a kiss.

You shut the back doors of the ice cream truck behind you when you left, ran around to the driver’s seat and quickly started the engine. “Hold on sweetie, we’ll be home soon.” You said, putting it into gear and setting off.

We barely made it out of the park and onto the tarmac road before the next contraction struck, and without my waters it soon became apparent just how close this baby was to being born. Leaning forward and grasping the top ridge of the freezer in front of me, I tried to breath through the building pressure that was pulling and squeezing my insides. My moaning was instinctual at this point, my body’s way of riding the crashing waves of pain. Whether it was the motion of the truck or my kneeling position, but something triggered a need to push. At the end of each groan I could feel my body bearing down.

“H-how long to get to the h-hospital once we get h-home?” I stutter.

“Hospital is about 35 minutes from our house. Why?”

“I don’t think the baby is going to wait that long…. Hooooo…” I breathe, hips lifting and rocking in circles just above my feet. “Go straight to hospital, don’t go via home….”

“But we don’t have any of the stuff, for you or the baby?” You question, but still follow the instruction immediately altering our journey.

“Doesn’t-matter-nnngghhhhhh!” I gruff out before lowing deeply, bearing down again, my knuckles turning white with my grip on the freezer.

“Are you pushing??!!!” You shout.

“Can’t-help-it-”

“Shall I pull over?” You panic at hearing the familiar sounds of me pushing a baby down.

“No! Just- hospital- now!” My head dips as the wave ends and I try to catch my breath in between contractions.

We were still navigating the residential streets so thankfully weren’t going fast, but that meant we were still a way off from the hospital outside of town. My knees wide on the floor and arms stretching up gripping the fridge were the only thing keeping my body and my mind grounded. I closed my eyes, taking long deep breaths and disappeared into myself. Stay calm, you've done this before, I told myself.

“How we doing?” You asked nervously after a few minutes of silence.

“Just… drive…” I exhaled heavily, preparing myself for the next wave to hit.

And hit it did; suddenly every part of my being squeezed and screamed at me to push and I had no choice but to comply. My legs widened as far as they’d go, I pulled my body closer towards the fridge, lifting myself up and hanging off the ridge with my forearms. The head was starting to peek through, I could feel it, and there was no way I could hold off from bearing down. My hips tilted backward and I pushed with everything I had. A long and guttural moan sang from my lungs as I pushed, the head slowly crowning into my underwear. We weren’t going to make it!

“Stop!!!!” I screamed. “Pull over!”

“But-”

“The head-is-coming out…. Pull over now!”

The truck rocked and shuddered as you brought it to a halt. You sprang from the driver’s seat and on your way accidentally switched on the jingle sounds of the ice cream truck, the tune ringing from the speakers on the roof.

I barely noticed the doors to the truck being opened and closed, or you climbing inside - all my energy was focused solely on getting this baby out of me.

“What can I do?” You frantically asked, but only got more guttural noises in reply as I continued to bear down.

Releasing the push with a huff, I panted quickly saying “I think it’s crowning… hoooo…”

“We need to get those leggings off babe. Are you able to move? If you can get on all fours I should be able to roll them down.” You were as white as a sheet but you squashed your fears, knowing I’d need assurance and confidence right now.

Following your instructions I moved to all fours, and I soon felt your hands around my waist pulling at the tight fabric trying to roll it over the large bump and down my thighs. We had to stop part way for another contraction and another round of pushing. The baby’s head was stretching me so wide and I could tell it must be showing through the fabric when I heard you gasp.

“Oh my god, the head is coming out!” You exclaimed.

“I know that! I can feel it.” I snipped sarcastically.

“Sorry honey. You’re doing amazing. But I still need to get these leggings off you…”

I grunt, bearing down once more with the contraction, and I can feel the resistance of the baby hitting the wall of my stretched leggings. When the push was over I cried out “Go! Do it now!” and you scrambled at the waistband of my clothing and rolled the elasticated fabric down my damp thighs.

“Do you want me to take them completely off?” You asked but I could barely think, the next wave was already here and all I could do was push.

I wanted to widen my knees, to open up my burning hips to make the required space for the baby to pass through, but the tight fabric of the leggings pulled around my knees was preventing any further movement. I whimpered in my struggle; I needed to open my body wider and push but I simply couldn’t. In my desperation I went from my hands down to my elbows, my forehead touching the floor, my backside raised to the sky and I pushed with everything I had. I needed to get the head out and I had to get it out now.

“Easy babe,” you said softly, and I could feel your hand over the baby’s emerging head. “Take it steady, it’s crowning. Try and pant if you can, let it come on its own.”

“Hooohooo- oh fuck- I need to get it out…. Can’t hold off- oh I need to push!” I screamed.

Before you could tell me otherwise my body jerked as the head popped out and I groaned at the relief. Lifting my head slightly I bring a trembling hand down my body and between my thighs to feel - your hands were there too, cupping the newly born head of our child. You moved, letting me feel - the ears the nose, the hair - our baby. Your fingers then gently stroked the back of my hand, no words were said as our hands entwined, squeezing each other. The love, encouragement and support all conveyed within that squeeze.

We were suddenly startled by a gentle knocking on the window booth.

“Hey mister, can I have an ice cream please?” The excited voice of a child said from outside the truck.

With the delirium and exhaustion of childbirth I couldn’t help but laugh. You heard my hitched breathing, worried I was crying, and asked “Babe, what is it? Are you okay?”

My laughs got a bit more distinguished as I raised back up onto my hands and twisted to look at you. “This is one hell of a birth story…” I giggled.

“Ha. Maybe this one will take over the family business.” You joke, relieved to see me smiling during this eventful and inconvenient birth. “Sorry kid, no ice cream today.” You shouted through the walls of the truck.

“Oooo- hoooo- babe… mnggghhhh… it’s coming….” I shift and grunt, bracing both hands on the floor and surrendering to the contraction once more. “Fuck… why didn’t we take my leggings off!?”

“Keep going babe, the shoulders are coming. You can do it. Yes!… one shoulder…”

“Grrrrhhhhhhhh!!!!” I groaned loud and long, pushing through the excruciating stretch of the shoulders.

“…two shoulders… and again push honey push!!!!”

“Mnnnghhhh- catch it!!!” I screamed, and a second later the baby fell into your waiting hands and instantly cried.

Tears sprang from my eyes at the sound and I immediately twisted my body and legs around so you could hand me the babe.

“It’s a girl.” You said proudly, putting the slippery newborn against my chest.

“Hi baby… hi.” I cooed, lifting my thin t-shirt and placing her against my chest. “You were in a hurry weren’t you.”

Michael's Medical Mishap

Hi, long time lurker and first time submitter here! Please tag me as #crystal

A young man finds himself unwillingly involved in an experimental procedure that gives him the ability to have children.

Mpreg, rape, forced pregnancy ahead. Please proceed with caution

Michael woke to a bright light against his closed eyelids. He attempted to lift his arm up to shield his face as his head throbbed in time with his heart, but found that both arms had been strapped down. His eyes flung open, then he immediately had to close them against the cold clinical lights shining down into his eyes. A well of anxiety gripped him, and he could feel himself begin to hyperventilate. Where was he?

Bracing himself for the brightness, he squinted as he opened his eyes, trying to figure out exactly what he was doing strapped down to a table. Unfamiliar medical instruments sat on a small metal table beside him. He swallowed thickly, relieved to at least be covered by a medical gown. 

What had happened for him to end up here? 

The last thing he recalled was getting home from his uni lectures, fishing around in his pocket for his house keys. Had he passed out and been brought to the hospital? If so, why had he been restrained? Had he been seizing?

He blinked blearily at the door as he heard it click open, followed by the entrance of a doctor. Something in the man’s placid smile soothed something in Michael’s hammering heart. He didn’t look like someone about to give bad news.

“Michael. You’re awake. Good to see.” The blond man observed, a gentle smile on his face. 

Michael nodded, pressing his lips together as the doctor stepped beside him and took his vitals.

“Uh, Dr…” Michael looked for a name badge and found none. “Uh, sir. Sorry, uh, what am I doing here? What happened?”

The doctor made a small noise of acknowledgement as he typed something into the tablet in his hands, but didn’t answer.

“I’m going to move onto an abdominal examination Michael, I’m going to have to lift up your gown.” He didn’t make it sound like a question, and Michael found himself frowning again. 

“W-what? Why am I here?” He tried again, but the doctor just snapped on some gloves and swiftly pulled up Michael’s gown to expose his bare genitals. Michael squeaked in surprise and pulled against the restraints, trying to move away from the unfamiliar man. “Stop! What are you doing!”

The doctor’s gentle smile turned disapproving, and he put a cold hand on Michael’s flushed skin. “Don’t make me tighten your restraints, this doesn’t need to be hard. Just let me check that everything has progressed well, then I’ll explain.”

Michael stilled, his eyes wide. “Progressed? What? What do you mean?”

The doctor ignored him, palpating his abdomen firmly. It wasn’t an exactly comfortable experience, being poked and prodded. Michael closed his eyes firmly and tried to pretend that he wasn’t exposed to the doctor. His lack of attention meant that when the doctor’s hands moved to his flaccid cock, he yelped.

“What are you doing!!” He demanded again, this time trying to kick out his legs. He didn’t succeed in anything but getting rough friction against his penis as the doctor gripped him firmly. Michael’s face flushed and he tugged until his forearms protested the action.

The doctor didn’t seem pleased, drawing back and typing something else into his tablet. “You’re making things more difficult for yourself, I hope you know that. I was going to get you to turn over yourself, but I don’t think you can be trusted.” The doctor pressed a call button that rang out in the room. Moments later, two burly orderlies stepped through the door. Michael tried to catch a glimpse of the hallway but they moved efficiently through the doorway. 

Between the three men, they were easily able to overpower Michael to get him laying on his front. Once a hand was free, he tried to pull it away to hide his half-hard erection but they just wouldn’t let go! His mouth felt full of cotton, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his head. “Please! Let me go! What are you doing!” He pleaded with them as they manhandled him. The orderlies were unaffected as they strapped him down into position. 

Michael couldn’t see what the doctor was doing now, which unsettled him. What was going on? Why wouldn’t anyone explain what was going on?  

He heard the unmistakable sound of a cap and lube being squeezed out onto gloves. 

“I will be examining your rectum for any irregularities. You need to relax for this process, will you need sedation?” 

Michael shook his head, whether to deny the need for sedation or to avoid the rectal exam, he wasn’t sure. He’d never had a prostate exam before but he was sure that this wasn’t routine for a hospital visit, nor the excessive force to get him into position. 

He felt the slippery fingers rub lubrication around the rim of his asshole, before two pressed inside. Michael let out a little noise of protest and hung his head in shame. Inside, the doctor’s fingers scissored, an uncomfortable but not painful feeling. He tried to shuffle forward to avoid the uncomfortable feeling, but the doctor just pressed in further and brushed against something that sent shivers all through Michael’s groin. He tried to bury his unwilling moans as the doctor added another finger, rubbing across his prostate again. 

Michael couldn’t will away his erection, he could feel it leak onto the sheets below him and he tried not to let the absolute humiliation get to him. No words of reassurance were offered to him, and the fingers moved further forward to something even more sensitive. Michael gasped as the doctor seemed to push into the space, palpating. Michael had never felt something there before, in his own explorations of his body, those nights masturbating with his fingers in himself. He couldn’t find it in himself to ask what it was, not even sure if he’d get an answer.

The fingers were removed abruptly, and Michael couldn’t help feeling bereft, his anus winking closed. He grimaced and tried to hide his face. 

“The implant was successful.” The doctor intoned.

What implant? What the fuck was this man on about?

“You’ve been selected for our experimental breeding program Michael, your body has adapted to the uterus implant beautifully.”

“What??” Michael croaked out, trying to turn to look at the doctor. This had to be some kind of sick joke, right? This man had to be insane.

“Now that I’ve confirmed the viability of your new reproductive organs, let’s test their efficacy, shall we?” There was a hint of amusement in the doctor’s voice.

Within moments, something fleshy and hot pressed against Michael’s empty hole. He let out a shriek as the doctor hoisted his hips up, arching his back for a good angle to press into Michael. He tried to pull away, thrashing and kicking but only succeeded in pulling the doctor’s hot cock further into him.

The quick preparation from the rectal exam hadn’t been enough, and big fat tears rolled down Michael’s cheeks as his hole was stretched beyond anything that he’d had before. “Please stop! Stop!” His cries fell on deaf ears as the doctor grunted above him.

“Hush boy, you’ll be just fine.” The doctor had finally sheathed himself inside fully, pressing against that weird tingly place deep inside. With a snap of his hips, the doctor was thrusting in again and again. Michael couldn’t help the little “uh uh uh”s that left his lips as he was fucked. All fight seemed to drain from his body. It sounded obscene, the slap of the doctor’s balls against his wet sloppy entrance. Michael’s cock dripped more precum below him, his prostate being grazed with almost every slam of the doctor’s cock. 

This was all kinds of wrong, but he’d never felt so good. So right. Heat pooled in his groin as the doctor’s thrusts became almost animalistic, before heat liquid splashed deep inside his hole. Michael let out a breathy moan as his own cock jerked and spilt his own seed all over the bed below. The doctor stilled inside, arm still firmly around Michael’s hips. 

“Good boy, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” The doctor sounded breathless but pleased. Michael shuddered as he pulled out his cock from Michael’s hole, his speed spilling out and down his crack. Michael stifled a sob, hiding his face again as the doctor removed the restraints, removed his ruined gown and turned him on his side. He just felt so defeated, the fight drained out of him with the soreness of his hole and the bruising on his ankles and wrists.

What was the doctor going to do when Michael didn’t miraculously become pregnant? Would he keep trying? Would he let Michael go?

Michael squinted up at the doctor, a miserable frown pulling at his lips as his gut churned. A wave of nausea hit him all at once and he couldn’t clamp his lips closed fast enough to stop himself from vomiting. The doctor seemed to have expected this, holding a plastic vomit bag in front of his face quickly. 

Michael’s head swam, and he vomited once more before fully collapsing back on the bed. Was it the adrenaline crash? The doctor didn’t seem very concerned at all, tapping a few notes on the tablet before smiling at Michael. It made another wave of nausea roll over the young man. 

“Right on track. We’re trialling an accelerated pregnancy paired with the implanted womb so we can get our results quickly.” Michael shook his head at the delusional man, tears welling up again but he didn’t protest. “You look like you’ve changed your attitude, good. The less you fight, the easier this will be.”

The doctor’s hands were back on his abdomen, just resting on the small swell- wait. The small swell?

Michael blinked down at his normally flat abdomen, bloated and still swelling. “Wh-what?” 

The doctor’s eyes didn’t leave his abdomen, “You’re pregnant Michael, with your rate of growth- possibly with twins.” 

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but his mouth clapped shut as an awful stretching feeling spread across his tummy. The small amount of bloating seemed to rapidly increase, a heavy feeling settling inside his abdomen, growing heavier and heavier. Soon, it became harder to take breaths, his lungs compressed with the sheer size and weight of whatever was inside of him.

Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes again, and he began to beg for the doctor to stop whatever was happening to him. 

He just kept swelling, look like he’d swallowed a softball, then a basketball. His belly button was stretched out, threatening to pop out as if he were actually pregnant. The doctor lathered moisturiser onto the bottom of his distended belly before running his hands on the underside. Michael threw his head back as his cock stirred at the attention. 

“Stop it! Stop it! Please!” He begged breathily. He could barely believe the sensations happening in his own body. A fluttering feeling trembled inside his firm abdomen and he cried out at the sensation. Soon enough, these feelings developed into kicks across the surface of his swollen abdomen. 

He had no choice but to accept that he was pregnant. 

“What did you do to me? Get it out! Get it out!” He sobbed as another leg kicked out against his spine. It shot pain all down his back and he writhed at the sensation. The doctor pulled away, pulling out a measuring tape to wrap around his bulging abdomen. Michael couldn’t even see his feet any more, his abdomen looking like he was at least 8 months along.

With a sudden pop, and a small relief of pressure, his belly button sprung out to sit on top of his swollen belly. The doctor made a pleased sound, pressing his fingers into the sensitive skin and causing Michael to moan erotically at the feeling. The doctor’s other hand wrapped around Michael’s cock, jerking it with deft movement. Michael squirmed, causing his swelling belly to move with him. The heavy feeling in his stomach only increase, the baby inside of him upset at the sudden movement.

“Stop! Stop!” He insisted, whimpering at the feeling of that hand around his painfully sensitive cock with the kicking against his ribcage.

“How many have you got in there, you greedy boy? You really loved my seed so much in you that you had to try and grow as much of me in you as you could, did you?” The doctor’s low tone sounded pleased.

Dread wrapped around Michael’s heart. Did that mean…was the doctor implying more than one baby…

That seemed to be an irrefutable fact as Michael’s stomach stretched out further than an overdue belly, to an active overdue twin belly and further. Stretchmarks pulled across his fragile skin, purpled and angrily red. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his belly swelled faster and faster, larger and larger. He wished his hands weren’t restrained so he could relieve some of the pressure on his spine and lungs. Anything but laying on his back while his pregnant form crushed him. The doctor’s sweet tugging of his cock didn’t even distract him from his plight.

“Ple-...please let me… sit up.” He panted.

“No. I like you like this.” The doctor said simply, a cruel smile on his lips as he left Michael’s red cock and pressed his fingertips into Michael’s belly button again and again and again, mimicking the way he’d fucked the boy into becoming pregnant. 

Michael swallowed thickly, trying his best to adjust his position but doing nothing but upset the litter inside of him. His head felt fuzzy, tears run dry for all that he wanted to weep.

He must have been reaching the size of quintuplets by the time his growth settled down, leaving a few precarious moments of pure relief that he wasn’t still growing.

Then his belly dropped.

Michael took a deep breath for the first time since he was impregnated, those agonising minutes ago. Then he wailed loudly as his implanted uterus contracted harshly around his heavy burden. A hard bowling ball felt like it was wedged between his hips, which obviously hadn’t kept up with the rapid growth in his new womb.

“No! Stop it! No!! Get them out!! Help me! Help!” He cried.

“There’s only one way those babes are coming out Michael, and I think you know how.” The doctor rubbed his hands along the huge mountain of womb. 

“Nooo, no no please, I’ll do anything! Please stop it, please.” Michael’s begging didn’t seem to change the doctor’s mind at all, if anything, it seemed to arouse the man as he caressed his stomach and refrained from replying.

Michael breathed harshly through his nose as another vice-like contraction rolled through his abdomen. The babies seemed to protest their treatment inside their home, rolling and kicking to get comfortable. He tried not to let the pained noises escape him, seeing how much the doctor enjoyed hearing them. He could barely wrap his head around the doctor’s forced entrance, let alone the children he’d implanted in him along with a new womb. It was insanity, but it was happening to him. Part of him wished that he could wake up from this nightmare but the clarity of the pain was too real for it to be a dream.

The doctor pulled his hands away, grabbing at one of Michael’s restrained legs and pulling it far open. His legs burned with the stretch, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away.

“Nooo. No no no no no” Michael pleaded.

The doctor continued to tie Michael’s leg far apart from the other, then moved on to the other until Michael’s legs were as spread apart as they could be with a belly as large as his. He placed two fingers back into Michael’s opening, causing the young man cry out. 

“Stop it! What are you doing! Leave me alone!”

“I need to see if your cervix is softening, you can’t move into stage two of labour until your birth canal is ready.” The doctor informed him.

“I don’t have a cervix! I’m a man! I can’t give birth!” Michael wailed hysterically.

The doctor made a tsking sound, then resumed his exploration into the puffy rectum. It was much more loose than it had been even after he’d impregnated the boy, and when he reached up to feel the nub of his cervix, he could feel that it had indeed begun to soften.

Meanwhile, Michael was desperately trying to mask how aroused he was by the doctor’s touch of his new entrance. It was impossible to escape those fingers pressing against it, firm and sure. He took a few shuttering breaths, then began to weep as another contraction encased his large frame. 

The doctor pulled his hand out, satisfied with the boy’s progress and looseness. “You’re doing very well.” He praised.

The next few minutes felt like pure torture, the moments between his rapidly increasing contractions and feeling what had to be his baby’s head slam against his cervix over and over again. He prayed for this moment to end, for it all to end.

Then he let out a primal grunt, and something burst inside him. His waters flowed from his cervix and down into the mess on the bed, joining his cum and making the bed even more uncomfortable. 

“Wh-what just happen-OH” He cut himself off as a stronger contraction than any before gripped him. He could barely think against the pain and pressure of it all. He could feel the head begin to descend into his softened cervix.

“Push with each contraction now, don’t fight it.” The doctor reminded the flushed pregnant man.

As another contraction took hold of Michael, his whole abdomen seemed to squeeze in, desperately trying to expel his babe into the world. The doctor watched as Michael began to strain, his anus bulging a little but no head visible.

“Go on Michael, you can do more than that. You’ve more than just one to push out, so you better make it quick.” 

Michael wailed at that, the idea of having to do this more than once.

He panted out as he waited for another crest of contraction to squeeze him and he bore down. The bowling ball weight crushed past his muscles, engaging his pelvis in the most painful way. Michael wanted to shift his weight, anything to escape the pressure. Flutters and sharp kicks were thrown against his fragile skin and he shuddered. 

“Please, I can’t do this- please.” He begged, sweat beading down his forehead. His chest heaved with every pathetic breath he could take.

The doctor just ignored his pleas, running a hand over Michael's new bulging form.

One more of the near-infinite variety and quantity of ways I'd have you give birth for me is in the post-apocalypse.

You didn't realize you were pregnant when the dead rose. A few months later, you're nearing your due date in a world gone to hell.

I have stashes of food, guns, and various other supplies; when we ran into each other a while ago, you decided you'd be better off staying with me. You like the safety and security I can provide, and I like having you around for… other reasons. Not that you don't enjoy it too, of course.

We're holed up in the basement of a house, and you're deep in labor. We've barricaded ourselves in, and I've done my best to soundproof the place, but it'll still be better if you keep quiet.

Your moans fill the basement as I help you work through the contractions, letting you ride my thigh as you labor, rocking your hips back and forth and rubbing your damp slit against me. You feel so much pressure inside, it's maddening. You beg me to check you and I do, sliding two fingers inside as you angle your hips.

"You're at nine and a half," I pull my fingers out of you, "not quite yet."

"Fuck- So much pressure-"

"That's okay, I've got you. Can you give me little pushes? Just short, little grunts to help you open up the last bit."

You're already panting desperately as you try to hold back. You know that if you give in even a little, you'll be bearing down full force almost instantly. You shake your head, "No, I can't, please, I-"

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay. Just keep breathing for me, then. It's just a little longer, and then you'll be able to push, okay?"

"No, I can't do this! I'm not ready!"

"Yes you can, you've got this. You're nearly there now. Hang on a little longer for me and then you'll be ready." I grip your hips and gently guide you backwards and forwards, encouraging you to keep rubbing on me to help relieve some of that pressure and distract you from your current situation.

Outwardly, I do my best to sound encouraging, but inwardly I'm a little worried about the noise you might make. I've done my best to soundproof things, but it'll still be safer if you stay quiet. There is a back door we can escape through, but I'd rather not have to use it under these circumstances.

I help hold your belly, encouraging you to keep breathing as you wait out the last of your labor. You beg me, again, to check you, and when I do I find that you're fully dilated. "Push, now. Let your baby come. I've got you."

You're scared. Scared of the pain that's to come. Scared of making too much noise. Scared of what taking care of a baby in this godforsaken world might be like. You can't fight your body, though, and you bear down hard, leaning forward and grunting with the effort.

I feel the head move down inside you, pressing against my fingers as you push. When you take a brief rest, I help you reposition to a squat to make sure the head will have room to come out.

You push again, and I put my hand over your slit, tight and small. "Come on now, bring your baby down." You push again, and I feel the head start to bulge your opening. "That's it, keep going."

You feel a sudden surge of pressure inside you. You have no choice but to roll with it, bearing down forcefully and suddenly. I feel the head lurch forward, filling my hand too suddenly to react. This sudden movement takes your slit from a slight discomfort, as the head starts to make you bulge, to a searing, burning agony in less than a second.

You cry out at the sudden pain, "AAAAAAH FUCK-" before you clamp your hands over your mouth. Your eyes water from the sudden stretch, but you keep your pain to yourself. Neither of us make a sound, listening intently to see if you have attracted any attention. The silence stretches on and on. You're far too scared to keep pushing, so you pant, as quietly as you can, feeling the head slowly slip back inside you. We're both about to let our guard down again when we hear it. A bang, a thud, another, then a few more. We're not alone anymore.

You feel your heart leap into your throat. They're here, and they're coming in, and it's because YOU couldn't keep quiet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you cry quietly, "I tried to hold back, really, but now they're gonna get in and they're gonna eat-"

"Hey, hey, no. No they're not. We knew this might happen, right? That's what backup plans are for, in case exactly this happened. We'll be okay, but we have to get moving."

The backup plan could be broadly summarized as "get the hell out of here and go somewhere safe." While this sounds simple enough, it meant that we would have to cross through some rather dangerous territory, crawling with those things to get to any of our other safehouses. This would be a daunting prospect at the best of times, nevermind when one of us is in active labor, with a head already crowning.

We would have just a few minutes before we'd need to leave. I gather some essential supplies and help you get dressed: shoes, pants, a jacket - there isn't time for anything more as a loud crash signals our time to depart.

You do your best to try to move normally despite the overwhelming fullness between your legs. You feel like you should be waddling, or, better yet, squatting down right where you are and pushing your baby out, but you carry on regardless. When the contractions come, you breathe through them. Every part of you screams to stop moving and deliver right now, but the occasional sight of the dead wandering the streets and my insistent tugging at your arm both help keep you moving. You cup one hand over your the bulging head and press upwards whenever you can, shoving your baby back inside you. It's agonizing, and it always makes you stumble, but I'm there to help catch you and keep you moving.

This doesn't last forever, though. The more you're on your feet, the more intense and frequent your contractions get, and the stronger your body's urge to push becomes. You start leaning on me more and more for support with each contraction, and I do my best to pull you forward while you try to hold your baby in, pressing your hands upward against the head and panting away as much of the pressure as you can.

You're slowing down, but it shouldn't matter too much, we're nearly at our destination. We peek around the final corner, only to be confronted with the backs of a sea of the living dead. The distant sound of gunshots should've been our clue. Some idiots had broken into our safehouse and started shooting from the windows. They have sealed their own fate - there isn't nearly enough ammunition in there to kill that whole crowd - and possibly ours as well. There's another safehouse not that much farther away we can head to, but-

"I'm not sure I can make it," you groan. The pressure in your hips is just too much. You're leaning up against the wall, pushing as gently as you can, but you can still feel your baby starting to slide out of you despite your efforts. I can just barely get my hand over the head in time before you're bearing down fully, a hand over your mouth to muffle your moaning.

I keep my hand over the head, pressing firmly upward to counter the force of your pushing. "No," I glance around nervously, "not here, not now. Something could come around the corner at any second - we have to keep moving." You groan in protest as you continue to push, but when the contraction ends you understand that you really can't deliver here.

We set off again, but that last push seems to have opened the floodgates. The pressure in your hips gets stronger and stronger over time, and it's not too long before you're bearing down at least a little bit with each contraction. Sometimes it's so bad that you have to stop completely, panting desperately as I help you hold the head in as much as I can. Between contractions, you can feel your baby slipping just a little farther downwards with each step you can take. It's all you can do to slow the head down with your hand as it slides out of you, to try to make sure we don't have to stop too often.

As you start to slow down more and more, it becomes increasingly clear that we're just not going to make it to our destination, that we need to find somewhere closer for you to give birth. There's a small, two-story office building nearby - it should be relatively empty and have at least two exits - and we head for that.

The windows to the ground floor are all smashed, but after a little trouble getting you up the stairs, the second floor looks reasonably empty. We both want to take a minute to catch our breath, but your baby won't wait. Very soon you're squatting on the break-room floor with your pants around one ankle.

"Okay, I know you really have to push right now, but we're not really safe here. Let's try to keep this slow and quiet. Can you give me some light pushes for now?"

You shake your head as you bear down. Your body is not going to tolerate any more delays, it wants this baby out yesterday.

"Alright then." I cup my hand against your bulging slit, pressing against the head to give you more time to get used to the stretch. "Can you stay quiet like this?"

"Mm-hm." You bear down again, hard and silent, not letting even a groan escape. You feel your hole start to burn as the head stretches you open again and when your contraction ends you pant rapidly, breathing through the stretch.

"Good, good. You're opening up so well. Keep going just like that, slow and quiet. With the next contraction, I'm going to let the head out a little more. Let me know when it starts to stretch you too much, okay?"

"Okay."

You push again, and I let the head out slowly, watching your face. At first, you're calm and collected, but as the head starts to stretch you more and more I see you first wince and then throw your head back in pain. The head only makes it a little farther out before-

"Hold it."

I keep the head there while you finish your push, and for the next contraction as well, before you're ready for me to let it stretch you out a little more. We settle into a routine like that, easing the head out a little more with every other contraction, making no more than soft grunts and whispers in the process. Eventually, though, you can't keep up this rate of stretch anymore as the head continues to open you wider and wider.

"Owwwwwwwww," you moan softly after I try to let the head out before you're ready for it.

"Hey, baby, I don't think this is working anymore. I'm going to try touching your clit, to see if that'll help open you up."

I put my fingers on you, gently at first, and you gasp a little at the stimulation. Your clit is stretched out and oversensitive, and it doesn't take much before you start to moan softly. I shush you a little, but keep my fingers on you as you push again. You struggle and squirm, but you do manage to keep breathing quietly as the head moves out a little farther. I keep the head there until my fingers on your clit help you accommodate the new stretch, and you're ready for me to move my hand again.

The head slides out of you, stretching you bit by bit, achingly slowly. You're stretched so wide, your slit feels like it's on fire. You struggle to keep quiet, to keep your noises restricted to heavy breathing and soft moans, but the extremely slow way you've been stretching and the "help" I've been giving your clit has barely been enough to allow you to stay quiet.

"Haaaaaa- It burns so baaaad-" you whisper to me.

"I know, just keep breathing through it, okay? I'll help you take it nice and slow."

You still struggle, though, with the last little bit of the head. For all your breathing and clit stimulation, there's a point you just can't stretch past without making more noise than either of us is willing to risk. We stay like that for a long time, you squatting on the floor, breathing deeply to try to accommodate the stretch of the head, me with my hand between your legs, toying with your clit and pressing back against the head. It seems like we're stuck there, unable to just slide the last part of the head out and unwilling to force it.

Eventually, though, you start to feel something building up inside you. Despite all your pain, despite all your fear, my steady effort on your clit is starting to have an effect. I increase the pressure a little and you feel an orgasm start to build up.

"Okay, I need you to push when you cum. Whether you have a contraction or not, just bear down and get the head out, okay? That might be out best shot at getting the wide part out without making too much noise."

You agree to the plan before going back to breathing through the stretching of your slit. I increase the pressure on your clit again, and it's not very long at all before, between two contractions-

"Nnn- Cumming- Hnnn-" You push hard as orgasm washes over you. This time, I don't hold the head back and you feel it stretch you wider, wider, WIDER- OH GOD IT HURTS PLEASE- you jerk as the head pops out of you into my waiting hands, but don't let out more than a small grunt of surprise.

You're ready to push out the shoulders, but I stop you before you push again. "Wait, hang on a second. Let me-"

You pant heavily, feeling like the shoulders are about to slide out of you no matter whether you push or not, but you hold off for a minute, regardless. I decide to sacrifice my shirt to catch the baby with, to make sure they're not born onto the floor.

"Okay, push now."

You don't really push so much as just let the shoulders slip out of you, into my waiting hands. I help to pull a little, and the hips and legs slide out of you in short order. I wrap them - her as it turns out - up and hand her to you.

"Okay, let's get out of here."

Requested by and written for @bulgingpush Hope you enjoy - Me