You Can't Be Pushing Now. I Lean Forward And Maneuver My Hand So I Can Get My Fingers Into Your Pussy.

Keep That Crown 

Ask: No. 19 during a dystopian tv game show where contestants have to do ridiculous physical challenges while fully dilated and ready to push. Last one to fully give birth wins fabulous prizes. 

Thank you Anon, this is the most amazingly ridiculous prompt ever and was a joy to write. The story is completely satire, unrealistic, and purely for entertainment purposes. Special thanks to the talented @exponenshul for writing the third challenge, and to @gravid-transluna for being my incredible beta. You’re both amazing humans! 💜 (8k words)

Prompt: “I can’t stop it… nnghhh I’m pushingg!”

~•~

"Goooooood evening guys and girls. It's Saturday night, we're live, and welcome to another episode of..." "Keep That Crown!" Cheers the studio audience.

The TV presenter, Danny, continues. "For those of you who are new to our little corner of television, this is a game show where we take five mothers-to-be and put them to the test in a number of household challenges. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, the catch is that each mum-to-be is in active labour...and fully dilated! Whoever can complete all five challenges without giving birth has a chance to win our grand prize, and the last one standing will win a whopping £100,000.00!"

"Oooooooh." The audience awes on cue.

"Now let's meet tonight's contestants." Danny says with a staged smile, his overly white teeth glinting under the spotlights. Walking across the studio floor the camera pans to five heavily pregnant women, each standing behind a podium displaying their name. "Contestant number one is Mandy. She's 41 weeks pregnant with her first baby, a girl. How are you doing tonight Mandy?" The presenter asks casually.

"Ooof- I'm good thanks Danny. Focused and ready for the challenges. It's my first baby so hoping that works in my favour... hooooo...." A contraction cuts off Mandy's fighting talk and she grips the podium and hangs her head, panting heavily.

"First time mums are usually the most successful at this game, so good luck, Mandy! Next up we have Anna." The TV presenter walks across to the next pregnant woman, who's holding her contracting belly and swaying her hips side to side. "Anna is also a first time mum-to-be, 39 weeks pregnant with a baby boy. Do you think you're going to win tonight, Anna?"

"Mnnnghh I'm gonna g-give it my best shot." Anna says timidly with a grimace and a forced smile.

"Contestant number 3 is Becky. Becky is 37 and a half weeks pregnant with her third baby. Some of you eagle eyed viewers may recognise Becky from her second pregnancy and birth. You were unsuccessful last time, managing only two rounds before the head popped out during the dishwasher challenge. Reckon you can make it to the final round this time, Becky?"

"I hope so... hooohooo.... But ohh, this labour came on quicker than expected.... Mnnnnngh, three hours from first contraction to full dilation. But I'm hoping this little one can stay in a bit longer." Becky's cheeks were flushed pink and the sweat glistened on her forehead. Her tight leggings showed just how wide her gait was and every couple of minutes her knees bounced.

"Well, good luck to you Becky." Danny said before turning directly towards the camera. "Looks like she's going to need it." He added with a laugh and a wink.

"Now, next up we have Claudia. Another first time mum, 40 weeks pregnant exactly." The brunette was in the midst of a contraction and merely waved at the camera before holding on to the podium and groaning under her breath.

"And finally we have Niamh. Niamh is 37 weeks pregnant and this is a first for Keep That Crown - she's pregnant with twins!" Danny announced to a cheer from the audience. "You caused quite the discussion with our producers Niamh, as you're pregnant with two lovely healthy babies, we had to decide what the rules would be. Now, even though you're carrying two, you will need to keep both babies from being born in order to qualify for the final round. Reckon you can do that?"

"Definitely, Danny!" Niamh answered confidently. "Twins run in my family, but so do long labours. I'm here to win!"

She planted her hands on her hips and grinned. Her bump was bigger and lower than any of the other contestants and yet she seemed the most relaxed and sure of herself.

"That's the spirit Niamh!" Danny said. "Okay, now that we've met the contestants, let's start the challenges!!" He walked over to a new part of the stage, which was set up like a mini grocery store. The contestants followed, albeit more slowly.

"The first challenge is our iconic grocery shop challenge." Danny explained to the five labouring mothers. "Each of you have been given a shopping list of 7 different items. Your task is to go through our pretend supermarket, collect all the items on your list, and make it back to your podiums. You can use either a basket or the trolly to carry your items, but all items must be back here before the time is up. And remember, no matter how much you want to push, you just have to..."

"Keep that crown!" Shouts the studio audience.

"On your marks, get set.... GO!"

Niamh and Becky were first off the mark and waddled quickly towards the pretend supermarket. They both grabbed a trolly and rushed up and down the aisles of food, searching feverishly for their items. Anna and Mandy were quick to follow, and they chose the handheld basket option. Claudia, however, hadn't left her original position.

"Claudia, you need to move if you're going to collect all your items before the time runs out..." Danny tried to encourage the mum-to-be, but she was groaning loudly and gripping the podium tight.

"Ohhhhhh god. It's so low.... The pressure...." She whimpered.

"Don't push, Claudia. You've got to keep that crown!"

She staggered forward on unsteady legs and eventually reached the supermarket trolly. Barely making it down one aisle, Claudia stopped and squatted, holding on to the cart with a white-knuckled grip.

"Looks like Claudia is already pushing...that was fast. She'd better hope the baby doesn't come out any further or she's not even going to make it through the first challenge!" Danny narrates the scene whilst the camera follows each woman around the store.

Anna and Mandy were throwing items into their baskets, rushing quickly between contractions. Niamh and Becky had already got the first few items in their trolley’s. Whilst Niamh was ploughing ahead, Becky was struck by a forceful contraction and was bracing herself against an aisle. The third-time mother had one hand between her legs and she was mooing slightly under her breath.

Claudia managed to get one item in her trolley but soon gave up completely, crumpling to the floor on all fours and actively pushing her baby out. The bulge in her leggings could be seen appearing and then slipping back again.

"And Niamh is the first one back! Impressive with her twin-filled bump. She's closely followed by Anna and Mandy." Danny joined the returning mothers who were bent over and panting back at their stands. "Becky is still working her way around the store, but seems to be struggling. And- uh oh, Claudia!"

The camera cuts to Claudia on all fours by the frozen foods, the distinctive outline of a fully birthed head now protruding her clothing.

"Aaaand we have our first birth, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, Claudia was not able to get through the first challenge and is now delivering her baby in aisle 3!" Danny enthusiastically announced.

The cameras kept their focus on Claudia as she pushed and pushed, but cut back to the TV host when the medical team went over to undress the birthing mother and help deliver the baby.

The sound of a baby crying filled the studio, and the show went to commercial break.

~•~

"Welcome back to Part 2 of Keep That Crown! We have four ladies left in the competition with just as many challenges still to go." Danny said while giving an award-winning smile to the camera.

"Next up is our infamous dishwasher challenge. Looking at you, Becky!" The presenter jokes and the camera cuts to the labouring mother in question. Becky is sweating and holding her extremely low baby bump and rolls her eyes.

Danny continues explaining to the audience at home. "In this challenge, our mums-to-be are tasked with unloading a dishwasher. Now, I've never been pregnant myself so at first, I didn't fully understand why this task would be a challenge. However, since working on this show, I've come to realise just how difficult it is for a heavily pregnant woman to load and unload a dishwasher. It may sound easy, folks, but this challenge has got the better of quite a few mums over the years. Not to mention our current contestant, Becky."

Danny, followed by the camera, travels across the studio to talk to the mums. "Now last time Becky, when you were birthing your second child, this was the challenge that got you. Do you think you'll fare any better tonight?" The presenter asked.

"I don't know Danny... mnghhhh... this baby is pretty desperate to- ugh!- come out." Becky's hands were holding her bump as she swayed side to side, knees dipping whenever she grunted.

"It certainly sounds that way!" Danny's eyebrows raised at the deep groans coming from this third-time-mum. "Now, if you could all make your way over to your allocated dishwashers."

Danny followed the women to the dishwasher setup and began to instruct. "Each of you has an identical dishwasher filled with crockery, cutlery and glassware. Your task is to get all the items out of the machine and stacked on top. You can start on the sound of the buzzer. Three... two... one..."

A klaxon is heard blaring across the studio and the music starts.

Each of the four contestants seemed to approach the challenge in a different way, and Danny began commentating on the challenge as it unfolded.

"First-time mums Mandy and Anna, each carrying one baby and having the smallest bumps of the group, have gone for the regular, forward bend. Mandy is attempting the bottom tray first, starting with the plates and crockery in the most cumbersome of the locations, whereas Anna has decided to tackle the glassware on the top tray, perhaps waiting to build herself up for the more difficult lower level.

"And Becky, our darling returning mum-to-be, has clearly made a strategy after last time. She's taken a new approach of kneeling on the ground beside the dishwasher, picking up plates and putting them on top of the machine. There'll be less physical movement with this choice, but whether her strategy pays off - time will tell." "And lastly we have our mum of twins Niamh. With the biggest belly, carrying two very healthy babies, doesn't have the option of the forward bend and is clearly not sure about getting down onto her knees. What is she going to do ladies and gentlemen?.... Oh, wow. That's a risky move from Niamh!"

The expectant mum of twins was rather nimbly dropping into a deep squat, her obscenely large belly hanging low between her jackknifed thighs and brushed the ground. Collecting a few plates and holding them against her bump in one arm, she pulls herself back to standing to place them above the machine. Seconds later, she's squatting again, collecting the side plates and bowls.

"Wow. Our Irish beauty Niamh is flying ahead in this challenge, but her method is risky and we have never ever seen it used successfully before." Danny's tone showed he was impressed.

Becky had managed to unload half of the bottom tray before she started to obviously struggle. Her knees slide wider on the studio floor, another contraction tightening up her bump and contorting it into a hard round ball. Bracing the tops of her thighs her hips sunk low to the ground and she grunted long and deep.

"Oh no!" Danny cried out. "Looks like Becky is pushing again. Her third baby is eager to join us."

The camera zooms in on the labouring woman; her face red and splotchy with the effort of birth. She was panting and groaning heavily, and from the low angle of the camera, the bulge in her leggings was undeniable. Shouts began to arise from the studio audience. "Don't push!" "Keep that crown!"

"Come on Becky, this challenge bested you last time- don't let it happen again! Keep that crown, mumma!" Danny encouraged.

The third time mum couldn't stop pushing, so in desperation she placed a hand between her thighs to stop the baby coming out any further. Becky grunted forcefully again into her palm and when the contraction was over and her hand removed, the head still appeared to be at a full crown inside her clothing, but was no longer moving. Becky exhaled, shook her head, and continued to remove the remaining items in her dishwasher.

"Anna is flying ahead in this challenge, closely followed by Niamh - those twins seem happy to stay in her belly." Danny observed. "...But it looks like Mandy is starting to struggle."

The soon to be mum was bent over the dishwasher, bracing her thighs and circling her hips, all thoughts of the challenge momentarily forgotten. Her heavy belly squished up tight, contracting forcefully and trying to evict its occupant. She whimpered and wailed as her baby sunk lower and lower, stretching her wide, desperate to be born.

"Uh oh, looks like she's struggling to keep that baby in. The question is.... Will she push?" Danny teased joyfully, adding drama to the already chaotic scenes.

Mandy could be seen muttering to herself under her breath.... Don't push don't push don't push... And yet her efforts were in vain, as the labouring mother soon dropped into a deep squat and bore down, groaning loudly.

"Mandy- hooooo... no! Don't p-push!!" Anna tried to encourage her fellow contestant, breathing heavily as she placed her final item on top of the dishwasher completing the challenge.

"Nnngghhhhh... I can't stop it! I'm pushing!!" Mandy cried, letting out a primal grunt. The bulge between her open legs got bigger and bigger as she pushed, the baby slipping further between her folds and into her tight leggings.

"Aaaaand Anna is the first to complete the challenge!" Danny announces loudly to the studio. "But it looks like we have yet another mother falling at the dishwasher hurdle. Mandy, that baby is almost out.... If the head comes fully out, you are out of the competition."

"Oh god! No..... it's coming out!!!!" Mandy groaned, her body working of its own accord, bearing down and pushing the giant head through her opening. The unmistakable cry of relief that followed told everyone in the studio that the baby's head had been born.

"That leaves three remaining contestants; Anna has finished the task, closely followed by Niamh. Darn, I was sure all that squatting was going to result in a birth- but well done to Niamh! Who do we have left? Oh yes, Becky." Danny smiled and walked beside the labouring mother as she tried to complete the task. "How are we doing Becky?"

"Mnnghhh!" Becky apparently could not speak, putting all her focus and energy on the two tasks - unloading the dishwasher and not birthing her baby. Her knees were wide as she knelt on the floor, the baby's head way beyond a full crown but not quite fully born. She huffed as she picked up the last remaining item, her body trembling as she reached up to place the small plate on the top of the machine, the crockery clinking as she shook whilst stretching up, desperately trying to get that final item in place and complete the challenge that had previously beaten her.

"YES!!!" She cried when the plate slipped onto the pile of clean dishes, and panted heavily with relief. Whoops and cheers rang out from the audience.

"You did it!!!! Well done Becky." Danny exclaimed. "Now, let's go to commercial break, giving our mothers a well-earned rest-" ...the sound of Mandy grunting and pushing in the background briefly interrupted the TV host... "-and also to let Mandy birth her baby girl. Be back in five, folks!"

~•~

Shortly thereafter, Danny and the contestants were lined up for the next challenge, each woman now standing in front of a wardrobe.

"Welcome back to Keep That Crown, where we've had an exciting first two rounds!" Danny announced. "Let's take a moment to check up on our contestants before we move on, shall we?"

He walked over to Anna, who was holding out strong, but definitely getting tired. She was sweating profusely and cradling her low, heavy belly.

"So, what are your thoughts on the challenges so far, Anna?" Danny asked.

"Umm...hmm." Anna muttered, obviously not focused on answering questions. "It's tough. But...hngggh...I think I can h-hold on."

"Let's hope!" Danny said, striding over to the next contestant. "And how are you feeling, Niamh?"

"Feeling good!" Niamh proclaimed, patting her belly. She was breathing heavier and a few beads of sweat could be detected on her forehead, but otherwise she was looking fine. "Ready for another round."

Danny nodded. "Well, that certainly was an impressive feat you pulled off in the last challenge!" He chuckled, then continued on to the last remaining contestant. "And, Becky..."

Becky was standing shamelessly in a somewhat bow-legged position, a massive bulge still in her leggings, as big as before and dripping fluid through her clothes. Surely she was only one small push away from birthing the head. Her whole body was practically shaking from the effort of keeping her baby in.

"...I'm just surprised that baby hasn't budged at all," Danny said frankly.

Becky grunted and her jaw clenched. "Just...get on with the- huuuhh- challenge," She grumbled, stowing one hand between her trembling thighs.

Danny returned to his side of the stage. "All right, time for round three! This one is the Dress-Up challenge. Each contestant has been provided with a wardrobe. Inside is a dress which you must change into, as if you were getting ready for your very own baby shower! Once that's complete, you'll have to return the dress and change back into your regular clothes."

The contestants gave each other exasperated looks. Getting changed is hard work for a pregnant woman even on a normal day... doing it while deep in labour was going to be tough.

"On your marks...get set...go!!" Danny hollered.

The women turned toward their wardrobes and opened them up. They each had an identical dress, with loose, thin cloth that was sure to fit their maternal bodies. Getting it on would be the hard part.

Becky grabbed the dress right away, but she looked over and saw the women next to her starting to take off their tops and bottoms. She looked over at Danny. "Uhh...do we need to strip down to our underwear for this challenge...?"

"Yes, that's usually part of getting changed..." Danny said with a chuckle. The audience laughed along with him.

Becky gulped. "Nngh...o-okay..."

Niamh had already removed her top and was shimmying her leggings down over her hips, leaving her in only a bra and panties.

Anna followed suit, but had to stop before getting her shirt over her head due to a contraction. She doubled over and groaned, gripping her belly. "Oohhh...hoo, God, I dunno if I can do this..."

Meanwhile, Becky was still looking between herself and the dress, only slowly starting to lift her shirt up as her baby's crowning head continued to burden her. It seemed the stress was getting to her.

Niamh sat her clothes off to the side and grabbed the dress. She paused for a contraction, but it barely seemed to phase her. She bent over a bit and exhaled deeply before quickly righting herself.

Anna was now struggling with getting off her leggings. She'd chosen to wear extra tight leggings, hoping they would help hold in the baby in an emergency. But now, after working up a sweat, the fabric clung to her. She was able to roll them down past her hips, but another contraction struck. She squatted just a tad, on shaky legs. "Mmmggghh come on!"

Beside her, Niamh had pulled the dress up over her head, knowing that was the only way it was fitting around her big twin bump.

Becky had only just removed her shirt. She was standing there in her bra and tented-out leggings, clutching her firm belly and muttering to herself.

"Becky?" Danny called out, not sure what was going on. "You should strip down a little quicker if you want to carry on with the challenge..."

Becky gulped again, then nodded. "O-okay..."

Anna had gotten her leggings to her ankles, but as she tried to kick them off, her belly cramped again and she fell forward onto her knees. She grimaced and cried out. "Nooooo aghhh I can feel it coming! I-I don't wanna puuush!"

"Folks, Anna says she doesn't want to push...but will her body agree?!" Danny wondered aloud. The audience focused their attention on the poor labouring woman.

Anna clenched her fists, grunting through the contraction. Now in just her panties, it was all the more clear that she was starting to bulge from the baby's head...

Suddenly, a gasp from the audience. "Wait...what's that? What's she wearing?!"

People turned their heads toward the cause of her outcry. The TV cameras pointed toward Becky, and Danny's jaw dropped when he saw what was happening.

Becky had gotten her leggings down to her knees but the act had revealed her secret weapon. Beneath her leggings and over her underwear, she was wearing a thick leather belt with material that went over her crotch.

Murmurs began to rise in the audience. "Is that... a chastity belt?" "For real? Is that allowed?"

Becky blushed, both from embarrassment and exertion.

Danny was flabbergasted. "Well, I've never seen this, folks...Becky was wearing a leather chastity belt the whole time!"

More audience comments. "Wow, how did she hide that?" "No wonder she was able to hold that baby in!"

"Now, as we know, cheating or giving yourself any unfair advantage is strictly against the rules..." Danny said solemnly. "So, I'm afraid that means I'm going to have to disqualify you from the competition, Becky."

Cameras zoomed in as tears welled in Becky's eyes. "I'm...sorry," she whimpered. "I just...wanted to win so badly this time...but- hnnnngggaaah!"

She was cut off as another contraction hit her. She fell to her knees, and it was clear she was pushing as hard as she could. But no matter how hard she pushed, the baby's head couldn't fully emerge with the leather in the way. She groaned heavily. "Gghh...but...I give up! I'm done! Someone- nngngghhh- just get this belt off of me! The baby needs to come OUT!"

The medics rushed over while the studio audience reeled from the chaos. The cameras turned back to Danny, who was still somewhat in shock. "Well, that was certainly something, folks! We have only two contestants remaining, now. Let's see how they're doing."

Neither Niamh nor Anna let themselves be too distracted by what transpired- they had more important things to focus on. Niamh had fully put on her dress and was taking a minute to pose in it for the cameras. Anna had resisted the urge to push for the time being, and was now grabbing her own dress. She adorned it in a very stiff manner, trying not to move around too much and risk wanting to bear down again.

Niamh removed her dress with ease, but as she was reaching for her original clothes again, a contraction gripped her. This time, she leaned against her wardrobe and groaned, rubbing her belly. She turned her head down and winced, and it looked like she may have finally been starting to falter.

"What are you feeling, Niamh?" Danny asked, trying to sound engaged again after the previous incident. "Hang on, you're almost there!"

"Mmghh...not pushing yet, Danny!" Niamh said, returning to her confident demeanour. She grabbed her clothes and stood back up fully.

Anna had gotten her dress on, but was hunched over again, cradling her swell. "Hooo...gghh...it wants to come out...s-so bad..." She glanced over at Danny. "Can I just...nngggh...keep the dress on?"

"The challenge isn't complete until you change back into your regular clothes!" Danny insisted. Anna groaned and began trying to strip the dress off.

Niamh was once more working at a surprisingly fast pace. With her dress cast aside, she was able to quickly get her clothes back on. It took a bit of time to wrestle her shirt back over her big bump, but once it was on, she raised her arms in victory. The audience cheered.

"It looks like Niamh has completed the challenge! That just leaves Anna- will she make it?" Danny announced.

Anna now had her shirt back on and was gripping her leggings in one hand, but she was riding through another contraction. She leaned on her arms against the wardrobe, her hips angled back.

"Ooohh...ooh, no, baby...nnggghh!" The labouring woman moaned. She tensed up, and her panties bulged out just slightly. The baby was starting to crown. "Guh...I just...gotta get these leggings back on..."

After a few rounds together and only two contestants left, the audience was getting invested. They began to chant, "Go! Go! Keep that crown!"

Mustering her strength, Anna bent down and started to put on her leggings. She was sweating, and it took a great deal of effort to pull the fabric up around her shaky legs. She grunted and panted, trying to keep her legs together long enough to get the leggings over her thighs and hips, even though she desperately wanted to spread them and push.

After a couple minutes of struggle, Anna was finally able to hike her leggings up tight around her waist. She felt between her legs and gave a small sigh of relief, knowing that there was more of a barrier over the emerging head now.

Danny clapped along with the audience. "Well done, Anna! That's round three done. Let's take a quick break and set up for the fourth challenge!"

~•~

“Welcome back to Keep That Crown.” Danny said straight to camera with his best showbiz smile. “If you are just joining us you have missed one hell of an episode so far; three babies born, a set of twins still on the way and our first case of cheating by chastity belt. You certainly won’t get all that on any other show!” 

The camera zooms out and reveals Danny is standing between two heavily pregnant women. “We have two mums-to-be left in the competition - the lovely Anna on my left, expecting a little boy, and the incredible Niamh on my right, who is carrying twins. Now girls, we’re over half-way through the competition now and it’s just the two of you left. How are you feeling Anna?” 

Standing behind her podium Anna pants heavily, her face flushed, gripping her belly and forcing a smile. “It’s— it’s definitely getting tougher. Hooooo… it’s so hard not to p-push….” Her feeble voice whimpers with another contraction and Danny takes the cue and turns his attention to Niamh. 

“And Niamh, you have been storming through these challenges, and you are carrying two babies in there.” He nods and pats Niamh’s obscenely large belly drooping from her hips. “Have you been struggling to resist the urges to push as well?” 

“Well having two of them in there certainly adds a level of difficulty but… mnnnhhh… it’s been okay so far. Just need to breathe through those u-urges…” Niamh’s confident words ring out across the studio but her knees bend subtly, her hands cupping the underside of her gravid swell as one of the baby’s head sinks and presses even lower. 

“There are two more challenges to go. Let’s hope you both can make it through round four. For this challenge each of you will be given a baby doll, your task will be to change the baby’s nappy, dress the baby, and get them into the pram. Don’t worry Niamh, unlike real life you don’t have to do this twice. You each get one baby.” 

The Irish mum laughed through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool through the increasing contractions. 

“If you two lovely ladies follow me.” Danny instructed, walking the labouring mothers to a new corner of the television studio. Both mothers were walking more and more bow-legged by the minute, but followed silently behind the host. 

“As you can see there are three parts to this challenge; nappy change, dressing baby, and the pram. And I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking “Oh but Danny, you’ve forgotten to set up the prams” but we haven’t.” The TV host smirked to the camera and the audience at home. “Prams these days are so nifty, collapsing into the smallest space to fit easily into the boot of your cars. You will have to work out how to open the pram in order to safely strap your baby doll into the seat.” 

Niamh nodded in understanding, her eyes already analysing the pram in question and its potential latches. Anna meanwhile looked hesitant, nervous, holding her belly and swaying her hips in rapid movements to try and alleviate the relentless pressure between them. 

“Right, Anna you stand here. And Niamh you stand here.” Danny ushered the labouring women to their respective stations for the challenge. “Any questions?” 

“C-can we get any h-help with the pram? Like a partner?” Anna stuttered, trying to steady her breath and her spasming womb. 

“I’m afraid no help is allowed. You have to do all parts of this challenge by yourself. And you can’t leave the baby on the changing mat when you set up the pram, they could roll off, so you must carry them and put them in the pram.” 

Anna paled briefly, looking like she might faint or throw up. 

“On your marks… get set… go!!” Danny cheered and the tense but upbeat music of the challenge sounded around the studio. 

It was neck-and-neck through the first part of the challenge, with both Niamh and Anna confidentially removing the nappy from the toy baby and wrapping a new one over the bottom half of the doll. They weren’t competing for the quickest time, they just had to complete the challenge from start to finish, but even without the time pressure the urgency was clear from the expressions of both women. They wanted this challenge done so they could be one step closer to birthing their babies. 

Unsurprisingly, Niamh finished the nappy change first. The Irish mother was already an audience favourite and steaming ahead in this game. However, before she could pick up the baby clothes to dress the doll her eyes suddenly widened and she curled forward over her large twin-filled belly, gripping the edge of the wooden change table in a death grip. 

“Mmmghhh— oh god!!!!” Niamh groaned loudly as her belly visibly contracted and squashed her babies lower towards their exit. “Fuck…. I can f-feel a head….hoohoohoo…” 

“Oh no, looks like our fan-favourite is starting to struggle.” Danny said excitedly. 

Groaning deeply. Niamh squeezed her grip on the changing table and screwed her eyes shut. “Nngh—! The pressure—” the Irish mother grunted and her knees dipped and widened. 

Seeing her competition struggling, Anna bit her lip through the contraction and quickly pulled the clothing onto her doll and finished the first and second part of the challenge in rapid time. As she stepped towards the pram, the toy baby in arms, it was clear that Anna was racing against more than just her competitor. Her hand lowered, trembling with the effort of denying her instincts, and felt the partially crowned head. “Come on baby…. Just a little bit longer.” Her quiet words to her child were picked up on the microphone and an encouraging cheer erupted from the audience. 

With one arm holding the fake baby, Anna had to work out how to open the pram single-handed. Huffing her way through contractions, red-faced and sweating, Anna pulled and twisted the handle but the pram remained in its collapsed state. 

Niamh meanwhile had survived the aggressive contraction but in her desperation had clamped a hand between her thighs to try and keep herself from pushing. She was now attempting to dress the baby one-handed which wasn’t very successful. 

“Niamh, you’re going to have to work with both hands if you want to keep your winning streak.” Danny said to the contestant over the audience's cheers. 

“But— but it feels like the baby is slipping o-out….” Niamh was frazzled, overcome with the sensations of birth and her cool confidence was fast unravelling. 

“Uh oh— Niamh says the baby is slipping out. What does she need to do ladies and gentlemen?” Danny asked the excitable studio audience who responded with a chorus of “KEEP THAT CROWN!” 

“Ooohhhhhh…. Danny!!! The pram… it just w-won’t o-open!!!!” Anna shouted and the camera pans around to find her on her knees beside the collapsed contraption. The doll was wedged in an elbow so she could use both hands and she was frustratingly pulling and squeezing and twisting every inch of the pram trying desperately to unlock and open it. 

“They do open Anna. They just have a little… knack to them.” Danny winked at the camera before it panned out to show both women struggling to open their prams while simultaneously crowning with their unborn babies. 

“Jesus, who the fuck designed this thing?!” Niamh cursed as she pulled the handle expecting it to expand but grunted with frustration when it didn’t. The Irish mum-to-be had stuffed the toy doll down her top after dressing it, wedging it under her shirt between her breasts and belly in order to use both hands on the final part of this challenge. 

“Ohhhhh god… this baby wants o-ouuttt….” Anna rocked on hands and knees, momentarily abandoning her pram and putting all her efforts into not giving birth. 

Niamh wasn’t looking much better, grunting and occasionally placing her hands between her thighs when her body automatically pushed. 

“This is going to be a close one ladies and gentlemen. Looks like both Anna and Niamh are pushing and it’s going to be a battle of willpower to see who makes it through this challenge.” 

“Mmngghhh….. no— don’t come out—!” Anna grunted, pulling the waistband of her leggings up and making the fabric taut and unforgiving at the crotch, creating a barrier against the emerging head. 

“Oh! Oh! I’ve got it!!” Niamh cried, finding the switch that when pressed allowed the pram to fully expand. “Anna… it’s on the left, by the l-logo…” Niamh panted as she pulled the fake baby out from under her top and almost threw it into the seat, quickly buckling the baby into the straps and clamping her hands between her thighs once more before the next contraction could strike. 

Anna scrambled on her knees, searching for the latch Niamh had mentioned. The pressure between her hips was building, the baby certainly at a full crown in her underwear. “Ohhhh god…. I need to push….” Rocking on her knees Anna flailed her hands over the pram and with a cry of relief found the button and the pram popped open. Placing her fake baby in the seat and buckling it in, tears fell from Anna’s eyes as she trembled against the raging waves of her labour. 

“Wow! Excellent work ladies; you have both completed the fourth challenge.” Danny announced, genuinely impressed that both contestants were still in the game. “Let’s take a quick break and we will be back with the fifth and final challenge. Who will keep that crown, and who will fall at the last hurdle? See you in five!” 

~•~

“Welcome back to the final part of Keep That Crown, the only game show that’ll have you pushing babies instead of buttons. As you may have guessed, we are getting in the Christmas spirit for the fifth and final challenge.” Danny wiggles his head slightly and the camera pans out to reveal a red and white Santa hat on top of his perfectly styled hair. “We decided to change things up as the holiday season approaches and we have a festive final challenge for you this week. Don’t worry folks, it is a relatively simple task, but… doing it whilst deep in the throes of labour?…” The wide and wicked grin from the TV presenter shines bright across the studio right into the television screens to all the people at home. “This may be our toughest challenge to date.”

As Danny continued talking to the camera the distinctive sounds of groaning and heavy breathing in the background grew louder. Danny walks across the studio, followed by the camera, and stands beside the two remaining contestants who were both now dressed up as Mrs Santa Claus. In hourglass silhouettes, the red velvet cinched at the waist but stretched tight across their pregnant bellies, the hem finished with luscious white fur. The dresses were short, barely covering their hips, allowing a clear view of the tight leggings underneath. Niamh’s hands were still clamped between her thighs as she sweated profusely, panting erratically. While Anna was groaning, her hands splayed wide across the velvet surface of her belly as if she could just hold the baby inside. 

“Ladies, I see you’re both dressed for the season.” Danny said cheerfully but his enthusiasm was not reciprocated. Anna’s face was blotchy and flushed as she held back her urges, sweat rolling down the side of her cheeks. Whereas Niamh looked fiery and frustrated, her knees dipping every few seconds, hands clamped firm at her crotch as she gritted “Get-on-with-it-!” 

Danny put his hands up in mock-surrender “Okay, okay. Let’s get on with the final task…. The Christmas Tree challenge!” In a corner of the studio there were two large Christmas trees, over 10ft in height, and both were completely bare. Beside each tree was a box filled with all manner of decorations from lights and tinsel, to beads and baubles. “Niamh, Anna, your challenge is simple; to decorate the Christmas tree. Your Christmas trees must be completely decorated, from the lowest branches all the way to the highest. Your tree must have at least 3 different types of decorations and it must have the star on the very top.” 

Two assistants on the show briefly came into shot, each placing a step ladder beside the trees and promptly running off stage. The ladders were clearly for the women to use in order to get to the very top of the Christmas tree. Anna visibly gulped with fear, while Niamh was staring at the floor very obviously pushing against her hand. 

“I would usually speak with each of you before the challenge, but erm, I’m guessing neither of you are up for chit chat..?” Danny asked with a laugh and got a grunting response from the Irish mother-to-be. “Okay then. Let’s dive into the challenge. On your marks, get set, GO!” 

Immediately Niamh waddled bow-legged and determined towards her tree, carefully removing one hand from between her legs and grabbing the set of Christmas lights from her box. Staggering side to side around the large tree, the labouring woman tossed sections of the lights with reckless abandon onto the different branches of the pine tree. Round and around she went adding the white lights up the tree but when she reached shoulder height she looked nervously up at the top of the tree, knowing what had to be done next. Niamh stood at the bottom of the step-ladder, gripping it tight with one fist while the other remained firm between her legs. She paused, waiting for the miniscule gap between contractions, before taking a hesitant step up the ladder. 

Meanwhile Anna seemed to be struggling to put one foot in front of the other, her head was dipped low as she held her large bump and breathed heavily. She tried to move but a squeaking whimper came out instead. 

“Come on Anna, you’re so close, don’t give up now.” Danny tried to encourage. 

“Oooohhh… I can’t— move—” Anna said with a fearful whine. 

Danny watched her struggle for a few seconds before taking pity on the girl and wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. “Come on, love. Let’s get you to your tree.” Angry voices came through the presenter’s earpiece as he then yelled to someone off screen “I’m just helping her get to the challenge, that’s all!” 

When they reached her designated challenge area, Anna gripped onto the step ladder, her wide legs trembling with the effort of not giving birth. “I can’t help you anymore sweetheart, but you’re so close. You can do this.” Danny encouraged quietly. Anna nodded, breathing deeply, preparing herself for the final hurdle. Then she abruptly let go of the ladder and dived into the decorations box grabbing as much as she could carry and unceremoniously whacking the decorations along the bottom branches of the tree. 

The Irish mother-to-be was now halfway up the step ladder trying to throw the Christmas lights around the top few branches of the tree. With a final effort she rose up onto her tiptoes and leant forward, lassoing the lights over the very top. The movement came with a price as a split second later the microphone caught her sharp gasp and the camera showed a clear bulge protruding between her thighs, her hand quickly moved to clamp hard against her crotch. 

“Niamh….” Danny’s words were jokingly stern as he stood beneath her ladder. “Was that a head poking through?” 

“No! Nnnghh— of course not. Still-ohhhh-very much c-crowning Danny!” She gritted loudly with a slight hiss through her teeth. 

“Good girl, remember to Keep That Crown!” Danny said, getting the audience to join in, everyone soon chanting the show’s iconic catchphrase. 

Over by the other tree, Anna had thrown all manner of decorations onto the bottom half of the pine tree. There was no style or strategy, the labouring woman frantically grabbing and hooking any decoration she could find onto the spindly branches. Sweat was dripping down her face and she took a breather at the decoration table, wiping her brow with the thick soft velvet of the sleeve of her festive costume. Anna lowered a hand between her legs, her eyes pinching hesitantly as she felt the crown of her baby’s head just inside her clothing. 

“Stay there little guy.” She whispered, exhausted but determined. 

“Anna, how are you getting on, sweetheart?” Danny asked, out of shot of the camera but carefully watching and narrating the scene to the audience at home.  

“I’m— ohhhhhh— hanging in there. And…I’ve got an idea…” Anna said aloud, then surprisingly picked up the whole plastic box of decorations and carried it over and up the step ladder. 

Gasps could be heard from the studio audience, impressed at her stamina and strength. Niamh looked up, worried at the reaction from the audience, and tried to look over at her competitor but couldn’t see past the thick branches of the tree. 

Higher and higher Anna climbed, the box wedged into the curve of her waist beneath her outstretched arm. Then, upon reaching the top of the ladder, she loudly dumped the decorations on the top step. The labouring woman proceeded to stand half-way up the ladder, picking up each item from the box and hanging it onto a branch. Her mis-mash of decorations meant she was already meeting the criteria of the task - to have at least three different types of decorations. Whereas her competitor Niamh, having chosen to add lights, meant she was having to go around the whole tree again to add the decorations. 

The tension in the studio could be cut with a knife, both women evenly matched in their birthing progress, but Anna was taking a surprisingly clear lead in completing the challenge. 

“It's neck-a-neck on this final challenge folks, but who will come out victorious? Can both Anna and Niamh hold off from giving birth just that little bit longer…. Or will they fall at the final hurdle?”  Danny riled up the studio audience who had started chanting support for their favourite contestant. 

Anna was getting higher up the step ladder, getting closer and closer to finishing the challenge. But Niamh was faltering. Badly. She was still on the ground, trying painfully slowly to add decorations to the bottom half of the tree. To the camera she was partially hidden behind the thick branches of the Christmas tree, the odd flash of red and white from her costume coming in and out of view. Her deep, rumbling groans and grunts could be heard over the speakers, because even though she was hidden, the microphone she wore captured everything… 

“nnnghhh—!! No! Don’t— gggrhhh—” the rough husky voice of the Irish mother-to-be echoed around the studio. 

The flash of red velvet behind the tree appeared to be sinking lower and lower, heading towards the ground. Danny, wide eyed, rushed over and beckoned the cameras to follow. 

“Oh…. Niamh….” Danny said as the camera showed everyone in the audience and at home the impending mother of twins. 

Down on her knees, Niamh braced her thighs with both hands, her whole body trembling. Her ass was raised up off her heels and the round shape of a baby’s head was forming under her leggings as she pushed. 

“Nnnnghhh—!!! It’s coming out—!!!!!” Niamh wailed, and then collapsed forwards onto her hands with a cry of relief when the head, very evidently, was born. 

“That’s it folks, our fan favourite is now out of the competition.” Danny said brightly to the camera, before adding “Niamh, you should be very proud. You did amazing. You’ve set the bar extremely high for any other twin pregnancies that’s for sure.” 

Niamh remained curled over on all fours, panting as she caught her breath, the medics rushing onto the studio floor to help her deliver her twins. The camera cuts back to Danny, who strolls between the Christmas trees talking to the audience. 

“So, that leaves us with one mother-to-be left in the competition. Anna,” he called up the ladder to the last woman standing “if you can finish this challenge, you’ve done it.” 

Anna was all the way up the ladder at this point, riffling through the box of decorations and throwing them haphazardly on the top few branches of the tree. The audience cheered and yelled, supporting and encouraging the last remaining contestant as she struggled through the final hurdle. She sagged against the ladder when the decorations were done, heaving deep breaths and gripping the ladder for dear life. When she started to descend the step ladder, Danny interrupted urgently. 

“No! Anna, you still need to add the star at the top!!”

Anna looked like she was about to cry, or scream at him. Her whole body was trembling with the effort of not giving birth, the constant low rumblings from her chest as she fought the back to back contractions. With quaking hands she rummaged through the box, trying to find the star as quickly as she could. Every now and then she’d grunt involuntarily, resulting in tense gasps from the audience, the camera zooming in on her closely. 

“Come on Anna, find that star! You can do it!” Danny yelled up the ladder. She held it proudly in the air when her hands found the glittery item and proceeded to step to the very top of the ladder. As she reached the top she fiercely threw the box of decorations to the floor to stand right on the highest step. 

The whole studio was silent, breaths collectively held as they watched the labouring woman atop the ladder, stretching,  reaching up and up and up, straining to get the star on the very top of the tree. 

A wild cheer erupted as the decoration was put into its rightful place and Danny announced loudly; “YOU DID IT! Anna, you did it!! You’ve won £100,000!” 

Anna didn’t even make it back to the ground before she was actively pushing and the head came out before her feet even touched the floor. 

image that was stuck in my head kinda

Too Many Babies, Too Much Movement

My belly is a dense mass of misshapen flesh distending from my lap, its roundness deformed with the bulges, valleys, and plains across its surface that are caused by baby bodies and heads pressing against it. It towers over me, my own fearsome fertility glaring down at me, the hideous pressure inside from seven, eight, maybe more, fetuses making me moan pitifully.

Then the babies move.

I can’t withhold a wail of agony as my massive abdomen begins to churn visibly on my lap, the sound one of horror as much as it is one of pain. My belly is churning, the flesh undulating in front of me, my mass of unborn children writhing in a pile inside me. My uterus bulges, feet and heads and hands distorting the already deformed surface of my flesh with their movements, the entire mass alive with eager internal activity.

I’m moaning constantly, a pitiful and helpless cry of despair and agony emanating from my throat like a siren. My entire body had been colonized by these babies, my breasts engorged for their milk, my hips widened for their birth, my poor belly blown up and out and destroyed for their gestation. I know that after they’re born I will never look the same, I will be forever transformed by the incredible pregnancy I’ve been made to endure.

The babies won’t stop. It feels like I’m going to pop. There are so many packed in there, the babies piled on top of each other, squirming and kicking against each other, that my belly is warping grotesquely as it leers down at me. My voice is a guttural groan, throaty and coarse as my mind reels at the thought of being ripped open. My skin burns, already stretched way beyond its limit and aching terribly as my children torture it further with their aggressive movements. Desperately, I reach up and grab whatever painful bulges jutting out from my mound that I can reach, trying to push the babies’ limbs and heads back inside me, my belly so large that I can’t reach the softball-sized protrusions at the top of my womb.

My belly jerks in my arms, the entire mass heaving from side to side as if trying to escape from my grasp. My breasts, painfully engorged and massively enlarged, are pressed up into my face and threaten to smother me. I feel wetness trailing down the impressive curves of my tits and the front downward slope of my belly, and I know it’s because the pressure has caused my nipples to gush milk from their enormous supply.

I want to give birth. I want to get them out. But I can’t. They’re not done growing. They need to be bigger.

It’s my fate to my taken over by babies. I am a slave to pregnancy.

One of my favorite things is early stage hyper-pregnancy.

Someone looks 4 months actually just tested positive. Someone looks 6 months is actually stuffed full of zygotes. Someone looks 9 months is actually having a litter. Overdue but actually on x-ray it's someone stuffed with normal 5 month fetuses.

Please be aware! If you are swelling unnaturally, or feel a mound under your navel, you may be affected! It's more than you think!

I think there was something wrong with that boba I got yesterday >.<

(This is my first time talking in a video pls be nice)

Video I've been trying to find for months

Luna Gets the Biggest

You're stuck in bed full-time now, and you're not even pregnant... yet. It's been a year since you gave birth to a record-shattering set of vigintuplets that caused you to be put on bed rest by your doctor only a month in and get up to 1300 lbs. just before you gave birth, completely immobilized by your staggering pregnancy, your pregnant stomach pressing so hard into the ceiling that you were worried you might break through it. You had thought that you'd get above half a ton when you got pregnant this time, but you smashed that barrier with a combination of twenty whole fetuses spurring you on to eat yourself into a massive boulder of matronly maternal flesh and having virtually no significant movement during your pregnancy, stuck in bed, pinned down by your heaving belly, a turtle stranded on her back. An enormously fat and pregnant turtle, for sure. 400 lbs. of baby and amniotic fluid came out of you that day, slightly under a third of your total body weight.

The damage had definitely been done to your body, though. Being 900 lbs. postpartum left you stranded in bed, unable to get up without assistance, probably for the rest of your life. You lost a significant chunk of that, though, "slimming" down, if you could even call it that at this point, to 800 lbs. simply because you could not maintain that weight. Though even your non-pregnancy appetite was the stuff of legend now and your metabolism had slowed down significantly from what it was before your first pregnancy, there was simply no way you could eat enough to keep yourself that heavy. It wasn't even a question of breastfeeding, that alone wouldn't've been able to put a dent in your poundage, you just simply could not eat enough to keep yourself that fat without a clutch of babies in your guts.

Since you now have forty children, your house had now become too small for your absurdly large family and you had to move to a much larger one, having the walls of your room broken down to get your fat ass out of your old one. It was much more comfortable for you, your husband, and your teeming flock to be in such a large house, your children having enough room to play both inside and out, including with you. You couldn't do much. You couldn't even get up on you own power to see them, but your kiddos went over to you and loved their how soft their big cuddly mama was, and most importantly, they loved you. Of course, your new bedroom was much larger than what you were in at your old house, able to accommodate your mass as it was... and if you got bigger.

You and your husband weren't dumb, despite how overloaded your brain gets during pregnancy. You both knew that you were going to get pregnant again, and soon. Even though you're so fat you can't walk, your husband putting another ridiculous number of babies in your belly without incident would be inevitable, and you two chose your new house with this in mind. More room in your bedroom for you to grow and more bedrooms for your ever-increasing number of children. Your house was a mansion, which thankfully your husband was able to afford. How he was able to afford what only very few people on Earth would be able to buy was anyone's guess, but you decided to keep yourself ignorant of that fact in case it was something less than savory. You had more important things to think about, like getting your guts stuffed full of food, children, and dick. The one thing you missed about your old house was the creaky floorboards, but that wasn't really your concern then since you weren't able to walk anymore, anyway.

That did not keep you from thinking about how much of a dumb, bloated, fattened breeding sow you were and were going to become soon again, your entire existence dedicated to nothing but feasting, gestating, and fucking with absolutely nothing else on your mind during your pregnancies, a goddess of fertility in human form. A veritable human termite queen. That was when you were the happiest, and you were going to be that happy again. Both you and your husband were ready for you to grow even larger than even the behemoth you have become now. You're a greedy girl, your size alone made that obvious. You wanted some babies in your guts and you wanted them NOW!

Your husband, solely devoted to you, your children, and creating more of them, was rearing to get at you just as much as you were at him, even though you were a complete whale at this point. He had to do all the work, making you quiver underneath him. He got his jollies out of this, too, your soft body a waterbed of flesh bouncing around with each of his thrusts, you two waiting for his seed to turn your belly hard once again as it swelled with a new brood. Both of you were screaming in ecstasy. though thankfully (or perhaps it was something you missed) your moans and yelps during the throes of passion didn't cause as much of a commotion like they used to, with both your room and your house so big that those screams woke neither your children nor your neighbors, of which you had so much land attached to your house that you basically had no neighbors who'd be able to hear the freight train of fucking going on and make noise complaints like last time (something I forgot to mention).

"Get me pregnant, get me fucking pregnant!" you shouted, thinking of nothing else but your husband and the absolutely gargantuan cow he was going to turn you into with this new batch of children you were so eager for him to put inside you. "Make me massive! Get me all the way to a ton! Make me break down the walls of this room! I'm nothing but a baby factory designed to swell with children, and it's all for you!" the latter an uncharacteristically unselfish statement of you to make while in the middle of the horizontal mambo. You were greedy, and you liked being greedy. Your burning desire to swell enormous with child was driving you to this, but you did it for your husband, too. "Fill me with your seed and your children! FILL ME UP! FILL ME UP!!!" you screamed, about to know pleasure like you had never experienced before. The two of you, like all those other times before, did this for at least a week, keeping yourselves quite busy, waiting for the inevitable outcome.

And that moment was realized. A month after those marathon sessions with your husband, you found out you were pregnant again, because of course you were. You simply could not keep yourself from getting pregnant and turning into an enormous breeding sow. The cravings your new brood gave you had you eat yourself up to 900 lbs. again, your voracious maternity-induced appetite showing itself on your body once more. Your doctor, who had to keep himself from screaming at you for getting pregnant again, just wanted to make sure you were healthy at this point. And of course, the moment of truth you and your husband were waiting for had come. Waiting for the announcement of just how pregnant you were going to be and how massive you were going to get drove you insane, your mind pregnant (heh) with anticipation. Your doctor struggled to get a clear reading on the ultrasound through all of the fat on your stomach, but he got it. Forty embryos had been detected. You were having quadragintuplets. That thought sent you into orbit, having a set of consecutive orgasms on cue, your eyes rolling deep back into your head. You screamed at your husband that you'd get past a ton during the first of those steamy fucks that got you in this state, but now you think you were going to surpass even that. Thank God you got that new house, eh?

At the end of the first trimester, you were the size you were when you gave birth the last time, growing exponentially with each pregnancy. You were 1300 lbs., your belly more than three times the size of your body with forty fetuses inside of it, spurring you on to grow fatter and heavier with each orgy of food your husband helped you push past your lips. Your mind was truly mush at this point, both pregnancy brain and arousal driving you mad and unable to think about anything else other than getting food in your stomach, growing your babies, and lying back with your husband inside you making you scream wildly every few hours. The two of you simply could not be stopped from going at each other, or really your husband since you were powerless to stop him, but holy Hell, did you not want to stop him.

"God, I'm getting massive for you!" you screamed during one of the steamier fucks you had then. "I do nothing but have my face, womb, and pussy stuffed! I'm gorging myself all day long and getting fatter & heavier with your babies! They're making me so hungry I just can't stop! MMMM!!!"

"Are you going to get to a ton and burst the walls of your room like you said you were?" your husband replied, wanting to drive you as mad with lust as possible.

"YES! YES! I'M GOING TO BLOW UP AND MAKE THIS ROOM EXPLODE! KEEP FEEDING ME! KEEP STUFFING ME! KEEP FATTENING ME! KEEP ME PREGNANT! KEEP DOING THIS TO ME OVER AND OVER! MY BELLY WILL NEVER BE EMPTY AGAIN! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The two of you made a serious mess of your bed, coming down from a high that was simply indescribable. You HAD to keep doing this. You just had to.

The end of the second trimester was even better. Your stomach was now twenty feet above your head, and you still didn't come anywhere close to filling the confines of your room, making sure to make that room as large as possible to accommodate your ludicrous pregnancies. This was not normal, but you were used to things not being normal ever since you first got knocked up with decuplets and ate yourself into an elephantine food balloon. You were truly a hippo. A heifer. Fattened up at the irresistible insistence of that legion of babies kicking at you to keep on gorging. Your husband made good on his promise, keeping you filled up both with comestibles and himself. You obviously couldn't reach around to pleasure yourself anymore. You had that happen before when you got so heavily pregnant you couldn't reach around your stomach, but that became permanent since your got pregnant the third time, with you already so fat and so pregnant that that would never become a possibility for you again. You were burning with a need that only your husband could fulfill because you couldn't do so yourself, and boy did he do his best to satisfy you. Even you two were shocked at how you were able to go at it so many times in one day, let alone at all. Your husband practically never left your side except to order all of your chefs around or bring the children of yours not currently gestating within to you when you wanted to see them or they wanted to see you, marveling at the mountain of a woman your husband had turned you into, knowing that there would be twice as many of them as there are now. Your pleasure was completely at the mercy of your husband, something that actually got you turned on more than you thought it would. You needed him, and he needed you.

Time went both slow and fast for you. Slow enough for you to savor being trapped underneath a boulder of a belly and an avalanche of fat, but it was still too fast for you, knowing that it would all be over in just a few months. You wanted to be this pregnant forever, not wanting to shrink back down ever again. You just wanted to keep a gaggle of children inside of you forever, growing ever larger for all eternity, but you knew that wasn't possible. That thought kept you going during the rare instances when your husband wasn't waiting on you sexually, which you needed constantly. It's a nice fantasy, but it couldn't be made into reality. Or could it?

That thought would have to be set aside for now, though. You had finally arrived at your due date, and just like the last three times, nary a contraction had graced your uterus. Your stomach, hard as a rock even with all that fat on it, surged thirty feet above your head. You were truly nothing but a machine designed for glutting on fattening food and making babies. A complete lack of self control when it came to food and sex got you here, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it, nor did you want to. You were in horny delirium at all waking hours, your babies growing fat in your womb making you wonder how much more food you could stuff into yourself, the hormones they controlled making you salivate at the thought of wiping an all-you-can-eat buffet bare, a one-woman swarm of locusts. And this was all your husband's doing, your mind being manipulated to this extent to crave both food and sex at all hours of the day, and all because he stuck his dick inside you & fertilized you with his seed. Forget about a human termite queen, you were way past that at this point. Your gargantuan body filled with babies took up almost a third of your room now, but still you wanted to get even larger, consequences be damned! A ton came and went. You were more than 2,000 lbs. of breeding sow filled with babies making your bed groan under your weight whenever you moved slightly or even whenever one of your children kicked inside of you. The loss of not hearing the floorboards creek underneath your girth whenever you waddled around more pregnant than ever was more than made up for by this. And it was only going to get better.

The time for your customary induction two weeks after your due date had arrived, and you were somehow even more massive than before. You grew more quickly in that time than you ever had before, your belly rounding out to a total of thirty-three feet thrusting above your head and gorging yourself up to a long ton. You were physically ready to give birth, but not mentally. Not that you weren't mentally prepared for the struggle of giving birth, that wasn't it. Unlike the last three times, you weren't mentally prepared to stop being pregnant. You didn't want to know of anything else but pregnancy, constantly growing until the end of time. You had to figure out how to make that happen, Lord knows you've already accomplished the impossible with a quadragintuplet pregnancy and reaching a weight never once held by a human being before. But right now, your body had to get those kids out of you, and you brought forty new wonderful lives into the world.

Lying there, exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth and just there no being not exhausted from being so fat, you were already thinking about how you were going to get knocked up again, and this time permanently.

Fin

I have reached my ultimate form as a 1 ton baby factory🥵🥵🥵

Too big to move

Not AI, 100% Real

Episode 10 - Twins

What if: space birth

Astronaut doesn’t realize she’s pregnant and has to give birth on the ISS. No gravity at all, no position to make it easier, hundreds of miles away from any help. Maybe she even tries to hide it so she won’t be demoted. Maybe it’s not even possible for her to give birth on her own in zero gravity and the other astronauts have to find increasingly more extreme or even nonsensical ways to help her. Maybe the baby is in a weird position since there is no up or down in space. Maybe she’s not even pregnant with a human baby, maybe I changed my mind and it’s a sci-fi setting now and she’s giving birth to some kind of alien, or aliens, and once aliens are involved, the sky’s the limit!

Space birth.