Have Been On A Fantasy Kick And Thinking Of Scenarios In My Head All The Time, And Here's One Just For

Waiting for the baby to start crowning.

.REPOST.

A lot of people liked my rapid preg post the other day, so here’s something else in the same vein

I really love a pregnancy that starts off normal, maybe even until the 2nd or 3rd trimester, but then an external force brings the pregnancy to term in a matter of minutes. A pregnant woman going about her day, when suddenly her belly starts getting bigger and heavier…but that can’t be, right? Soon her water breaks, and she’s in labor…but she can’t be, she’s not due for another 6 weeks…?!

Video idea: tummy alien xD

Yknow... i had this weird dream where i got these lil alien suckers on my mouth. Got pumped full of eggies... glad it was just a dream!...it was a dream right...?

431.3 There’s an alien invasion and they capture some people w uteruses to impregnate them with their species. Problem is their species head is way larger than the human birth canal. Between that and the thick body with extra arms, all of the experiments have ended in long agonizing labors, and death so far. The aliens keep tweaking the genetics but so far to no avail. Your water just broke. Were they able to make the baby (or babies) small enough to fit after another long agonizing labor? Or are you just another casualty. Do you know about the fates of the others going into this? 

———

Number 731 was ever so slightly smaller than her cell mate, 730 and slightly bigger than 732 next door. Mind you, she was fairly certain they each carried twins. Either that or they each carried one large baby. Their captors refused to give them any information of their condition. Either way they all knew they were pregnant.

When 730 went into labor, 731 was able to hear her agonizes screams for days. She counted the days.. one.. two.. three.. the screams got quieter and less frequent.. four.. five.. on the sixth day there was nothing. Her cell mate wasn’t coming back. Neither was the baby. (Babies? She didn’t know.)

Three more days pass, and during this time 731 paced her cell. She had a hand on her back, worrying about what was going to come of her. If 730 didn’t come back.. did any of the others? Had seven hundred and thirty people really come to the same fate? Was she next? A cramp in her abdomen seemed to confirm her question.

The cramps came and went, despite her pacing, or attempts to get comfortable, but she did not cry out. Not yet. She kept her mouth shut until it was time for lights out. In the night there was nothing to muffle her groans of pain. The guard on duty quickly called for the medical team to extract her.

She was carried to the hospital wing and strapped to a bed with her legs spread. Her arms tied down to her sides. The pain in her back amplified greatly. It’s like these beings didn’t realize that laying flat on your back narrows the birth canal.. before they picked her up, she’s dilated to maybe a 6, but since being strapped down her progress stalled. The contractions did less for her.

She groaned through out the night as the aliens constantly roughly checked her with their thick fingers.. by the morning she had barely hit 7cm. They gave her medicine to up the intensity of the contractions but still she stalled. She writhed in pain, now screaming loud enough to scare 732 all the way back at her cell. She tried to hold her stomach, or to move or anything but she could only lay there suffering. Screaming.

Still it was another day and a half before she felt the urge to push. She was exhausted, starving, and still barely able to move. She begged the doctors to let her get out of her bed, let her walk around, let her squat for god sakes!

She pushed the best she could for being laid out. It was hours before she finally felt the baby bulge behind her lips.

The aliens got excited, perhaps 731 is going to be the one?? They watched eatery as the bulge pushed forward creating a sliver, and groaned when the baby slipped backward. A few of them even seemed to place bets, most of them betting against 731 though. It’s the safest bet.

She pushed, she strained, and she screamed. Her face turned red with bursted blood vessels. The baby barely made the sliver stay open. 731 had never felt so full in her life. Never felt so ready to split apart at the seems. Each push began to get weaker, her screams had long since faded. The baby stopped kicking it’s appendages.

The aliens took notes, and scribbled away. It’s the farthest anybody had gotten their baby yet, but the baby had yet to even come to a full crown by the time the monitors confirmed the truth, after 5 days of labor, 731 was just another statistic.

Screams from down the hall perked the aliens attention though.. maybe 732 would have a better chance?

Its still not enough...

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

pretty girl forced to sit down while she's crowning and told to not complain about how much it hurts when the baby's forced back in <3

So Painful