A Pregnant Person Who Is So Hyper-fertile That Thejr Eggs Can Be Fertilized At Any Place In Their Womb,

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.

I- ughhh- I can’t move- I can’t stop swelling 😩😩😩

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.

imagine you're in a breeding program and your only job is to get pregnant and give birth. you've been here nearly ten months and you're due soon but the client gets tired of waiting and just straps you down onto the bed. you cry and sob uselessly as they shove a camera probe into your pussy because they don't believe in ultrasounds. you beg them to stop but they thrust against your cervix over and over battering it black and blue trying to ram the probe into your womb with force alone. Finally they drive the probe up your birth canal and plunge it into the depths of your womb. as soon as they see the baby, they yank the probe out of you even as it catches on your cervix once more threatening to turn your womb out. They take a long thick needle and shove that up your cunt too and you can't help but clench your pussy around the doctors wrist. The needle tears your baby's amniotic sac open and sends fluid gushing out of you like a fountain. Your wailing falls on deaf ears. the doctor wrenches their hand out of your greedy cunt and pats the base of your belly. they tell you your cunt will be full soon. they mean full and heavy with the baby that gets stuck while you try birth it, the baby resting in safety sheathed in your bulging pussy while the doctors try to yank it out of your unwilling cunt. Because the doctors don't bother to wait for your labour to begin. they don't care. all you are is a broodmare, your body's preparation is immaterial. Once again you are having something shoved into your cunt. you try to resist but your thrashing is pointless, you are so thoroughly restrained, you can just barely breathe, only your arms are free to stroke and clutch at your belly. your full belly that once domed upwards has shrunk slightly after ejecting the cushioning fluid from your womb. the dinner plate they shoved up your cunt now sits between your hips cupping your bowed out cervix. the support would be welcome if it didn't mean having something lodged in your pelvis. Then the dinner plate whirs to life and you are screaming at the top of your lungs clutching your pregnant belly as the dinner plate reveals itself to be a suction plate ready to wrench your babies right out of your womb and yank them from the safety of your cunt kicking and screaming. and oh there is so much kicking and screaming. you aren't allowed the luxury of having your babies slip through your cervix or slide through your canal to be welcomed into the world, no, they are sucked and pulled out of you using an industry grade vacuum. because you're not a mother, no, you're a birthing machine, you are here to give birth over and over and over again until you can't anymore.

kofi

You can't be pushing now. I lean forward and maneuver my hand so I can get my fingers into your pussy. You squirm as my fingers go through your swollen, then a small whimper when my two fingers reach my cervix. You're 10 centimeters. I hide my fear as best I can. If you pushed, this baby was going to shoot through you fast. My mind races, searching for any solution that the OB handbooks and websites listed. Most of them involved drugs that we obviously didn't have. Dehydration and sitting so baby was being pulled down probably weren't helping you, but it wouldn't matter if you thought you could and should push. Make up my mind right there. You don't want our baby on a plane and I'd make it so you didn't as best as I could.

"Resist pushing."

"I don't think I can anym-"

"Don't push you're only 7 centimeters dilated. You can make it, ok," I snap and grasp your hand. "Trust me."

You look at me for a moment then nod. Your eyes were watery, red. It hurts to lie to you like this.

"My love, if you can, I need you to shift on your side. It should slow contractions, for a bit maybe."

We just have to hope the stewards don't notice. You shift slightly, you can't fit your bump between the arm rests but I hope the shift in position is enough. I give you my water and dab the sweat from your brow.

~~~

The changed position didn't last long. The stewards reprimanded us for being in unsafe positioning and had you back in your seat proper after two hours. I have no idea if it helped but last time I checked you the head had only moved a bit in your canal. Your breathing was low, deep, and hastening as you resisted the urge to push. Your face squenches hard, but you maintain the facade of the uncomfortable pregnant lady to the stewards when they pass.

I keep lying about how slow your dialation is with the hope it would help with your resistance. We're so close now. So close...

[Part I]

It was our first baby, my first pregnancy, I didn’t know what to expect… but oh god the pressure. I didn’t expect so much pressure. I did my best to breath through the contractions, which felt constant at this stage, barely any time between them.

I was panting through my nose and groaning behind my closed mouth. My legs were wide apart in the narrow chair, my bump sat heavily between my thighs and brushed against the damp cushion. As I held my contracting dome with both hands, I ignored the overwhelming desire to push. You said I was only 7.5cms dilated, you told me I wasn’t ready to push, and I put all my faith and trust in you, unable to think of anything besides my breathing. And holding off from pushing.

Even though I was not dilated enough, the baby felt like it was one push away from coming out. It felt like the head was right there, bulging my lips, but it couldn’t be. I wasn’t dilated enough for that. Breathe. Don’t push. Breath. Don’t push.

My head lolled onto your shoulder, my body exhausted and trembling. You wrapped your arms over my bump before one hand disappeared beneath my shorts.

“Ohhhhh babe I really need to p-pushhhh….” I whimpered as you examined me again.

“Not yet, you’re not dilated enough.” You assured and kissed the side of my sweaty face.

“A-are you s-sure?” I panted quietly. “It feels like it’s coming outttttt…..mnghhhhh!” Suddenly I’m pushing.

“No! Stop pushing!” You cried and put your hand between my legs again.

“I can’t help it- oh fuck nghhhhhh!”

“Ok if you need to push, just small pushes. Quietly.” You say and I can feel the counter pressure you're making at my opening. But I don’t question it, consumed by the green light you gave me to push.

My chin is on my chest, my arms are grabbing the arm rests, and I bear down silently spreading my legs wider.

“Oh it’s coming out…” I gasp.

“No it’s not.” You say confidently, before adding under your breath “I won’t let it.”

Get It Out

(Contains: major discomfort, overdue, big baby, supportive but horny husband)

I'm in my final days of growing the life you put in me 43 weeks ago. By now, there was no such thing as comfort. Everything hurt. My hips, my belly, my back, all of it. Each day I'm praying to god for consistent labor pains to take hold but they always taper off into nothing, and I'd cry every time I felt the contractions slipping away. The thought of being pregnant for one more day was pure torture. I couldn't take the constant pain and the pressure...

Oh the pressure. It drove me insane every day. The babe and my waters so deep that everything felt like it was in my ass, like I was a clogged pipe ready to burst from the pressure of the water flowing behind the big obstruction.

And I was so beyond pregnant that going out in public wasn't an option anymore what with the stares and whispers from strangers that you hated because you knew how self conscious I was about the size of my belly. Last time we went out was a week ago and I felt like an exotic animal on display. Many asked when our twins were due and their eyes went wide when we told them it was a single baby. You batted away weirdos who asked to feel my bulging stomach and caught one taking a video of me with his phone. You screamed and scared him into deleting the video before smashing his phone on the ground.

By now, I'm certain that if we went outside people would call an ambulance without even asking if I was in labor. On our last outing, we were asked multiple times if we needed a ride to the hospital, which I declined with growing annoyance each time. I just couldn't do it anymore. And even if I wanted to, the pelvic pain was too much for me to walk more than fifteen feet.

In fact, there were many things that your cumbersome load made severely uncomfortable. I couldn't sit, couldn't stand, couldn't lay down, couldn't do anything with the head of your fat baby nested deep down on my screaming cervix. It was so low, I'd reach down every now and again expecting to feel the bulge of the head as it sat there and felt nothing but my sensitive pussy. One time, I asked for your help to get out the tub and gasped shakily as I felt the head fall with gravity and the pressure went from 0 to 10 as the water was no longer keeping the full weight of the child off my hips. I screamed that it was coming out and when you reached down in panic, you didn't feel anything at all even though I felt like the head was close to dangling between my legs.

My waters were the verge of bursting. The leakage started a week ago. What was once tiny droplets here and there evolved into small trickles that filled pads and wet my pants. Your cock would weep at the sight of those dark blotches on the sweatpants I'd stolen from you, as mine were now too small and uncomfortable to wear. I had a towel with me and set it down wherever I decided to settle in order to soak up any fluid that spilled from my opening. My sack was fighting –and losing– tooth and nail to hold together.

You wanted to see just how big I could get knowing this is the largest I'll ever be with a single babe, so sex was limited to me jerking and sucking you off so I wouldn't pop on your huge dick. I'd reached a rare stage of post-term pregnancy, and you devoured every second of it. Seeing the way you burdened me to the point of constant pain and discomfort turned you on. You'd develop a tent in your pants every time I'd cry and shout when lightning bolts of pain shot from my weakening cervix through the rest of my belly. Sometimes it would be followed by a contraction that made the mound go square. They were the worst and increased in frequency day after day. I'd stop whatever I was doing, clutch my belly, and breathe deep. There were times when the pain would peak and it was so intense that I couldn't help but grunt and holler. If anyone else heard me they'd probably think I was laboring hard. You'd jerk yourself off while I waited for the pain to pass with wet, exhausted eyes begging you to DO something.

Today, you could tell it was time. While I wasn't in full blown labor, I was past my limit and far too pregnant to move at all. It felt as if my pelvis would snap in half if I did. The head was so low and pressing so hard on my cervix that I'd feel a spontaneous urge to push with the Braxton Hicks that took hold. I knew I shouldn't push outside of labor but it felt so good when I did. Too good. Those tiny pushes were the only source of relief I could currently find, as you rubbing my back and belly did nothing to ease the pains now.

I'd only slept for a few hours in the past three days and couldn't keep anything down besides water and juice. Any food I ate came back up when a contraction hit. I looked like a zombie and you knew I needed to drop soon or I wouldn't have the strength to push the baby out. Letting me go any further felt cruel even though you were confident that I'd have the baby on my own if not tonight then definitely in the morning. Then again, you thought the same every day since I hit 41 weeks. Every day you'd see my plight and think 'this is it' but labor never came.

And here I was in our bed with a big absorbent mat under my ass that was slightly damp with the waters that were fit to gush out of me at any given moment. I sobbed hard as I had been struggling so bad with the baby since this morning. I only wore one of your giant t-shirts. My pussy was fully exposed as I pulled my leg up with a hand behind my knee.

This had to be the hardest you'd ever been. You made contact with my exhausted, pained eyes as I sobbed, unable to go any further. I didn't need to beg for you to know exactly what I was asking you to do but I did anyway.

"Get it out." My voice shook and cracked as you walked slowly to my side of the bed, taking in the sight of me, thinking about how this was the most beautiful you'd seen me since our wedding day.

"I need it out. Please." I cried as you dropped your pants and crawled over to me. Your cock was heavy and hot as you watched a small gush of fluid escape my opening. While it wasn't extremely obvious, you noticed the way my pussy bulged out around what you assumed was the head. Anybody else probably wouldn't notice, but you'd seen me enough times to know it looked a bit bigger than usual.

Yeah. It's time. You thought as you lined yourself up with my opening. I didn't want this. I was in enough pain without you rocking my body and slamming into my hips, but I needed it. I needed you inside me now more than ever before and you were beyond happy to help. And I needed to feel something other than the struggle your baby was putting me through. I was so lost in my own despair that I didn't realise you were on top of me until you began to kiss and suck my neck.

"Oh, baby boy," you whispered in that heavy southern drawl that made me weak in the knees and was part of the reason why I was so painfully knocked up, "You wanna give birth for me?"

A large, warm thumb pressed against my enlarged, swollen clit and rubbed in slow circles. I gasped loud as a shockwave of pleasure ran through my entire body while you continued to whisper in my ear between kisses. "You gonna push for me, papa?"

Your cock was now putting pressure against my opening and you could see how hungry I was for it. Even though I was positive I'd pop with clit stimulation alone, I craved the feeling of you filling my hole and stretching me with your girth. You chuckled as I tried to shift myself down but the baby was too fat and low for me to do much. You pushed inside my opening that was slick with birth fluids and my own arousal. To your surprise, I reached behind your neck and yanked you down for the most passionate kiss we'd had since the baby was made.

A contraction was what broke it. I threw my head back on my pillow and moaned as you breathed away the urge to pound me fast and hard as my pussy clenched tight around your thick cock. You started with slow thrusts and grunted with each one as you got a rhythm going. Your thumb pressed harder on my clit and I stared at you with more love and admiration than you'd ever seen before. You smiled and leaned in for one more kiss before sitting up again.

"Let's get that baby out."

"Don't cum." I told him, desperate to finish. I felt so stupid for letting him talk me into not using a condom. This was so dangerous, but I needed to peak before we stopped so badly. "I'm trying... It's hard to fight it..." He grunted, and I could feel through the way his dick was twitching and throbbing inside me he was telling the truth.

"I mean it, don't cum!" I panted, wrapping my legs around him. I was so close, just a bit more... "Gah, it hurts!" He grunted, his whole body trembling as he fought his body's most base, primal instinct.

"Don't you fucking dare cum inside me! I can't have your stupid baby right now!" I said, throwing my head back, my plea trailing off into an utterly satisfied cry of release. It felt so good, I barely even heard him go "Ngh! F-fuck, no! I can't! It's coming out! Babe it's coming out of me right now!!!"

Spurt. Spurt. I felt it slamming into my deepest point, and that only made it feel better. I was so scared, but it made me cum even harder, knowing he'd failed, feeling him dig his fingers into my hips and pull himself in me as hard as he could.

It would be fine, I tried to tell myself, laying there, his seed oozing out of my most vulnerable place. It would be just fine, I wouldn't have to have a baby from this. I couldn't handle being pregnant right now, I hoped my body wouldn't let it take...

)----------

"Don't push." I told her, watching her in the passenger's seat, still wearing her sweatpants and shirt. Her belly was so huge with our little accident, and I still felt so guilty for what I did. But she was amazing like this, so beautiful, so powerful, even if this baby had made her miserable. "I'm trying... It's... S-so hard to fight it... Have to actively... R-resist the urge..." She grunted, clutching her thighs, trying to hold her legs together even though she clearly needed release.

"I mean it, don't push!" I managed, struggling to keep my voice steady. I could see how close she was, how much her body was straining. "Ungh... It HURTS!" She moaned, her thighs parting involuntarily. Her whole body trembled as she fought her most base, primal instinct.

"You have to fight it! If you give in even a little, this baby will come right here in the car! You said you didn't want that!" I secretly hoped for it, had delayed us leaving maybe a bit more than was reasonable, until she was complaining about intense, overwhelming pressure in her hips, said she could almost feel how thin and open she was inside. Was saying she almost felt like she needed to use the bathroom. Then and only then did I find the last thing we needed and headed to the car. She threw her head back, a desperate cry of pain and release escaping her as she bellowed "NGH! F-fuck, NO! I CAN'T! It's coming out! BABE, YOUR STUPID BABY, IT'S COMING OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW!!!"

There was a spurt of fluid, and the crotch of her pants became absolutely soaked. She screamed with effort, and I watched her pants bulge... More... Until with a beautiful sound of fluids pouring from her, the entire baby slid into her pants and panties, one big, desperate push after fighting with everything she had for so long sending our accident launching into the world.

"It'll be fine..." I told her, rubbing her leg as she looked down at the muffled crying coming from her ruined sweats. "I know you had to drop out, and we're struggling a bit. But we'll figure this out. You'll recover, it won't be a big deal. I promise." She just shook her head, let out a water "can't believe you did this to me... Fuck..." As she tried to force herself to pick up our newborn oopsie...

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

IT WASN'T A DREAM ×_×

image that was stuck in my head kinda