That First Moment Of Movement When You’re Carrying Something Unknown. Something Unnatural. The Fear

Kind of random but I am a huge fan of alien impregnation and I have really been thinking about making the pregnancy role play alien related.

For example, maybe the pregnancy is the result of a random hookup at a club. It should be impossible due to me being on birth control but I end up pregnant. I eventually decide to go through with the pregnancy but as it progresses, I start to feel that this pregnancy is not as normal as I once thought.

Getting out of a chair got harder and harder as his pregnancy progressed. He was beginning to think that he was too old for this game

impending birth reflecting feelings of impending doom. feeling your belly drop, the baby getting lower, hips aching...being so, so scared of what has to happen. wanting it out--it's so heavy--but also praying that it stays in, for just one more day. putting yourself on bedrest, trying to delay the inevitable, when you feel that first practice contraction. knowing that the longer you wait, the bigger it gets, but trying to put it off anyway.

rapid preg thats JUUUUUST slow enough that you dont realize for a WHILE. especially if theres no button on your pants or shirt to pop off. you look down after being in the pool for a while, and suddenly realize you look about 6 months pregnant, and your swim suit is NOT hiding it. or thinking your sweatshirt is hiding it just fine on the plane so you take a nap and when you wake up somethings moving around quite a bit inside your obviously pregnant belly.

If you suddenly find yourself swelling, your midsection unyielding - especially if you feel fluttering or movement under your hands - regardless of your gender, please message me!

Have Me Swollen

Been inspired lately to be so pregnant and heavy that i am but a slow, sweating, panting beast

The airplane shakes as we descend onto the air strip. One of your hands is gripping the armrest and the other digging into my hands in a death grip. Your head was leant back into the chair, your chest rising and falling every second and your stomach constantly looked hard as a rock.

The plane bounces and rumbles when rubber meets road. The plane shakes as it rolls over the strip and slows to a stop. The rough landing making you yelp and hiss.

The plane ride is over. Now we just need to get off of it.

I wait for the other passengers to gather their things before I move to get a hold of a steward.

"Can I please get a wheelchair, my wife is feeling nauseous; I don't want her walking," I ask the stewards as the plane clears out of the rest of the guests.

They leave me to take care of you. I lift you up, but you resist and maintain your grip on the armrest.

"No more moving- it hurts. Burning, so much burning," you struggled to keep a whisper.

I pick you up anyway. Your legs quiver, your face twists as the full weight of our baby sits on your fully stretched opening. The seam of your jeans is soaked through and bowed out into the shape of the head. It's not moving through your jeans, but your composure won't last. Your breathe sharply as I sit you in the chair.

"Oooh, God, I need them out," you whimper.

"Soon, babe, soon."

I drape our carry-on bags on my shoulders and push you through the aisle and the terminal. The hospital isn't far from the airport, maybe an extra thirty or forty minutes is doable as long as we keep your shorts on.

The end of the gate reaches my view and I smile earnestly for the first time in hours.

"We're off the plane babe! Now we just-"

As soon as we exit the terminal, your voice rises to a scream you'd been holding back for hours.

"Get these pants off of me! I need to push!"

Part I Part II Part III

The wait for the entire plane to disembark was nothing short of torturous, hundreds of people packing their stuff and filing slowly out of one door. The guy in our row gave us a stern and annoyed glare as he strutted down the aisle.

I was grateful you’d gotten a wheelchair - there was no way in hell I’d have been able to walk anywhere with a baby stuck crowning between my legs. But as I sat in the well-worn leather of the wheelchair as you pushed me off the plane and out the gate, I felt just as trapped as I’d done in the aeroplane seat. My legs were as wide as I could get them in the wheelchair, my feet trembling on the foot rests, my arms gripping the handles either side. My body tried to push again and again and felt the resistance of my clothing, keeping any progress from being made. While the plane was landing that was a good thing but now, back on solid ground, I couldn’t take it any more.

As the last to leave the plane the long corridors were empty as you wheeled me towards arrivals. The baby was stretching me, the burning ring of fire consuming every part of my being, and alone in the corridor I released the hours of agony in the form of a guttural wail.

“Stop!!! Get-me-out-get-me-out!!!” I cried as my feet tried to find the floor.

The second you halted the wheels I shifted towards the end of the seat and almost threw myself out the chair and onto all fours in the middle of the corridor. I groaned and mooed, deep and primal, and then growled “Shorts-off-now!!!!! Need-to-pushhhh mnghhhhh can’t-hold-it-baby-coming!”

I tried to claw at my denim shorts but I needed both hands on the floor to balance. I heard you swear under your breath before kneeling beside me and trying to pull the maternity shorts across my large bump and over my hips.

“Lean on me babe, I need you more upright if I’m gonna pull these down.” You instructed.

I pushed myself up on to my knees and gripped each of your shoulders in a vice-like squeeze. I couldn’t speak, barely able to breathe, the only thought was the primal instinct to birth this baby. Right here. Right now.

I wailed again in your ear as the shorts slipped past my thighs and I immediately started pushing. Clinging on to you for dear life, I roared and grunted the baby’s bulging head further and further out. Your hands between my trembling thighs ready to catch our baby.

Anyone take commissions for fetish stories?

I know it's hard out here to charge for fetish work with AI, but I'm looking for a fetish writer to write a hyper-pregnancy story. Will pay. Contact me.