Birthbitchii - Birth Bitch

Hmmmm signing up to help rare creatures breed but you're put in a pen with a wide variety and the contract doesn't end until you've birthed one of all of them at least, and they all get free reign on you, waddling around full of cum and bred over and over and no matter what you do, how many you produce, one of them just never seems to be able to give you a baby, and as you squat and moan as your immensely full body pushes out yet another griffin egg you see them lounging nearby, sure that scaled face is twisted in amusement, and wonder if they're even capable of breeding you at all or if you're here forever more...

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.

I don't know who is writing Severance fanfic but Mark should be the pregnant one okay there's my take sorry

It's been a whole year since you got pregnant, and you still have no idea when you're going to pop. At this point, you're afraid to. After all, your belly slaps against your knees while walking (not that you do much walking these days, but you have to circulate blood through your legs somehow). It's a monstrous thing, your womb. It's full and tight, stretched beyond reasonable limits... but you've long since departed the shores of reason. That day when the ultrasound revealed you were going to have three babies, it feels like a lifetime ago. But here you are, all four of you. Yup, even at your ludicrous size, there's still only three in there. You don't need a scan to tell you that; you know the shape and size of your babies like the back of your hand. Your three overdue, perfectly healthy, impossibly large babies.

It seems like I spend all of my time reclined in bed, rubbing the sides of my ever-moving, painfully overdue baby belly, stretched to the brink of bursting with my overfed and overgrown triplets. They have very little room to move, which seems to agitate them, making them kick and shove against each other, and most of all, the tight walls of my womb. I'm wearing a pair of stretchy sweatpants that used to be baggy, and now are squeezed tight around my hips and ass, digging into the plush flesh, so fattened by pregnancy. My tits are stretching my shirt, nipples leaking milk near constantly, both teats already producing enough to feed the huge babies I'm growing.

I finally decide to make myself try and get out of bed, and I realize that today is the day I'm too big to even move. I think labor must be coming soon, and while I'm terrified, I'm also desperate to get these giant, heavy babies out of my belly. I swear I can hear my skin creaking with every wriggle and kick, my big, red, popped belly button regularly sticking out further when one of the babies kicks behind it.

All I've done is eat and grow. After gorging myself on more food than I've eaten in my life, enough food to make me gain fifty pounds overnight, my belly feels painfully tight, stuffed with the entire contents of my kitchen and the monstrous triplets I've been carrying inside my belly for a full twelve months, maybe more. I groan, leaning back about as far as my swollen girth will allow. It hurts so much more than usual, and I'm beginning to truly worry that I'm about to burst, when a harsh contraction makes me scream as a flood of fluids gushes from between my wide spread legs, like a dam had burst inside of me.

I've been feeling a baby's head low in my hips for months, but now more than ever. It feels like the baby would just fall out of me if it were a normal size. I'm stuck here, wailing and pushing, struggling to birth my horrifyingly oversized litter, crowning an impossibly huge head into my tight sweatpants for hours.

Campus Lake

They tell you swimming is safe. It’s something every girl worries about at some point, after discovering that periods and pregnancy are things, especially if they show you videos, or you look them up on your own. The sweating, screaming, seeing that tender, sensitive slit bulge and stretch and bleed… Ugh. It’s enough to make any sane girl swear off sex, for a while at least.

You start panicking about bringing anything even close to your feminine opening that might have gotten sperm on it. Your brother’s towel, a pair of panties you’ve seen someone touch and you can’t 100% confirm they didn’t sabotage it with just enough semen to make you pregnant. It only takes one sperm, after all. That’s what they pound into your head while showing the value of abstinence. But that rhetoric makes it easy to wonder where that fateful one could be that will put a baby into your belly without even knowing it. Everything becomes a potential host for forcing you into motherhood by accident, especially as you realize how disgusting boys are, carelessly slinging their potent, fertile seed all over, sometimes not even washing their hands.

But fairly quickly, someone realizes you haven’t showered, or you’re refusing to go to the pool or something because someone could have cum in the water at some non-specific point, and you’re not ready to have a baby. For all you know their seed could still be swimming around, invisible and just looking for a ready and waiting egg nestled in your unprotected body. And they’ll sit you down and explain how it really works, or at the very least plunk a book in your lap and tell you to read up. You find out those cells have a fairly short life once exposed to open air, or water, anything but the inside of a female body. And you relax, then go and enjoy the pool, or finally wash off all that dirt.

So, in my freshman year in college, when my friends asked me if I wanted to go swimming in the lake, the idea anything like that could happen didn’t even cross my mind. I simply laid back in the water, utterly relaxed. Everyone seemed to feel it too, the water just a shade warmer than we thought it would be, just perfect for maximum comfort. So easy to just lay back close to the shore, covered all the way to our chins, and just enjoy the sensation of the gentle current tugging at our bodies.

We spent a decent chunk of the day submerged in the water, my friends and I. Unaware that anything was happening, that anything COULD be happening to us. We didn’t realize that the lab up near where the source of the river that fed this lake came from was using it as a handy disposal for biological runoff as a result of their experiments.

And so we happily opened ourselves, left our vulnerable bodies utterly defenseless as the mutated semen ran through the stream. Far more resilient and potent than normal sperm, we would later discover that it could last months before even needing to enter a female host, even longer once inside. The water just washed over our bathing suits and labia, barely any trickling inside. But thousands of the superpowered cells were entering out feminine tunnels every minute. Swimming deeper and deeper into our bodies, seeking our bellies. Inevitably finding them.

Additional chemicals in the water sent our reproductive organs into overdrive. Without noticing, our ovaries began to go to work. Preparing a viable egg far faster than normally possible, before releasing it into the first of many of the eager sperm cells. Our wombs began forming their uterine lining, sending pleasant tingles and shivers through us as we soaked.

In retrospect, that was the worst realization. All of us kept letting out contented sighs and moans, our feminine bodies giving us so much gentle pleasure as they went about doing what they were meant to do by nature. Reinforcing our impending unwanted pregnancies with wave after wave of tingling joy.

I arched my back slightly, moaning quietly, as the bizarre sperm began its assault on my ripe, fertile egg. The walls slowly broke own, yielding to the hundreds of cells seeking to join with it. And finally… one did. And in an instant, it was all assured, no going back. The swelling, the movement inside of a life taking form. The aching, the tears and screams and sweat. Pregnancy. Labor. Childbirth. Motherhood. Laying there in the water, shivering at a slight pleasant tingle, I was impregnated. My fate sealed. All that was left was living it.

The cells began to divide quickly inside me. Our every biological process had been changed by the polluted waters, and while all of us had a very different experience, some better than others, every one of us was destined to have delivered our unwanted children by the next day. The one cell became two. Then four. Eight, then sixteen, then thirty-two, faster and faster. Meanwhile, the growing ball of cells nestled into my uterus, joining itself to me, causing me to gasp and briefly run fingertips over my tingling, now life-filled midsection.

Once all of us were gestating our unasked for offspring, some instinct took over, and we al suddenly wanted to go home. So goodbyes were said, and we all went home, to swell and deliver. Every one of us had a different creature forming deep within our fertile bodies, taking up more space by the moment. Every one of our experiences that night would be different, some of us wouldn’t survive, some would be scarred for life. But there was no changing it now, nothing to do but let these things we’d been forced to bear gestate in our bellies until they were ready to emerge.

I was already showing slightly by the time I walked into my dorm. Small tingles of energy coursed through me, my body once more rewarding me for being a mommy-to-be, thrilled at the prospect of bearing a life within it. I stepped into the shower, letting the clean water run over my slowly swelling form, washing off the evidence of what had happened, pouring thousands of mutant super-sperm of various species down the drain, to run over another unsuspecting girl, to slip inside and force her into motherhood.

I dried off after, gasping as I toweled off my chest. My nipples were incredibly sensitive, my breasts aching. Unbeknownst to me, they were beginning to fill with milk, changing bit by bit to be able to better care for the child I didn’t yet know I was carrying. My body was now starting to struggle with the changes being forced upon it by my condition. My hips ached as they tried to flare out to make delivery easier. My legs burned as they tried to adapt to my increasing weight and shifting center of gravity.

The entire time my belly continued to swell. The slightest touch made pleasure surge through my being, the inexorably growing orb intensely sensitive. The skin was tight and surprisingly warm, and slight pressure showed it was firm, unyielding as my womb hardened to protect the offspring I was forced to gestate.

I began to panic. How had I missed my belly growing like this? Then I felt something move. I let out a cry of alarm, both hands holding my gravid midriff as the pressure grew, my baby continuing to take up more space. My pregnancy was obvious on my slim frame, and I stared in open-mouthed horror at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Heat began to build inside me. I was sweating slightly, panting as I felt heavier by the moment. I could feel my growth tugging at my palms as I cupped the warm, fertile bump in both hands. I began to whimper, confusion and fear making my eyes begin to water. I was really pregnant, something was growing in me… something I would have to birth…

Oh god… birth… all at once all those memories of the videos and the lectures returned to me. The rumors of women getting pregnant by strange creatures, laying eggs or delivering animals or alien creatures… terrifying monsters torturing their way out of their screaming mother’s bodies… I had never had sex, had barely even masturbated. I didn’t want to give birth, didn’t want to be a mother. I didn’t even know who the father was… or what the father was…

But I was getting closer to that moment. It grew nearer by the second, as my unwanted baby took over more and more space within me, forcing my womb to stretch, my body to change as I adapted to the pregnancy that had been forced upon me. My hips radiated pain, the bone desperately trying to force itself wider so they wouldn’t break as I tried to expel whatever was growing inside me. My feminine lips swelled as well, becoming puffy and sensitive as they prepared to have my firstborn slip between them.

I staggered naked into the bedroom, sobbing and calling for help. But I knew the walls were almost completely soundproof, nobody would hear me. I couldn’t remember where I left my phone, and although I tried to find it to call an ambulance to help me, to get this baby OUT before I had to experience labor and childbirth, my swollen womb, the new center of gravity and unfamiliar form hindered me at every turn. I stumbled and staggered my way around my living space, feeling the life inside me getting closer and closer to being born. Every move from inside made me whimper, sobbing and pleading to please, please let this be a dream, let me wake up…

The pressure of whatever I was gestating grew worse and worse, making me feel like I was about to explode with how pregnant I was, the life inside me massive. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and let out a choked sob. I had been skinny, a little short for my age. Now… my pregnancy changed the shape of my entire body, ankles swollen, chest having gone up at least a cup size with small beads of milk starting to form on my aching nipples.

My midsection… I could hardly believe it was mine. I was clearly about to go into labor any second. My belly button was poking out, and I could feel it throbbing. I could it was insanely sensitive, the slightest touch would send me to my knees. Even the slight breeze in my apartment was sending shivers of raw sensation coursing over my full-term swell. A line went all the way down the middle of my fecund orb, splitting it in half vertically, a dark, vivid mark.

Then a contraction finally came, as I stared in horror at my body, the form that had been changed in almost every way by my terrifying condition. The pain was immediate, intense, forcing me to clutch my fertile midsection as I fell to the ground.

It was time.

I was about to have a baby.

I called for help as another contraction gripped me tightly, begging for anyone to come save me. God the pressure, the feeling of impossible fullness… something had to give, something had to break or else I was going to burst apart like a balloon…

And yet, I didn’t. the head of whatever thing was inside just pressed down harder with each powerful spasm, wedging itself deep into my cervix. The labor pains came closer together, somehow grew stronger and even more agonizing than they had started off as. I let out a ragged scream as the strongest contraction yet coursed through me, when suddenly, the pressure eased. With a popping sound, I could feel something running out of me. I looked into the mirror before me, resting on my knees and leaning back, just in time to see the amniotic fluid come gushing from between my puffy feminine lips.

I moaned as I watched the strange substance run from between my legs, it’s appearance just another terrible reminder that the moment had come to deliver this unwanted creature. A thick, musky aroma filled the air as my juices soaked my thighs, ran down over my ankles, and soaked into the carpet. The puddle seemed to almost shimmer, almost like it was some form of oil, faint rainbows playing over the surface as the liquid shifted and pooled before being absorbed by the fibers. Its consistency was strange, almost like mercury, solid and yet liquid at the same time.

I took the merciful pause in the agony of childbirth to gulp down a few breaths. I was grateful I hadn’t tried to get dressed after exiting the shower, as removing anything I had on would be nigh impossible right now. But then, the pain of my body being forced wide open around a living being returned as another cramp assaulted me. I let out a raw scream as the irresistible need to bear down on the large, hard object forcing my cervix apart pounded through my being. Tears ran down my face as I pushed with everything I had, fingers gripping the carpet tight, forming fists as I screamed my unwanted offspring into my birth canal.

I panted, calling weakly for someone, anyone to help before the next contraction. then, there was only more agonized cries, as I felt more of the creature I’d been forced to carry shove into my vagina. This massive, fully-developed child had grown so quickly. It was hard to imagine, as I sobbed and tried to force it down my aching, stretching tunnel toward my quivering entrance, that at one point this was just a single egg that met with a sperm. So small I couldn’t even see it.

Now, that thing that was once so minuscule just a few short hours ago was torturing it’s way out of my body, making me spasm and moan, the pitch of my voice getting higher as more of my most delicate parts were forced to open wider than they ever had before. “Please, please come OUT OF ME NOW I DON’T WANT THIS!!!” I sobbed, toes curling into tight balls as I put all my weight on my arm, leaning way back and pushing with everything I had. Dimly, I registered a ripping sensation, as the creature I was delivering tore through my hymen. By being forced to become a mother, I’d lost my virginity to my own unwanted child.

I looked at the mirror through my tears, and saw my narrow slit starting, at last, to bulge out. As I continued to bear down, more and more of the soft flesh began to tent forward. A teardrop shape gradually formed within my tender vaginal lips as the head started, inch by terrible inch, to crown. The realization caused despair to overwhelm me once more, realizing that it was so close, I was about to give birth, to become a mother against my will.

There was a baby torturing it’s way out of my body right now, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. All I could do was deliver.

A raw scream tore from my throat as the crowning burn consumed my virgin genitals. My hips were sending their own warning messages, having only been able to widen so far before the moment arrived. The shoulders were shoving forcefully against them, causing the bone to strain and ache hideously as the pressure grew. I could only hope the thing inside me didn’t get stuck, or worse, break my hips as it emerged.

“Oh god… oh god… OH GOD NOOOOOOOOO!!!” I bellowed, throwing my head back and giving everything I had to finishing this awful task. The head forced me open wide, and I felt more liquid leaking from my aching womanhood. The amniotic fluid helped the thing I’d gestated slip forward, and as the contraction ended I looked at my reflection once more. I was horrified to see my formerly narrow, delicate opening had been forced impossibly wide by something light blue and covered in scales.

“What… what am I giving b-b-BIRTH TOAHHHGODPLEASE!!!” With every push, I could feel another gush of birthing fluids squirt from my nether regions. It was official, whatever was in me wasn’t human. I was giving the gift of life to a monster I never wanted inside me. All I could do is push, and hope it was over quickly. Even as my hips throbbed, and my slit felt as though it was about to burst into flame, I put all my effort into getting all of this over with, praying that, somehow, I could go back to my life as a college student once this abomination was out of my body.

I could feel the scales catching on my lips as my terrifying offspring surged forward, my screams catching in my throat as the sensation reminded me of the horrible reality of what I was birthing. I arched my back, opened my knees as wide as possible, and as yet another staggering spasm pounded into my body, I bore down with every bit of energy in my body. Slowly, bit by bit, scale by scale, the head slowly slipped from my aching, straining womanhood, each scale snagging the tender flesh, leaving small scratches and cuts.

Then, I spasmed, as the entire head, at last, erupted from my dripping birth canal. I lowered my hand down between my thighs, rubbing the head of my unwanted child. It was slick with amniotic fluid, smooth and scaly. I ran my fingers back, up to where my monstrous child merged with my soft skin, causing me to shudder as I felt the contrasting sensations.

It was my child. It grew in me, was being born from me.

I was a mother.

Then, it was time to begin on the shoulders. I had no more screams left, exhaustion beginning to make itself known from the difficulty of this delivery. I could only whimper as I struggled to get the widest part of my baby out, feeling myself open even more than before, until with a shudder, one of the shoulders emerged. With one more desperate, toe-curling effort, the other arm slipped out of me. A sobbing groan escaped me as I felt a hot, wet, almost orgasmic rush of hot wetness, the body of my firstborn slipping out quickly, accompanied by another surge of fluid.

The whole room stank of sweat and my own juices. I let myself fall back at last, arms collapsing out from under me. My knees splayed to either side, legs having long gone numb. I could hear a strange cry between my legs, my child calling for its mother from the spot it had slid to after being born. I scooted backward, away from it, until I reached my couch to prop myself on.

Panting, exhausted, I took in the appearance of what I’d nurtured within my womb. It looked almost like a normal baby. I noticed the thing seemed to be female. My daughter. My baby girl monster. Covered in blue-ish scales, she still had two feet, two hands. There was a short tail growing from the base of the little thing’s spine, and two little horns on her forehead. Tiny wings flapped on my baby’s back as she reached for her mother.

A cord connected us. Proved I’d birthed it. My baby. My poor baby girl that hadn’t asked to be born.

No… no, I can’t… can’t raise this thing, I’m in college, I can’t…

I can’t love this little reptile creature…

My daughter…

My poor, strange baby girl…

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.

Please baby, fill me up again. Pump me full, I crave to be bigger. Don’t stop until I’m too full of your seed to move

I thought of the unthinkable in that moment. What I was about to do would cause you more pain on top of the labor and ring of fire that would take you soon.

This wasn't the romantic or intimate birth either of us had imagined, but it was the one we were having. We're an hour away from making the descent and this is my last resort. The small pushes you were giving slowly increased in strength as your body took the reigns of the birth of our baby. The counter pressure I provided was the only thing slowing it down. Your entire body heaves between the short reprieves, the quickly tightens and shakes with resistance

"Your doing so well, babe. You're being so strong," I kiss you on the cheek and hold your hand tight.

You barely respond in anything more than a muted moan as you lose another struggle to your body demanding strong pushes. The head is filling your canal to the point I can feel your crotch bulge against my hand.

"Need...out..." You say through barely parted lips. Your sweat soaked shirt twists with your belly. "It stings, oh babe it burns. I-I-"

Your voice slips into a silent weep.

I grit my teeth and look away from your struggling body. I cup my hand around the small sliver of the crown. This baby wasn't going to be born on this plane if I could help it.

Each contraction unravels you further, yet I keep my hand steady to hold our baby in. I can't let your whimpering undo me now when we've come so far.

I continue to hold it there as the plane begins to come to life with activity and your begging becomes more audible. The descent is about to begin.

[Part I] [Part II]

I could barely breathe, barely think. Everything was on fire… stretching, burning, squeezing. I wanted to throw up; I wanted fresh air; I wanted to push, but I wanted to keep this baby in until we landed… My wants didn’t matter though, this baby, our baby, was working on their own schedule.

The lights in the aircraft came on and crew began their routine checks throughout the cabin, getting the plane ready to land.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart. Just half an hour to go until we land.” You whisper softly in my ear.

“I c-can’t do it…” I sob, my sweaty hair falling across my face. “H-hurts… so b-bad… mnnnghh… is the baby nearly o-out?”

I don’t notice the hesitation in your voice when you assure me the baby is not nearly out and that we have plenty of time. It certainly didn’t feel like it…. My eyes were watering with the pain, I’d been pushing so hard, I don’t know how the baby wasn’t crowning by now. I would have moved my hands to feel but they were gripped so tight on each arm rest I daren’t let go, it was the only thing keeping me semi-grounded and held off my screaming.

“We need to put your seatbelt back on honey.” You said fearfully. “And put your chair back upright.”

“You can’t be- hoooo- serious! I’m trying not to have a baby here and you wanna mnnnghh move me?!” I grit through my teeth.

“Yes, we’re so close, nearly home. Just a little bit longer I promise.” You say gently. “Are you having a contraction or can I move my hand? You can’t push when my hand isn’t there okay?”

“Ooooh okay, yeah go - do it.” I panted.

Moving the chair was easy enough but the time it took to get the seatbelt over my heavy swell another contraction was already happening.

“Mnnnnnnghhh gotta-pushhhhh!” I grunted, my body contorting as it pushed the baby further out and I felt it reach a full crown.

“No babe don’t!” You tried to say but my chin was already on my chest, hair falling over my face, as I pushed again with all my strength.

“Is everything alright?” Came the voice of an air steward from the aisle.

With my head dipped it wasn’t obvious I was a woman deep in labour and actively pushing, so it was easy for you to assure the crew member everything was fine and that I was just a little tired and unwell.

Despite my pushing the baby stayed at full crown, stuck by the tight denim of my shorts. I pushed and grunted again, gasping for breath and begging you to help me.