Birth Quickie 1:

Okay but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this silly scenario and I thought you’d enjoy!!! A guy in college who finally gets the freedom he needs away from his small town upbringing and its rules and he finds himself in a downtown bustling area his first year of college with a roommate in a small bunk bed dormitory. He couldn’t be happier, and he uses his newfound freedom to go out to clubs in clothes that are barely wider than belts and hook up with all the strangers he’s ever fantasized about.

And it doesn’t take long for it all to catch up with him. Within just a few weeks he’s got a very small curve to his stomach that’s just beginning to press against the top button of his jeans but he waves it off. Everyone gains the freshman 15, who cares?! And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t linger putting on his shirt in the morning just to feel his roommates eyes burning into his body, hungry and desperate. A few weeks later and he can’t deny that somethings wrong when he can’t even button his pants anymore, let alone even get the zip up.

It’s not a question of if he’s pregnant, no the shock comes when he finds out it’s quadruplets. And this seems to fuel him even more. Why be careful now that he’s already pregnant? It’s not like he can get knocked up again!!

Or so he thinks until he’s staring at an ultrasound monitor in shock seeing now six little blobs of varying sizes. Huh, looks like he can get more pregnant. His roommate thinks this’ll deter him from his late night club hookups but it doesn’t. If anything he goes from unintentionally to very intentionally getting more knocked up with every week. He wears tights and fish nets and crop tops and loves the feeling of strangers hands on the soft of his hips, the once-sharp jut of his hip bones now disappearing under a swollen, perfectly round baby bump still small enough to pass off as just a few months along with one. He loves walking home afterwards with his hand on the small underside of his belly thinking of if he’s just gotten a new baby in there. Some nights he comes home and collapses into bed after multiple hookups in one night and his roommate swears he looks slightly bigger than when he’d left that evening

Maybe he’ll start to regret it when he’s barely able to sit behind his desk in class, his belly irresponsibly spilling out and taking up his entire lap as it shifts and wobbles slightly on its own from the sheer amount of baby in there. He’s always got one hand on it just to feel the barely-there fluttering in his womb, trying to ignore the hungry stares of the football team behind him, knowing that the second class ends he may just get a few new additions to take home. And he’s still got months before the first one is out!

i wish i had more to add but you wrote this perfectly omg. the idea of a cute pregnant boy strutting down to the club, hand holding his big old bump… bet the roommate wants to have a turn and knock up the boy up himself, especially since he gets a front row seat to the boy growing.

now i don’t know if it’s better for it to be babies at different development or if the new babies catch up to their older siblings

either way omg anon this was so good and i will now be thinking about this while im out

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

IT WASN'T A DREAM ×_×

BOO!

Now you're scarily pregnant. Good luck with the immense brood of squirming monsters~

OH NOOO!

Thinking about an insatiable partner seizing me by my swollen, gravid curves and vowing to get me "even more pregnant." It makes for a hot fuck, I play along, talking about how I couldn't possibly get even bigger, about how could you even want me even heavier and riper, about how would I even function since I'm already too big, all the hot things I imagine, and want my lover to imagine. Breeding their already-bred plaything. Knocking me up all over again. Weighing me down even heavier, blowing me up even grander. Oh, babe, if I'm not big enough for you yet, fill me up again, I promise I'll swell and grow and ache and leak for you, if you do.... It's hot roleplay, a fun thing to pretend. Harmless fun.

Except, what if over the next couple of weeks, I notice... certain changes in my progression. My belly is getting bigger than doctors projected. My weight, once steadily growing, now spikes as my cravings have me ballooning like wild. I stretch my most forgiving maternity clothes to the limit, chest bloating up, spilling out of my tops, elastic waistbands suddenly not elastic enough for my new broader belly, my new vaster ass. What would this mean for my pregnancy? Would I be worried, or... turned on?

What if I went to meet my lover, stuffed into the sexiest dress I can still manage, biggest clothes too small. What if I confessed what has been happening to me, my body growing out of control, too fast, too large. What if I pulled them close and whispered what I thought had caused it, and felt their fingers dig into my plush hips, a wicked look in their eye as they push me gently back onto the bed, too weighed-down to resist and too swept-up to try, and they put their hands, reverent, on my massive belly, and smiled with an irresistible hunger....

What then?

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

I’m realizing this is a real fun trope for my brain. Hidden belly when laying on back, everything pushing to the front when sitting up…..

What's the biggest a host has been without bursting?

This can vary from host to host, as well as based on the species. However, a few examples can give us a general idea of just how big some people can go.

Whether it be rapidly or slowly, some women reach sizes that are technically considered normal. However, the myriad of stretch marks tells a very different story as their body struggles to handle all the expansion. Given that this is still within the realm of normalcy, these are the most well documented.

Further still we reach the outliers, who all are well past normal sizes and are very frequently discovered sooner. Though there are very few occasions where ACC agents make it in time before birthing happens, the few exception have led to a well of data to go through.

Past this point are very few fringe cases that were almost always discovered after the fact. While all investigations are ongoing, we hope to find more information on these potential 'brood queens' as agents have taken to calling them around the compounds. Due to no better naming convention having been presented, the R&D department has taken to using that name until a better one has been presented...

-Dr.Adam Carter

Wait what are you doing with that syringe? What do you mean more puppies? Look at this belly! I can’t possible fit one more in here…

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.

Public Reporting

Please note that any and all reports from the general public are welcome and will be processed by assigned agents. Possible responses from researchers regarding symptoms and possible plans of action may also be given on a case by case basis. We at the ACC are dedicated to assisting the public in any regards to alien impregnation.