W.I.P. Belly-themed Mod For World Of Horror

What a fucking diety.

Save this video before its lost.

Car birth

imagine you start a new form of birth control, and at first you think it’s working just fine. it even has the added benefit of completely stopping your period. your libido has ramped up a bit as well, but you have an *extremely successful* social life. that’s what the bc is for in the first place.

all is well until about a month after you start it, when you start noticing some… interesting weight gain. you’d shrug it off as another symptom of the bc, but you want to be sure, so you take a test. negative, thank god. aside from the slight paranoia, your partners certainly don’t seem to mind the soft, supple changes.

but you keep growing. within a week, you’re having to find larger pants and bras/binders to make room for your new curves. to say your tummy is noticeable would be putting it lightly.

you arrive at the doc’s office. she openly stares at you when she sees you, and lets you know that she’s going to do an ultrasound on you. you let her know that you’ve taken three tests at this point, all of them negative. she laughs nervously.

“I think you might be having an… unexpected reaction to the new birth control.”

she explains that what may have happened is, rather than fully stopping your cycle, the birth control locked you into the stage of the cycle you were experiencing when you started it. which, in your case, seems to have been ovulation.

“In other words, I think you may have been ovulating nonstop for the past two months. I’d guess that’s an egg or two every week, maybe three,” she says, as she places the wand on your sensitive midriff and begins sliding it around.

“Out of curiosity,” she says with an edge in her voice, “how frequently have you been sexually active?” you try not to notice how pale her face has gone.

you’re starting to feel a little dizzy from all this new information. you let her now that, before you started the new stuff, you’d average about one hook-up a week, maybe twice with an fwb, but with your upped sexual drive… it’s been a bit more than that.

she looks at the screen, and goes even paler. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re already laying down. No good way to say this, so I’ll just show you.”

she turns the screen to you.

you faint before you’re able to finish counting.

There is a mass outbreak of very, very dangerous beings, for all genders!

Please, take a moment to check if your womb is empty.

Do you feel any hardness? A swell? Any movement?

Im Helena, your 5’, big breasted, dark haired and 42 weeks overdue classmate.

U see me groaning and arching my back during class, a few minutes after I ask for permission to go to the bathroom you asked for it too, just to follow me.

I walk fast and went out of the building, you follow me slowly so I didn’t notice. You stare at me as I stop to breathe each 2 or 3 minutes, I finally made it to the furthest bathroom of the campus where no one goes that early. I get into the showers and started taking my clothes out, I’m sure this baby is coming out but I don’t know even how to push, I’m so scared.

Im taking my bra off when I see you just staring at me, I try to cover my big tits and I scream “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE???” I instantly fell on my knees while I feel a lot of water dripping down my legs…

Easily 2 of my favorite animations , go check out the artists

💕 Thinking about someone who's buried underneath their baby belly. So vast and heavy and undulating, it's hard to tell that there is a person struggling underneath~

More pregnant than person. Just a ball of flesh. Yum ~

Bright red, pulsing. Grumbling, gurgling, sounding like a pissed off monster.

That’s the best way to describe their belly: just monstrous. Just something utterly inhuman.

They could barely breathe. Even without their gargantuan belly pressing down on them like this, they are so packed, their lungs already didn’t have enough room to expand.

They quietly wail. Crying hurts almost too. It makes it harder to breathe but it’s all they could do.

They were so damn stupid to fuck around when they knew they were so fertile.

They squirm underneath their giant orb in the remains of their bed. Their bed had long given out underneath them and now, they fear the worst for their wooden weak floor.

They are still growing and they are hearing those ominous creaks again. It just might be their floor… or maybe even their belly…

They don’t know what’ll be worse: bursting or falling straight through a whole floor.

They cry harder. They can’t get any bigger. They don’t know what to do with all of these babies, their room is getting close in on them and they don’t know what’s going to burst or break next

They CAN’T get any bigger

But they most definitely will

“Please stop growing… I can’t take anymore… I’m going explode…” Their hands hover over their sensitive, groaning gut and beg. They are scared to even touch it.

And their belly responds with a dark rumble, signaling an impending growth spurt. The carrier whimpers and just prays as they try to prepare as best as they could

I won't post anything else that isn't fetish shit on this blog but I want to say something:

Tumblr isn't real life.

I spent my formative years on Tumblr thinking that bisexuals and pansexuals were a huge divide, and that people assumed bisexuals were transphobic. Then I entered the world and no one thought that and I spent dozens of hours upset over nothing.

Social media feeds on *making you upset*. The more you are upset, the more you interact. Do not let that color your vision of the world.

Are there people who think bisexuals/pansexuals are transphobic? Sure, there are idiots. Are there people who think trans men have inherited the privileges of cis men? Sure, there are idiots.

You don't need to indulge them. Gender theory has moved past this debate since Gender Trouble was published and it's mostly free online.

Don't get your gender theory from Tumblr. Get your fetish porn from Tumblr.

trans men aren't cis women, though. you get that, right? you get that trans men aren't cis women? and that doesn't change even if you think they are?

Have been on a fantasy kick and thinking of scenarios in my head all the time, and here's one just for fun!

A powerful mage guy, young and attractive and absolutely full of himself, fucks a noble at a social event to forge an alliance, but soon realizes that he's now pregnant. It's a very inconvenient time for him, he doesn't want to deal with a pregnancy right now, but getting rid of it feels wasteful, since there are ways he could use it to his advantage later on - thus, he decides to use magic and slow down his pregnancy significantly, essentially freezing it in the same spot for as long as he can. He casts the spell after the morning sickness finally passes (wouldn't want to be stuck with that for years!), and by that time, he's on month four, has a small delicate bump that's easy to conceal with clothing or explain away as just some intestinal bloating, and the baby is already kicking.

Since mages have very long lifespans, he easily spends the next few decades or so in this state: stomach uncomfortably swollen but not obviously so, hormones and mood swings and cravings being in full swing, and the baby constantly reminding him of his condition by kicking and turning in his tummy, sometimes visibly so, much to his embarrassment (having to explain it with a very upset stomach every time can get old fast). Overall, he's uncomfortable but not deadly so, and the anxiety of looming parenthood, along with the embarassment over his condition, is too strong for him to finally lift the spell and let the pregnancy continue. Eventually, he gets used to it, and having the baby as his constant companion feels comforting in a way...

Until one day, the mage exhausts all of his magic during a duel or by casting an extra complex spell, and the magic that was being used to freeze the pregnancy is no longer there. Two things can happen: either he doesn't notice it until his stomach begins growing more and more every day and resigns to his fate, knowing full well that he won't recover enough magic in the few months he has left before the birth, or the baby rapidly grows in his womb and is born within hours, stretching the skin, the poor mage's insides and the opening it's going to be pushed through. Either way, he'll have a lot of explaining to do, especially if the nobleman daddy is now in his old age and has no other heirs...

oo or what if the baby rapidly grows to whatever age it's been in his belly for? Either it grows into a fully adult human, or just grows into an adult sized baby. Either way, when his magic runs out, his belly explodes with growth as his pregnancy rapidly catches after being frozen in time for decades. His belly goes from being just a barely noticeable bump to nine months to overdue in moments, painfully stretching his skin as the baby swells inside him.

He screams in pain, panicking as he clutches his tummy trying to contain the swelling, but he has no mana left, leaving him completely helpless as he watches his belly stretch out in front of him. It bursts out of his robes, exposing the tight red skin, now laced with dark angry stretchmarks.

He desperately searches his home for any source of many, mana herbs or potions he can use to stop or slow the growth, but the rapidly increasing weight is making it harder and harder to move. He's stumbling as he holds his swelling tummy, leaning on the walls for support and crying in pain while the baby kicks and squirms inside. It's quickly getting more and more powerful as it grows, almost like it's trying to break its way out of him.

He can feel his skin creaking, nearing its limit and struggling to contain its heavy load. Fear fills his chest as he frantically searches his home, belly so heavy now that he's forced to crawl on the ground, tummy dragging on the floor below him. His womb can't hold on much longer if he doesn't find a mana source soon, and he can already feel the fibres of his taut flesh beginning to snap...

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.