widenmyhips

[widenmyhips]

Something sexy about when you’re super early pregnant and you’ve got the tiniest little pudge sticking out and it’s barely a little handful.

Something sexy about the first time you can’t button your pants.

Something sexy about the first time your clothes are feeling tight because your growing belly is pulling at the fabric

Something sexy about having to lean backwards and put your own hand own back because you’re big enough that you need the extra effort to to support yourself.

Something sexy about when you stand up and your belly looks one size but then when you sit down all of the sudden your belly looks like it’s popping out way more cuz it’s kinda sqooshed. It feels like I’m seeeing how it’ll look very soon.

Something sexy about when your stomach is so big it’s literally perfectly round. Just round belly. And even better when your tits are also perfectly round to go with it.

Something sexy about a pregnant belly that sits high. Like the belly button is so low. And everything is just really up top you can see when it just juts out straight forward and then curves down.

Something sexy about when a belly is super low and almost tear dropped shape. When the belly button is up so high because you’ve gotten so big and heavy that it is pulled down by its own weight.

Something kinda sexy about when your belly starts to outgrow your ability to sit normally. When it starts to drop between your thighs and you have to sit with your thighs wide open so your stomach can rest in between them.

Something kinda sexy about your hand to your back trying to support your own growing body as it gets heavier and heavier.

Something sexy about watching it get harder and harder for you to get up when you’re sitting. Listening to your take a deep breath because it’s hard.

Something sexy about having to watch you rock yourself back and forth to heave yourself up.

Something sexy about watching your bump into things as your body changes faster than you can get used to it.

Something incredibly sexy how more ravenously you’ve been all over me since your pregnancy hormones started to kick in.

[widenmyhips]

I've been so obsessed lately with teen pregnancy as a concept.

Everyone can see your belly swelling up and they all know what you did. They all know you're a nasty little whore who couldn't keep it in her pants and now you have to face the consequences.

Especially if the person who knocked you up is someone with power over you like a teacher or parent, then there's no chance of you getting an abortion, you dirty slut~

fuck i wish i was a pregnant highschool girl

[widenmyhips]

TW for dubcon and eggpreg

It would be so hot to carry a clutch and not even realise until you start feeling yourself out.

Perhaps you got too drunk, perhaps that was a job of some aphrodisiac, but you know you had a blurry one night stand with no protection. You barely remember what happened before or who was the one taking advantage of your drunken state. All you know is that it felt unique, so different from all the other sexual expiriaces you had. Maybe it was intoxication, maybe the fact it was raw. No matter what, you did your damage control by popping a morning after pill. You think you'll just forget about it all soon.

But just a day later you start noticing some changes, your breasts feel sore, your belly looks a little bloated, and you feel a bit nauseous. You chuck it up to side effects of the pill. You try eating a bit better as to not upset your stomach. As you go about your day the nausea starts to pass, but your belly seems to grow, ever so slightly.

At night you are woken up by the feeling of your skin stretching around your belly, it was feeling so tight against the rapid growth. You get up, starting to notice your center of mass has shifted, you feel yourself out, it's no longer just a little bloat, you look around five months along.

You take a pregnancy test, as you wait for the results you start to track down every single time you had sex in those months. You think the most recent encounter was way too early, thinking the one who must have knocked you up is your ex. You panic a little over the thought until you noticed the test results. Oh ...

It's... negative? No no way it can be, you look pregnant, you are growing. You rub your bundle of mystery that's your stomach, it is full, but there's no movement inside, it feels slightly irregular. You take another test, thinking the last one was faulty, also comes out a negative.

You get back to bed, cradling your aching belly, already having plans to book a doctor's visit. But as soon as morning comes, you notice something unusual about your bump. You can feel out round things slightly bulging out of it, they're around the size of your hand. You attempt to poke one through your skin, they're hard, they don't move.

Wait are those... eggs? You play with your sensitive body a bit more feeling them shift inside you as you try to feel out how much you're carrying. You start feeling on the border of horny and afraid, there must be at least half a dozen, but it feels so good to have them inside.

You change your plans, actively avoiding going to the doctor. There's no one out there who would know what to do with your predicament. You start being glad you work a remote job, knowing you can spend a whole day not afraid of people looking at your gravid form.

Every day you develop a bit of a routine, oiling your growing body, making more food to sustain yourself, checking in on the size of the life growing inside you. You try to subtly find the stranger who got you in that state, you knew it was that one night stand that got you here.

By the end of the week you look overdue, and can barely move around your house. The eggs inside seem to have grown bigger than a head of a baby. You're almost bound to your house, walking around naked because you can't reach down to wear any sort of pants. You can't wait to get the eggs out of you. But at the same time there's no sign of this being the end of your journey.

[widenmyhips]

I thought the little jar one was fun so if y'all were interested in my preg preferences here you go!

#poppy talks

[widenmyhips]

jar of kinks 😍😍😍 in case y’all wanted to know what i’m into

[widenmyhips]

always

everything’s been so stressful lately I just want someone to tell me what to do and let me feel like I’m doing a good job

[widenmyhips]

You may insist otherwise. You may tell yourself that, in this modern day, motherhood doesn't define you. You're not going to be like your forebearers, barefoot and pregnant. You're modern, you're progressive. You'll be an independent person, able to do anything or go anywhere, unburdened and unhindered.

But, at the end of the day, you're still an animal. You're still a living organism and, no matter how you mask it or how deep you attempt to bury it, your innate desire to reproduce still boils away below the surface. Just as your ancestors did, going back to the dawn of humanity and even further beyond.

There is some part of you that demands to become pregnant. Your womb begs to be filled. It demands to grow a child inside it, to have seed planted in it to be grown and nurtured inside your body. And the more it aches to be filled, the more it controls your life. Intrusive thoughts that can't be shaken. Looking at pregnant women with envy. Looking at men and wondering how it would feel to have them inside you. And you've slowly trained your social media algorithm to show you babies and the swollen, gravid women who bring them into the world. You start making risky choices, knowing that the next time you bring a man home, there won't even be a mention of a condom.

You can try to deny it. You can try to separate yourself from it, pretend to be above it all. But it won't be long before your womb takes control and you'll be growing rounder by the day. Your womb took control and now your hips have widened, your body has softened, your breasts have become swollen and leak milk. Your belly has become round and stretched, drum tight, covered in angry scars. You're pregnant. And it was inevitable.

[widenmyhips]

What I most adore about birth is the loss of control.

Of the body, being so stretched and changed beyond recognition; your walk, forced into an awkward waddle; your breasts, leaking without your expression; your belly, heavy and swollen and obscene, commandeering your front, compromising your body, impossible to hide.

Of the mind, when it comes time to give birth, you can try to resist, fight against the urge to push, but soon you’ll be squatting wide and bearing down, and the more you’ve denied yourself and your body—not taking off your clothes, continuing to go out in public—the harder it’ll be.

The idea of bodily instinct taking you over… ugh.

I love subby birthers, but there’s something about a dom giving birth. Someone who normally has so much control, being subject to their own body 🫠

[widenmyhips]

my my I wonder who inspired my Dom to write such a delicious fantasy

The Emptiness

TW: Involuntary drugging

Madison didn't have an explanation for what was happening to her. She didn't know about the pills that had been crushed up and mixed into her drink night after night, only that her boyfriend seemed only too happy to make her milkshakes and cocktails and whatever else she desired. She didn't know about the injections, the hormones that had been pumped into her night after night, writing off the aching and the soreness as random.

But her body was changing underneath her. Every day she seemed to bring new changes with it. Her breasts had swollen, becoming round and firm. The D cups that she had been proud of now bulging over her bras, making them almost unwearable, nearly doubled in size. Blue veins snaked across her pale skin, her nipples darkening, thickening, making themselves known in everything she wore.

Her hips, too, had widened, giving her an hourglass shape. She struggled, now, to get her jeans on, the blue denim feeling painted on as it barely held back the extra padding that found its way to her hips and thighs and especially her ass. A hair band looped through the button hole kept them on, but for how much longer, Madison couldn't say. Every time she sat down, felt her ass squish against her chair, she was sure her jeans would finally give up.

But worst of all, worse than the growth and the changes and feeling so self-conscious about the shape of her body, was the emptiness.

The deep, clawing emptiness inside her.

God, she couldn't stand it. She often joked that her period was just her womb being angry at her for not getting pregnant, but now it was like she had turned feral. It tormented her every hour of the day. She couldn't look at a picture of a baby without feeling her womb clench with need. There were times when it was so bad that it made her whimper, holding her middle, feeling like her body was going to turn itself inside out. On nights when she slept alone, she rarely truly slept. An orgasm would only give her a few hours respite from the desperation, the instinctive need above all else to reproduce, to ensure that her DNA made it to a new generation.

Nights when her boyfriend was over, she didn't sleep at all until he had completely exhausted her. It was a wonderful that the bedframe didn't leave dents in the wall after the constant thrusting. She often had to pull a pillow over her face to stifle the moans and screams of pure, carnal pleasure. But it was never enough. The way he... he... teased her. Wearing a condom. Fucking her like that and denying her what she really wanted, deep down in the empty, aching core of her femininity. The scraps that remained of her rational mind fought against the idea of being fucked raw, not wanting to surrender her future to a child. She was just about to graduate college, after all. She couldn't walk across the stage with a baby belly. She couldn't undermine her career just when it's about to begin. But every part of her body needed it; more than air in her lungs or food in her belly, she needed to be bred.

Madison didn't know what to think when she found the vial at the bottom of her boyfriend's bag. Searching the name on her phone led her to a list of side effects that made her throat tighten: swelling of secondary sexual characteristics including breasts, hips, and rear; increased sexual appetite; increased fertility. A strange sense of relief washed over her. At least she knew why it was happening to her. She knew that she should be furious. She should throw him out, break up with him, maybe even call the police. But she didn't.

All she did was whimper when she saw her boyfriend standing in the doorway, pleased at what his hard work had wrought. Her throat is dry and it takes her a moment to find her voice.

"What... What did..."

Madison's boyfriend walks over to her, looming over where she kneels on the edge of the bed. His hand cups her chin, not forcefully, just enough to make sure she can't look away.

"I needed to make you into a mother, Maddy. So I made you need it as badly as I did. And, now that you know, we can begin in earnest. What do you think, baby? No condom tonight?"

Warm tears sting at the corners of Madison's eyes, not upset, but so very relieved. Finally, the emptiness would be filled.

Finally, Madison would be a mother.

Finally.

#from the mind of my Dom #pregnancy kink #breast expansion #hourglass expansion #cw: noncon #cw: medical #cw: medication #pregnancy kink text #breeding k!nk #breeding kink

[widenmyhips]

Bread, Milk, and Eggs

words: 1390

content: rapid pregnancy and birth, lactation, birth denial, fpreg

Nadia grabbed a basket on the way into the supermarket. She wouldn’t need a cart. Her list only consisted of three simple things. The basket swung as she combed the aisles, leisurely.

Bread

She picked out a loaf, pausing to read the expiration date before dropping it in the basket.

As it plopped in, she immediately felt a strange sensation. It was almost like a tugging in her navel, a buttery innie. She pressed her lean, dark tummy, firm with athleticism. Not concerned. Just a little curious.

Then the tugging became a pressure, consistent with the bloated sensation she would experience on her period. Nadia frowned. She pressed down on her belly, and, to her surprise, it pressed back.

“The hell—?” She was really frowning now. She realized how she must look to passerby, a college-age girl in a crop top and jean shorts, staring at her stomach.

Probably just gas or something, she thought. She continued down the aisle. When she reached the end, she looked down again, this time gasping audibly. Her belly had a curve to it, bending a little past the waistline of her jean shorts now. Nadia pressed down again, hard. She stopped when she felt nausea well up inside her. Her belly was still mostly muscle, but had a slight softness to it, a give like a firm peach. As she watched, it swelled even more, pushing out slowly to stretch her shorts.

“Holy fuck,” Nadia muttered, suddenly feeling the flesh of her belly contained in the seams of her waistline like it had never been before. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and reached around it to undo the button, fingers fumbling. She gasped, breathing, and her belly expanded even more without the restriction.

Nadia could now spread her fingertips around its underside. She looked almost, she looked—

No. Nah. No fuckin’ way.

Nadia grabbed the bread from the basket and lifted it to her eyes. The expiration date had been nine months from now when she’d picked it out.

Now, it was four.

“I gotta be tripping,” Nadia mumbled.

She laced her fingers over her navel and held firm as the skin filled her hands and pushed against them. She refused to let it grow any more and ruin her trim tummy and athletic figure. Then a pain and pressure shot through her belly, as though something had rose, shoving, up into her sternum. She let go, and her belly rapidly dropped, the skin stretching tightly, itching around her belly, her taut belly muscles being pulled and loosened and smoothed into a round, curving shape. She watched in mounting horror, cupping her mouth as her innie rose and popped outward. Then, a sharp inner jab, distending its tight surface. Nadia gasped. Movements wriggled her belly viscerally. She clutched at her lively swell, unable to deny it any longer.

“Shit, I’m pregnant,” she said.

Dark stretch marks patterned the sheening brown skin. Nadia regretted her crop top, exposing her to the entire supermarket. She glanced around. She only needed a few more things, then she could get to a doctor. She began to speed-walk, realizing that her strut had been hindered to a waddle, heavy belly forcing her to walk with her back curved to support the gravid weight.

Without realizing it, Nadia rested her hand atop the high shelf of her belly as she walked, a natural maternal gesture.

Milk

She came to the dairy aisle and opened the door, suppressing a sharp breath as her belly rippled and twitched with a flurry of kicks. As soon as she placed a carton of milk in her basket, she was subjected to another set of sensations.

She recoiled.

“Noooo,” Nadia moaned, heedless to glances from passerby. “No, no, not again!”

Sharp points of pressure stabbed through her nipples, and she watched as they stiffened under her crop top, then began to thicken and elongate, inching outward. Her small breasts, she realized, were swelling as well. They sank, full, still not particularly large but swollen now, tender. High before, their undersides now rested on her belly, humiliatingly completely her very pregnant appearance. Nadia cupped them, then gasped; her fat nipples were sensitive, raw. The simple contact had leeched milk from the tips, forming twin wet spots on her tip. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling them continue to dribble achingly.

My top, Nadia thought. My favorite fucking top.

She had to get out of here, now. Before anyone saw her, leaking milk in the dairy aisle. Before anything… worse could happen.

As if on cue, her belly shook and swayed with powerful, urgent kicks.

Eggs

One more item. Fortunately, it was on the same aisle, near the milk. Nadia scanned quickly, chose a carton at random, not even bothering to check the eggs for cracks as she usually did. Breast milk ran freely down her front now, her top soaked with two spreading wet patches. She threw the carton into her basket and heard a crack.

Nadia cursed. She opened the cartoon and saw that it only contained a single broken egg.

“What the—”

Then her belly surged, a sudden pressure rushing through her, downward. Her knees trembled, weak. She clasped the aisle fridge handle to remain upright as fluid flushed from her vagina, drenching her legs and puddling the floor. Immediately she felt something large, heavy, and round drop between her pelvis. Her belly hung lower. The bones of her hips craned with forceful pressure; they were still narrow and girlish, unable to reach the significant width of expecting mothers in time for her own birth.

Birth.

“No, I—” Nadia stuttered, clutching her belly. “I can’t be—nnnngh.”

An urge to bear down pounded in her head. Nadia fought it, sleek muscled body tensing with resistance. She tried to put her legs together, feeling like the baby would fall between them with her widened stance, and found that she couldn’t anymore. They were permanently spread, hips opened in preparation. She turned and began to waddle as fast as she could to the front of the store, hand pressed over the sodden crotch of her shorts. Running had become a ridiculous notion, nearly impossible. Her knees wavered, threatening collapse. She couldn’t bring her legs together as she pumped them forward, and her belly swung, gravid and obtrusive, as she moved.

Another contraction. Every muscle in her belly clamped down, transforming it into a tight, rigid ball, driving the breath from her.

Don’t push, she thought. Don’t push. Pushing makes it real. Don’t—

She dropped into a deep squat in the middle of the aisle. Gripping the belly between her thighs hard enough to indent the surface, she bore down with a long, uninterrupted groan. Internal muscles thrust her baby through her canal, opening her. Her hips creaked. Her voice cracked, shrill now as she pushed again. The head slid between them, almost dislocating them with its width. She forced her legs even wider instinctually, desperate to make room for the descending head.

“Holy shit, she’s in labor!”

“Someone call 9-1-1!”

The people around her had stopped, unsure. They watched her, some phone cameras now winking down at Nadia in her birthing squat.

Her eyes widened as the contraction abated with the baby’s head resting in her vagina, filling her entire canal with tremendous weight. She could feel herself bulging into her jean shorts. On quivering spread legs she raised herself and hobbled out of the aisle.

“Excuse me, ma’am! You have to pay first!” an employee demanded as she passed the checkout, basket swinging from her arm.

The store alarms rang, and then Nadia was gripped by another contraction.

She buckled, bowing into another squat and pushing long, shoving her baby further into her tented jean shorts. The crown burned and dilated her vagina into a hot, red teardrop, then a drawn circle. Amniotic fluid spilled, spurting into the fabric around the head. Then her progress was suddenly, excruciatingly halted by her shorts. She’d pushed half a head into them and the stretched fabric wouldn’t yield any more space. Nadia bore down, her clenching efforts fruitless now. Her pussy slipped, tense and bloodless around the head. She threw her head back and moaned with the screaming sirens.

It had been three simple things. The fourth? Well, the fourth she’d never expected to be so complicated.

[widenmyhips]

i’d like to give a public shoutout to my Dom, because i know he has notifications turned on and he deserves it <3

i’m so incredibly lucky that this blog led me to find someone like him, as there aren’t many people who would give so much of themselves to lil ole me, let alone a stranger over the internet. granted, i don’t think we’re strangers anymore, but it still surprises me every day, the ways he is willing to communicate, learn, support, and offer help to me, emotionally, psychologically, even physically, from hundreds of miles away. he makes the smallest decisions for me, and offers the greatest emotional support. he doesn’t just make me feel desired and sexy, but makes me feel worth taking care of, worth pampering and spoiling.

it takes a special kind of person, a special kind of Dom, who is not just able to give you what you want sexually, but willing to help you in so many other regards as well, so good luck to everyone still searching. because i found one that’s mine.

#poppy talks

[widenmyhips]

I want it to be deeply affectionate and primal. I HAVE to knock you up. Plant my seed in you. Continue my line. But I'll stay by your side the entire time. Cuddle you, spoil you, provide for you. All with the exciting knowledge that I've marked you in the most permanent and intimate way possible. Your belly swelling, hips widening, breast ready to do what they are ment to. How wonderful it would be..

[widenmyhips]

The moment you walked into my classroom, I knew you had to be mine. I'd been looking a long time for someone to carry my children, and impatience nearly had me holding you back after the lecture to put a ring on your finger.

You came to my office hours, shyly asking me questions that proved you as smart as you were beautiful. I had every intention of waiting out the semester, until you locked the door and unbuttoned your shirt.

You brought a condom for me. You don't want to get pregnant--you're a freshman in college and you have big career goals. But I'm running out of time. My first wife wouldn't and my second couldn't have children. I want a dozen before I retire, and that means I'll need to put at least one set of twins in you.

Your nineteenth birthday we drink a bottle of wine and I eat you out until you forget how to speak. You forget your birth control pill the next morning. We make love before class.

One missed pill was all it took. Those two pink lines on the pregnancy test are a dream come true. You cup your hand protectively over your flat stomach, and I can see your future slot into place. I wouldn't love you if you weren't a natural parent at your core.

You waver. You have plenty of time. But I don't. And when I offer to hire a nanny and a cleaner, if only you'll keep the baby... that's all the enticement you need to give into your natural instincts.

[widenmyhips]

I loved the Centaur Breeder story! Can u write a second part where the human is pregnant with foals?

Part One is Here

Humans can carry centaur young to term. It doesn’t seem possible, but it always works out. That’s part of why you study them. Your colleagues are the best in the business, and now they have a willing text subject. Getting bred was the best thing you ever did for your career.

It’s easy, at first. Your belly rounds out nicely and you continue work, now with personal experience. You are pampered by the entire lab. You buy maternity clothes that show off your growing curves.

By the end of the second trimester, the trouble starts. Your belly is visibly bigger at every day’s check up. It’s hard to get out of bed because you’re pinned by the weight of your belly. You go from a twin belly, to triplets, and then you get wider instead. By month nine, your belly is so big you can’t work in the lab anymore, and so wide you’re a hazard in hallways. You get a wheeled cart do you can get from your bed to the bathroom and back.

Your foal is active, rotating in your womb and stretching long limbs. When your colleagues stare in shock and horror, you’re filled with nothing but pride. Your body had done its duty so well. Your womb weighs more than you do, and you still have two months before you get to meet your miracle. You'll gestate as long as a mare does, and squeeze a full size foal out of your stretched out cunt.

[widenmyhips]

would you rather be pregnant twice with one baby or be pregnant once with twins?

It's something that's been on my mind lately, and I'm torn between being big and being pregnant twice

Idk I wanna ask your opinion on the matter, have a great day/night

pregnancy twice is soooo good, like consecutive??? I always daydream about my friends or maybe the PTA moms getting confused about how long I've been pregnant considering they were SURE I was almost due before the summer started, maybe I just haven't lost the tummy weight? Until a few months later it's clear the only tummy weight I have is baby #2 hehehehe

#poppy talks #asks

[widenmyhips]

What's a subliminal?

I’m not an expert but I think it’s like a little video that uses hypnosis techniques to influence you etc etc

#poppy talks #asks

[widenmyhips]

is there somewhere i can commission nsfw subliminals? i’m high asf so forgive me if i don’t know anything but a subby breeding hypno video would go so hard rn omfg

#poppy talks