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novin_haHow about some kinky tentacle fanfiction instead of an actual personal entry...?
Warnings: Tentacle!kink. Dubcon!m-preg. Established relationship. Threesome. Pregnant sex. Anal pregnant sex, probably.
This part is ~1400 words of fluff and crack!porn of the Illyria/Faith/Wesley variety.
Dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girlupnorth, also known as The Enabler.
Joyful Mysteries or,
DOOM, DOMESTICATED
The Visitation
“In which universe did impregnating me seem like a reasonable idea?”
He was lying on the couch, a cold compress on his brow, his feet raised up on a couple of pillows. Illyria and Faith exchanged another one of these annoying glances.
“Well. Pregnant women get really horny, so I thought it’d be good for your libido,” said Faith.
Illyria blinked.
“Carrying my progeny is the highest possible honour. I shall accept your gratitude now.”
Wesley turned to her.
“You have my profound appreciation. That said, wouldn’t it be proper to ask me?”
“He is being sarcastic. It can’t be good for our baby,” said Faith, smiling widely and inappropriately. “Don’t get snippy, Wes, we just wanted you to feel… essential. Irreplaceable!”
For the most part, he felt really hungry.
“Explain this whole thing to me,” he asked. “And please, bring me some food.”
“Healthy, organic food,” added Faith.
“You shall make your body a worthy vessel for my progeny,” agreed Illyria.
*~*~*
Wesley strongly suspected there were no newspapers with Agony Aunts willing to answer the question of “How do you ask a God-King about her opinion on Roe v. Wade?” Besides, he was fairly sure the actual reply from the God-King in question would come in block capitals, begin with “sacrilege!” and end with spine-ripping.
When a God asks you to bear its offspring, you just say “yes”.
“Just ask Blessed Virgin Mary,” agreed Faith.
Wesley choked on his herbal, caffeine and theine-free tea.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, experimentally.
This time, it didn’t make him feel like fainting.
He thought it might be the hormones kicking in.
*~*~*
He had a number of questions. Of course, neither of the mothers had seen fit to do any research before jumping on the “impregnating Wyndham-Pryce” wagon, so he had to find the answers himself.
Question number one: how long was the pregnancy going to take?
His expanding middle on the very next day after the conception suggested that, like with many demonic and deity-related pregnancies, a usual nine-month progression was pretty much out of the question. An extensive reading suggested that the most probable time span would range from two weeks up to three months.
He suspected he might manage to survive that long.
Question number two: however will he give birth to the thing?
This one he considered for a couple of seconds before firmly deciding on a caesarean, even if he were to perform it on his own person. Not one of his natural orifices seemed fitting.
Question number three: will the baby have tentacles?
He’d probably love him, her or the creature of unspecified gender anyway, so no use pondering beforehand.
Question number four seemed quite urgent, so he put down his notepad and approached Illyria directly.
“Are you quite sure the pregnancy won’t kill me?”
She gave him a “how dare you question my judgement?” glare, so he decided he was quite safe from the progeny, if not from the God-King mother.
Question number five: should he eat anything unusual to support the pregnancy?
His research suggested that if so, he would experience unstoppable cravings, forcing him to ingest whatever sustenance the foetus required. That could mean a number of things, from footwear and plastic right down to livestock complete with bones, horns and cloven hooves.
That reading just made him hungry for chocolate ice-cream.
Only later did it occur to him that he never once questioned the triple genetic origin of the child. That probably said volumes about both his line of work and the relationship he was in.
He went to bed quite early, feeling surprisingly tired. Illyria joined him soon after, while Faith went out to slay a couple of vampires before sleep.
She woke him up later at night when she crawled into bed with them.
“You look even bigger than when I left,” she murmured, settling down next to him.
“Words can hurt, you know-“ he started, only to stop abruptly.
“What?” Faith whispered loudly.
“Not as much as a kick in the liver from inside your stomach, though,” he finished.
*~*~*
By morning, the kicks were quite perceptible, and Illyria and Faith took turns feeling the movements inside him. He envied them – after the initial sense of wonderment, the football game going on inside him started to grate. He would have liked a couple of hours of sleep, uninterrupted by the acrobatics that kept making him fearful for his intestines.
“I sincerely doubt you can feel the kicks down there, Faith,” he said, when the Slayer’s hand suddenly moved down, straight into his boxers. “If you could, my shrieks of pain would probably have already woken up the neighbourhood.”
Faith giggled.
“Is this pregnancy wood?”
She took his hand and placed it under her nightshirt.
“Not really, Faith, it’s just my natural reaction to the proximity of two very beautiful women,” he replied, moving his fingers through her pubic hair slowly. “I think the real question is, is it my pregnancy that makes you wet?”
She laughed. Illyria tugged at his boxers, and he took them off obediently if with some difficulty.
“More like your natural reaction,” Faith murmured, stroking his stomach with one hand, and his cock with the other. “Come here,” she added, raising one of her legs and placing it on his hip.
His stomach made it awkward, but Faith didn’t seem to mind. She guided him inside and started moving, reminding him just how incredible her muscle control was.
Illyria’s hands held and stroked his back and neck, and it didn’t take long before he came with a small cry. Faith kissed him on the lips, moved away, and stood up on the bed.
“My turn in the middle,” she said, and he moved to the side, letting her squeeze between him and Illyria.
Before long, it was him stroking Faith’s back and buttocks and kissing her nape, while Illyria and her finger-fucked each other, slowly and lazily, until they both came.
Afterwards, they brought him breakfast to bed. He was almost hoping for the three months.
*~*~*
Finding a demon ob-gyn was easier than he would have expected. A couple of calls and they had an emergency appointment for eight pm. He felt anxious all day, although thankfully the kicking stopped sometime after noon.
He started eating at breakfast and didn’t exactly stop until he actually got into the car. Faith kept looking at his paunch and laughing.
On top of that, the heartburn was killing him.
He didn’t like it when they were driving. Illyria didn’t seem to grasp the concept of avoiding collisions and expected everyone to get out off her way. Faith was a good driver most of the time, but every once in a while something would distract her, and only her Slayer reflexes had saved them from a couple of close calls. Still, he didn’t really cherish the thought of trying to fit himself behind the wheel.
Faith took the keys.
“Drive safe, please,” he said, sitting in the back. “There’s a baby on board.”
Faith laughed so hard she almost fell out of the car. He kept his eyes closed all the way.
*~*~*
The obstetrician took one look at Wesley and smiled widely, baring her two rows of teeth.
“It’s really nice to see an equal opportunity deific pregnancy! How’s the impromptu uterus agreeing with you, Mr… Pryce?”
“Wyndham-Pryce, and these are the mothers, Illyria and Faith Lehane. Pleasure to meet you, and as to the uterus, you tell me.”
“If you’d just follow me to the exam room.”
Twenty minutes of indignity later, the doctor was covering his stomach with cold gel and asking about the “surrounding situation”.
“Just tell me if I’m out of line, but let me get this straight – are you the surrogate for these two ladies?”
He ground his teeth. Illyria answered.
“Both man and Slayer are my mates,” she explained. “I decided mixing our essence and seed to create new life was appropriate at this time.”
“That’s so amazing!” the doctor exclaimed, moving the ultrasound around. Wesley kept his gaze fixed on the screen. There were many limbs. One of them seemed to be waving at him.
“Tentacles it is, I guess,” he sighed.
“Tell me what you see!” Faith demanded impatiently.
“I’m counting three… no, four heartbeats,” the obstetrician pronounced, turning to face the father and mothers-to-be.
“You… didn’t mention there would be more than one.” Faith’s voice was the last thing Wesley heard before darkness closed over him.
Warnings: Tentacle!kink. Dubcon!m-preg. Established relationship. Threesome. Pregnant sex. Anal pregnant sex, probably.
This part is ~1400 words of fluff and crack!porn of the Illyria/Faith/Wesley variety.
Dedicated to
girlupnorth, also known as The Enabler.DOOM, DOMESTICATED
The Visitation
“In which universe did impregnating me seem like a reasonable idea?”
He was lying on the couch, a cold compress on his brow, his feet raised up on a couple of pillows. Illyria and Faith exchanged another one of these annoying glances.
“Well. Pregnant women get really horny, so I thought it’d be good for your libido,” said Faith.
Illyria blinked.
“Carrying my progeny is the highest possible honour. I shall accept your gratitude now.”
Wesley turned to her.
“You have my profound appreciation. That said, wouldn’t it be proper to ask me?”
“He is being sarcastic. It can’t be good for our baby,” said Faith, smiling widely and inappropriately. “Don’t get snippy, Wes, we just wanted you to feel… essential. Irreplaceable!”
For the most part, he felt really hungry.
“Explain this whole thing to me,” he asked. “And please, bring me some food.”
“Healthy, organic food,” added Faith.
“You shall make your body a worthy vessel for my progeny,” agreed Illyria.
*~*~*
Wesley strongly suspected there were no newspapers with Agony Aunts willing to answer the question of “How do you ask a God-King about her opinion on Roe v. Wade?” Besides, he was fairly sure the actual reply from the God-King in question would come in block capitals, begin with “sacrilege!” and end with spine-ripping.
When a God asks you to bear its offspring, you just say “yes”.
“Just ask Blessed Virgin Mary,” agreed Faith.
Wesley choked on his herbal, caffeine and theine-free tea.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, experimentally.
This time, it didn’t make him feel like fainting.
He thought it might be the hormones kicking in.
*~*~*
He had a number of questions. Of course, neither of the mothers had seen fit to do any research before jumping on the “impregnating Wyndham-Pryce” wagon, so he had to find the answers himself.
Question number one: how long was the pregnancy going to take?
His expanding middle on the very next day after the conception suggested that, like with many demonic and deity-related pregnancies, a usual nine-month progression was pretty much out of the question. An extensive reading suggested that the most probable time span would range from two weeks up to three months.
He suspected he might manage to survive that long.
Question number two: however will he give birth to the thing?
This one he considered for a couple of seconds before firmly deciding on a caesarean, even if he were to perform it on his own person. Not one of his natural orifices seemed fitting.
Question number three: will the baby have tentacles?
He’d probably love him, her or the creature of unspecified gender anyway, so no use pondering beforehand.
Question number four seemed quite urgent, so he put down his notepad and approached Illyria directly.
“Are you quite sure the pregnancy won’t kill me?”
She gave him a “how dare you question my judgement?” glare, so he decided he was quite safe from the progeny, if not from the God-King mother.
Question number five: should he eat anything unusual to support the pregnancy?
His research suggested that if so, he would experience unstoppable cravings, forcing him to ingest whatever sustenance the foetus required. That could mean a number of things, from footwear and plastic right down to livestock complete with bones, horns and cloven hooves.
That reading just made him hungry for chocolate ice-cream.
Only later did it occur to him that he never once questioned the triple genetic origin of the child. That probably said volumes about both his line of work and the relationship he was in.
He went to bed quite early, feeling surprisingly tired. Illyria joined him soon after, while Faith went out to slay a couple of vampires before sleep.
She woke him up later at night when she crawled into bed with them.
“You look even bigger than when I left,” she murmured, settling down next to him.
“Words can hurt, you know-“ he started, only to stop abruptly.
“What?” Faith whispered loudly.
“Not as much as a kick in the liver from inside your stomach, though,” he finished.
*~*~*
By morning, the kicks were quite perceptible, and Illyria and Faith took turns feeling the movements inside him. He envied them – after the initial sense of wonderment, the football game going on inside him started to grate. He would have liked a couple of hours of sleep, uninterrupted by the acrobatics that kept making him fearful for his intestines.
“I sincerely doubt you can feel the kicks down there, Faith,” he said, when the Slayer’s hand suddenly moved down, straight into his boxers. “If you could, my shrieks of pain would probably have already woken up the neighbourhood.”
Faith giggled.
“Is this pregnancy wood?”
She took his hand and placed it under her nightshirt.
“Not really, Faith, it’s just my natural reaction to the proximity of two very beautiful women,” he replied, moving his fingers through her pubic hair slowly. “I think the real question is, is it my pregnancy that makes you wet?”
She laughed. Illyria tugged at his boxers, and he took them off obediently if with some difficulty.
“More like your natural reaction,” Faith murmured, stroking his stomach with one hand, and his cock with the other. “Come here,” she added, raising one of her legs and placing it on his hip.
His stomach made it awkward, but Faith didn’t seem to mind. She guided him inside and started moving, reminding him just how incredible her muscle control was.
Illyria’s hands held and stroked his back and neck, and it didn’t take long before he came with a small cry. Faith kissed him on the lips, moved away, and stood up on the bed.
“My turn in the middle,” she said, and he moved to the side, letting her squeeze between him and Illyria.
Before long, it was him stroking Faith’s back and buttocks and kissing her nape, while Illyria and her finger-fucked each other, slowly and lazily, until they both came.
Afterwards, they brought him breakfast to bed. He was almost hoping for the three months.
*~*~*
Finding a demon ob-gyn was easier than he would have expected. A couple of calls and they had an emergency appointment for eight pm. He felt anxious all day, although thankfully the kicking stopped sometime after noon.
He started eating at breakfast and didn’t exactly stop until he actually got into the car. Faith kept looking at his paunch and laughing.
On top of that, the heartburn was killing him.
He didn’t like it when they were driving. Illyria didn’t seem to grasp the concept of avoiding collisions and expected everyone to get out off her way. Faith was a good driver most of the time, but every once in a while something would distract her, and only her Slayer reflexes had saved them from a couple of close calls. Still, he didn’t really cherish the thought of trying to fit himself behind the wheel.
Faith took the keys.
“Drive safe, please,” he said, sitting in the back. “There’s a baby on board.”
Faith laughed so hard she almost fell out of the car. He kept his eyes closed all the way.
*~*~*
The obstetrician took one look at Wesley and smiled widely, baring her two rows of teeth.
“It’s really nice to see an equal opportunity deific pregnancy! How’s the impromptu uterus agreeing with you, Mr… Pryce?”
“Wyndham-Pryce, and these are the mothers, Illyria and Faith Lehane. Pleasure to meet you, and as to the uterus, you tell me.”
“If you’d just follow me to the exam room.”
Twenty minutes of indignity later, the doctor was covering his stomach with cold gel and asking about the “surrounding situation”.
“Just tell me if I’m out of line, but let me get this straight – are you the surrogate for these two ladies?”
He ground his teeth. Illyria answered.
“Both man and Slayer are my mates,” she explained. “I decided mixing our essence and seed to create new life was appropriate at this time.”
“That’s so amazing!” the doctor exclaimed, moving the ultrasound around. Wesley kept his gaze fixed on the screen. There were many limbs. One of them seemed to be waving at him.
“Tentacles it is, I guess,” he sighed.
“Tell me what you see!” Faith demanded impatiently.
“I’m counting three… no, four heartbeats,” the obstetrician pronounced, turning to face the father and mothers-to-be.
“You… didn’t mention there would be more than one.” Faith’s voice was the last thing Wesley heard before darkness closed over him.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-11 03:49 am (UTC)craving and sex and faith in her general and all encompassing badassery! the demon ob/gyn!
i love you!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 10:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-11 08:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 10:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 01:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-11 09:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 10:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-27 01:36 pm (UTC)Am very proud of you for writing pregnant sex.
There should be more fics with pregnant sex.He’d probably love him, her or the creature of unspecified gender anyway, so no use pondering beforehand.
Awww. ♥
Also, four blue babies yay xD
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-27 01:38 pm (UTC)You know me, what's the point of writing sex if it's not "on the period/anal/standing up/while pregnant/with special appendages" :>
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-11 10:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 10:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 11:31 am (UTC)Wizyta u lekarza i końcowa scena = BRILLIANT. XDDD
His research suggested that if so, he would experience unstoppable cravings, forcing him to ingest whatever sustenance the foetus required. That could mean a number of things, from footwear and plastic right down to livestock complete with bones, horns and cloven hooves.
LOOOL XDDD
Only later did it occur to him that he never once questioned the triple genetic origin of the child. That probably said volumes about both his line of work and the relationship he was in.
Jakie kochane :D
“Just tell me if I’m out of line, but let me get this straight – are you the surrogate for these two ladies?”
Ten tekst chyba wygrał... XDDD
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-25 01:16 pm (UTC)Aaaaa! XD
“I’m counting three… no, four heartbeats,” the obstetrician pronounced, turning to face the father and mothers-to-be.
“You… didn’t mention there would be more than one.”
Lol XDDD
Also, the demon ob-gyn and equal opportunity deific pregnancy are the best. And Wes and his questions 'cause of course, Wes would do the research.
Love this.