u/Old_Brother_8891

I need a baby. I need a family. I need a partner. I need a ring on my finger. I need my seed in her womb. I need my sperm in her egg. I need to ignite the spark of life inside her.

I need to say my vows to her. I need to be together with her during her pregnancy. I need to take care of her morning sickness. I need to take care of her cravings. I need to touch and kiss her swelling belly. I need to assure her that she still looks beautiful and sexy to me. I need to make sure that she feels loved and protected.

I need to be next to her when her water breaks. I need to hold her hand as our baby starts crowning. I need to embrace our newborn in my arms and kiss them lovingly as they take their first breath and cry for the first time. I need to stay up all night long taking care of our child so that my wife could sleep. I need to completely devote myself to my family.

I need all of this so desperately…

She told us out of the blue during our daily meeting and we all congratulated her and wished her an easy pregnancy.

I’ve been having such an intense desire to start a family already, and this announcement has only served to amplify it further. I need to have a baby desperately right now. I need a loving partner whom to adore and worship. One who is completely willing to let me slide a ring onto her finger. One who is not afraid of accepting my potent seed deep inside her fertile womb. One who is eager for my sperm to penetrate and fertilize her egg which her ovaries have just released. One who wants me to ignite the spark of life inside her with all her heart.

I need to experience us saying our vows to each other. I need to experience the difficult moments of her pregnancy. I need to take care of her when she experiences morning sickness. I need to cook nutritious meals for her to satisfy her cravings. I need to worship her swelling belly. I need to tell her that she looks even more beautiful and sexier to me now that her body has changed so much. I need to make sure that she feels loved and protected.

I can’t wait to be next to her when her water breaks. I can’t wait to hold her hand and tell her that everything would be fine as our baby starts crowning. I can’t wait to welcome our newborn child into my arms and kiss them lovingly as they take their first breath. I can’t wait to listen to their first cries which would sound like music to my ears. I can’t wait to start changing their diapers as soon as we’re back home. I can’t wait to stay up all night long while our precious bundle of joy is wailing so that my wife could sleep soundly. I can’t wait to completely devote myself to my family and to be together with my spouse until death parts us.

I’ve always had a high sex drive since my teens. Which means that I ended up watching a whole lot of porn back then. My breeding kink began as an obsession with bareback sex, which was featured in most porn videos. Before I knew it, I discovered the creampie genre, which became my next obsession. This made my sexual appetite even stronger, and I started looking out for kinky stuff because regular porn didn’t do it for me anymore. One of these kinks was impregnation, which I discovered for the first time in stories posted on various kinds of fetish blogs approximately fifteen years ago. It eventually grew to be my most significant kink. Only the part with the woman giving birth and us two having to raise the kids seemed revolting to me at the time. However, even that changed at some point: I started craving to see hugely swollen pregnant bellies. They became such a turn-on for me. My kink later evolved to include the actual birth of the children a few years ago, as well as raising them in the context of a family. I think that it should be described more accurately as a “desire” or “urge” instead of “kink” or “fetish”.

Before I developed this desire, I was extremely scared of unprotected sex. However, now the very thought of putting a condom on my cock feels like such a turn-off to me. Using any kind of protection seems like a revolt against natural order. I used to be insistent on pulling out but now anything else apart from pumping my partner’s womb full of my seed seems wrong to me. I used not to want kids at all but now I feel an intense craving to become a father.

I look kinda lean and boyish. In contrast to that, I always see myself as a big, burly man in my fantasies when I’m horny. One who looks strong and virile, masculine and dependable. Someone who is fully capable of performing intense physical labor. Someone who seems like husband and father material.

I used to be actively against marriage when I was a teen. However, with the progression of my kink into a want and need, I started feeling like the kind of man which I described above is naturally inclined to wear a wedding ring on his finger. He’s supposed to be a loving husband and doting father of his children. A man who is fully devoted to taking care of his family. That’s what I always see myself being like in my daydreams now.

Does anyone else feel like this?

I need to get married as soon as possible. I need to raise a huge family together with my wife. I need to live together with her in our big house. I need to work from dawn to dusk every day to prepare all of the rooms for the arrival of our children. I need to become strong and put on muscle because of the intense physical work so that I’d be better prepared to take care of our kids.

I need to be a breeding stud. Someone in the prime of their life. Someone who is capable of blessing their wife’s womb with as many babies as she wants. I need to be manly and dependable, strong and resilient. Someone who most people would consider to be husband and father material.

I need to make love to my wife every single day. I need to be just as horny and needy as her, getting hard for her so easily. I need to be someone who isn’t scared to do it without protection. I need to be someone who appreciates flooding a fertile womb with their seed. I need to be someone who isn’t afraid to create a future together with her. I’d happily let her milk my balls empty during her ovulation day. I’d gladly hold her hand as my potent swimmers make their way towards her fertile egg, eager to fuse with it. I know that one of them will eventually pierce it, igniting the spark of life inside her womb.

I’d happily work hard to provide for our family and to adapt our house for our necessities without complaining at all. I’d make sure to take care of all of her needs. I’d worship her swelling belly, her growing breasts, her widening hips, her thickening butt and thighs. I’d adore her pregnant body so much. I’d give her a full body massage every single day. I’d cater to every single one of her cravings. I’d gladly endure her mood swings and hormonal instability. I’d make sure to be next to her when she feels nauseous because of morning sickness, trying to calm her down and make her feel better.

Once her water breaks, I’d be there to drive her to the hospital. When the contractions begin, I’d be next to her, holding her hand and telling her that everything would be fine. I want her to feel comfortable with yelling at me that she’s like that because of me. I’d just smile gently and tell her that I love her. She could even slap me or scratch my skin with her nails if she feels like that would help her calm down. I’d just kiss her lovingly and press my body closer to hers as our baby starts crowning. After a while, our daughter would slide into my arms safely as we welcome her into the world. I’d be absolutely in awe as I see her for the first time and hear her first cries. Our beloved little girl who totally looks like my wife!

We’d bring our newborn home and I’d immediately start taking care of her so that my wife could rest. I’d stay awake all night long if she’s crying loudly, trying to calm her down as my wife sleeps. I’d happily change her diapers without making any faces. I’d take her to the doctor when she’s sick. I’d share the responsibility for all of the unpleasant parts of parenthood together with my wife, trying to shift most of the weight onto my shoulders. I’d listen to her calmly and carefully when she’s venting because she’s stressed and burnt out. I’d try to address all of her grievances as quickly as I can. I’d make sure that raising our child would be as easy for us as possible. We’d already have rings on our fingers by that point, so it would just be me fulfilling my commitments towards my wife: the vows which I made on the altar.

Very soon our house would fill up with more and more little girls. Chaos would ensue initially as they grow into toddlers and preschoolers. We’d have to deal with things like stubbornness and temper tantrums. Our kids would sometimes do things like throwing their food everywhere and turning the whole house into a mess in general. However, we’d learn to deal with such situations quickly, and we’d adapt our parenting strategy when confronted with the challenges. Our ever-growing family would never make us sad or angry again. It would only bring happiness to us because we’d be prepared to deal with the problems.

At some point, after a long pause because of us being busy raising our children, my wife would feel the need to be fucked properly. My animalistic breeder instincts would notice that and awaken, making me instantly switch into brute mode. I’d flip her onto her back and lay my big, burly body on top of her. I’d wrap my large, rough hand around her neck and I’d squeeze it lovingly. I’d start thrusting my dad cock in and out of her in abandon, without any grace or gentleness, making sure to smash my tip against her cervix every time. Eventually, my dad balls would begin pulsating as my thick, white seed starts flooding every crevice within her fertile womb. Maybe this time we’d have a son?

I have never been tempted so much by a woman before. She approached me out of nowhere and began talking to me. She was tall and thin, with long legs and big breasts, toned and fit, young and sexy. I won’t even mention her beautiful flowing hair and gorgeous face. And she had the audacity to directly ask me out without even knowing anything about me! Me, a man probably double her age who does not fit any definition of “attractive“. A man who doesn’t stand out with anything in the crowd. A man who wears the ring of commitment on his finger… Nah, I didn’t care that this is a one-in-a-billion event with about the same probability of happening as the world imploding onto itself. There was simply no way I could accept her advances and betray the trust of my beloved spouse. It was impossible for me to destroy the heart of the person with whom I have lived together and built a shared purpose for so many years. That’s why I did the only morally acceptable thing which was to be expected of me. I showed her the ring on my finger, smiled innocently and shook my head negatively. I could clearly observe the sadness on her face as she bowed her head down in honest disappointment, turned around and walked away.

I stood like I was thunderstruck for a while, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. However, when I regained my senses, I realized that I had done the right thing. When I got home in the evening, I directly told my wife about my bizarre experience. She seemed absolutely shocked by the absurdity of the situation but she told me that my vows mandated such a response from me, and that she wouldn’t have tolerated any other kind of reaction. She also seemed a bit… excited about what had happened, if I could judge about that by the way her face had suddenly become flushed and the way she had started breathing heavily.

I asked her if she felt okay and she confessed that my story turned her on. She was tremendously aroused by the fact that someone else who is much more attractive and desirable was attracted to me but that I had chosen to stay with her instead. What she didn’t know was that I still find her desirable even after all those years of marriage, and that the young woman who I met earlier during the day meant nothing to me emotionally. I still love my wife with all my heart, and every bit of her body is just as arousing to me as the day we met. Even after all of the postpartum changes to her body caused by the births of our eight kids. She didn’t realize that I absolutely adore her stretch marks, her saggy breasts with her huge, dark nipples, her wide motherly hips, her thick thighs and butt which are covered with cellulite. She had no idea that she looks like a fertility goddess. She couldn’t fathom that she’s the epitome of femininity and sexiness. She was oblivious to the fact that no other woman could possibly replace her.

She was so horny for me that she directly grabbed me and started dragging me towards the bedroom. When we arrived there, she demanded that I pin her down and fuck her like an animal. She laid on the bed and spread her legs, demonstrating with two fingers where I should enter her. And I obliged, lying on top of her and guiding my manhood eagerly into her breeding hole. I loved how wet she was for me: she was practically gushing with arousal. She started moaning in sync with each one of my thrusts, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around my back. I kept my pace steady and stable until she told me that she was ovulating.

That’s when I lost control over myself and started pounding her desperately and violently. My only goal in that moment was to conceive our ninth baby. I was feeling absolutely ready to go through all of the difficulties associated with parenthood again in that moment. I was willing to start changing diapers again, to take the baby to the doctor when it’s necessary, to bathe them, to feed them when they’re older, and to endure the temper tantrums and the sleepless nights during their first months. In other words, to devote myself towards being a great father of our beloved new child.

My wife must have noticed what was going through my head, and that I was getting closer and closer because she tightened the grip of her arms and legs on my back and uttered the following few precious words:

“I love you.”

Don’t give me a choice. Pursue me relentlessly and aggressively. Come to me and claim me as yours. Defy the social order and customs and slide a ring onto my finger. Tell me that we’re going to get married as soon as possible. Tell me that we’re going to raise a huge family together. Make me go live together with you in your big house. Force me to work from dawn to dusk every day to prepare all of the rooms for the arrival of our children. Watch me as I become strong and put on muscle because of the intense physical work.

I know that you need a breeding stud. Someone in the prime of their life. Someone who is capable of blessing your womb with as many babies as you want. I know that you need a manly, dependable man in spite of your dominance. Someone who is stronger and more resilient than you. Someone who most people would consider as husband and father material. Yet someone who is still extremely submissive and controllable. Someone you could easily mold into your ideal for a man. I’m completely ready and willing to become that person for you.

You need someone you could ride every single day. Someone who is just as horny and needy as you are and who would get hard for you so easily. Someone who isn’t scared to do it without protection. Someone who appreciates flooding a fertile womb with their seed. Someone who isn’t afraid to create a future together with you. You’ve already found that someone. I’d happily let you milk my balls empty during your ovulation day. I’d gladly hold your hand as my potent swimmers make their way towards your fertile egg, eager to fuse with it. I know that one of them will eventually pierce it, igniting the spark of life inside your womb.

I’d happily submit to your whims. I’d work hard to provide for our family and to adapt our house for our necessities without complaining at all. I’d make sure to take care of all of your needs. I’d worship your swelling belly, your growing breasts, your widening hips, your thickening butt and thighs. I’d adore your pregnant body so much. I’d give you a full body massage every single day. I’d cater to every single one of your cravings. I’d gladly endure your mood swings and hormonal instability. I’d make sure to be next to you when you feel nauseous because of morning sickness, trying to calm you down and make you feel better.

Once your water breaks, I’d be there to drive to the hospital. When the contractions begin, I’d be next to you, holding your hand and telling you that everything would be fine. I want you to free comfortable with yelling at me that you’re like that because of me. I’d just smile gently and tell you that I love you. You could even slap me or scratch my skin with your nails if you feel like that would help you calm down. I’d kiss you lovingly and press my body closer to yours as our baby starts crowning. After a while, she’d slide into my arms safely as we welcome her into the world. I’d be absolutely in awe as I see her for the first time and hear her first cries. Our beloved daughter who totally looks like you!

We’d bring our little girl home and I’d immediately start taking care of her so that you could rest. I’d stay awake all night long if she’s crying loudly, trying to calm her down as you sleep. I’d happily change her diapers without making any faces. I’d take her to the doctor when she’s sick. I’d share the responsibility for all of the unpleasant parts of parenthood together with you, trying to shift most of the weight onto my shoulders. I’d listen to you calmly and carefully when you’re venting because you’re stressed and burnt out. I’d try to address all of your grievances as quickly as I can. I’d make sure that raising our child would be as easy for you as possible. We’d already have rings on our fingers by that point, so it would just be me fulfilling my commitments towards you: the vows which I made on the altar.

Very soon our house would get filled up with more and more little girls. Chaos would ensue initially as they grow into toddlers and preschoolers. We’d have to deal with things like stubbornness and temper tantrums. Our kids would sometimes do things like throwing their food everywhere and turning the whole house into a mess in general. However, we’d learn to deal with such situations quickly, and we’d adapt our parenting strategy when confronted with the challenges. Our ever-growing family would never make us sad or angry again. It would only bring happiness to us because we’d be prepared to deal with the problems. Of course, you’d still be at the helm, and I’d just be following your orders. I fully trust your capability and instinct to lead, so I’d feel rightly at my place as your subservient husband.

However, at some point, you’d feel the need to be fucked properly by someone dominant and assertive. I do have such a side but I rarely manifest it. You’d subconsciously find the correct cues and signs to give to my body that our roles have been exchanged as we’re making out, desperately trying to summon that side. My animalistic breeder instincts would notice them and awaken, making me instantly switch into brute mode. I’d flip you onto your back and lay my big, burly body on top of you. I’d wrap my large, rough hand around your neck and I’d squeeze it lovingly. I’d start thrusting my dad cock in and out of you in abandon, without any grace or gentleness, making sure to smash my tip against your cervix every time. Eventually, my dad balls would begin pulsating as my thick, white seed starts flooding every crevice within your womb. Maybe this time we’d have a son?

Only time would show if we’d get to welcome a boy into our lives. However, this experience would teach me that you’re willing to be dominated, at least in bed. The contrast between your strong grip on our family and your apparent ability to submit to me sometimes, as well as the contrast between my masculine physique and my general submissiveness, would serve to add spice to our relationship. This healthy balance between our personalities and power dynamics would make our bond even stronger. It would make two of us naturally complement and need each other in order to thrive and be fulfilled. It would keep the spark between us ignited even after our bodies become less capable of doing the deed. It would help us remain actively invested in each other even at the stage when spouses usually start losing interest in each other. It would persevere through the years of marriage until we grow old together. It would help us remain with each other until death parts us.

Meeting. Sexuality. Animalistic urges. No control. Bodies intertwined. Me inside you. Deep. No protection. Man. Swollen balls. Seed. Thick and white. Potent swimmers. Woman. Ovaries. Ovulation. Egg. Ripe and ready. Fertilization. Creative spark. Conception. Reproduction. New life. Two lines. Twins. Girl and boy. Wedding ring. Vows. Marriage. House. Family.

Hormones. Mood changes. Morning sickness. Cravings. Care and love. Transformation. Femininity. Swollen belly. Gentle touches and loving kisses. Wide hips. Huge boobs. Big, dark nipples. Licking and sucking. Milk. Thick thighs and butt. Massages. Beauty. Pregnancy.

Growth. Taller. Heavier. Masculinity. Big muscles. Wide chest. Enormous arms. Big, rough, calloused hands. Thick fingers. Legs like tree trunks. Huge feet. Rough and calloused. Gentle giant. Hairy chest, arms and legs. Furry back and butt. Thick dark beard. Strong body odor. Musky smell. Deep, gravelly voice. Provider and protector. Fatherhood.

Postpartum. More changes. Flabby belly covered with stretch marks. Saggy breasts. Thighs and butt covered with cellulite. Worship and awe. Fertility goddess. Sexiness and validation. Love and support. Motherhood.

No condoms. No birth control. Fertility. Virility. More babies. Bigger house. Lots of rooms. Mom and dad. Infants, toddlers, preschoolers, school children and teenagers. Difficulties and challenges. No time. Care and nurture. Mutual support. Familial bonds.

Age. Wrinkles. Rough skin. Grey hair. Wife and husband. Warmth and happiness. Undying love.

Birth rates have dwindled so much in my country that the government has started forcing people to have children. Female fertility and male virility have been declining worldwide, as well as the willingness of people to have kids, so naturally, everyone who has motile sperm or healthy eggs is eligible for the breeding draft. They are supposed to be conscripted into the breeder army, whose purpose is to create huge families in order to produce the next generation of humans. Nobody of them is given any kind of choice in the decisions related to this. If their medical exams show that they’re healthy and have no history of genetic or hereditary disorders, their future is basically set in stone. They are supposed to have as many children as possible for the benefit of society. If they refuse to do so, they get brainwashed until they agree.

I was tested and my sperm concentration and motility were way above the average, so naturally, there was no way I could object to becoming a breeder despite my displeasure at the idea of marrying or having children. They didn’t even do any other exams on me. Instead, a reproductive inspector was directly assigned to me by the state, and I understood that she was supposed to be together with me for the rest of my life. She told me that I had a duty towards society, and she was there to ensure that I’d uphold it. She told me that I had to undress in front of her, and that there was no need for me to be ashamed. She wanted to see if I could get hard easily, and when I did immediately out of embarrassment, she started stroking me until I shot my semen everywhere. When she saw how thick and potent my seed was, she sighed and confessed to me that she was infertile, and that was why she took that job: she was super obsessed with seeing someone reproduce successfully.

Her first task was to discover a mate for me. Normally, this would happen without any regard for the emotional compatibility between the partners, or whether there was any chemistry between them at all. That’s exactly what happened with me: she showed me a photo of a girl that she had picked for me, who was to become my wife in a month or so. I wasn’t attracted to the girl at all but knew that there was no way for me to decline her. My inspector arranged a meeting between the two of us, who were supposed to be escorted by their respective inspectors. We did meet eventually, and my inspector shoved an engagement ring on her finger in my name. They gave us some time to visit our respective places and pack our stuff, and then they started leading us towards what was to become our family home.

We finally arrived there and I immediately noticed that the house was huge, with an enormous garden, and a lot of empty rooms. The walls were covered with anatomical descriptions of sex, fertilization and pregnancy. We were immediately assigned tasks to do: I was to start renovating the spare rooms in the house, which were supposed to become children’s rooms once the little ones started coming in. My fiancée’s job was to start cleaning the house, and to cook dinner for us after that. There was a single catch, though: my inspector removed my shirt and socks and told me that I had to work like that. In turn, her inspector handed her something which looked like a maternity dress and told her that she had to be barefoot as well. We reluctantly agreed since we weren’t in a position to argue about anything, really.

We also got our first hormonal injections that evening. The hormones were somehow supposed to prepare our bodies with the conception, gestation and raising of children. It was interesting that I was given them as well in addition to my fiancée. My muscles felt a bit tense and stiff for a while after the injection but the symptoms subsided eventually. They told us that we would be given a daily dose of them until our wedding but it was unclear if we would be treated with anything else after that. When both of us were feeling better already, we went to what was supposed to be our marital bed. Our inspectors made sure that we kissed each other good night and fell asleep tightly embraced together.

I woke up on the next day with an excruciating pain all over my body. I told my inspector about that but she dismissed my pain as something normal that was caused by the hormones, which left me extremely embittered. However, there’s no way for me to protest against taking them. After the pain went away, I went to the bathroom for my morning routine and noticed that my body looked somewhat different. It seemed that I had gained some weight but it looked to be in muscle instead of fat. It also seemed to me that I had somehow grown taller, and my chest definitely looked wider than yesterday. I was surprised and shocked but I decided that I should be happy about these developments instead of being worried about them.

To be continued…

(Continuation from https://www.reddit.com/r/impregnation/s/ThKDwHzoSX)

During the next few days, my workload increased tenfold. My fiancée made me constantly move heavy things around and do physically intense work in general. All of my muscles would be sore after I finished working late in the evening. Thankfully, she’d give me a massage in our bed with oils which smelled really nice. She’d undress me fully before that, and she’d progressively take her clothes off as she rubbed every inch of my skin and every muscle in my body. She’d end up pressing all of her skin against mine, our genitalia sliding gently against each other. However, we didn’t do anything more serious than that.

She made me quit my job, which wasn’t a big surprise to anyone involved since I hadn’t been showing up for a while anyway. Actually, it’s a mystery that I hadn’t been fired already. She told me that my new job was to prepare our house for the huge family that we were going to create. She told me that she had enough wealth for me not to have to work outside of our home ever again. Not that she’d ever allow this, in fact. She told me that we’d only get busier and busier as the little ones would start arriving. As she said that, I knew that my future with her would be tough and full of toil and surprises.

She made me wear even fewer clothes: she made me stop wearing my pants and socks in addition to my shirt. I was now going around the house only wearing boxers and slippers while doing all of the renovation work. At some point, she even forbade the slippers, telling me that my bare feet looked sexy, especially when they were covered with dirt after a long day of work. She seemed to revel in watching my extremely masculine form move around the house while doing intense physical labor. I’m certain that I even saw her rubbing herself at the sight at least once. She seemed to be getting freakier and freakier since then, sometimes undressing herself fully in front of me while I was working. This way usually followed by intense moans as she fucked herself using her fingers.

It was an arrangement which was definitely worth it for her since I had more and more to show with every passing day. My chest had ballooned up into a barrel, covered with thick and strong pecs. The stubble over them had turned into a thick mat of black hairs. It had spread down all over my six-pack abs and enormous package. My huge, muscular thighs and calves were hairy even before but now my legs were fully covered all the way down to my feet. Hair had appeared all over my thick, manly arms as well, up to the backs of my hands. Even places like my back and butt weren’t spared: being completely hairless and smooth before I met her, they were now sprouting thick wads of dark hair all over them.

But my body becoming hairier and hairier was far from the only thing that kept changing on it. My hands and feet had somehow gotten even bigger and thicker. They were also even rougher, drier and calloused all over because of the intense physical work. Thick veins were now bulging all over my skin, pushed to the front by my enormous muscles. My face had lost all of its cuteness and innocence, which was replaced by an almost grotesque manly grin. My voice had dropped down the range of a few octaves, losing all of its boyishness, which was to be replaced by a profound, vibrating basso. My body odor had turned especially sweaty and musky, and had intensified to the point that it was impossible to remove it even by showering.

At some point, it was finally time for our wedding. We didn’t waste a lot of time preparing for it since it was supposed to be a small event anyway. As I walked towards the altar, I suddenly felt more mature in a way which I had never experienced before. I approached my wife-to-be and said my vows to her with utmost certainty. They felt binding on a very primal level: I knew that I was *meant* to be with her in my bones, that our genes had predetermined for us to be together. As my wedding ring was being slid onto my finger, I sensed that I had been waiting all of my life for it to go there, and I even wondered how I had spent so many years not wearing it. As I kissed her, I knew that our bond was now sealed, and that we would be wearing those rings until death parted us.

I suddenly noticed that my shirt felt really tight. My thick muscles were pressing against its seams, threatening to destroy them. The situation in my pants wasn’t better: my muscular legs had filled them to the brim. At some point, it had become so bad that buttons had started flying off my shirt because of my huge swelling pecs, followed by its seams getting torn by my massive growing arms. The fly of my pants had unzipped itself and the button had flown off them, caused by my enormously swollen package. My pants themselves were losing the battle against my legs, being already torn in multiple places. Even my shoes were constrained immensely by my growing feet pressing against them, threatening to turn them into pieces.

To be continued…

I don’t feel ready to become a father IRL. I’m not even certain that I actually want to have children at all. The prospect of raising kids in this economy and world makes me extremely anxious about it. Moreover, it’s not like I have a partner who is willing to raise them together with me, so it’s something that won’t be happening to me anytime soon.

However, I feel the craving to breed so strongly on the inside. I feel the need to fill the womb of an ovulating woman with my seed. To stay together with her as it takes. To watch her belly swell with the fruit of our lovemaking. To marry her and pledge my vows to her for life. To welcome our beloved child into the world. To grow our family with many more of them. To go through all of the challenges and difficulties with raising them and staying together as a married couple. To be happy and content with what we have created together.

She knew that I was the one the moment she set her eyes on me. Her magical instincts somehow knew that my body and mind were malleable enough to be transformed from the scrawny and lanky physique which I had back then into the big, burly man I am now. Just the type of man that she needed. The type of man she couldn’t discover during her relentless search for a suitor. A husband who would be her equal in strength and endurance but would also obey every single one of her orders. A masculine and dependable yet submissive and controllable breeding stud. She wasn’t willing to budge from these requirements, which led her to the decision to craft and mold somebody into that image herself.

She was strong enough to directly pull me aside and slide an engagement ring onto my finger before she had said even a single word to me. She pressed her lips to my ear, whispering into it that I only have half an hour to pack my stuff and go to live with her, and that our wedding is already arranged, and is due in a month. She then looked into my eyes aggressively and asked me if there is anything unclear with a dominant tone. Anyone sane would have protested against that, or would have called the police, or would have simply ran away. Not me, though: her words seemed like instructions which I was naturally supposed to follow. Accordingly, I trusted her fully and submitted to her orders completely, leading her to my place. At that moment, I already knew that there is no way for me to ever argue with or say “no” to my fiancée and wife-to-be.

Once I had packed everything, she escorted me on the way to her house. It was huge, with an enormous garden, and a lot of empty rooms. The walls were covered with anatomical descriptions of sex, fertilization and pregnancy, which struck me as weird and eccentric. I thought that she’s some kind of fertility doctor who’s way too obsessed with their profession, or, more probably, simply a fetishist, which didn’t cause even a bit of concern in my mind. As soon as I had unpacked my stuff, she started preparing a meal for us and commanded me to sit to eat with her after she was done. The food tasted amazingly: it was way more delicious than any meal I’ve had in my life before that moment, and yet there was something off about it which I couldn’t pinpoint. We went later to what was supposed to be our marital bed once we had tied the knot, followed by her kissing me good night and both of us falling asleep almost immediately, tired from our adventures during the day.

When I woke up, everything was hurting absolutely everywhere on my body. I told her about that but she dismissed my pain as something normal which was to be expected, which left me confused and embittered. After the pain went away, I went to the bathroom for my morning routine and noticed that my body looked somewhat different. It seemed that I had gained some weight but it looked to be muscle instead of fat. I was surprised and shocked but I decided that I should be happy about these developments instead of being worried about them. She assigned several tasks to me for the day, which mainly consisted of moving construction equipment for renovation of the numerous rooms in the house. She never explained why I had to do all of this work, leaving me curious and perplexed about it.

Over the few next days, I kept waking with the same excruciating pain all over body. It would subside after a while but the discomfort always made me scream and wail, sometimes waking my fiancée and making her scoff at me. It started to seem to me that I had somehow grown taller, and I kept gaining more and more weight. My muscles also felt tenser and bulkier. I told myself that was probably caused by the intense physical labor which I was performing all day long: moving furniture, drilling holes, painting rooms - things like that. She was making sure to cook nutritious meals for me every day to provide me with enough energy for these tasks. I would wolf them down with great gusto, licking the plate clean every single time.

She started being more touchy-feely with me as time went by. She ordered me to start going shirtless around the house at some point. I was certain that was because she wanted to observe my growing and developing pecs and abs while I was working, as well as my huge arms. They were thickening with muscle and were slowly inching towards becoming larger than what my legs looked like when I moved in with her. My legs, for comparison, had bulked up so much that they had started resembling tree trunks. She never missed the opportunity to brush her hand against my chest and stomach and to spank my butt softly while smiling coyly at me. Naturally, that had a certain effect on the bulge in my pants, which had already grown significantly even in its flaccid state.

At some point, in addition to the effect on my height, weight, and muscle mass, I started noticing that the proportions of various parts of my body had started changing as well. My hands were definitely larger, as well as my fingers, which had become thick like sausages. My feet had become bigger as well, which made me worry that there wouldn’t be any shoes which would fit them soon if they kept growing like that. I also noticed that my cock had reached the gargantuan size of a water bottle, only to be matched by balls looking like a pair of grapefruits underneath it. There were other changes as well, such as my skin seeming rougher and more leathery to the touch, especially on my hands and soles. I attributed this to the chemicals to which I was exposed during the renovation work. It also seemed that my beard had grown longer, thicker and darker, and that thin black stubble had grown almost everywhere over my body.

To be continued…

I want to grow and grow until I become the tallest man in the world. I want to put on the corresponding weight to match my height, all of it in pure muscle. I don’t want my muscles to be only for show - I want to actually be strong. I want to be able to perform heavy physical labor all day long. I want to have arms bigger than what my legs currently look like and legs the size of tree trunks. I want to have feet larger than the largest shoes and hands bigger than the biggest gloves, with fingers thick like sausages. I want to see thick, black body hair grow all over my masculine physique, with my skin barely visible underneath it. I wish even places like my back and butt would be fully covered with body hair. I want to watch my beard grow into a thick dark wall of hairs, reaching all the way up to my chest. I want my cock to grow to the gargantuan size of a water bottle, only to be matched by balls looking like a pair of grapefruits underneath it.

I always imagine my hairline slowly receding and lumps of my hair falling off until my scalp becomes completely bare and smooth. I want to become entirely bald, without even a single hair remaining on my head. I want my hairy, burly body to be in stark contrast with my smooth, shiny head. I wish my strong muscles would become covered with a soft but thick layer of body fat, making me look like I’m sporting a dad bod with my protruding pot belly. I want that my huge hands and feet would become rough and calloused everywhere because of the intense physical work which I perform all day long. I want to look more and more like a middle-aged man with every passing day, with even my forehead becoming fully covered with wrinkles. I want my boyishness and childlike features completely gone, only to be replaced with a manifestation of pure masculinity and the signs of aging.

I want to turn into the real MAN I’m meant to be. A man who looks like he’s already fathered several children. A man who is so wild that he can only be tamed by a wedding ring on his finger. A man who is fully in touch with his own masculinity and completely devoted to his family.

I don’t understand the way my body works and why it is so disconnected from the intentions of my mind.

I desperately want to overcome and stay above the temptations of the flesh, yet my sex drive is constantly through the roof and always focused on the idea of impregnating someone. I have the utmost desire to maintain decency, yet my urge to strip all of my clothes and whip out my baby maker in order to knock up a woman is unbearable. I don’t think what’s between a man’s legs is important at all… yet what’s between mine always seems to be eager to fill the place intended by nature so that humanity would continue as a species.

I firmly believe that I should practice safe sex… yet the thought of sliding a condom onto my cock seems revolting on a very physical level, knowing that it would be impossible for me to breed my imaginary partner this way. Birth control is something necessary to reduce the risk of pregnancy, yet me or my partner being on any form of it seems to me like we’re going against natural order on an instinctual level. Instead, my body is telling me that we’re meant to be fruitful and to multiply.

Even if I get to enter a woman raw for some reason, I still know that I need to pull out so that our lives won’t get complicated… yet my animalistic instincts are urging me to go all the way in and flood her insides with my thick white seed… with the hidden hope that it’s her fertile time of the month. I’m fully aware that getting someone pregnant is a huge responsibility and preferably, something to be avoided at all costs… yet why is my body so excited at the thought of this?

I’m pretty content with my lean and boyish looks… except that I always get the urge to grow big and thick when I’m horny. To become significantly taller and heavier. To be fully covered with muscle definition. Not muscular like a bodybuilder but more like an actually strong man. A man who performs physical labor all day long. I feel the craving to have arms the size of normal people’s legs and legs like tree trunks. To have hands bigger than the biggest gloves and feet larger than the largest shoes. To have fingers which are thick like sausages. To watch thick, black body hair grow all over my formerly-smooth masculine physique until my skin is barely visible underneath it… even places like my back and butt would be fully covered. To watch my patchy beard grow into a thick dark wall of hairs, reaching all the way up to my chest. To turn into the real MAN I’m meant to be. A man who looks like he’s already fathered several children.

I normally like my full head of hair but when I’m turned on, I always imagine my hairline slowly receding and lumps of my hair falling off until my scalp becomes entirely bare and smooth, completely free of hair. Entirely bald, without even a single hair remaining on my head. My burly, hairy body being in stark contrast with my smooth, shiny head. My strong muscles now covered with a soft but thick layer of body fat, making me look like I’m sporting a dad bod with my protruding pot belly. My huge hands and feet becoming rough and calloused everywhere because of the intense physical work which I perform all day long. Looking more and more like a middle-aged man with every passing day, with even my forehead being fully covered with wrinkles now. My boyishness and childlike features completely gone, only to be replaced with a manifestation of pure masculinity and the signs of aging.

I’ve never had the desire to get married but a body like what I described is naturally inclined to wear a wedding ring on its finger. My dear wife always being there for me through all these years. I’ve also never envisioned having more than a few children in my plans for the future, yet in my fantasies she’s my personal fertility goddess, getting pregnant every time she ovulates like clockwork. As we’re unable to stay off each other, our family keeps growing steadily, the number of its members increasing every year until it becomes enormous.

That’s the future which my horny subconscious mind is painting about me while my conscious mind is trying to hold me back from acting on these impulses. As I have no idea what else to do about these, here I am, venting about them, hoping to hear your thoughts and opinions.

Thanks for reading all of this to the very end!