Pregnant centaur-

Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Irsa is the princess of the Cinrahli people, a faction in perpetual war with the centaur tribe.

Amber Foy. If you PPregnant too fast, or too suddenly, your belly tenses threateningly, anticipating delivery. Pages liked by this Page. Pregnant by dragonaustin. You turn your head to see a guard positioned right at your flank. Filed under Fpreg birth fetish labor fetish multiples pregnancy centaur forced pregnancy lactation. It takes a bit of maneuvering to squat down, your belly brushing against the cold Pregnant centaur, but you procure both of those things.

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Arlen Jones was willing to help the mystic people that dentaur in the forest kingdom. Pregnant centaur returned with wineskins and Doggie instructions parcels. It was a sign of compliance to their leader. A text message with your code has been sent to:. At once he dropped Preynant unceremoniously onto the Pregnant centaur floor. Most Relevant. She then cupped her hands and dug into the bucket of liquid. She stuck a few of her fingers inside herself to check her dilation. She stood in place for a few minutes, waiting to see if she felt another tightness. Wanna know how I got these stars? It would make us beasts, which we are not. Umbridge screamed hysterically, "Dolores Jane Umbridge!

If you move too fast, or too suddenly, your belly tenses threateningly, anticipating delivery.

  • Summary: Swift, a young horse ranch owner, has found herself impregnated by Gentleblaze: a centaur stallion who has lost his herd.
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Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Irsa is the princess of the Cinrahli people, a faction in perpetual war with the centaur tribe. Only Irsa can end this war by giving up her maidenhood to the centaur prince, Therseus, by marrying the half-man half-horse. She makes the necessary sacrifice for her people and is whisked away to the centaur capital where she discovers the carnal delights the centaurs have to offer. Read more Read less.

Product description Product Description Irsa is the princess of the Cinrahli people, a faction in perpetual war with the centaur tribe. Not Enabled. No customer reviews.

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She ran a hand down her overly-filled womb, thinking with a swell of excitement about the newest addition to the stable that was soon to arrive. Your review has been posted. To view the video, this page requires javascript to be enabled. All of the centaurs ate and drank out of large buckets, made of rough-hewn oak. Umbridge turned back from them. He didn't seem to mind, he was busy observing other things.

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If you move too fast, or too suddenly, your belly tenses threateningly, anticipating delivery. How long can you evade capture with slow delicate movements, every step threatens to break your water? You had dreams sometimes. You were surrounded by your family. Your mother would pull you into her and caress your head. Tears stung your eyes.

You pulled away from her. Yet, what stood before you was no longer your mother. It was the face of your captor, Magister Neira, and she was grinning wildly with her wine-colored lips and black eyes. Waking up in a start, you winced. Dammit, you thought. Jerking awake made everything twinge and ache.

You had laid down before bed, resting your equine half on the hay and resting your human half against the cold stone walls. Without thinking, or realizing, you reached over and caressed your belly. It was massive these days, your pelt stretched thin. Your tight, pregnant belly hung to your equine knees, and on occasion your back leg nudged against it—hard. In these past days your foals had become more and more restless in your womb. You could have sworn that they were rearranging themselves. The magister said it would be soon.

While you were a strong warrioress of the centaurs of the plains, you feared what would become of your young. Every other beast here and been marked with cruel magic that turned them savage and base. A stallion from the cell across from yours and escaped his trainers and broken through your door. The magister was afraid that the magical mark might harm her precious children—children that she would raise and enslave for an army for Xyrial. So, you became the only inhuman beast here with your mind still intact.

The night was oddly silent, the magic humming you were so used to had faded. Something must have happened to the crystal power source. Realizing that this would be your time to escape, you yank the collar off and tossed it aside. You then get up—well, you try to get up.

You pull your hind legs in and press your forelegs against the ground. Nails bite into the stone wall as you try to pull yourself up with your arms as well. You slip and crash back into the ground, landing awkwardly on your massive stomach. It was then that a tight pain rockets through it.

Old gods, that better not be what you think that is. Fighting through that thought, you manage to pull yourself up. You then slowly trot over to the door and find it unlocked. Pushing the door open you look at the doorway and then at your nearly spherical abdomen.

You had to try. So, you trot through. The apex of your belly gets stuck, but you step forward with all your might. You feel your skin scratch against the doorframe but you make it through. Another twinge of pain rocks through your belly and into your nethers. Of all times! You curse. Realizing that your window to escape had only gotten smaller, you quickly trot down the long dungeon hall. You turn your head to see a guard positioned right at your flank. You snort, amused. You had to stop moving like that.

You look over the guard and decide to take his spear and the tunic that overlays his armor. It takes a bit of maneuvering to squat down, your belly brushing against the cold floor, but you procure both of those things.

You wrestle the tunic over your breasts. The tunic then sat, tight, over your human belly. While it contained no foals, centauresses human halves had a tendency to emulate pregnancy as well. You were soft all over, now, but mostly in your round, fat-laden, belly that hung down and bounced when you trotted. Apparently, all the magisters and soldiers were dealing with the malfunction of the crystal as you were able to get up the stairs with no bother—other than your contracting womb.

You were able to slip into the kitchen and out the door there into the massive yard before a tall wall. You trotted faster towards an opening in the wall, a slit that showed you the forest beyond and your freedom.

Apparently, the doors had been magically sealed as well. As each trot connected with the ground, your belly swayed pendulously underneath you. You could deal with that later. As you reached the opening the wall another contraction ripped through you, this one you had to stop for. It took the breath out of your lungs. The foals were coming—fast. You were glad to be back. A few hours passed and dawn erupted on the horizon in a blissful array of peaches and yellows.

You heard a siren go off an hour ago and saw the silhouette of dragons taking to the sky through the holes in the trees. The contractions were coming more quickly, and you were feel the urge to bare into them.

Not yet. Another one racked you and you seized up, your hoof catching on a rock. You fall to the side, landing hard on your belly. The force of that sends the ground out from under you, and you slide down a muddy hill into cool swamp water.

There is no leverage to pull yourself up. You claw frantically at the mud, hoping to find a root. Another contraction hits you and then another. You would not give birth in this swamp. You latch onto a hard rock and pull yourself up. The water is knee high and laps against your seizing belly. The veins are obvious against it in the pale light.

You take a step forward and something snaps underneath your hoof. Your spear juts out from the water underneath you.

Cursing the gods, you kneel down enough to grab it. The swamp is long, and you spend most of the morning in it.

Every movement sends your belly swaying and shivering. Though you feel as if it is only a matter of one more wrong move before it does. You had to get to safety before that happens.

Plowing ahead, you end up in a plains field, having left the shade of the forest and the swamp. You need to be quick. Unsure that you have the stamina for it, you break into a gallop. Your belly bounces hard like a loose pack slapping against your underside. Your breasts rub against the drying fabric of your tunic, sensitive and sensual. Your chubby, human belly wiggles and wobbles, making you feel awkward and insecure. Yet, that was not what stopped you short. A sudden burst of warmth from your chest did.

You look down to see the front of your shirt soaked in what you assume is milk. At that moment you are sent to your knees in a horrible contraction. A lancing pain and a gush of warm water erupts from your nethers. The contractions roll onto you now. The first foal entered your birth canal and you let out a guttural scream as it moves down. You look up to Magister Neira, smiling wildly at you. All you need is the right moment.