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WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.

***

It was Angela, the woman who had shared a due date with May. Out of all the women who had signed up for the video shoot, they were tied for the honour of being the most overdue. Whereas May had a toned, athletic physique and short, asymmetrical hair, Angela was more classically feminine. Before she had become pregnant, she had had an hourglass figure. Now, between her wide hips and large chest, an almost impossibly enormous belly stretched her blue denim overalls tight. Her pale face, accented here and there with freckles, was beautifully framed by her long, wavy red hair. "Is she alright?" Angela asked, looking past me. I turned, my eyes again falling upon May, who lay struggling on the examination table.

May grunted and heaved herself into a semi-seated position. "Hey girl," she managed with a weary smile. "Doing great. Just trying not to pop." "Oh no - you're in labour too?" Angela asked as she rubbed her own massive middle. "Nothing I can't handle", May breathed, another bead of sweat dripping down her face. "You're having contractions?" I asked my new visitor. "Yeah, for a couple hours at least. I thought they were Braxton-Hicks, but they're getting closer together now…"

This was bad. Angela and May were not only the most overdue - their exceptionally prolonged pregnancies had given them the two biggest bellies out of anyone in the cast for the music video. Last time they had measured, their bellies had been within an inch of each other in size. They were supposed to be the stars. Losing May's belly before the shoot would be bad enough, but now Angela was labouring as well. I had been working with both women for weeks as they sailed past their shared due date. These bellies were supposed to be the highlights of the video - absolute pinnacles of pregnancy. The bellies belonged to the women, of course, but I had been watching them grow and ensuring they didn't pop for so long, I admit that I felt possessive and protective of these gloriously distended wombs. Like I was an artist who had helped cultivate these beautiful living sculptures. Without me - my expertise and effort - both women would have given birth long ago. The massive, low, round, heaving bellies that I saw before me in my examination room would be flat and flabby right now if it weren't for me. And these two women would be exhausted new mothers. When she popped, May would instantly lose her status as one of the most in-demand models in the country. I might not have gotten them pregnant, but I had kept them pregnant. Their bellies had reached this incredible size because of me. They were one day short of 43 weeks because of me.

As crazy as it sounds, in that moment, facing such an awful situation, I felt that it was all enormously unfair. The three of us were being robbed - robbed by time, by biology, by the laws of physics. My friends would be robbed of their opportunities to star in the video. The video would be robbed of its stars. And I would be robbed of these incredibly pregnant bellies. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, most spectacular bellies the world had ever seen. These living works of art were on the verge of failing. When they did, I would never again be able to hold them. There would be plenty of photos and videos immortalizing these remarkable pregnancies, but I would never again feel the pleasant weight of May's overdue womb resting in my hands. Never again trace the smooth, soft curvature of Angela's belly as it rested on her thighs, practically overflowing her lap. Never again feel May playfully push her bulging middle against me during a goodbye hug. Never again would I see how Angela's taught stomach shifted upward when an unexpected contraction hit.

"You'd better check her", May said, snapping me back to the present. I hadn't noticed that she had managed to walk to my side. I was alarmed to see her on her feet. Any exertion certainly couldn't be helping her situation. "May! You shouldn't be up. You're-" "I'm fine," she panted. "You already know what's up with me. Check on Angela." Moments ago, May had been nearly overwhelmed by the urge to push, but now, she was downplaying her situation. Maybe it was because she was concerned for Angela and wanted to put the other woman first, or maybe she just wanted to put on a brave face. Perhaps she was embarrassed that Angela had stumbled upon her in such a vulnerable state - sweaty, barely clothed, writhing on her back on the exam bed, struggling to maintain control of her own body. Perhaps standing up, hiding her discomfort, and shifting my attention toward Angela was a way for her to take back some dignity and control in the situation. May seemed to need attention more than Angela, but I wasn't going to argue. I got Angela to lay down. She unbuttoned her overalls and pulled down the front flap, then pulled up the white t-shirt beneath them, exposing a belly that I had come to know well over the last weeks. It had been two days since I had seen Angela, but it seemed that she had grown since then. I began exploring the smooth, pale dome. She was the same size as May, and like May's belly, hers was low, heavy, and showing all the tell-tale signs that she was beyond ready to pop. When her next contraction hit, I could tell that it wasn't a Braxton-Hicks. Angela was clearly in active labor, but not as far along as May. Still, if we didn't do anything, I estimated that she would probably only remain pregnant for several more hours. I gave May a quick glance, but she pointed back to Angela, apparently still thinking I should be focused on the newcomer rather than her.

*WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.*

May stayed in the pool for a while, riding out contractions as they came. By the early afternoon, we realized that she had a little less than 24 hours to go until the video shoot. That seemed like a milestone, even though we were still far from the finish line. Somehow, 24 hours felt almost doable. As she drifted in the pool, May suddenly remembered her online fans. Now that she was in real, active labor - for the final time - they would certainly want to see her. She climbed from the pool and grabbed her phone. I watched as she took several selfies and quickly posted a couple of her favourites on her socials.

"I need to get videos of some of these contractions," she said.

I asked if she needed help, but she assured me she was fine. Feeling awkward for some reason, I excused myself and went inside. May spent the next hour capturing her labor - she set up her phone and took photos and videos from different angles, showing how her belly looked both between and during surges. I could hear her through the window, sometimes narrating what was happening, sometimes vocalizing softly as a contraction hit. I left her to it, not wanting to interrupt. She knew where to find me if she needed me.

She ended up capturing plenty of great content, and her fans were, predictably, driven wild. She told them that she was in her real, final labor. That was bound to attract the attention of those who loved her belly. Once again, she was flooded with likes, comments, and messages. Some simply wished her good luck with the impending birth, while others begged her not to give in to her body's urges - they wanted her to fight against labor and stay pregnant.

After a while, she decided to livestream herself. She periodically responded to questions from her viewers.

"No, I'm not giving birth yet," I heard her say through the open window with a soft laugh as I tried to focus on paperwork. I looked out the window.

"I'm in active labor, but I'm still pregnant. And I'm not done with this pregnancy. I'll stay pregnant for as long as I can", she assured the fans of her distended, overdue belly. "I'll stay pregnant for as long as I WANT," she added, emphasizing that she, and not her body's natural urges, would decide when this ended. She patted the top of her mountainous middle possessively. "You think I would just give up and let this thing pop?"

May squinted at the screen to read another viewer's message. "Has my water broken? No, not yet", she answered. "I've been... well, I knew I needed to stay pregnant for a long time, so... I've taken some supplements to strengthen that membrane. It won't pop easily".

I thought about the question. If her water broke, it would effectively be all over. Once a woman's water breaks, that's it. There would be no way to stop the process. Besides, she wanted to stay as big and round as possible. If her waters broke, it would relieve some pressure, and her belly would shrink a bit. She needed to look her biggest and best for the video shoot the next day.

May live streamed herself through a few more contractions. I came back outside and watched from the sidelines. Each surge was powerful enough to be easily visible, even from the other side of the pool. I watched her laboring belly shift and bulge, feeling a mixture of fascination, admiration, and concern. When her livestream started, May had sounded a bit tired, but the energy of her enthusiastic fans seemed to have buoyed her spirits. I watched as another contraction took hold. May gave a mischievous grin to her phone camera as she gripped the tightening orb in her lap. The fans watching her livestream were lucky, but I was luckier - when she was done filming, it would be me who had the privilege of holding her laboring belly myself.

After a while, I heard May suddenly sound concerned. "Oof... this is a bad one..."

I watched closely as May's belly warped more dramatically than I had seen before. It reminded me of how Monica's belly had looked near the end - shortly before she finally popped. She wasn't quite as bad as Monica had been, but she was suddenly getting close. I was shocked. I knew she was in an advanced stage of labour, but her contractions had backed off for a while, reducing in frequency since her swim in the pool. Now, suddenly, things had dramatically picked up again.

"I have to go," May said as she hurriedly ended the live stream.

I rushed to May's side as she staggered to her feet unsteadily. There, beside the pool, she threw her arms around me and leaned against me for support. For a moment, neither of us said anything. She was still contracting, and I felt how hard her belly was as she pressed it against me. In spite of all my massaging earlier and her time in the pool, her labor was continuing to progress. We had slowed her womb's work for a while, but it was continuing to inch her toward birth, and it had just redoubled its efforts. I was shocked by how fierce this surge was.

As if reading my mind, May murmured "This is the worst one yet. I feel like I need to push". She was right - this was the kind of contraction that usually happened in the very final phase of labour. She winced as the contraction strengthened. It had her belly in a vice grip and was refusing to let go. "So hard... not to push," she panted. We were still about 22 hours away from the beginning of the video shoot. May and I had convinced ourselves that we could do this - that together, we could keep her pregnant for long enough. Now, as she trembled in my arms, I realized just how far gone she was. For a while, things had been progressing slowly, but now, suddenly, she was truly on the verge of failing. her enormously overdue belly quivered between my hands. "I wanna push SO bad, but I won't. I promise I won't", she whimpered. Her taught belly was impossibly low, an angry ball of fiercely contracting muscle. A single push could be enough to seal her fate. I knew that if we didn't do something quickly, her water could break within minutes.

I heard my doorbell ring, but the sound barely registered as I focused on May. When the contraction finally released her and she was able to stand up straight again, I walked her inside and got her to lay down on the examination bed.

May looked scared and exhausted after the intensity of the previous contraction. As she caught her breath, I put my ear to her underbelly, and I heard it - the low, creaking groan from within her. The same sound that I had heard from Monica's belly shortly before her water broke. My doorbell rang again.

"I promised I'd make it to 43 weeks," May muttered. Yet here she was, at 42 weeks, six and a half days, with her womb fighting so hard to finally end this. It looked like this was a fight that May was about to lose. How could we stop this? How could we get her to the 43 week milestone the next day? And how could she POSSIBLY still be pregnant, and in condition to perform for the camera, by the afternoon?

*WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be attempted or emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.*

“Ashley, I’m in love with you,” Tori blurted out.

Ashley stared blankly for a moment.

In a nervous rush, Tori explained that she had been in love with Ashley for years. After a brief, embarrassed pause, she admitted that she was also wildly attracted to her friend – especially since she had become pregnant.

“So that's why I kept seeing you looking at my belly, and then looking away as soon as I noticed?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah,” Tori sheepishly replied. She went on to hurriedly explain her pregnancy fetish. “And you… you have the most incredible belly I’ve ever seen.”

Ashley remained motionless, seemingly processing what she had just heard. She stared, unblinking, past her friend.

Tori blushed and glanced at her own shoes.

Ashley snapped back to the present as another contraction began. She clutched her swollen belly with both hands, shooting a strained grin at Tori. “Well, you picked a fine time to tell me!”

“Sorry,” Tori murmured.

Ashley laughed, leaning backward slightly as her contraction intensified. “It’s alright! Better late than never. But damn, if you’re really into my belly, well… looks like you waited until the last minute to tell me!”

Tori had felt her friend’s belly a few times, but only when Ashley invited her to do so. And even then, she only ever touched it briefly. She was uncomfortable touching her friend’s pregnant middle without disclosing the fact that it turned her on, but she was too afraid to admit to her kink. And so, despite being obsessed with Ashley’s belly, she had spent most of their time together trying to avoid staring at it or touching it. Yet Ashley had caught her looking a few times.

As Ashley sailed past her due date, Tori’s mind became more and more feverishly fixed on her friend. With each passing day, Ashley grew bigger, rounder, and more beautiful. But each day also brought her closer to the inevitable – labour. Tori laid awake each night, wondering how much longer her friend’s belly would last and trying to psyche herself up enough to finally tell Ashley that she was in love with her, sexually attracted to her, and consumed with desire to feel and explore her swollen belly. Eventually, the dreaded day arrived. Ashley finally went into labour fourteen days past her due date. When it became clear to her that she was, in fact, in active labour, she called her best friend, wanting to see her one last time before becoming a parent. Tori had hurried over, trembling with excitement and anxiety. She had decided to finally tell Ashley everything.

And that’s how Tori ended up blurting out her confessions of love and lust in her friend’s kitchen.

Ashley straightened up and exhaled as her contraction subsided. “So… you think my belly is… what, sexy?”

“Yes,” Tori replied in an uncertain voice. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, or… or if it makes you uncomfortable”.

Ashley smiled. “No, no, I mean… you’re my best friend, Tori. You’ve never been creepy or anything. I just… I don’t know. You seemed kinda weirded out by my belly. Like you hardly ever touched it, even when I invited you to. I guess I’m surprised”.

“Well, I didn’t want to be creepy! I didn’t want to be, you know, feeling you up like a pervert when you thought it was just, like, normal curiosity or whatever. And I couldn’t manage to get the words out to tell you that it was... an... erotic thing for me, you know?”

Ashley nodded. “That makes sense. I wish that you had told me, though! I still would have let you rub my belly. I’m not like, scandalized by the idea that you think it’s hot! But now, I mean… there’s not much time left. I’m in labour”.

“Yeah”, Tori said sadly. “I was stupid, overthinking it. I should have just been honest. And now your pregnancy is over”.

“Well, it’s not quite over yet”, Ashley grinned. As she spoke, she rotated her hips gently from side to side, causing her huge, overdue belly to sway back and forth. Ashley's black hoodie, formerly quite loose, was now stretched tightly over her gravid middle. Her shoulder-length reddish curls swayed too, matching the motion of her belly.

Tori turned bright red and looked back down at her shoes.

Ashley laughed. “No, I mean it! If this is what you’re into, like, we probably have a few hours. I mean, things are progressing slowly. I called you and invited you over because I wanted to hang out with you one last time before I popped! So, like… you can still feel my belly now!”

Tori looked up eagerly. "You're really ok with this?"

“I mean, if you’re that into pregnant bellies – and mine in particular – this is like, the best chance you might ever get! I hope that me being in labour doesn’t ruin it for you.”

“No, I… that makes it better.”

“Really?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe that’s fucked up.”

“No, I’m just… surprised again. So what’s the hottest thing about pregnancy for you?”

It took some coaxing, but Ashley finally got Tori to explain what she liked the best. She liked huge, round bellies. She liked low bellies. She liked overdue bellies – the longer the pregnancy, the better. And she was extremely into labour. “I mean, it’s just that labour is, you know, the most pregnant, right? Like when a woman is in labour, she’s as big as she’ll ever get. So, to see a pregnant belly at its absolute biggest…”

Ashley gave her a smile and nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Alright, I’ll just say it. I’ve always wanted to see a huge, overdue belly in labour. I’ve always wanted to see a belly stretched to its limit, as big, round, heavy, and full as it can possibly get. And I want to feel it – to hold it, rub it, pat it, when a woman is about to pop. And I want to see it and feel it contracting – to explore every inch of a labouring, overdue belly as it squeezes and bulges...”

“I can kinda see how that would be exciting,” Ashley agreed. “I mean, if you’re already into huge pregnant bellies, that’s the most extreme version of that, so... it makes sense.” She studied Tori’s face. “There’s still something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

Tori bit her lip. “No. I mean, Not really.”

Ashley breathed hard as another contraction began. “Well, if there is anything else you want to tell me, you’d better say it now. I can see that this situation is like, your biggest fantasy… ow,” she muttered, rubbing the side of her tightening womb. “And you're my friend, and I haven't gotten any attention like this in months. So I’m up for indulging you! But I don’t know if I’ll ever get knocked up again, so this may be your last chance. So if there’s anything else to your fantasy that you want to explore before I pop here…”

There was a moment of silence as Ashley rode out the contraction. When it ended, she looked Tori in the eye. “Come on. What is it?”

“I… ok, so… the sexiest thing I can imagine is… this is weird, but… I always fantasized about a beautiful woman, who’s hugely pregnant and super overdue, in labour, and like… resisting it. Like, resisting contractions.”

“Like, trying to stay pregnant?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, staying pregnant for as long as possible. Just fighting against her contractions, refusing to give in. And I could like, hold her belly that should have already popped, with a woman who’s just strong and stubborn enough to fight off labour. A woman who shouldn’t be pregnant anymore, but still is, because she chooses to stay pregnant. Maybe because she loves being pregnant, loves her own belly, and won’t let it end. Maybe she’s holding it all in for me, in my fantasies. And then I could be with her, and watch and feel as her huge, overdue, labouring belly strains, barely able to contain the pressure building within, and feel huge contractions sweep through it, making it bulge and quiver, and just… marvel at it, I guess? And at the woman who is so extremely pregnant, and so strong she can stop herself from giving birth? But I mean…”

*WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be attempted or emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.*

May was ready to do whatever it took to keep herself pregnant. The all-important film shoot was a little more than one full day away. She and I would both need to work hard to thwart the efforts of her contracting womb and delay the inevitable for that long.

I finished examining May. The signs were worrying. Everything about her body - the size, shape, and position of her belly, and every other physical sign I saw -  practically screamed the fact that her pregnancy was at an end. I tried various massage techniques, but her contractions kept on coming every few minutes. I was able to reduce the strength of her surges a bit and increase the time between them, but they wouldn't stop entirely. I thought of a new strategy.

I told her that we should get some weight off her hips. To that end, I recommended going to the pool. In the water, her massive belly would seem nearly weightless. Additionally, I had found that cool water tended to have a soothing effect on strained bellies. May was already in a bikini, as minimal clothing was what she found most comfortable at this stage in pregnancy, and it facilitated the examinations and massage techniques I needed to perform on her. She liked the idea of soaking in the pool. Having swam there several times before, she knew the way already. And so, as she walked down the hallway toward the door leading to the outside pool, I followed behind, glimpsing first the left side of her belly, then the right, then the left again, as the swollen sphere swayed back and forth over her wide hips with each step.

As we talked, she leaned back into the water, her body largely submerged. Her face, chest, and part of her belly protruded from the pool's camly rippling surface as she floated on her back. I told her that the more of her belly that was submerged, the more the water would help, but she said she wanted to just float as she was for at least a few minutes. Her belly rose up, glistening as the summer sunlight played across her tight skin, drops and rivulets of water sparkling like silver here and there.

We stopped talking, and May closed her eyes, smiling softly. The water clearly was providing some relief. The moment was peaceful - blissful - for her, and for me as I watched her. But that moment of peace was not destined to last. May's eyes flickered open as her smile faded, her gaze coming to rest on her own distended middle. I didn't have to ask what was wrong, of course - I knew it was another contraction. Her arms, which had been floating carelessly out to her sides, now clasped her belly as it once again began to shift under the force of a surge. Her whole body seemed to clench inward, as if imitating the action of her womb. She drew her knees upward, causing her hips to sink a bit lower, and her arms now wrapped in a tight hug around her belly where the pregnant swell met the rest of her torso. I heard her mutter something under her breath.

I asked if she was alright.

"Yeah", she managed, her voice unsteady.

*WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be attempted or emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.*

May sat up and pushed strands of dark hair off of her face, catching her breath after the contraction. Her green eyes shone with an intensity that betrayed both her worry and her determination. She ran her fingers along her strong jawline absently, brushing away a drop of sweat. The physical exertion she had been going through was evident, but her energy seemed undiminished. "So, what's the plan?"

I told her that I couldn't make any promises. She had been physically ready to give birth three weeks ago, and it was incredible that she had managed to delay the inevitable for this long. "Every single sign points to imminent birth. Your belly is huge, hanging low. You're nearly three weeks overdue. And you're having powerful, regular contractions, which are getting stronger and closer together. In my medical opinion, I'd say that, without any intervention, you're probably only a couple of hours away from giving birth - if that."

"Ok, but I came here FOR intervention, wise guy. How much time can we buy here? The video shoot is in... let me see... 26... 27 hours? So how do we stop me from popping until then?"

"You're really determined, aren't you?" I asked, impressed.

"Listen, I... I am NOT going to lose this belly right before the big video shoot. This is MY body, and I'M in charge here. What I say goes. And I... I love my belly." A slight hint of sadness crept into her voice, and her hands cradled the distended orb in her lap. "I'm not finished with it. With my belly, with... with being pregnant. I need... I just need a little more time!" The sadness was now replaced with desperation. She was almost hugging her own swollen womb now - something that was both a part of her and a beloved possession.

I knew that May dearly loved being pregnant. Between the intrinsic pleasure she got from the way she looked and felt, the attention and praise from others, and the large sums of money she was raking in due to  her beautifully swollen form, it was no wonder she wanted to make it last as long as it possibly could.

"I'll do everything I can for you, but... it may not be possible. We're up against biology here. But... there's a chance. A chance we can preserve that belly of yours for long enough."

May jumped to her feet, her athletic body still capable of surprising speed and grace for a woman who was twenty days overdue and in the midst of hard, active labour. Her belly swayed dramatically as she stepped quickly forward. I was about to tell her that big, sudden movements were counterproductive, but before I could, she was hugging me. I froze for a moment, feeling her bare belly pressing tightly against my shirt.

"Thank you", she whispered. I felt the roundness, the fullness, the weight of her overburdened belly pushing against me. As she lingered there, leaning forward to awkwardly embrace me above the massive swell of her middle, I began to feel the warmth of her tight skin as well. "Besides," May said softly, "I know you love this belly as much as I do. I know you want this to last too..."

Though I could not see her face as she hugged me, I knew from the playful tone in her voice that the mischievous smile I had seen so many times before must have crept onto her face. I placed my palms on the sides of the taught, overdue sphere as she pushed her bellybutton more firmly against me.

May laughed, probably amused by my continued stunned silence. She also seemed to enjoy the fact that I was as obsessed with, and enchanted by, her belly as she was. For months, she had shared her pregnancy with me. She enjoyed seeing how much I enjoyed it. She also enjoyed teasing me a bit.

*WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be attempted or emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.*

May paced back and forth, clearly upset. She had been in and out of bouts of labour for days. She was extremely pregnant - nearly three full weeks overdue. The swollen sphere of her belly hung low and heavy over her hips. “There must be a way to stop it”, she said.

May had been beyond ready to give birth for a long time, and her body kept trying to initiate the process. Each time, through either her own effort, my expertise, or both, her labouring belly had been soothed back into complacency. But each time, bringing her out of her spiralling labour and stabilizing her belly took more effort.

I was a specialist with an odd talent. Some people called me a “belly whisperer”. Others called me a “pregnancy prolonger” or a “birth controller”. The different terms all alluded to one fact - if a pregnant woman wanted to stay that way for longer, I could help.

Sometimes, a pregnant actress wanted to make sure she didn’t pop before a scheduled film day. Sometimes, a pregnant model wanted to buy time to book a few more maternity modelling gigs before losing her belly. Sometimes, a woman who wasn’t in the public eye at all came to me, wanting to delay her delivery until she had finished moving into a new house or giving an important presentation at work. If they weren’t yet in labour, I would work to delay the onset of contractions. If they were in labour, I would do my best to stop it. Through my knowledge of massage techniques and pressure points, I had found ways to reliably influence wombs. I also taught the women breathing exercises and self-massage techniques that could allow them to gain a higher degree of control over an organ that was supposed to act automatically.

I was good at my job. But my abilities had limits, as did the female body.

May was straining against both.

I had stopped her labour the previous night, but it had been a difficult struggle. After two hours of intensive efforts, her contractions had stopped gathering strength and begun to back off, slowly becoming less frequent and less powerful. After four full hours, her belly was stabilized - she was officially out of labour, and still pregnant. I had warned her that this new calm would likely not last for long.

Sadly, my warning was not wrong - her contractions had returned the next morning. Now she stood before me, telling me to make it stop again.

May was scheduled to film a music video the next day, along with several other extremely pregnant models. They were all overdue, and a few of them were clients of mine. I had been working overtime to make sure none of their impressively enormous bellies failed them before the big day. The new music video for “Big Belly Beach Babes”, a comedy song that had become an unofficial anthem for pregnancy “enthusiasts” (or fetishists), was supposed to be full of “huge, hot, overdue women whose bellies are about to blow”, according to the singer’s announcement online. To that end, a casting call went out, and pregnant women - many of them actors, models, or dancers - were hired. Only women due around the end of June were hired. The filming day was deliberately scheduled for mid July. A lot of women were signed up, as it was obvious that many would give birth before the video was filmed. Those who remained, however, would be extremely overdue. That was the goal.

Of the 78 women who initially signed up, 63 had already popped. That left 15 women with overdue bellies, all of them doing their best to stave off labour. The big shoot was scheduled for the next day.

Most of these women were around two weeks overdue, give or take a few days. Every belly that I had examined in the last few days had shown telltale signs that the inevitable was drawing near. In other words, the entire cast of the video was more or less on the verge of giving birth. Some, like May, had been going in and out of labour, and I had been scrambling to help them preserve their bellies for long enough.

May and another woman named Yuki were tied for “most overdue”, both being 20 days past their shared due date. In one more day, if they were still pregnant, they would officially reach 43 weeks. This was not unheard of, but it was very rare. The average pregnancy lasts 40 weeks, and few exceed 42.

I got May to lay down on her back on a bed. This was the 24-year-old model’s first pregnancy, but by this point, she had plenty of experience with contractions - she had been fighting them off every few days for weeks now.

Her distended belly rose like a rounded mountain - an orb of pale, smooth skin, almost unbelievably huge. I placed one hand atop the summit - her protruding belly button marked the middle, the fullest point of her overdue uterus. I put my other hand against her underbelly, halfway between her bellybutton and her hips. I began to slowly push her belly, which naturally hung low, away from her hips and toward her breasts. A soft sound escaped her lips as the weight of her womb shifted.

She was truly massive, but there were no stretch marks marring the moon-like expanse of tightly-stretched white skin. Despite being filled to the limit, May’s remarkably supple skin and womb still had some give. Her belly was pleasantly heavy, soft, and round in my hands. It was not unlike an enormous water balloon. May shifted her hips into a more comfortable position, causing her belly to sway back and forth. I marvelled at her. The mental determination and physical strength she had displayed over the last few weeks was astounding. I had helped, but she had been fighting valiantly against her body’s own urges, refusing to give birth for weeks after she was biologically ready to do so.

May’s belly was her prize - her best feature, as she called it. She had always been beautiful, but as this first pregnancy of hers progressed, she had gained more and more attention and success. She recorded photos and videos of herself every day, showing off her body to thousands, then tens and hundreds of thousands, and eventually millions of fans online. She never posted nudes, but images and videos of her in bathing suits and other revealing outfits that showed off her bare belly were especially popular. Her belly content raked in millions of views. May was also doing professional photoshoots nearly every day. Sometimes she modelled maternity clothing for various companies, and other times she merely allowed more artsy photographers to capture her beauty.

She loved being pregnant. She had told me that she loved the way she felt, the way she looked, and the attention that her belly earned her. Her belly was her money maker, and she loved it dearly. The bigger, rounder, fuller, and heavier it became, the more she and her fans adored it. It’s a fact of biology, however, that the bigger, sexier, and more incredible her pregnant middle became, the closer she came to losing it.

“Part of me is kind of excited to experience labour”, she had told me once, “but I don’t want to give birth”.

In a way, she had gotten her wish, going into labour only to resist it and stop it multiple times. Any photos or videos she posted of her contractions drove her online fans especially wild. Her comments were a mix of excitement from those who found labour attractive and sadness from those who lamented the seemingly imminent end of her pregnancy. Some commenters told her to go with it and give birth, while others begged her to resist - to fight her contractions tooth and nail. The longer her belly lasted and the more massive it got, the more excited they became. Some simply did not want to see the end of this remarkable pregnancy, and some found the idea of a woman resisting labour, stubbornly refusing to give birth as her bulging belly strained to contain the building pressure, to be incredibly thrilling.

Although I was never anything but professional with my clients, I did disclose to them that I had an intense sexual attraction to pregnancy. Most were ok with that fact once they mulled it over. If it made a woman uncomfortable, I would refer her to someone else. May knew that I especially loved huge bellies, overdue bellies, labouring bellies, and women who were resisting labour to stay pregnant for as long as possible. Getting to see and touch her belly was a part of my payment that she offered gladly, enjoying the attention. So she must have known that seeing her in this state, nearly three weeks overdue, her vast womb periodically wracked by contractions, doing everything in her power to delay a birth that seemed imminent, was driving me wild.

As I examined May’s belly, I heard her stifle a moan. At almost the same instant, I felt her swollen womb begin to tighten. As her uterine muscles tensed, the glorious orb hardened and shifted.

“Fuck”, she breathed.

The round mass pushed back against my hand that cradled her underbelly, moving visibly down toward her hips. It shrank slightly, becoming firm as the squeezing of the taught muscles increased the pressure within her. The now harder, smaller belly lurched as the contraction strengthened - lurched toward her hips.

More accurately, her belly was shifting toward the exit that lay between her toned thighs. Her overburdened womb was now striving to fulfill its final purpose. Its first job had been to stretch and swell, but that phase of the process had ended. Its ultimate goal now was to give birth.

I massaged the contracting mass, trying to hide the concern in my voice as I told May to breath deeply. The surge was more powerful than I had expected.

I had known May for a while. We considered each other friends. As her contraction gained strength, I stood up straight and looked down on her. I kept my hands on her labouring belly and just watched for a moment. I felt concern, pity, admiration, and intense erotic desire all at once as she fought against her own body’s efforts. Her face bore an expression of grim determination. Drops of sweat had broken out on her brow, matching the beads that rolled down her struggling belly. Perhaps instinctively, she spread her thighs apart, her modesty preserved by nothing more than her bikini bottom. Then, realizing what her legs were doing, she slammed them back together.

The contraction peaked, her womb squeezing as hard as it could. Her belly, firm and low, remained almost stationary for a moment. Then, as the contracting muscles grew tired, her wavering womb began to apply pressure unevenly, causing her belly to shift. One side relaxed slightly, allowing half of the orb to expand a bit. Her belly swayed uncertainly. Then her womb redoubled its efforts, shrinking her whole belly in again. The round mass began to quiver. Then, suddenly, her exhausted womb gave up. The contraction ended, and her belly bounced back into its normal size and shape. This sudden release of pressure allowed the whole mass to bulge dramatically upward and outward, her center of gravity rising towards her breasts again. Her overdue womb swayed back and forth between her hips and her ribs for a moment before falling still.