Circus Gives Birth

While trying to ignore the stares and finish her shopping as quickly as possible, she heard someone say her name. Whipping around - as fast as she could while weighed down and fattened so much by the squirmy litter she was carrying - she saw someone familiar. It took her a moment before it hit her: this was the girl she used to bully back in school. Holly. Well, the one she bullied the worst.

Her eyes went a little wide at the realization, especially as she took in her transformation. In school, this girl was fat. Really fat. Jessica used to call her things like pig and cow every day, and would sometimes get all of the other girls in the locker room to stare and laugh at her when she changed. Now? She was thin, like, Hollywood or Instagram thin, with a nice round ass and big, perky boobs. The kind of body she had before she got herself ruinously knocked up. Her face and hair were gorgeous, and her body looked even better because of the flattering way her sleeveless blouse and high-waisted floral shorts fit. Self consciously, Jessica shifted on her swollen feet and rubbed the side of her belly where a baby's foot kept kicking her.

"Jessica? Look at you," her former victim said, smiling with vitriol as she strolled right on over. She even had to look down at her a little because of how tall her designer heels were - the kind of heels Jessica couldn't even think about wearing right now; even if she could balance with all that extra mass, her feet were too swollen to fit into anything so slim and delicate like that. The other woman's hands were on her belly, rubbing circles into the top and side of it, making her gasp.

"You're huge. You look like those babies are going to pop right out of you. God, I almost didn't recognize you, you look completely different than you did in school. Remember how skinny you were? You've really blown up, huh?" she carried on, rubbing her belly all over, feeling the babies kick and stretch her overtaxed skin even further.

"I can't imagine being pregnant at all, much less this pregnant. How many do you have in there? Ten?" she asked, finally looking at Jessica for an answer.

Sourly, she attempted to hold back her scowl. "Four," she responded as casually as she could manage, trying not to give this woman the satisfaction of getting under her skin. It didn't seem to be working.

"Four?! Oh my god. Well, no wonder you're such a blimp, you've been pigging out on all these cookies and cakes and stuff," Holly said, grabbing a couple boxes out of her cart to call attention to them before tossing them back in with a smug grin. "Those have to be some really fat babies. Look how fat they're making you. You'll never lose all that baby weight."

"Look, I - it's been good catching up," Jessica cut in, flustered, and with her feet starting to really ache, "but I've really gotta get going."

"Oh, no problem. I'm just finishing up, too, why don't I help you load your stuff?" Holly asked, still grinning as she turned towards the checkout lanes and pulled Jessica's cart with her. With not much choice, she waddled along after her, exasperated.

Holly sped off ahead of her, still dragging her cart, and kept tossing things into it. It was all snack cakes and candy bars, Jessica realized, her jaw dropping. Was she trying to make her get all of that stuff as some sort of joke on her?

By the time she made it to checkout, Holly was already at the register with her debit card out. "I've got it, mommy," she said, winking. Jessica was a little stunned, confused about what the angle was here.

Holly didn't rush off without her this time, probably because she didn't know what Jess's car looked like, she assumed. As they approached it, she gasped, seeing one of her back tires completely flat.

"Oh! That sucks! Well, uh, hey, I could give you a ride," Holly said, suddenly far too friendly and helpful. Maybe Jessica just took her words too hard back in the store and she wasn't really feeling spiteful anymore.

"Um…" Either way, it was that or wait on a bench in the store getting gawked at by everyone who came in and out until AAA showed up. "Okay," she agreed, not too excited about it.

"Great. My car's right here," Holly said, again pulling the cart off in another direction. Thankfully, it wasn't all that far. She opened the passenger side and slid the seat back as far as it'd go, something that made Jessica's cheeks burn with embarrassment. She got in without a word though, failing to hold back a groan as she climbed into the seat. Even moving as lightly as she could, she felt and saw the car shift and sag from her weight. It even groaned and creaked a little.

After getting the address, Holly took off, and started up her chatter again.

"You must be so excited to give birth and take care of all your babies. You're really gonna have your hands full. I don't have any kids, I don't think I ever will. There's too much that I want to do, you know? I'm getting my master's right now. I technically don't even really need it because I've been doing a lot of modeling, but, I'm not gonna do that forever, and it just makes sense to use some of the money I get from it to pay for school so I can do what I really want. I want to travel more, too, and that's so hard when you have kids, especially overseas. I've already been to Europe, but I want to go a lot more." She went on like that for the entire car ride, occasionally asking Jessica a question that felt aimed to humiliate her.

They finally got there, and if she could, Jessica would have hopped out and ran inside, but she was too big and too heavy for any of that. Instead, she had to grunt and groan as she struggled to heave her massively pregnancy-fattened body out of the car. By the time she was flat on both swollen feet and stable, Holly was bringing the last of the bags to her porch. Instead of setting them down, Jessica realized she was just holding them while she went to unlock the door. After that, Holly just walked right in the house.

"Uh… kitchen's over here," Jessica waddled to go and sit on the couch, which had a clear view of the kitchen with the open floor plan so she can keep her eye on Holly, still unsure of what to expect from her. She brought everything in, and even unpacked most of it, putting away all the perishables in the fridge, but for some reason, she left out all of the snacks Jessica got, as well as the ones Holly had been throwing into the cart. Before she could say anything, she was walking over to the couch with a box of chocolate snack cakes under her arm.

"I figured we can have some of these while we hang out." Hang out? Jessica felt embarrassed just looking at Holly and her perfect figure, she didn't want her to stay any longer, staring and judging her baby-filled body. But Holly was already on the couch and handing her a snack cake, which she did buy. Jessica took it without a word, but didn't open it until she saw Holly getting one for herself.

"You must eat a ton of these. I haven't had one in years. They're so bad for you. Really fattening. But I guess you know that," she said with a little laugh, patting Jessica's belly. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, especially when a baby kicked Holly's perfect, slender, manicured hand. "Ooh, I felt a kick! Wow, that's so crazy. I've never felt a pregnant belly before. It's so weird. You just look so big. I never thought I'd see you like this, so fat and stuffed full of babies. I just never really thought of you as a mommy, you know, getting pregnant, carrying babies in your belly while you blow up like a parade balloon, then nursing and changing diapers all day, every day. - Hey, go ahead and finish your snack," she said, smiling.

Jessica felt too humiliated and indebted to say anything, or even argue, so she finished the rest of the snack cake. As soon as she did, Holly took the wrapper and handed her her own, which Jessica just noticed she never took a single bite of. "Go ahead and eat it." There's something firm in the way she said it, and Jessica obliged. "You don't have to take those little bites just for my sake. I don't care. Go ahead and eat 'em in one bite, if you can."

"I," Jessica scoffed, stunned and embarrassed, "I can't do that," she mumbled before finishing it on her second bite. Again, Holly swapped the wrapper for another. "I really don't want mo-"

"It's fine, I already know you eat like a pig." She said it so casually, like the words were meaningless. Jessica was a little surprised, and sat still for a moment, and Holly took the hand holding the cake and moved it closer to her mouth. "Eat, mommy."

Being made to eat fattening cakes in front of Holly was humiliating, but something about the confidence and command in her voice made Jessica comply. Holly ended up giving her the entire box, saying, "Eat all of them," and Jessica did it, one after another, stuffing her face with cake after cake. When she got to the last one, Holly hopped up, returning seconds later with her arms full of all the snacks she'd left out on the counter and dumping them on the coffee table. She picked up a box of twinkies and opened it up, shoving the first unwrapped snack in Jessica's face. "Open up," she said, and again, Jessica couldn't turn her down, opening her mouth and letting Holly shove the whole thing in. She didn't even struggle to chew.

"I knew you could eat them in one bite," Holly laughed, already unwrapping another. As soon as Jessica swallowed, Holly was stuffing another into her mouth. "Mm, that's good, isn't it, mommy?" she asked, rubbing Jessica's active belly. "The babies must like it. I think they're still really hungry, though." Again, she was feeding Jessica another.

Whimpering softly, she kept eating, letting Holly feed her more and more until the box was empty. It wasn't over yet, though, and she was already opening another box and sticking one in Jessica's mouth the moment she swallowed. "Mmph," she moaned quietly in weak protest.

"What's that, Jessie? I can't understand you when your mouth is full. You're such a fat pig, can't you go a second without having any food in your mouth?" A second never did pass without Jessica's mouth being full, with Holly stuffing her with cake after cake. They had already made it through a third box, and she was starting to feel a little full as the next one was opened and another was crammed into her mouth.

"I think you're getting fatter already," Holly teased, still rubbing Jessica's belly in between unwrapping cakes. "Doesn't seem possible, does it? I don't know how you're still walking around, as big as you are. You're as big as a house. I think it really suits you, though, being sooo fat and pregnant." All she responded with was a little whine as Holly relentlessly stuffed more and more into her mouth.

They were four boxes down, and Holly didn't look ready to stop. Jessica groaned as she kept making her eat more and more. "Remember what you called me in high school? Fat cow." It didn't feel like she was reminding her. "Now look. You're fatter than I ever was. And you went and got yourself knocked up with four giant babies. You've even got udders," she said, laughing as she grabbed each of Jessica's tits, as much as she could fit of each in her hands, anyway, and squeezed. Milk immediately soaked her top, dark spots spreading dramatically and making her dark, wide areolae slightly visible through the fabric.

"Oh my god, you're really making milk. I thought that wouldn't happen until after the baby comes. You really are a cow. Keep eating, you need it to make milk for your big, fat babies," Holly said, laughing and smiling while holding Jessica's massive mommy milkers. She let them go all at once, letting them bounce and wobble and leak on top of her belly. Jessica started to protest but Holly shoved the cake in her hand into her mouth. "Uh-uh. You have to keep eating. I want to see how fat you can get. You're already a whale, what's another ten, thirty, fifty pounds, huh? You might as well just get fatter. You'll never lose it all, anyway."

As she talked, Holly unwrapped and fed Jessica another cake, which she scarfed down, despite starting to feel full. Holly then grabbed the bottom hem of Jess's top and lifted it up over her tits, leaving them exposed. "Mmm…!" Jessica tried to protest, but Holly shushed her.

"You're a cow, and cows need to be milked." Suddenly, her mouth was closing over Jessica's areola, latching on and suckling. She gasped, shocked to have Holly suddenly nursing from her, while one hand pumped her other breast, the other rubbing her kicking baby belly. Being milked like an actual cow was humiliating, but Jessica didn't do anything to resist, and instead continued stuffing herself. She knew Holly would just make her if she didn't.

"Mm, mommy likes getting milked, don't you?" Holly asked, briefly breaking her latch before switching to the other teat. Jessica moaned, from the feeling of being suckled at, the food, and her growing fullness, only made worse by her babies and their constant movement. She could swear she could hear her skin straining with every kick. She was so full, it was starting to hurt, but she was onto box six, anyway.

Holly continued nursing for what seemed like a long time, taking breaks to stuff a few more cakes in Jess's mouth when she wasn't eating fast enough, and to tease her.

"Have another, I know you want it, piggy. You really do look fatter already. I think your belly's bigger. It kind of looks like you might have another baby in there." Jessica just groaned, rubbing her belly and eating everything in front of her. The pain in her belly was getting worse, and after finishing off the seventh box, she really tried to refuse another.

"No, please, I'm too full. I'm gonna… I feel like I'm gonna pop if I eat any more," she whined, rubbing both sides of her boulder of a belly.

Holly put on an exaggerated pout and rustled around in the grocery bags on the coffee table. She straightened back up with a box, one that Jessica recognized - "I have donuts," she teased in a singsong voice, taking one out and holding it in front of Jessica's lips. "Oh, we both know your fat-ass isn't really gonna turn it down, so just eat it," she said with more force and intensity, the mirth from moments ago gone. A little startled, Jess quickly complied and started eating. The worst part was, she was right. She was always going to eat it, and then another, and another, until she finished the entire box, just like she was doing then.

Holly grinned as Jessica filled her overstuffed belly even more, and it really did look like she was getting bigger. Satisfied, she leaned back in to drink more from Jessica's watermelon sized milk jugs.

"Ohhh, god," she moaned in between bites. "Mm, my belly. Fuck, I'm really gonna burst." Despite her complaints, Jessica kept eating more and more, already finished with the donuts and moved onto more snack cakes. There were so many boxes, between how much she already had in her cart and all the ones Holly grabbed.

"Good," Holly suddenly broke her latch, leaving both of Jess's udders to drip and leak freely. "Keep eating until you burst. You'd have to be such a fat-ass to eat that much, wouldn't you? I want to see you do it. I know you can, so be a good mommy and eat more. Just keep getting fatter for me. You like being such a whale, don't you? If you're already a blimp, you might as well eat as much as you want, right? No need to worry about how much bigger you'll be after stuffing yourself until your huge mommy belly bursts at the seams." The soft palms of her elegant, long hands glided over Jessica's belly the entire time she spoke.

"Mm, you're definitely bigger already. I wonder how many pounds you'll gain from all this food. Maybe I should be careful with this milk, hm? It's probably so fattening." Her head slowly moved down again, her eyes on Jessie's as she took her udder into her mouth and began suckling firmly, and almost reverently. "Mm," she moaned, briefly closing her eyes in ecstasy and suckling harder and faster, gulping down more and more milk. Jessica groaned and panted, a little overwhelmed by having her teat nursed from so vigorously. Holly's mouth felt like a vacuum pump, making her feel like a cow hooked to a milker.

She didn't let up at all for the longest time, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of milk, until Jessica actually felt like it was starting to empty. With a little milk on her lower lip, Holly grinned at her. "You'd like it if I got fat from your milk, wouldn't you? You want me to let myself get as fat as you so you won't have to be jealous of how hot and thin I am?" She did want that, and she wondered if she might get it when Holly even dove back into drain her other breast.

Now, Jess was starting to groan with nearly every bite, the pain in her belly seeming to subside for a while until it came right back again. She realized it wasn't from how much she was eating, but practice contractions. She'd been having them for weeks and weeks, and just hoped they'd go away soon. And they did, for a while. The realization made her feel relieved, knowing she could eat plenty more, and she was even more embarrassed by the thought.

Holly stopped drinking only for a few seconds to open another box of cakes or a candy wrapper before Jessica could go a moment without her mouth filled. It really did feel like she had somehow gotten even bigger, and she swore she could actually see a difference as her former victim massaged the huge swell and hungrily suckled at her teat.

Another contraction came on, far sooner than Jessie ever would have expected. Despite the pain and her labored groaning, she continued stuffing her face, fully giving into her ravenous cravings. She could tell by the look in her eyes that Holly noticed, and it wasn't hard to tell how pleased she was.

"Good cow. I need a big, blue-ribbon winning dairy cow. Your milk is so sweet, I wouldn't even have to add sugar to my coffee if I put some in first. Too bad it can't be very healthy. I really shouldn't drink any more." She seemed to even mean that.

As she spoke, Holly continued to shove more snacks down Jess's throat, enjoying the promise of making her even bigger. The contractions kept coming, and Jess was getting concerned that this might be real labor. She'd been having them for so long, she didn't even think about how they'd been progressing since the day before. It was seeming more and more like that that was the case, but she really hoped not.

She just kept eating, seeming to be no end to all the snacks Holly bought. By then, Jess could almost swear she could hear her belly stretching as she ate and her babies kicked. Thankfully, Holly had no issue with her taking multiple pee breaks, of which there had been a lot. In fact, she seemed to really enjoy watching Jessica groan and lumber her way to the bathroom, getting slower each and every time.

She wasn't sure how much time has passed, but it must have been a while, because not only had her breasts filled back up with milk, they were becoming painfully full. Holly hadn't been draining them for a while, but Jess had seen her staring at them several times, almost like she was resisting the urge. When milk started to bead and then slowly drip from her nipple, that was when she finally decided to give her her much needed milking, suddenly leaning in and latching tightly, looking into Jess's eyes while she suckled.

As relieved as she was to have her teats milked, the contractions had only gotten worse, and she found herself groaning louder and louder with each one. She could see it getting dark outside, but her husband was away for the weekend. She was totally at Holly's mercy.

"Mm. It's nearly time. I can tell you're just about ready to burst." All Jessica could do was grunt and groan, slowly beginning to get the urge to push and doing everything to resist, all while still stuffing her face.

Holly laughed, pumping both Jess's tits, thick streams spraying from her nipples. She moaned, bearing down just slightly. The baby was so low, then, it felt like it was going to fall out of her. It didn't, but as Holly milked her, she ended up pushing after another minute or so.

"You're so big and round. I bet you'll pop if I just poke your big be-" As she said it, Holly did exactly as she said she was going to, and just as her finger prodded the swollen, tight skin of Jessica's overstuffed mommy belly, she pushed, and her water burst, gushing out and soaking her tight shorts.

"Oh, wow! You actually popped!" Holly sounded so excited, thrilled to have stuffed her full until she burst. "Are you already pushing?" All Jess could do was groan.

"You really ate until you popped. What a good, greedy fat cow. I know those babies are huge in your fat belly. You must really be feeling how big they are, now. I bet you'll be pushing for a good, long while. You need to keep yourself strong." Somehow, she managed to chew and swallow all the snacks Holly stuffed her with.

"Hoohoohoo…!" she panted as a contraction came on, having been given a break from eating during. This time, she pushed hard, squeezing her eyes shut and groaning. The baby was huge, and it was barely moving when she bore down. It felt so big, she wondered if it was possible for the babies to have put on more weight since she'd been sitting here getting fattened until she burst.

"Good. Push, mommy. My good mommy cow, birthing her fat calves and making so much milk for me." Holly nursed from each engorged udder, moaning as she latched.

"Pushssssshhhhh-iiiiinnnnnghhhhh…!" Jessie groaned, pushing as long as she could. Suddenly, she felt Holly's fingers feeling her slit through her soaked shorts.

"Not bulging at all yet, huh? Let's get these off." She tugged down her shorts, helping her shift and lift herself until they were finally down to her ankles and discarded. Holly's fingers immediately found her pussy, two of them sinking inside and making her gasp.

"I can feel the head. It's definitely coming out, but you might be pushing a while. I think I might be able to help, though." With a grin, Holly kept her fingers inside, and began curling them slowly until she found Jess's g-spot, making her cry out in shocked ecstasy.

"Ooh, you like that, mommy? I'll bet you like giving birth, too. You like being a fat, round heifer calving for me. Here, I know you still want more, greedy cow." More cakes were getting stuffed into Jess's mouth, and she couldn't even try to resist, moaning loudly around each mouthful as Holly fingered her. When her next contraction came on, she didn't stop or even slow down, and Jess was groaning loudly, spread legs shaking as she pushed hard and startling pleasure shook her to her core. Fluid squirted and sprayed from her pussy, gushing all over Holly's hand, but she didn't seem to mind at all.

"I knew you'd like it. We'll have to keep you pregnant and fat like this all the time. I want you even bigger, next time. More babies, and I'll make sure you pack on the pounds." Jessica just kept moaning, only getting louder when her contractions came. The baby was moving lower, slowly, but faster than before, since she really couldn't stop pushing now, each time feeling like she was at the brink of an orgasm.

"That's it, keep pushing. It's coming, I can feel it moving down." Holly's fingers didn't slow, and she went back to Jess's tits for more milk. The laboring mother was practically screaming now, pushing hard, overwhelmed to dizzying heights by all of the sensations.

They kept going like that, with Jess pushing and nearly cumming while Holly fingered her and nursed from her huge mommy milkers. Jessica was so distracted, she almost didn't notice when the other woman switched to rubbing her clit, the baby's head now nearing the exit. Holly could feel her beginning to bulge and moaned with her mouth full of tit and calorie-dense milk.

She must have been pushing for over an hour, but Jessica had no solid sense of how much time had actually passed. Holly was rubbing her clit and cupping the head bulging out of her, all while vigorously suckling from her milky udders.

"Ohhh, god, it's... coming... OUT! I'm CROWNIIINNNNGGHHHH...!" Jessie wailed, feeling herself stretch around the head's widest point.

"That's right, your huge, fat baby is coming out of your pussy," Holly broke away to speak, with a little droplet of milk on her lips before she wiped it away on the back of her hand. "God, it's really fucking big. Like you're giving birth to an obese toddler. Of course a whale like you would pop out babies this big. They're probably all gonna weigh, like, twenty-five pounds or something. You know that? You've got a hundred pounds of baby in your huge mommy belly."

As she spoke, Jess's eyes rolled back in ecstasy and she cried out, long and loud, pushing harder than ever as everything in her tensed with the biggest orgasm of her life. The bulbous head burst free between her legs, supported by Holly's hand and accompanied by a rush of fluid that would have soaked everything beneath her if it weren't already from her water breaking. Panting and moaning, she was delirious with sensation, rubbing her belly and pumping her breast while milk sprayed from it.

"Oh my god, you really liked that, didn't you? You actually just came from giving birth? You really are nothing but a breeding cow, aren't you? Don't relax too much, you've still got to push the rest of this monster out." Holly's words made her feel like she might just cum again.

She was right, of course, in that there was hardly any time to relax or recover from that mind-shattering orgasm (interestingly, the best one of her life). Breathing heavily, it felt like she'd had hardly a moment to catch her breath before another contraction was coming on.

"Okay, push, mommy, push. You're calving so good for me, aren't you? Fat, pregnant fucking cow." Jessica groaned lowly, getting louder as she pushed and Holly made fun of her. This was certainly a far cry from her original birth plan. She could feel the shoulders straining against her puffy pussy, stretching her as they tried to force their way through.

"It's coming! It's coming out! Keep pushing!" Holly continued to encourage her. It really wasn't necessary, with no epidural or medication to dull any of her senses, but Jess had to acknowledge at least to herself that it was turning her on to have a running commentary, as well as being ordered around by someone she never thought she'd respect.

"Push! Christ, that's a big fucking baby. Oh my god. How the hell is that even coming out of you? Your fat fucking pussy is never bouncing back from this. I don't think anyone else would even be able to fit this thing inside them, and your fat ass has four of them in your huge fucking whale belly." She just kept going, and Jessie squealed as she felt the wide shoulders finally popped out, and the rest of the baby gushed out right along with them and into Holly's hands.

"Holy shit! I can barely lift this thing up!" She heaved the squalling newborn up to where Jessica could see it, and even she was shocked to see that Holly had hardly been exaggerating; it was a goddamn behemoth. It weighed just as much as it looked like it did, and she briefly thought she wouldn't be able to breath through the rest of her labor as it was laid on her chest. She guided it to her nipple, and it latched far more easily than she'd believed it would.

"Of course your fat-ass baby has no trouble nursing. A lot of women really struggle with it, but you're just a natural dairy cow, aren't you?"

"Ohhh, god, Holly, please..." Jess didn't even know what she was asking for, just that she was overwhelmed with sensation and embarrassment.

"Oh, quit pretending you don't like being my breeding bitch. We're way past that now. You better try and relax while you've got a minute. I don't know when the next one's gonna come." Suddenly, she got up and went to the kitchen, which Jessica only knew because she heard her turning on the faucet. When she returned, she was drying her hands on a hand towel that she tossed aside.

"Giving birth to that gigantic baby probably made you hungry, huh?" she asked, tearing open a snack wrapper and shoving the cake in Jessie's mouth without waiting for a response. Like a good little cow, she opened up and ate it without any issue.

"Good girl." Holly rubbed her belly with one hand while she watched her chew before grabbing the next one. "You've got even more room in there now, don't you? Lot of space to fill up. I want you even fatter the next time."

Holly crammed another cake into her mouth, effectively keeping her from responding. "You're my personal baby factory, now. I'm gonna make sure you're always knocked up, until you're all out of eggs." It made Jessica moan, and Holly grinned, knowing she liked that.

"All those big aspirations you had, and now you're happy just to pump out babies constantly for the rest of your life. You might as well be the best breeder you can." She watched the laboring mother's pussy gush and laughed.

"Fuuuck... oh, god, it's gonna come...! I'm having another babyyyy...!" Jessica gasped, her belly contracting hard and forcing her to bear down.

"That's right, you're just squeezing 'em out, one after the other, aren't you?" The teasing made Jessica groan loudly as she pushed, and her second water broke all over the couch. Holly reached and felt inside of her, surprised at what she found.

"Oh, wow, it's already really low. I can feel the head." Her fingers slid back out and she splayed her hand on Jess's massive, kicking underbelly. She felt the muscles tightening under her hand from the contraction, while Jessica moaned loudly from the other side of her pregnant mass and pushed.

"It's coming really fast, this time. You're already starting to bulge... yeah, you're spreading really good. God, this one's just as huge, but you're such a good, fat birthing cow, it's not a problem, huh?"

All she could do was push and moan. Holly watched as her vagina stretched around the head and she started to crown.

"Holy shit, you're already crowning! The head's almost out!"

Jess panted as the contraction subsided. "Hoohoohoohoo...!" The baby on her breast was still suckling, and she wondered if she'd have to feed all four so much that she'd always have two attached to her milky teats.

Soon, she was pushing again, her voice raising into a shout as the giant head squeezed through her canal before coming out with a splash.

"There it is, mommy," Holly cooed, patting Jess's belly condescendingly while she supported the head. "This thing's the size of a grapefruit. The rest has to be as big as a turkey. Just breathe, then you're gonna push that fat baby out of your wet mommy cunt."

The description was apt, her pussy gushing between pushes. "Oh... ohhh... OHHHHH, it's coming NOOOOOOWWW...!" she screamed, bearing down hard. It felt like her body was a machine doing exactly what it was designed to do, automatically and without thought. It seemed she really was a baby factory.

The second toddler sized baby flopped out of her and into Holly's ready arms, who then laid it on Jessie's chest. This one, too, found her milky udder almost immediately, only crying for seconds before it was suckling.

"Just like a mama sow nursing her fat piglets," Holly giggled.

Jessica looked down at herself, the image as unbelievable as the one she'd been seeing for nearly a year. Instead of just seeing her enormous, kicking belly, she saw her slightly smaller, but still absurdly distended, belly with two monster sized babies feeding at her huge cow tits.

Suddenly, Holly was disappearing behind her huge baby-stuffed gut, ducking down. Before Jess could ask what she was doing, she was gasping as she felt the other woman's hot, wet mouth on her clit. First she licked it, and then she was sucking it relentlessly while Jessica writhed and screamed. Her birthing cunt was practically spraying from how wet she was getting, the intensity almost unbearable as she labored and nursed at the same time.

"OH! OHHH, GOD, HOLLYYYY...! HOOOOHHH, IT'S-... I'M-... COMIIIIIINNNNGGGHHHHH...!" she wailed, a massive flood of amniotic fluid bursting from her pussy as the third baby barreled through her cervix and she had the most intense orgasm of her life. Her womb contracted hard and she bore down with it, feeling the baby move lower. But even then, Holly didn't stop. Jess felt her fingers in her cunt, monitoring her progress, all while sucking her clit as vigorously as the babies suckled from her engorged udders.

"AAAHHHH, GOD, TOO... MUCH! FUUUUCK, I'M... CUMMING IT... OUUUUUT!" she shrieked, already building up to another orgasm and unable to stop pushing. She could feel her third baby beginning to bulge out, and Holly's hand stayed on the widening slit. She was birthing faster than before, even faster than she realized was even possible, which seemed ridiculous given the size of her overdue brood.

As the second orgasm wracked her body, Jessie felt the baby crowning before the bulbous head popped out of her. She'd assumed that Holly would stop, then, but her mouth stayed latched to her swollen clit while her hand supported the head hanging out of Jess's laboring pussy. She didn't think she could handle it, and she writhed and squirmed her hips while screaming out her fat brat.

"OHHHHHHH, I'M HAVING IIIIIIT...! YOU'RE... MAKING ME... BIIIIIIRTH!" she screamed as she pushed the wide shoulders from her body, her cunt spasming and spraying fluids with her orgasm and Holly finally stopped as she caught the baby.

"Holy shit. You pushed this one out so fast. And you came, like, three or four times," Holly laughed, wiping her face, which had been soaked in Jessie's fluids. "Talk about a fucking squirter. Such a breeding slut, cumming and giving birth like that. Let's see how fast we can get this last one out. Ooh, and it wants out bad. It's really kicking, huh?" she teased, rubbing her squirmy belly before laying the crying newborn on top of it.

Jess really looked like the definition of a breeding slut, with three newborns on her while a fourth kicked inside of her. Even with just one left, she looked like she was still carrying twins.

She hardly had a moment to catch her breath or even regain her ability to form coherent thoughts before Holly was back to mouthing her oversensitive clit, making the laboring mommy scream from the overstimulation and pleasure. She pushed and her fourth water broke immediately, the last baby forcing its way through her battered cervix. Despite the discomfort and pain, she was already cumming, the intensity of it making her push even harder. This one was coming even quicker than the last, already filling her stretched birth canal and bulging her swollen pussy.

Holly didn't let up for a moment, moaning with Jess's clit in her mouth as she sucked. Jessica panted and groaned loudly, her groans quickly turning back into screams as yet another orgasm built inside of her. She pushed again, still screaming, her muscles clenching hard and forcing the massive head through her cunt. Still cumming and pushing, the wide shoulders followed behind, and she birthed the last of her litter in one long push.

Her hair clung to her forehead from the sweat, and Jessica felt like she was gasping for air, as though she'd just come up from being held underwater. Holly was sitting fully upright, grinning at her from between her still spread legs and holding the gigantic, screaming baby in her arms.

His child knows him. They roll inside of you when he speaks during lectures. The sensation is alien and yet the pure knowledge that it’s his baby leaves you wet and wanting after each class.

And he knows it. The bigger you get, the more obsessed he becomes. Now, instead of fucking other students when you’re not around, he invites you to watch. His eyes stay on you, locked on the way your hand rubs your bare belly, so round and big because of him, and he fucks the other student until he nearly climaxes. But his cum is for you. He always pulls out and goes to you instead, now forcing the other student to watch as he sucks on your swollen areolas and drives his cock into your oversensitive cervix until you’re screaming and dripping with him.

The school year finishes; summer break begins. When your senior year begins, you’re nearly ready to burst. Everybody’s shocked that you even came back to school, but you insisted. You have to be with him, your favorite professor, the man you’re obsessed with, the father of your child. And he needs to be with you. You’re his, his darling broodmare.

When your labor begins, you’re obligated to notify him. He demands you come to his office later that evening. By that point, you’ve been laboring for hours. Your contractions are quite uncomfortable, but you’re not going to disobey him.

“Ah,” he greets when he opens his door for you. “I have a present for you.”

He leads you inside. There’s another student in his office -- a junior, someone you’ve admittedly felt a bit jealous of. He looks at her too much. Gets too close when he speaks to her.

But he doesn’t acknowledge her for now. Rather, he guides you to a nearby chair. Before you sit, he strips away your clothes until you’re naked from the waist down. Then he seats you, grabs some silk ties, and ties your wrists behind your back and your ankles to the legs of the chair. You can’t move; you just have to sit there, pussy bared wide to the other student, moaning as a contraction wracks through you.

Professor Hale murmurs something to the other student -- something you can’t catch -- before he turns back to you. “Watch,” he tells you simply. “If you need something, you will beg for it.”

Before you even have the chance to say anything, he turns back to the other student and bends her over the desk. He leans forward, pressing slow, hot kisses down her back. “Look at her,” he says out loud. “You were even more beautiful.” His fingers ghost up her thighs; his fingertips gently prod her entrance. “You moaned so prettily for me. Begged me to knock you up. Remember?”

You moan once more, partly from the pain of the contractions, partly from how undeniably aroused you are at the memory.

“Pathetic,” he continues as he slips a finger inside of her. The other student whimpers; he starts to slowly thrust into her. “But so gorgeous.” Professor Hale lifts his face and meets your gaze. “I had to give you what you begged for. How does it feel now?”

You let out a loud whine, squeezing your eyes shut as pain radiates through your core. “Adrian,” you choke out, “this -- oh, fuck, this really hurts.”

“Good,” he says. He slips a second finger inside of the other student, drawing an obscene cry from her. “Your suffering will be rewarded. Your devotion will be similarly cherished.”

He suddenly removes his hand. The student lets out a displeased noise, but Professor Hale ignores her. Instead, he unbuttons his slacks and pulls both them and his boxers down until his cock is exposed. It’s already rigid and flushed; he pumps a hand down it, smearing the other student’s fluids down his length.

“Do you want to see what it looked like when I got you pregnant?” he murmurs. “While your body prepares to give me what I put inside of you?”

Your hips buck at that. “Adrian.” You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pain and building pressure. “I think I’m getting close.”

“Not yet,” he says firmly. “You can’t push until I tell you to.”

He turns back to the other student now, rubbing the head of his cock against her entrance. She starts to cry out again, begging for more of him. His fingers card through her hair, not so much tender as it is patronizing. “Shh,” he tells her. “I’ll satisfy you soon enough.” He leans over her again, kisses the space between her shoulder blades, and then, finally, thrusts into her. She lets out a dramatic gasp, her legs suddenly going tense as he completely buries himself in her tight cunt.

“Wonderful,” he grits out. Then he turns his head towards you. “But not as perfect as you.”

He starts fucking her, hard and deep, a faint smile on his face as you squirm and whimper from your worsening contractions.

“She’ll never have what I gave you,” he says. “You’re my greatest protege.”

Fuck, you’re utterly torn between how much pain you’re in and how fucking hot this is. Your hips roll, desperate for relief from the pressure of your baby’s head, but also so goddamn desperate for him.

“Beautiful.” His eyes are dark, locked on you. “So swollen with me. So ready to give me a child.” His thrusts intensify, punching out yelps from the other student. “And as soon as you give me this one, I’ll put another one inside of you.”

“Oh, my god,” you say -- no, sob. “Adrian, fuck -- oh, god, I need to go to the hospital--”

“No.” He slams into the other student. She’s practically screaming now. “You will stay here.”

The pain rocketing through you prevents you from saying anything more. You dissolve into whimpers and groans, straining against the ties on your wrists and ankles. Meanwhile, Professor Hale keeps fucking the other student, pulling out when she gets too close to finishing, fucking her again when her begging becomes insufferable. This keeps going until--

“I need to push.” You rock your hips forward as you moan. “Adrian, fuck, I’m going to start pushing.”

One moment, he’s behind the other student at the desk; the next, he’s suddenly next to you, untying the restraints on your ankles and wrists.

“Absolutely not.” He pushes you forward so that you’re on all fours on the floor. “You will not push until I say that you’re allowed. Understood?” He glances up at the other student. “Violet, please observe.”

Your protests are shattered by a scream as he shoves himself into you. “Adrian!” you shout as tears run down your face. Everything aches so much; your body is practically begging you to push; and yet this feels fucking incredible in a way it shouldn’t.

“Quiet,” he tells you as he starts rutting inside of you furiously. “You should be grateful for this.”

You moan as your body contracts again. God, you feel so tight around him like this. “Fuck, Adrian, I am, I am.”

He continues fucking you, hissing as he slams into you over and over. “You’re perfect,” he tells you again. “Kneeling like a dog, taking my cock when you would rather be pushing.”

You arch your back, gasping at the sensation. “Adrian, please, I need to--”

The pain is unbearable. Tears fall down your face. He keeps fucking you anyway.

“Adrian, enough!” you choke out. “Oh, fuck, please, Adrian, let me push, please.”

He clicks his tongue as he speeds up. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He grips the back of your neck. “Let your master have his fun first.”

God, you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Your body starts to contract again; then, it’s pushing on its own, drawing a loud, long cry from you as you bear down. The sensation finally causes Professor Hale to break. He seizes suddenly, groans, and his cock pumps into you over and over and over. When you lift your head, you can see the other student watching you with a hand between her legs and a glassy look in her eyes.

Fuck. You are so fucking turned on.

“Adrian, god, make me come!” you scream when he pulls out.

His palm bears down on your tailbone while his other hand finds its way to the space between your legs. “Push,” he commands as he begins to touch you.

“But I want to--”

“Push,” he repeats. “Now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you bear down. His cum spurts out of you and drips onto the floor.

“Keep pushing,” he says, pressing down harder between your legs. “You will give me my child.”

You obey. The way his fingers rub you roughly sends painful jolts of pleasure through you. Combined with the pushing -- oh, god, you’re so fucking close. You’re so full of him, belong completely to him.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your ear. “Are you going to come while giving birth to my child?”

“Yes!” you gasp.

Professor Hale smiles as he glances up towards the other student. “You wish this were you, don’t you?” he purrs. “Spread out on my floor, laboring with my child, completely mine in every way that matters.”

The baby’s head pushes down deep into your birth canal. The stretch of it causes you to scream, but the pain bleeds into the pleasure. And then, suddenly, you’re coming, and you come so hard and beautifully that the other student is also coming from the sight of it. And Professor Hale is bent over you, letting out a pleased, airy laugh against your throat.

“Push,” he orders softly. “Give me my baby.”

Your vision goes black. You nearly fucking pass out. But you keep pushing through it until -- suddenly -- there’s a squelch. Professor Hale shifts behind you.

“A son,” he murmurs into your ear. “Well done.”

You collapse now as the baby begins to wail. Professor Hale hums as cradles the baby in his arms and snips the umbilical cord.

“Violet,” he says calmly, “you’re dismissed.”

She leaves silently. You tremble on the floor, completely exhausted and out of breath.

It still was an hour before noon when Sam felt the urge to push. She was squatting by the couch, rolling her hips through the latest contraction, when the band of her cervix must have finally effaced enough, and the head began to slide into her canal, accompanied by her body's demand to bear down.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Her wails fell on deaf ears as she dropped to the floor, squeezing her legs togather as tightly as she could. The baby couldn't come if there wasn't any room. It was a panicked, desperate thought, but it was all she had.

She rode out at least ten contractions that way, sat on the floor, writhing screaming and doing everything within her power to not push. She could do this. She could just not push. Her husband would be home any minute. He had to be, right?

The phone rang, somewhere behind her, and without thinking she turned. The moment of movement, just enough to spread her legs the barest bit, was all her body needed, and Sam was wailing at the feeling of the head forcing its way through her cervix.

Phone forgotten, Sam cried as her legs fell open, unable to keep them closed anymore. She felt the head moving down, down down, her lips beginning to bulge with the sheer size of the head behind them. Helpless to do anything else, she put both hands between her legs, as if she could physically hold back her child from emerging. It was of little use, though, and only two contractions later and her body was beginning to open in spite of her best efforts. Her baby was coming.

Panic. It was sheer, unadulterated panic that made her grab for the couch, dragging one of the large pillows to the floor. Before she could think, before she could consider what she was doing, she hauled herself up onto her knees, whimpering as gravity made the head open her more, wedged the pillow between them and sank down.

The feeling of the head being forced backwards into her body was indescribable, the noise that came out of her nothing more than animal agony. Her vision darkened around the edges for several seconds, until everything seemed to settle at once. She was still shaking with pain, of course, but the head was safely within her body. That was what mattered, and as long as she kept her weight on the pillow, it would have no way of moving until her husband got home. Everything was fine.

She got into a rhythm, then. The contraction would come, and she'd raise her hips, pushing until she began to feel that dreaded ring of fire. The moment the burn started, she'd drop back down onto the pillow, nudging the head back in until the next contraction. And then she made a different kind of mistake.

Her hips had begun to ache, both from the body currently lodged between them and the position, and she'd shifted in an attempt to regain some kind of comfort, when the soft pillowcase had dragged across her clit.

Maybe her poor body was simply overstimulated in every way, maybe the prolonged abuse of her most sensitive area had sent extra bloodflow to the little nub, maybe she was just fucking broken, but the contact sent sparks up her spine. She rolled her hips again, finally moaning in something other than agony.

It was impossible not to chase the pleasure, the fullness between her legs and the overwhelming pressure of the enormous head only amplifying her ecstacy as she rode the high farther and farther from the pain, an orgasm coiling in her gut. She was going to cum, she was going to come so fucking hard-

The burn of the head opening her into a yawning crown made her shriek, dropping her weight back down onto the pillow and sobbing until the head receded. when again, her aching slit pressed flat against the pillow, she began to rock again, doing her hardest to work herself back toward the edge.

She lost count quickly. Of how many times she'd nearly cum. Of how many times she'd defied her every instinct and felt her child recede into her abused body. Of how many times she'd felt the head nearly pop free, her oversensitive hole fluttering and twitching around the mighty stretch. It was so close. She was so close. It was too much. Too, too much.

She was going to die like this, she was sure, drowning in pain and pleasure and need. Need to birth. Need to cum. Need for this to end. Need for it to never end.

In the end, she was so far gone that she missed the sound of her liberation entirely. She missed the sound of the lock turning, of hurried footsteps, of her husband's gasp that might have been horror or arousal or awe all in one. She was deaf to the sound of his voice, the sound of it humming her name so sweetly lost beneath the hoarse, desperate scream that escaped her as she retreated once again from the brink of release.

What she was aware of, however, was the sudden feeling of the pillow being removed from between her legs, gently, slowly, but the result was immediate.

The head surged to stretch her to the widest diameter it had yet and she howled, hands reaching between her legs frantically as she fought to hold it in, to stimulate herself, to do anything, anything.

Large, warm hands seized hers forcefully, and for the first time she became aware of her husband's presence.

"It's- I- coming... I'm- oh god..." She sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she buried herself in the shoulder of the man kneeling in front of her, the man she'd done everything in her power to wait for. He was encouraging her to push, she was aware, distantly, and as if her body itself had been waiting permission, it happened.

Rubbing at your eyes, you push yourself into a seated position, your wings fluttering behind you to work out the kinks of sleep. He's standing outside of your cage, an absolutely gargantuan figure of a human in comparison to your own two-foot height. He's holding some sort of board with a piece of paper clamped to it, and he seems to be taking notes as he observes you.

You'd think after all this time, he'd run out of things to write.

But then again, it feels like there's always something new happening with his work.

Your recollections of existing as a free fairy in the outside world feel like a fading dream these days, the forest where you grew up almost a distant memory. You'd only just reached maturity and struck out on your own, as your kind is wont to do, when you discovered what you now know to be a fairy trap: offerings of fresh fruit, honey, and milk laid out within a strange wire-wrapped box. You were cautious enough to examine the box with a critical eye and deem it harmless before venturing in, but all of the caution in the world meant nothing after the door snapped shut to trap you inside. 

You remember hurting yourself in your panic, the cold iron of the wire burning your skin and delicate wings in your frantic struggle to escape. Then came a bright light, booming voices, pain, and then… nothing.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in this cage, with the Researcher at your side. It's been that way ever since.

You think there are others of your kind here in this place, somewhere. You hear them sometimes. But you've never seen them.

"It's time for your morning exam," the Researcher informs you, as dispassionate as always, his gloved hands unlatching the front of your cage. "And today's medicine. I've also got a treat for you if you're good. Will you be good for me today?"

You learned a few things of note early on in your captivity. First, that you were much better off cooperating than fighting back. The damaged ligaments of your wings, sliced with a surgeon's precision to leave you unable to bear your own weight during flight, are evidence enough of that. And second, while you are perfectly capable of speaking, the humans talk about a whole lot of things you don't understand and show no interest in actually listening to you. So, why bother trying to hold a conversation?

So you dutifully stand and stretch your arms wide, letting the Researcher's objective yet almost gentle touch flow over your nude body. He strokes over your extremities before working his way toward your torso, where he pauses to knead your faintly bloated pecs with both thumbs. The touch should disgust you, but after being subjected to it day in and day out, it's started to grow… oddly pleasant. 

"Looks like the tissue here is still a little swollen from the last reproductive test," he murmurs to himself, the tips of his thumbs rubbing circles over your tightening nipples. You can't help but shiver at the sensation. "You might still have some milk in your ducts, which is surprising, considering that you last carried…" He glances at the paper he'd set aside before opening your cage. "Ah, yes, the modified larvae of Specimen 78251. Not exactly a creature known for nursing, but then your body doesn't know that, does it?"

It's impossible to forget those creatures, honestly. The large, worm-like things filled your belly to the limit, constantly squirming and writhing beneath your skin until slithering free of your womb during their inevitable birth. 

His hands finally move lower to palpate the loose skin of your belly, covered with silvery stretch marks from all of the unnatural pregnancies you've had to endure since your capture. Some of them were easier than others; the slimes were chilly but extremely supple, while the hard shells of those mysterious eggs were uncomfortable but small enough to pass without too much trouble. You can't possibly remember everything that's been stuffed inside of you to gestate at this point, but it should be coming to an end soon. 

The Researcher promised.

"Well, I have to say that you've recovered quite nicely. I believe that it won't be long until you're ready for the next step in our little experiment. Isn't that exciting?"

You stare up at him and shrug. What choice do you have?

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Medicine first, then a tasty little tidbit for being so cooperative." The Researcher finally lets go of you to retrieve a small tray covered in a variety of medical supplies, most of which you can't make heads or tails of. Thankfully, it doesn't appear that you'll be receiving an injection today, but the syringe filled with a pale pink liquid is all too familiar. 

The Researcher seems to notice the hesitance on your face and smiles, the expression nearly genuine. "Remember, as long as you remain fully cooperative, we'll release you when we're done with our tests."

You sigh and open your mouth, resigned. 

The nozzle slips easily between your lips and over your tongue. You watch the Researcher start to depress the plunger and instinctively begin to guzzle the medication, letting the cool, sweet-and-bitter fluid slide right down your throat. It's easier just to take it instead of fighting—the sore jaw and near-drowning associated with being forced to swallow are not experiences you wish to repeat. 

If only there weren't so damned much of it. You gulp and gulp and gulp, feeling your belly start to fill and bulge from the sheer volume of the fluid. It's a struggle to get the last mouthful down, but you somehow manage without wasting any. You're left groaning, though, rubbing a soothing hand over your rounded gut as it twinges and burbles in protest. 

"There you are. Good boy. Now sit down while I get you your treat."

You drop to your knees and then shift to your rump on the bottom of your cage, plucking idly at the soft fabric that lines it while you wait for the man to follow through. Already, you can feel the strange liquid starting to blur the edges of your vision and leave your thoughts a little woozy, but it's okay. 

It's okay because good boys get honey.

He only gives you a tiny dollop, but that liquid gold might as well be the nectar of the gods to a fairy like you. You forget all about your aching tummy as you greedily devour your treat, grunting and moaning as you lick the small saucer clean of every remnant you can find. At one time, you might have been embarrassed for showing such enthusiasm, but your experiences in this place have leeched most of the shame from you. It's better to gobble down the good things when they come than do without.

The Researcher takes your saucer as soon as you've finished sniffing and lapping at the plastic dish, reluctantly accepting that there's no more honey to be had. You smile lopsidedly up at him, your thoughts muddled like he'd stuffed your head full of cotton. 

He's so nice for taking care of you and giving you such nice things. So big and strong and sweet, almost as sweet as the honey.

You hear the sound of a pen scratching on paper, but it doesn't bother you. The honey and other substances flow through your veins like the pleasant buzz of alcohol, wicking away all of your worries and cares, until you inevitably find yourself slumping backward.

"Whoa there, little one," he chuckles. A large hand cups you from behind and slowly lowers you down so you don't hurt yourself. 

Such a nice human. The tiny squeak of a hiccup leaves you giggling, though you giggle even harder when you realize it was you who made the sound. Your medicine always makes you feel so silly. So silly and… and… warm. And fuzzy. 

You hum happily to yourself, mindlessly sprawling across the fabric like a starfish. 

You're so out of sorts that you don't even react to the sound of rasping metal or the stroke of something firm and slick between your legs. Something's happening, something that you probably should be concerned about, but your mind is shrouded in a pink, swirling haze of bliss.

There's… something rubbing against you. Something that feels good.

You whimper and wriggle your hips in search of a bit more friction.

"Does that feel pleasant, little one?" the Researcher asks, his voice sounding like it's coming from somewhere unexpectedly far. The rubbing between your legs continues, eased by some unknown fluid. "Would you like me to continue?"

Your chin bounces in an eager nod.

"Ah ah, I'm going to need you to use your words," he clucks, pulling that wonderful pressure away and leaving you whining. "I know you can speak."

You don't want to. If he's not going to help, then you'll just do it yourself. Eagerly spreading your knees apart, you slide a hand down over your belly and dip your fingers into the hollow void that demands to be filled. You're impossibly wet, your dick already erect and throbbing above your folds, and–

But then there's pressure at your wrists, tugging your arms away. You let out a petulant moan, thrashing against the cruel hold.

"What did I say? Speak for me."

These humans are heartless creatures, dragging you away from the pleasure your body so desperately needs. But you also really need that whatever-it-is back between your thighs before you simply explode. "Yes," you bawl, too strung out to see more than a blur of color where his face probably is. "I need it!"

"There's my good boy." And just like that, the wet friction is back.

It swirls around your straining dick and along the seam of your wet opening, spreading your juices around to make the slide even easier. You can't tell what exactly it is –a finger, perhaps, or some sort of tool– but it's difficult to care when you're in this state. When all you want is to feel something breach you and fill you up. To drive rhythmically into your body until that strange heat is sated. 

Your hips drunkenly undulate, hoping against hope that whatever the Researcher is teasing you with might finally slip inside, but no matter how hard you grind down on it, it seems like it's simply too big to fit.

It's not until you're practically sobbing with frustration that the human changes the angle of his assault, and suddenly you feel your dick sink into a warm, wet recess. Your hips buck again, feeling yourself sink into that opening like it's been made for you to fuck. You're not sure what it is, but it feels incredible. 

Sniveling from the sheer overpowering rapture of it, you find yourself clawing at the floor of your cage while you squirm, your hips rocking up in jerky, irregular thrusts. You need more of that squeeze around you, sucking you in, soft and warm and slick. The pressure, the friction, the way your dick throbs with every movement—it's doing something to your addled mind, making you lose yourself in the pleasure of it. You shove harder, your breath coming in short, frenzied gasps. 

And then your orgasm slams into you, so intense that you find your vision blurring even more. You cry out, your body shuddering through the violence of it, your dick pulsing vainly inside that tight, wet space. 

But things don't end immediately after your climax. Whatever-it-is pushes firmly against your ravenous cunt—not hard enough to enter you, but firmly enough to seal the opening of your hole over the tip. 

There's a deep, groaning sort of grunt in a voice that's not your own.

Liquid heat floods your belly, forcing the skin of your abdomen to jerk and swell, until it's stretched painfully tight. 

And then, your vision finally goes dark.

"Good morning, little one. It's time to wake up."

You stretch your limbs, groaning at the pressure and soreness that grows with each passing day. It's started to make it hard to get a full night's sleep, and you're exhausted.

But the Researcher's soothing voice keeps you tethered at the edge of consciousness. 

"Specimen 4582 is progressing well through the twentieth week of gestation. The hybrid fetus is smaller than what might be expected for a cross with homo sapiens, but it is within acceptable estimates considering its progenitors." Familiar fingers rub over your bulging middle and begin fondling it in a clinical yet surprisingly thorough manner. "An ultrasound has not yet been conducted, but a manual exam reveals that the fetus is likely around the size of a lemon." 

Your mind isn't awake enough to try and grasp the meaning behind his words, not that many of them make sense to you anyway. Instead, you let out a whine of displeasure, trying to shift away from that uncomfortable touch.

"There's no way to tell how long this pregnancy will need to progress to reach viability. We do not yet have enough data to determine how long creatures of this sort typically gestate their natural young. Experiments with other specimens have been inconclusive in this area. With that in mind, it appears to be a reasonable hypothesis to infer that this point could occur anywhere up to the usual nine-month mark."

You manage to crack your eyes open, squinting up at the man who is still talking into a little metal box and rolling your tender belly around under his fingers like a tennis ball. 

"However, considering the rapid growth of Specimen 4582 thus far–"

Finally reaching the limits of your patience, you growl and smack warningly at the human's fingers, though you have enough sense to keep your claws sheathed.

"Ah, the specimen is awake. Voice log to be concluded later." You hear a click. 

"Was that too much stimulation, little one?" His touch gentles and slows until it grows pleasant again, and you no longer feel the instinctive urge to bite. "I'm sorry. I forget how sensitive you're getting sometimes." 

You huff in annoyance but otherwise allow him to continue caressing your swollen womb. It can be comforting as long as he's careful. 

"Your belly is starting to get rather big, you know. Such a pretty little thing. But you've got a long way to go, so you simply must refrain from being so frisky. Otherwise, I may have to restrain you for your own good." 

Restraints. The thought of being tied up in this state fills you with fear, and you can't choke back the whimper that rises in your throat.

"Shh, shh, little one. It's okay. I just don't want you to come to any harm." The Researcher's fingers come up to stroke the line of your jaw, a pale imitation of a lover's touch. "It's my job to look out for your well-being. Why don't you relax for me?"

Then he does something he's never done before. The Researcher leans down and presses his lips to your bulging middle, the touch soft and warm against your straining skin. It's almost affectionate. 

A confused breath shudders its way out of your lungs. All you can do is nod.

He's still kissing your abdomen when you feel the warm, blunt tip of one of his fingers nudge its way between your legs. "We're going to try something different today," he murmurs, petting your sensitive flesh. "Since you'll be giving birth to something a bit larger than you have before, I need to make sure you're well-prepared. Will you let me take care of that for you?"

You swallow, your thoughts racing. You have no idea what he's put inside your womb this time, but you do know that you need to cooperate if you ever want this to end. Cooperation means freedom. So, while your instincts beg you to remain wary, you glance up at the Researcher through your lashes and give an uncertain nod.

"Wonderful," the human says with a faint smile, already reaching for something you can't see. There's a sharp pop, a bit of movement, and the Researcher's slick-coated finger is back between your thighs. It's cool, but something about the liquid leaves your skin tingling in a very agreeable way. 

Maybe it's the near-constant stream of medicine flowing through your veins. Maybe you've simply been conditioned to react to his touch. Regardless of the reason behind it, you find faint sparks of pleasure starting to rise beneath his finger, the friction and pressure teasing your reluctant nerves alight. 

The Researcher slowly circles your entrance, the deliberate pressure just enough to make your hips twitch. You bite down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the soft sound that threatens to escape.

Then his finger presses inside of you, and your back arches off the cage floor. You're no stranger to this part of you being stretched, not when you've already given birth to eggs, bugs, and slimes, but this feels different, somehow. Maybe it's the way he's watching you so intently, or maybe it's the mystery of having no idea what's gestating in your womb. Whatever it is, it makes your pulse pick up like the beat of a drum, your chest rising and falling with shallow, panting breaths. 

You lie there as he works his finger deeper, the slick glide smooth and unhurried. It's a tight fit—you're not built to take something this big, and the Researcher knows it, but the knowledge doesn't seem to slow him down. Your body clenches instinctively around his fingertip, and he hums softly with a sound that might be approval. His other hand shifts to your hip, holding your body steady as he starts to move with more confidence. In and out, each thrust as deliberate and measured as the next.

Sensation builds quickly, causing heat to pool low in your belly. You can feel every wrinkle of the strange white glove he wears, every subtle shift of his finger as it drives and curls inside of you. Your maimed wings quiver at your back, a telltale sign of your growing arousal, and you can't stop the small moan that slips past your lips.

"Good," he murmurs again, his voice a low rumble that's unlike any your kind makes. "You're taking me so well."

The Researcher's pace quickens slightly, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more insistent. Your hands tangle in the fabric that covers the floor of your cage, your knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip, pleasure coiling within you like a spring. His fingertip nudges against a particularly sensitive spot that makes you gasp, and your hips buck wantonly against his hand.

"There it is," he says, almost to himself. You have no idea what he's looking for or what it does, but he seems to focus on that spot anyway with each precise, unrelenting movement, even if you can barely take him to the first knuckle. The pressure of your lust builds deep in your core until it's almost unbearable, your body trembling with the need for release.

"Please," you whisper, though you're not sure what exactly you're asking for. For more? Faster? Harder? For freedom from this near-torturous pleasure? 

He doesn't respond, but his finger doesn't stop either. He just keeps driving it into you, rocking your tiny body with the force of every shove. You're left staring sightlessly up at the ceiling of your cage, gasping, panting, whimpering, until finally, the tension just snaps.

You cry out, feeling an orgasm quake through your body and shake you to your very foundations. Convulsing, your cunt clenches around his finger like a vise.

The Researcher keeps moving through it, drawing out your orgasm until you're shaking and mewling with overstimulation. Only then does he withdraw the digit from your well-fucked hole, the sudden emptiness making you sob. Your vision wavers as you watch him step back, peeling off the glove with a practiced motion and tossing it away.

"That was adequate, at least for now," he says, reaching for the board and paper again. "We'll continue further preparations tomorrow."

You don't have the energy to respond. Your body feels heavy, your mind a haze of exhaustion and lingering pleasure. But as the Researcher's footsteps fade, you can't help but wonder what he might have in store for you next.

"–wake up."

No. You just want to sleep. You have just enough freedom of movement to sort of curl up around your increasingly ungainly abdomen, yawning and trying to ignore the voice. 

It's been so hard to sleep lately as the offspring in your womb continues to grow. You've never seen a pregnant fairy get as large as you are before; your belly is far too massive to allow you to move with any ease. But with your offspring's increased size comes more activity. It started out as faint flutters, like tiny butterflies flying around in your stomach. Now, every time whatever you're carrying shifts or kicks, it's enough to shake your whole body. 

"Specimen 4582 has reached the thirtieth week of gestation. The hybrid fetus remains active and seemingly healthy. A recent ultrasound shows that the fetus is approximately the size of a cantaloupe and could weigh as much as a pound, which is impressive considering that the pre-pregnancy weight of Specimen 4582 was recorded at approximately eight pounds."

You crack your eyes open to peek at your belly. You have no idea what a cantaloupe is, but it must be enormous. 

As you watch, the hot, red skin of your abdomen starts to ripple and contort. You stare in hazy fascination while the life within you shifts—a new being gestating within your body like you're little more than a fleshy sack. 

The thought should probably bother you more than it does. 

"In order to make the pregnancy more… tolerable for the subject, I have been administering a daily dose of a synthetic methamphetamine to stimulate their libido upon waking, as well as a daily tocolytic to prevent pre-term labor. So far, there have been no negative side effects." 

There's a faint pinch and then a sting in your arm. You grumble, wishing he'd not bother you with his senseless babble or by filling you with medicine when you're so tired, but you know better than to move until the needle slides free.

The offspring inside of you jolts and starts to squirm like it's been energized by whatever he's pushed into your veins. Wide-eyed, all you can do is gape at the sight of your skin as it starts to stretch and expand around spindly limbs. Your belly shudders like it has a mind of its own, clearly agitated. Not for the first time, you wonder what they've put inside of you. 

But the contents of your womb are not all that the medicine stimulates.

The Researcher's voice drones on as liquid heat starts to spread through your gravid form. It's subtle at first, almost something you can ignore, but it flares brighter and hotter with each passing minute. It's getting harder to breathe, your breath coming in short, heavy pants, and an unnatural flush feels like it's on the cusp of setting your skin afire. 

But it's nothing compared to the ember of lust that bursts to life between your thighs. 

The background noise dies out, and the next thing you know, the Researcher's voice is much closer. "Oh, you poor thing," he whispers in a syrupy-sweet voice as he strokes your writhing abdomen. "My apologies for leaving you in such a state. Let me fix that." 

Between the restraints and the massive size of your pregnant belly, there's not much you can do to avoid his attention, even if you want to. You're suspended in a medical hammock that cradles your ever-growing form without forcing you to lie flat, your legs and feet dangling free while your useless wings hang limp. The device puts you roughly at the same level as his belt buckle, a fact that doesn't mean much to you until you realize that he's opening the front of his pants to dip a hand inside. 

Oh.

Your mouth falls open in wonder as you watch him free his cock and begin to stroke it, the flesh gradually beginning to plump and rise before your gaze. It's just as huge as the rest of him, and you know for a fact that there's no place in your body where that could possibly fit. 

Gods. It's a good thing it can't fit, too, because otherwise, he might be able to plant his seed in your belly and get you pregnant. The possibility is horrifying. 

There's no way you can carry a human child!

"Don't worry, little one, I'm not going to pierce you with this, no matter how much we'd both like that," he chuckles, completely ignorant of your growing panic. "Unfortunately, you're just too small for such things right now. But that doesn't mean that I can't help you in other ways." 

He slides a crooked finger up along the cleft between your legs, gathering the fluids that have already begun to leak out of you on the tip of his finger. It's just enough of a touch to steal your breath and make your back arch as you let out a high-pitched whimper. 

Your mind isn't sure that it wants this, but your body sure as hells does. 

"That's right, just relax." The swell of your wriggling belly blocks you from seeing most of his movements, but it doesn't do anything to stop the pleasure that's starting to curl in your core. The Researcher's fingertip circles around the straining nub of your dick, making it rise eagerly from its nest among your folds. "We both know how much of an insatiable little thing you are when your womb is full, and it's going to help you feel so much better if you let me take care of you."

You don't understand why this is happening, why your body reacts so intensely, why this alien touch makes you feel so good, but it does. Curling your fists over the straps that keep the hammock suspended, you can't stop your hips from canting up to meet the pressure and grinding into his finger, not any more than you can stop the hiccuping mewl of pleasure that it wrings out of you. 

"Good boy," the Researcher says, helping himself to a fresh batch of slick before his strokes begin moving faster and with more focus. 

It's… it's too much. The heat blazing through your body burns with a fury that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. All you are in this moment is a being of lust whose fires are being stoked out of control. You writhe and cry out, needing more, harder, inside–

"Let's hear you come for me."

You hear his words, and you feel his finger slide into you and drive deep, and you shatter into stardust.

All you can do in the wake of your orgasm is hang there and gasp frantically for breath as he rubs his hard shaft against your belly, until your skin is painted with something warm and wet.

Sleep is fitful when it comes these days. 

You feel like you're constantly hovering in a state of semi-lucidity, spending more time dozing than you do awake. And even your waking hours remain hazy, shadowed by the inexplicable lust that seems to dog your every moment. 

Someone is talking. There's a familiar pinch. You struggle back to awareness.

"Specimen 4582 has reached the thirty-third week of gestation. The health and activity levels of the hybrid fetus remain within the expected parameters. Yesterday's ultrasound showed that the fetus has grown to roughly the size of a head of cauliflower."

A warm palm comes to rest against your abdomen, curling appraisingly over the tight dome. A thumb rubs almost affectionately over the stretch marks littering your once-pristine skin before circling the bulge of your popped navel. 

"While the restraints are no longer necessary due to the subject's size reaching a state that leaves them immobile, I have elected to continue using them, as well as the tocolytic, to reduce the symptoms of false or pre-term labor. I remind the board that it is imperative to my research that Specimen 4582 gestates their offspring for as close to the term of a normal homo sapiens pregnancy as possible."

The distended spheroid of your pregnant abdomen hangs heavily before you, every movement of your hybrid child visible through the veil of your skin. It's been stretched so tight at this point that it's practically translucent, a sheer, paper-thin layer of flesh decorated by a delicate network of blood vessels. When the light hits your skin the right way, you can see a dark shape shifting within—undoubtedly humanoid and very, very large. 

There's nothing 'normal' about your pregnancy.

But despite your apprehension, the heat at your core is rising again, twisting under your skin and leaving you squirming. It feels wrong, but you find yourself almost craving what you know will come next. 

"I have also decided to employ manual techniques to prepare the subject's body for the upcoming birth. Further details will be listed in my written reports."

His hand drifts lower, cupping momentarily beneath your overgrown belly before a finger nudges purposefully between your legs.

You barely even hesitate before pulling them further apart. 

Your body is clearly ready for him, if the slick dripping down your thighs is any indication. The tip of his finger is blunt but thick as it circles your opening, teasing, pressing lightly—just not nearly enough. Your feet and toes curl as you try to thrust your hips greedily toward his touch, as if you could somehow force the finger deeper out of sheer need. But unfortunately for you, you lack the strength necessary to shift the weight of your ponderous abdomen.

He's completely ignoring your dick right now, but you can feel the pulse of your heartbeat throbbing through the erect flesh. Gods, this isn't fair.

"Take it easy, little one," the Researcher gently murmurs, another muted push leaving you moaning in frustration. "Think of the baby."

But you can't think of the baby, not when every nerve ending in your body is screaming to feel him inside of you. You can't think about your captivity, or your strange compliance, or his broken promises of release. You can't think of anything but more and harder and now now now–

One hand grips you through the hammock, steadying your form, while a finger of the other finally plunges into you.

You howl.

It's big, almost too big, that foreign intrusion into your most secret place. But your desperate body still welcomes it in with a wet squelch and tries to swallow it whole. Your eyes roll back in your head, wide yet unseeing, every shred of your consciousness narrowing down on the single point of mind-melting lust between your legs. 

"That's good," the Researcher says, sliding his finger in to the second knuckle. "Look how well you take it."

It's not like you have a choice when your body burns and aches for it with a fervor that threatens to drive you mad. Half keening, half sobbing, you throw your head back and buck your hips as best you can under your abdomen's hefty weight, every bit the picture of mindless lasciviousness. 

Unperturbed by its parent's torment, the child in your womb turns and kicks, tenting your delicate skin over a not-so-tiny heel. It's strong enough to be uncomfortable, to even leave the overtaxed skin burning a little. 

The Researcher's finger crooks and hits something just right.

And just like that, you shatter again.

You're leaking.

Your chest aches from the burgeoning pressure of glands swollen with milk for a yet-unborn child, but every brush of your nipples sends a thrilling spark of pleasure through your body. 

"Specimen 4582 has reached the thirty-sixth week of gestation. The hybrid fetus shows no signs of health issues, and ultrasounds indicate it has reached approximately the size of a honeydew melon. While we are still a week away from the typical period when labor can be expected to begin, my estimations calculate that the fetus is taking up an increasingly high percentage of the subject's total body mass, so some symptoms of parturition may not be too far off."

Panting and squirming with need, you fondle your chest and let out a little hiss of relief when you manage to coax some of that liquid free. It spills over your fingers and down over your impossibly large belly, a pendulous mass that hangs heavily from your hips and swings with every movement. 

There's fluid between your legs, too, a mixture of your slippery natural lubricant and a faint dribble of the clear fluid that your womb is no longer able to hold inside. 

"I have employed additional straps to cradle the underside of the subject's abdomen in hopes of reducing some of the strain on their small frame. While the tocolytic continues to stave off labor, the unfortunate reality is that the subject's body is not intended to carry such a large offspring, and Specimen 4582 has been continuously leaking amniotic fluid for the past few days. We may have no choice but to bring this experiment to a close sooner rather than later."

You should probably be worried about the things he's saying, but it's impossible to think straight when the Researcher is slowly plunging two of his fingers in and out of your hungry cunt. 

Everything about you is drawn tight and stretched to the max, leaving you feeling like a balloon pumped full of too much air. But your belly isn't full of air—it's full of a living, wriggling baby that continues pushing your physical boundaries past what you think you can handle. 

It's only thanks to the Researcher's care that you've been able to make it this far. 

With his fingers in your cunt and his bare cock rubbing over the overstretched skin of your aching middle, the entirety of your existence is centered on the man's twisted attention. All you can focus on is the unbearable pressure—the weight of the offspring inside you, the hungry void between your legs, the way your chest dribbles with every shallow, gasping breath. 

The Researcher looms over you, your god as much as he is your tormentor. The fingers inside of you are still buried deep, curling and stretching you open, while he grips the base of his cock and drags it along the taut curve of your belly. "According to my observations, it appears that Specimen 4582 is amenable to participating in a more manual approach to the induction of amniorrhexis. I will therefore begin the process now, and continue my notes once the procedure has concluded."

You haven't a clue what he's talking about, with all of those long, nonsensical words, but you are very well aware of the pulsating emptiness that fills you when he slowly withdraws his fingers. You whimper, the sound escaping before you can stop it. The loss of him is nearly unbearable, at least until his fingers are almost immediately replaced with the blunt pressure of something much larger against your sopping hole. 

"You're ready," he says, his voice cool and detached, as if he's stating a fact rather than an observation. 

Your body instinctively protests, your cunt clenching around nothing as if it could possibly hope to deny him entry. But all of the conditioning the Researcher has been subjecting you to has done its work too well. Your hips twitch forward, seeking more of him despite the muddled fear inspired by his overwhelming size. He's massive compared to you, with a cock thicker than your arm, and the thought of him pushing that thing into you should be terrifying. 

Instead, it sends a jolt of delirious need straight through your core.

He doesn't wait for permission—not that he ever has, nor could you give it even if you wanted to. With a firm grip on your hip, he pushes forward, the head of his cock stretching you open in one slow, deliberate motion. 

The sensation makes you cry out, your back trying and failing to arch beneath the impossible weight of your belly while your body struggles to accommodate him. Even with the lubricant and his careful movements, the stretch is still excruciating, your inner walls burning as they're forced to yield to his unnaturally large girth. But buried beneath the pain is a deep, aching pleasure, the kind that makes your impaired wings flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

"Relax," he commands.

You want to argue, to tell him that your body is simply not built to take someone of his proportions, but the words die in your throat as he pushes deeper. Your cunt spasms around him, trying in vain to adjust, but he doesn't stop. Inch by excruciatingly slow inch, he fills you, until you can feel the sheer mass of him lodged in your torso. You can feel every ridge, every vein, as he stretches you to your limits and beyond.

Gods, if you weren't already obscenely pregnant, you'd probably be able to see his cock bulging right through the skin of your abdomen.

Once he's fully sheathed inside you, the Researcher pauses to give you a moment to adjust. But it's not enough. Your body already felt overloaded by the offspring in your womb. Adding his cock on top of that makes you feel like your middle might split like an overripe fruit. You pant, sucking frantic, heaving breaths through lungs that barely have the room they need to expand, the restricted oxygen leaving you lightheaded. And yet there's still a strange, satisfying sense of fullness that makes your head spin. 

Then he moves.

The Researcher's first thrust is slow, careful, but it nevertheless drives more of the limited air from your lungs. Your cunt clutches at him, trying to hold on as he pulls back and pushes in again. The rhythm he sets is relentless, each stroke driving him deeper into you and making your enormous abdomen bounce hard enough to make you cry out in pain. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your ragged breathing and his occasional grunts, and the cage rattles as he fucks you with a precision that borders on heartless.

In the midst of it all, a visible bump rises just beneath your ribs, pushing out against the skin and slowly dragging along the dome of your stomach before vanishing. Then comes another shift, a hard, sudden jolt from the inside that leaves your flesh rippling, the curve distorting, like a wave rolling from one side to the other. A knee or an elbow –or some stubborn, unknown part– presses out and doesn't ease up, giving your womb a full-on shove. It's a slow, grinding push, as if the baby is stretching as far as possible in both directions at once, testing the boundaries of its prison. 

The ache is enough to leave you gasping. You're not sure how much more of this abuse your belly can take.

Still, the pleasure of being fucked builds quickly and distracts you from the pain, a coil tightening in your belly with every movement. The aphrodisiac amplifies every sensation, making it impossible to think of anything but the way he fills you, the way his cock rubs against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Your legs tremble, your toes curling as the tension in your body grows unbearable. Your hobbled wings shudder and twitch beneath you in anticipation of the rapture to come.

"You're close," he observes, his voice calm and clinical even as he fucks you with a ferocity that is far too much for a being of your size, the force of it leaving you gasping. "Good. Let it happen. Your body knows what to do."

You don't have a choice. 

The orgasm crashes over you without warning, your body convulsing as pleasure rips through you. Your cunt clenches around him, milking his cock as waves of ecstasy wash away your thoughts. You scream, the sound raw and unfiltered, as your body betrays you completely.

But he doesn't stop. If anything, he fucks you harder, driving into you with a fervor that makes your vision go white around the edges. The overstimulation is almost too much to bear, but you can't fight it. Your body responds eagerly, chasing the pleasure despite the pain.

And then it happens.

Your cunt gushes with liquid warmth, far too much for what you've just done. But rather than be deterred by it, the Researcher simply punches even further into your battered body and shudders, adding his own seed to the mess leaking out of you.

It's only then that he pauses to observe you, panting softly. "There you are," he murmurs, his fingers brushing over the swollen mass of your stomach, which has begun to tighten and clench in a way it never has before. "It seems that the procedure was successful."

You barely hear him. Your body is still trembling, your mind clouded by orgasm and exhaustion. But somewhere in the haze, a new kind of panic begins to set in. 

The baby is finally coming.

You just don't know what will happen now.

"Don't worry, little one," the Researcher says with a smile that's almost warm. "I promise I'll take care of you."