#multiple pregnancy

Pregnant Plum

“I love this sweater but… I feel a bit of a draft underneath with this enormous belly.”

I'm sure you could make this about a boy~

“ughhhh,” the boy groans, gripping the arms of his chair tightly as his belly quakes with movement. he’s learned not to touch it when they get like this—it only makes them worse. makes them feel more confined.

he stares down at his active belly in dismay. this was once a wanted pregnancy—a planned pregnancy, even. he thought he knew the love of his life. he thought he’d found someone to start a future with. have a baby with.

stupidly, he’d let them hit it raw until those two lines showed up on the test. stupidly, he’d been overjoyed.

but as he gained more symptoms, got bigger, the “love of his life” grew cold. it seemed that their interests lay more in the action that leads to a baby, rather than the growing of the baby itself.

he was gravid with triplets. there were certain positions he just couldn’t do anymore.

it all culminated when the boy walked (waddled, rather) into their bedroom after work once to find them rawing another boy, thin and not weighed down by kicky babies. he’d had suspicions for a while, but hadn’t wanted to believe them. even still, he devolved into sobs, begging his love to stay even in front of the other boy. collapsing against the wall and rubbing his burden of belly for comfort. that was when his love had left him, for good.

With the use of magic, your society had long ago relegated most childbearing duties to priests and priestesses of the various local fertility deities. Dedicated surrogates were able to carry vast numbers of children of all different fantasy races and gestation times, staying permanently pregnant and periodically birthing children in batches.

Your role in the temple is a vital one: you serve as the personal attendant to the temple's second highest ranking surrogate priestess, the beautiful elven woman Naia Springblossom. You're never away from her for longer than it takes to fetch her food or other objects, and spend most of your time in contact with her vast, active belly. You take care of all of the needs that the helplessly pregnant wood elf is unable to handle on her own, which is almost all of them.

You and your priestess are traveling back to your home temple from a meeting with the Archbishop. The immobile elf travels long distances in a plush palanquin, borne by magically animated golems. You're squeezed in with her, buried between the pile of soft pillows and the warm, heaving expanse of her womb. As Naia gets some rest, you snuggle and kiss the brown, lotion-scented orb, feeling the babies of all different shapes and sizes moving and kicking, jostling for space in her tightly-packed belly.

Feeling a wetness on your shoulder, you realize that the breast you're resting your head on has begun to leak. Each of her bosoms is the size of a blue-ribbon dairy cow's udder, and just as productive. The several gallons that she lactates per day are pumped and stored within the temple so they can be distributed to families to feed their newborns.

The uncomfortable fullness in her vast bosom and the sensation of wetness on her silken robe awakens Naia from her nap. As she rubs her eyes and yawns you greet her with kisses to the top of her belly. "Mmmmff... why did you let me sleep so long? My tits feel like overstuffed wineskins." she playfully complains. "You'd be even crankier if I woke you before you were ready" I reply, sitting up to pull the pump attachments down from the small chamber's ceiling. The palanquin quakes as she struggles to adjust her mountainous bulk, trying to situate herself comfortably in the pillow-lined box.

You suction the pumps onto her nipples and gently squeeze her to help get the milk flowing. She moans in relief, squeezing and rubbing her fat thighs together as her sensitive teats are suctioned and fondled. You massage her full breasts from the base, making sure she doesn't suffer from any clogged ducts. You can feel the movement in her belly intensifying, her brood responding to the stimulation with increased activity. Knowing exactly how much she craves intimate attention while being milked, you lean forward, squishing yourself into her sweaty cleavage to bring your head in range to plant a kiss on her plump, brown lips. She immediately grabs the back of your head and pulls you in close, parting your lips with her tongue. Pressed tightly against her belly, you know she can feel your rock-hard cock poking into her maternal swell.

The two of you passionately kiss and grope each other until the flow of milk from her enveloping udders starts to subside. You extricate yourself from the sweat-soaked cavern of her cleavage and pop the milking cups off her heavy udders. You take her fat nipple into your mouth and indulge in a taste of her sweet, rich milk. Lightly teasing her nipple with your teeth makes her gasp and moan. Staring at you with needy eyes, she beckons you over to her other side. You awkwardly climb around the immense bulk of her fertile swell and squeeze between her wide, ample butt and the chamber wall. She moans as you squeeze her always-sore shoulders, pressing and wiggling her fat hips against you. "Please..." she softly whimpers, and you know exactly what she's craving. Naia, having spent years bloated to utter helplessness with her surrogate brood, can't even come close to reaching her sensitively swollen pussy with her fat ass and turgid womb in the way. One of your most sacred duties is to keep her pleasured and satisifed, though you both sometimes enjoy teasing her, letting her squeeze a pillow between her legs while she begs and begs for you to satisfy the all-consuming ache in her dripping cunt.

"What does my poor, swollen broodmother need?" I tease.

"I need you," she whines, "Please, you know how I feel when I'm about to go into labor. "

You snake your hand down between her fat thighs, cupping and lightly squeezing her plump pussy mound. Your teasing makes her whimper and press hard against you, squishing your lower torso and hips against the wall and making your hard bulge press deeper into her soft cushion of a butt. You slip two fingers inside her dripping opening, varying your movements in and out of her while slowly increasing the tempo. When you can tell she's starting to get lost in the throes of pleasure you switch to pressing against her swollen clit, making circles around the sensitive nub with your fingers, then rubbing back and forth forcefully, eliciting stabs of pleasure that make her let out wordless vocalizations of bliss.

You feel that she's getting close, and ramp up the speed and pressure in preparation for putting her over the edge. "Cum for me, honey. My huge, perfect broodmother. Let all that pressure out." Her bucking hips smother you against the wall and her cunt soaks your arm with her cum as she cries out in pleasure.

You both relax in the afterglow, spooned together with your hand resting on her writhing womb. You never get tired of feeling the contrast between the light flutters of her smaller passengers and the thumping, uncomfortable kicks from the largest of her surrogate children, including an ogre, minotaur triplets, and a severely overdue centaur calf. Your bliss is interrupted as Naia is suddenly overcome with a massive contraction, making the whole palanquin seem to quake as her overfilled womb stretches and shifts.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you were about to go into labor. Please try to hold them in until we get home."