Good Girl, Part 2

Story Tier Prompt for Allornone

NOTE: This Allornone's July prompt. The previous part was an overdue June prompt.

Rebecca is a brillliant student with plain looks, with dreams of becoming an engineer. Relationships are not on the cards, let alone family planning, but when a jealous student spikes her with a hormonal compound, she finds her mind becoming increasingly occupied with having sex and making babies.

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Good Girl, Part 2

The pressure was enormous. Her legs spread wide as her stomach tightened.

“Push Becca, you can do this! Just push!”

“NNGGRRHGH!”

Becca strained as she leaned back, her enormous belly a week overdue with her little daughter. She was so excited to meet her, but even amidst the pain, she knew she would miss being pregnant. The last nine months had been the best of her life, feeling new life grow within her, the little shifts and kicks of her developing baby, her own body becoming mature and maternal in preparation for life after birth. It had been magnificent, feeling her already-sizable breasts swell with milk, her hips widening, her entire form rounding out as if she were a living fertility statue. Even this pain, right now, was worth it, the culmination of her journey to motherhood. She spread her legs wider and held her gravid stomach, feeling the muscles of her womb contract, forcing her daughter downwards, head beginning to part her passage. She groaned in pain and anticipation.

“Oohhhhh . . . Arrrghh! H-how c-close?”

“Not long now, we can almost see the head.”

The nurse smiled at her, holding her hand. The father was not at her side, and Becca didn’t want him there. She had never told Rob that he was a father, and had no interest in doing so. This baby was hers and hers alone, he was simply the fuel for the bub that had cooked in her oven. A one night stand to procure this end, though she’d had many one night stands since. Her body, after all, was fertile beyond all belief, and whatever strange second puberty had altered her had left her needy for sex, even as she went well into her third trimester. Thankfully, her incredibly enhanced looks and bountiful bosom, and general maternal curves as well enticed many men. And, she was surprised to find, a lot of men had a real kink for a sexy pregnant woman, especially since they could go bareback on her. It got to the point where she almost felt a little crazy if she didn’t have sex at least three or four times a week, and more when she was in that gloriously energetic second trimester.

But that journey was at its end now. Becca panted, her curvy body coated in a fine sheen of sweat, her breasts wobbling on her chest with every movement. God, she felt so damn full, and her nipples burned slightly, as if aching to feed her coming child. She grunted, pushing harder, awaiting the moment her life would change forever.

“Oh Goooood, I can FEEL HER COMING!”

And she herself was beginning to come in an altogether different sense. To Becca’s shock and red-faced embarrassment, her loins began to tingle pleasurably, even through the pain of her baby entering her passage. She moaned in near-orgasmic delight, curling her toes as her vaginal tunnel was spread wide, and her baby began to exit her. Something about birthing felt so damn good in a way that was impossible to quantify. She shivered and bit her lip, but found it impossible not to moan more.

“Ooohhh . . . aahhhh . . . MhhmHHHM!”

The nurse’s eyes went wide, her eyebrows just about hitting the top of her scalp.

“Oh my dear, that’s . . . not common!”

“S-sorry!” Becca managed, as she felt the head slip from her into the doctor’s waiting hands, “it j-just feels so gooooood!”

The nurse chuckled. “Don’t be sorry hun, I’m jealous! None of my four ever made me feel like that! Just one more push hun!”

Becca leaned into the feelings, and savoured the sweet taste of pleasure that came from the final tug of muscle. She gasped as her baby exited her, into the doctor’s hands, who proceeded to check her over. Becca was overwhelmed by emotion - she’d found ever since her strange change over nine months ago that her hormones were much more powerful - and tears leaked from her eyes. She wanted to hold her baby, and her enormous E-cup breasts were engorged with milk to feed her. The medical team gave the baby the usual quick tests, then helped place her carefully upon Becca’s chest. Her skin was still red and purplish in colour, her features bruised and tiny, and there was still mucus-like gunk on her skin like a light film. And despite all that, she was the most beautiful thing Becca had ever seen. She wept as she took her child.

“Congratulations, a perfectly healthy girl,” someone said. “Do you know what you’re going to name her?”

Becca had gone through lists and lists of names, but none of them seemed right just as this moment. There was only one name that perfectly encapsulated this perfect little being.

“Joy,” Becca said, choking back a happy sob, “her name is Joy.”

She took her baby to her breast, and sighed in relief as Joy began to relieve the pressure there.

“I love you Joy,” she said, “so, so much. And I can’t wait to give you some little brothers and sisters.”

Five Years Later . . .

Becca cooed as she bounced upon Damian’s lap. He was a tall, strong, hunk of a man, and it did wonders for her level of horniness, particularly as she was in the very needy stage of the second trimester once more. He grasped at her breasts, now mammoth H-cups, constantly full of milk. They were full even now, and as she took his girth inside of her and bounced on his hips, he slowed their pace so he could reach around and suck her right nipple.

“Ohhhh f-fuuucck that’s good!” she moaned, as a stream of milk ran into his mouth. It was almost orgasmic in of itself. He drank his fill.

“Mmmhh . . . the other s-side too, p-please! Still f-full there.”

She could hear him chuckle, even amid the grunts of his gentle, wonderful thrusting.

“You are so goddamn hot,” he said, “fuck I’m close to coming!”

“N-not till you even me out,” she demanded, shifting to her right so he could reach around to suckle at her left breast. It was even better than on the right, she hadn’t realised how close to leaking she’d been. Damian gripped her other breast in his hand, and the combined pleasure of having three erogenous zones catered to was enough to send her straight over the edge. She arched her back in orgasm, each one rolling over her like a series of ocean waves. She clutched her rounded dome of a belly, gasping in joy as her core was overcome with ecstasy.

“NNggghhaaaahhhhh!”

It was a wail, and for a brief moment she was terrified she had woken the kids, but thankfully she’d ensured that this room was fairly soundproofed. It wouldn’t do to have eight crying children shocked at being woken in the night, even if most of them had their own rooms.

A final three thrusts, and Damian came too, clutching her belly also. She loved how much he loved the curves of her. It was why he was one of her regular booty calls, though she was always careful to be pregnant when they went at it; Damian had no interest in being a father, and she wouldn’t want a man in her life that tried to muscle in on her single parenthood. He pulled her face closer in the moment, and they kissed deeply again, her full and luscious lips on his.

***

“Seriously Becca, how come you’re always getting so pregnant?” Damian asked.

It was over an hour later, and he was dressed and getting ready to leave. It was late, after all, and while the kids loved their ‘uncle Damian’, it was certainly a full-on experience for an outsider to be in a house with eight children of different ages clambering about. She was dressed again too in her usual wear; a smart maternity top that pushed her massive mammaries up in a deep line of cleavage, her breasts like melons threatening to spill out of the generous cups. She also wore some supportive pants that helped reduce the pressure of her belly, which was an important thing for her, gravid as she always was.

“I don’t really know, I guess I’m sort of just addicted to it,” she answered in her sultry, seductive tone, “I love being full of men’s babies. Mom and Dad can’t understand it, and I can’t even either. I never wanted babies before, and I didn’t even pursue relationships or even sex until my early twenties.”

“What changed?” Damian asked, running his hand over her taut belly. She slapped him away playfully.

“Stop! Little bub is asleep in there now. As for what changed, it started five years ago when I was at university in my engineering course. I used to look a lot different. Here, I’ve got a photo.”

She brought up an image on her phone, and Damian’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit, you used to look like that!? I mean, no offence, you look good there, but not so, well . . .”

“Busty? Preggo?”

“I was going to say ‘curvy’?”

She chuckled. “It all happened very oddly. One day I was like that, and the next it was like a switch had flipped. I remember it was the day after I chatted to another engineering student, Mark Hopkins. Do you remember him from your time there? Anyway, the next day, suddenly, I was feeling horny . . .”

She regaled him with the story, from start to finish. How her breasts had swelled to Double-D cups, how her hips had broadened to become child-bearing, how even her face had changed, her entire body becoming fertile and needing to be full with life. And how ever since that day, that need to be impregnated had never stopped, as if it were on an instinctual, biological level. How after Joy, her beautiful little five-year old, she’d gone out and gotten pregnant again only a month later, this time with her sweet twins, Timothy and Holly. And how that cycle had repeated ever since, until she had produced eight wonderful babies in less than six years, and was already pregnant with another, and would go on getting pregnant so long as her strange need lasted. She told him of how she’d managed to finish her degree despite her changed lifestyle, and that though she was hornier and more maternal than she’d ever imagined, she was able to work from home at one of the largest engineering companies in the world, and was earning well into a six-figure salary due to her impressive contributions and work ethic. It had allowed her to pay for childcare when necessary, and for babysitters on nights she needed to go out on dates with various men, and generally the enormous costs of having so many children as a single mother. It had been tiring, but entirely worth it, even as her breasts had swollen to heavy H-cups that dominated her chest, or how her hips and ass were more enticingly rounded than ever.

The entire time she gave the story, the first time she had ever told it in full to someone, Damian was entirely silent, and listening closely. She finished it, mentioning off-handedly “I’ll probably just keep getting pregnant till I’m forty five and hit menopause. I can’t fight the need, and I don’t want to. I love getting knocked up and having a big belly too much.”

Daman was quiet, and was having difficulty looking at her.

“What’s up?” she asked. “I know it’s weird. But I’m doing okay for myself, and I’ve got hot men like you to help me feel better when it all becomes a bit much.”

He turned to her. “Becca, you said you spoke to Mark Hopkins before this all happened?”

“Yes, I only remember it for what happened next.”

“You remember that I was a student in the genetics lab around that time?”

“Mhm. So?”

He appeared to be deep in thought, connecting several dots in his head. “So, was this around mid-March of that year?”

“Yeah, how’d you guess that?”

He sighed, and placed a hand on her burgeoning belly. It comforted her. “Because that was around the time that a student by the name of Charlie Walks got expelled for stealing some experimental hormonal compounds from the lab. The compounds were never found, but they related to feminine hormone production. It was all hushed up.”

Becca gave a sharp intake of breath. “No, look, that doesn’t make sense. I never met that guy Charlie-”

“-but you met Mark Hopkins. Mark was Charlie’s best friend. They were always together on campus.”

A single tear ran down Becca’s face. “I - I remember once that Mark said he was jealous of me, because I was the head of the class. Oh God, so this wasn’t just a weird hormonal late puberty development or something. You’re saying I was dosed with hormones?”

“It would be impossible to prove, but I think so.”

Becca was breathing heavily. Inside her womb, she could feel her child stirring, agitated a little by her anxiety and confusion. She looked up the long hallway of her large home, where a number of rooms contained her sleeping children, the furthest away being her first-born, Joy, and the closest containing Adam, who would need feeding within the hour.

“Holy shit,” she said. “He did this to me. I’m like this, because of him? I . . . think it’s best you go Daman. I’m going to need some time to process this. Please.”

Damian left, bidding goodbye and obviously looking uncomfortable. She kissed him deeply before he left, and went to feed Adam, enjoying the sensation of expressing milk to her child even despite her own shock. The knowledge that this fate was inflicted upon her tormented her. Was her enjoyment real, or just artificially induced?

She went to bed with that very question turning in her mind, cradling her swelling baby bump, and trying to force down her excitement over it until she knew for sure.

***

The drive to Mark Hopkins’ house was only forty-five minutes away. It had taken some time to organise supervision of her olders, but thankfully her parents were in town. Much as they were still a little uncertain of their daughter’s utterly changed, very reproductive lifestyle, they adored each of their grandchildren, and that was enough to mend any minor tears in their relationship.

And so she drove in her family van, a twelve-seater that was a product of thinking ahead to when she had expanded her family even further. Only her youngest, Adam, was in a capsule behind her, as he fed irregularly. Him and, of course, her young one still inside her belly, already kicking at her kidneys like a miniature athlete. She drove, a little uncertain as to how this confrontation would go, and her mind wandered to the last six years of her life, and how much they had been dominated by ‘need to breed’ as she had once playfully called it. How much would her life be different if she had never been dosed by a jealous student? It was unimaginable.

The neighbourhood she entered was less affluent than she would have expected. Not bad, but given Mark’s own quest to become a successful engineer at all costs, she had expected a parade of mansions. The houses here was much smaller than her own. She checked the address she had gotten from Damian, who had sourced it from an old university buddy. Shrugging, she found a spot to park her large car, and hauled her pregnant body out. She removed Adam’s capsule, and smiled deeply at how her adorable little boy was still utterly asleep. She assembled the stroller, and placed his capsule within it, checking over to secure it, before beginning to walk down the footpath.

As she moved down the street, checking the house numbers, she noticed she was drawing some attention. Despite her anxiety over the upcoming meeting, she couldn’t help but enjoy the way several men out on their decks admired her shapely form, and made sure to sashay her wide hips just that little more as she walked. Even with her shapely bump - and many suburban guys seemed to have a thing for that anyway - her large bouncing breasts were more than enough to make it hard for men to look her in the eyes.

“Morning, boys!” she called out, and several of them gave enthusiastic replies to her.

But that brief boost of confidence ended as she reached the front door of Mark’s home. She was unsure if he was even home, or what could even come of this meeting. Was a cure possible? Did she even want a cure? Had he done it just out of jealousy? She knocked three times on the door, and waited as little Adam fussed.

“Timing, little one,” she said with a smirk, reaching to pull him into her arms. She felt over her large breasts; as usual, the left side of her ‘girls’ needed the more relieving of the two. She lowered her maternity top on that side, and let him drink deep, sighing as he began to empty her.

The door opened, and she cursed the timing. Mark Hopkins was on the other side of it. He was visibly older, and seemed to be suffering some early baldness despite being in his late twenties, and he’d grown a beard. But it was undeniably the same man. Bad enough to have him see her looking like the busty, insatiably horny woman he’d turned her into. Bad enough that she was already visibly heavy with pregnancy, child stirring in her womb. No, of course he had to see her with a baby feeding at her gigantic breast, the very image of motherhood before him. His eyes opened wide as he saw her.

“Holy crap, Rebecca, is that you?”

“I go by Becca now. Hello Mark.”

He appeared flustered, his face already going red. “Um, what brings you to my neighborhood?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think you know.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by -”

“- I mean this, Mark,” she said, gesturing to her gravid stomach that rounded out her pretty pink maternity dress.

Mark scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. More than embarrassed. Humiliated.

“Oh, so you know then.”

She lowered Adam from her boob and placed him, already falling back asleep, into his capsule. She didn’t care that he could see her enormous breasts. Loads of people saw her this way; she was often breastfeeding in public. Besides, he needed to see what he’d made her into.

“Yeah, I know. I learned it from a friend. It’s been five years, and you never told me. You turned me into a big-titted bimbo obsessed with making babies. Why?”

Mark sighed. “Fuck. It was a lifetime ago for me. I still can’t believe I did it. I wanted better scores, and I was jealous of you. We all were, but me most of all. I wanted to take you down a peg. Charlie was a friend who owed me a favour. I thought if I could turn you into some breeder bitch then -”

“Excuse me! A what!?” Becca reared up, feeling surprisingly dominant and protective at that insult. Mark flustered, clearly a little intimidated, her belly almost pushing against him.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was the way I thought at the time.”

“You’re telling me that you turned me into this, all because you were jealous of me?”

“Didn’t work out anyway,” he said, whining a little. “I didn’t end up top of the class. You still did, somehow. And I barely got a passing grade after all the Charlie Walks expulsion stuff. I barely make enough to afford the mortgage payments on the house.”

She creased her brow, caressing her gravid stomach as she did.

“I thought you were an engineer?”

He scoffed. “Not a well-paid one. They only pay the really good ones the big salaries. But then I guess you’ve been out of the field for some time, so you wouldn’t know.”

A surge of pride overcame her, as it slowly dawned on her just how much she had succeeded in life, even with the condition foisted upon her, as compared with someone like Mark. She turned to leave.

“Well, have a good day Mark.”

“Wait, that’s it? You stop by to just confirm it was me? Am I being taped?”

“Nope,” she said, starting to smile, “I just wanted to hear you admit it. And it also serves as a catharsis to me. You see, I only just recently found out that you’re the reason for my condition. The reason I’ve got these big tits and wide hips, why I’m so horny all the time, and why I have this constant aching need to always be pregnant. I’ve spent the last six years of my life pretty much always pregnant thanks to you, Mark. I haven’t even experienced a single period in that time, that’s how in need of getting knocked up you’ve made me. It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? I guess that’s what you intended.”

She lowered her hands to her belly again, and felt at the wonderful dome on her body. It felt marvellous.

“But it seems you failed there. I love being pregnant, Mark. And I love being a mother even more. I’ve got eight wonderful, beautiful, crazy children, and another on the way, and I couldn’t be happier. And I can take care of them all because even though I’m a single mother with a ton of kids, I earn a damn good salary as the chief engineer of the best damn engineering company in the country. You know the one I mean.”

His eyebrows raised, and she could sense the shock radiate from him.

“No, no way.”

She was beaming openly now, utterly smug. “Yes, way. And while the trajectory you put me on is a lot more . . . reproductive, than I was planning, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like making babies, and I don’t think I could stop making them even if I wanted to. And thanks to my job, I never have to worry about needing a man permanently by my side or sacrificing for repayments or childcare arrangements, ever. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, thank you Mark. You may have been a manipulative bully trying to tear me down, but you’ve made my life better than I could have dreamed.”

She put her handbag up over her arm, and took the stroller in her spare hand. She turned to the side, allowing Mark to see her busty, pregnant profile in her hot pink maternity dress that pulled tightly around her waist and chest.

“Now, if you don’t mind, talking to you has helped me settle my mind on who I am. I’m going back now to see my babies, and tonight I think I’ll find a nice, hot man to make me feel even more fulfilled. Have a good day, Mark.”

She walked away, waddling slightly as she left her victimiser staring in shock and exasperation as she passed. Becca felt more amazing than she had in a while. She no longer cared that this situation was thrust upon her, she relished it instead. She was young, she was beautiful, she was incredibly busty and oh-so-wonderfully pregnant. And she was more determined than ever to keep having babies, babies, and more babies, so long as her fertile body was able. She longed to fill her house with children, and never stop the miracle of having new life stir and shift inside her belly. She beamed as she got in the car, readying to head home, Adam asleep once more behind her.

“I can’t wait to meet you, little one,” she said, patting her stomach as it rested on her thick thighs. “And all your little brothers and sisters to come.”

She drove off, thinking idly and hopefully on just how many more babies she would be able to make. She was only twenty-six years old, after all: so many breeding years ahead of her.

“Plenty of time left for this baby factory,” she said. And as if in agreement, her still-developing children kicked within her. Becca smiled, and drove on home.

The End