Delayed, Part 1 - Male Version

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Note: This is a male version of Delayed.

Summary: A man makes web cam videos, and is paid to display his  pregnancy online. The bigger he grows, the more money he makes. He  even takes drugs to delay labor to maximize his income, and promises his clients that he will give birth naturally, and livestream it. People even start  placing bets on the day he’ll finally give birth. The man  pushes himself to his absolute limit, and finally can’t hold his babies in any longer. He makes the final arrangements and gets ready to  induce himself, when suddenly, at the very last moment, an anonymous  follower offers him $10,000,000 to put off his delivery for another month, and sends an advance of $1,000,000 just so he knows he’s  serious. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.

-

“You like that?” said Peter breathily. He rubbed his hands over the heaving orb of his belly, smearing it with the fragrant oils. He didn’t always talk in his live streams. He supposed he was just in the mood that evening. “It’s just been so tightly lately. Only getting tighter. You can see the difference this week—how much it grew. Momma’s about to blow…”

Peter was pregnant with triplets—due, actually. His belly had gotten predictably large by the end of his third trimester. And his viewers loved it. He livestreamed as often as he could, often stripping down as far as his briefs. The videos had become a steady source of income throughout the pregnancy, and Peter was milking it for all it was worth.

His breasts had started growing in as well, getting ready to feed the babies. Peter had also noticed recent weight gain in his backside, though his belly continued to be his standout feature, huge and ripe, and ready to drop.

Peter ended the stream with a seductive, “until next time,” and a flirty smile. He leaned back for a moment, trying to collect his composure. He breathed evenly and glanced at the clock. There was just enough time  to get ready.

Peter wiped the oil off his belly with a towel before heaving himself up from the chair with a grunt. Clutching his mound, he waddled to the closet and browsed for a suitable outfit for his outing even though he just wanted to plop back down. Peter had always had a slim build, so the pregnancy sat quite heavily on his body.

He finally chose a button-down and maternity trousers he had purchased a few weeks earlier. He got dressed as quickly as his fatigued body would allow.

-

It was the best French restaurant in town. Of course, Peter had exquisite tastes. The waiter checked in with him every ten minutes, making sure that he had everything he needed. The waiter even treated them to free hors d’oeuvres.

Brad never took his hands off him, either holding Peter’s waist, his belly, or his shoulder, as though guiding him through every move. At twenty-seven, Brad was a year older than Peter was. He was attentive and loving, but also goofy and bashful, and he really did adore Peter. As far as boyfriends went, Brad was nearly perfect. He did his best to spoil Peter, even if he couldn’t necessarily afford it.

After dessert, Peter handed his credit card over to the waiter. He liked nice things and was willing to pay for them. It was why he worked so hard. With his upcoming birth, he knew this would be the end of his video income for a while, so it was nice to splurge. It felt good to be pampered. Everything was perfect.

While driving him home, Brad reached out and squeezed Peter’s hand. Peter could tell that Brad was getting sentimental. Peter smiled back, enjoying the cool evening breeze that flew in from the window. Their new lives were just ahead of them and Peter could hardly wait.

Brad pulled into the driveway and the sight on the porch drew Peter out of his blissful thoughts. Standing there was his ex-husband, Richard, looking rather haggard that evening as he clutched a toddler to either flank.

“You’re late,” Richard groused as Brad helped Peter to waddle over. Richard all but dumped the two infants into Brad’s arms. “The others are in the car. Can you unlock the door so we’re not trying to juggle them out here?”

Somewhat breathless, Peter obliged. He, Brad, and Richard proceeded into his living room with the twins, Richard making two more trips to his car to bring in the other three children.

The kids who weren’t wailing were babbling relentlessly. Peter developed an instant headache. He and Richard had decided to split custody of the children 50/50, at least until they started school. Brad awkwardly tried to console the twins in his arms, but it was useless.

“Mamamamamamama…” someone tugged Peter’s trousers. His shirt felt as though it was pasted to him by then, and he desperately wanted to lie down.

Peter turned to Richard, intending to curtly dismiss him, which was usually the best part of any night. Instead he found himself pausing as Richard eyed him, truly appraising, his gaze traveling down Peter’s burdened body then up again. Peter didn’t know why he blushed.

Richard wore a look of distaste. Grudgingly, he muttered, “Let me know if you need anything. When…”

“I’ll be fine,” Peter cut in breathlessly. “I have Brad,” he emphasized bitingly, grabbing hold of Brad’s arm.

Brad gave a nervous smile.

“Right,” said Richard, giving a doubtful look to the both of them. With a terse nod, he turned and left.

Peter sagged and sighed, again reflecting on how truly heavy he felt. Profitable as his condition was proving to be, it would be a relief to get these babies out of him. He felt stuffed tight, back sore and nipples stinging. “I need a seat.”

“Of course.” Brad lowered the toddlers and hurried to usher Peter to the couch.

Peter sagged back and wearily watched as Brad scurried about, attending to his and Richard’s five needy children.

Sometimes he would wonder if he had bitten off more than he could chew.

Then he would check his bank funds.

-

Peter tried to squeeze in as many livestreams as he could before the birth. Lately each of his videos was bringing in five grand, easily. The internet was full of perverts, and they all wanted to see his over-packed body. He adjusted the camera late that night. He hadn’t had the energy to squeeze into anything sexy. Instead he started a slow strip show, steadily doffing his pajama top, button after button, starting from the hem.

“Peter, what are you doing up?”

Peter gasped as the door to his office swung open. He quickly pulled his pajama top back around himself and minimized the video site on his computer. “N-nothing really. I think these triplets are nocturnal. Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go through some emails.”

Brad pulled up a chair beside him. “I hate to see you so exhausted,” he said, a frown pulling at his lips.

Peter gave a brave little shrug. “It’ll all be over soon, I guess.”

“And I can’t wait.” Brad dropped a kiss on his temple. Then another one, on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m glad you stayed over,” Peter murmured.

“Get used to it,” said Brad. “I’m almost finished packing up my apartment. After these babies come, you’re stuck with me full time.”

“Mmmmm.” Peter allowed Brad to kiss him all over.

“And you know I worry about you being alone in your condition.”

“Don’t,” Peter responded. “I’ve done this before, remember?”

“I guess you have.”

Brad drew him closer, and as awkward as it was with the mass of his belly, Peter settled against him, pressing as tight as possible. Any other occasion, Peter would have insisted that they go back to the bedroom together.

Brad didn’t know that the camera was still rolling.

Still kissing Brad, Peter directed his eyes to the computer. He reached out and shifted it slightly to ensure that the camera captured them fully. Brad pulled Peter almost roughly to his lap. Peter grunted and arched, pressing his huge belly harder into his boyfriend.

“Peter, they’re moving.”

Peter chuckled weakly.

“I can’t believe how fertile you are. Can’t believe what you’re doing for me.” Brad unbuttoned the rest of Peter’s top, beginning to nip at his tender breasts.

“Ahhhh…Brad…” Peter breathed, still somewhat preoccupied by the livestream.

Peter had never gotten fully nude for his viewership before. He never had even thought about having public sex on the feed.

Yet in his peripheral vision, he could see the view count rapidly climbing.

“Need you now,” he demanded.

Brad hurriedly began to get undressed.

-

The bigger Peter grew, the more money he seemed to make. His viewers wanted him to get bigger and bigger. A triplets-pregnancy making it to term was practically unheard of. Peter had started having Braxton hicks contractions nearly two months ago. That had scared him. Fortunately, it had taken only a decent bribe to a technician at the local pharmacy to secure several months supply of medication that would stop the Braxton hicks, in addition to any real contractions that might have come. Peter had been taking the medication ever since and it had certainly worked. He had successfully carried the triplets to term and continued to show no signs of labor.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. He had pushed his body to its limits. He felt tense, heavy, and exhausted, and the babies were beyond ready to be born. All three were big and healthy, and they squirmed relentlessly inside of him. He was bigger than he had ever thought he could possibly become. He carried the largest pregnancy he had ever personally experienced or seen, aside from the odd documentary of an expectant mother pregnant with quints or something.

Peter examined himself in the mirror that afternoon, drawing his large shirt up over his protruding midsection. His skin was clear and smooth, not a stretch mark in sight. He had to credit all the creams and oils he rubbed his skin with in his videos. Brad was also happy to provide Peter with massages whenever he could.

Brad was a good boyfriend. Peter was sure he would make a good father as well.

Peter decided that morning, to stop taking the labor-delaying drug. According to his online research, it would take two weeks for it to leave his system. Peter was nervous about the events to come. This was the first time he had promised his subscriber-base a live, natural birth. Though he was no stranger to having babies, he had never given birth outside of a hospital before. And he had certainly never given birth to oversized triplets.

So many people had signed up to view his labor, the web hosting company had contacted him regarding concerns about the whole site crashing. Measures were being taken. He was asked to put in a few extra dollars but it was nothing compared to the money he would make for the birth if everything went smoothly.

As he trailed his hands over his swollen mound, Peter wondered if he had gone too far. He should have timed things better—paid attention to the medication label. As delighted as his subscribers were to see his ever-increasing size, having overdue babies would increase the risk of complications. Overdue triplets just compounded things.

His followers were a diverse and intriguing group of people. A subset of them had actually started placing bets on when he would give birth. They didn’t know that a date had already been decided. Instead they bickered over it on the message boards. They discussed the size of his belly after every video, and whether it seemed particularly low or distended that day. They even talked about how engorged his breasts looked—just the thought made Peter redden. They conducted clinical observations of his body, and it often made him nervous to think about just how invested they truly were in his pregnancy.

The two weeks passed painfully slowly. Peter was accustomed to bemused looks in addition to those of intrigue when he left the house. Lately, people just looked at him with concern, while still tripping over their own feet to aid him in any way they could. The male pregnancy was still rare, it was becoming increasingly widespread and accepted over the last decade, with the current rate close to mimicking that of transgenderism in certain cities. On top of being an oddity in his suburban community, Peter knew he was getting massive. Again, he regretted timing things incorrectly. He should have stopped the drug earlier.

When Richard came by to pick up or drop off the kids, he just gave Peter a queer expression and shook his head in disbelief. A mid-thirties lawyer, Richard had a no-nonsense personality. Peter could practically hear his judgements. You have issues, Richards eyes accused, as though he knew what was going on. “I know you have a thing for being pregnant, but you’re really taking this to a whole new level, Pete.”

“Shut up, Richard,” Peter bit back. He was swollen and sweaty and had absolutely no patience for his nasty remarks. The stress of dealing with their five children was steadily pushing him past his limits.

Brad looked from Richard to Peter, utterly clueless.

“What did your doctor say?” Brad asked Richard had left. “Sorry I couldn’t make the last appointment, but—are you, you know, close? Your due date was almost two weeks ago. It can’t be good to be—”

“Everything’s fine,” said Peter impatiently, wobbling his way to a chair. He collapsed against it, puffing out forceful breaths as his huge belly heaved on his lap, the triplets lurching around inside it. “Sometimes these things take some time. Trust me Brad. I’ve done this before—remember?”

“You always remind me,” Brad nodded, but he looked dubious, nervous, and worried.

Of course, there had been no actual doctor’s appointment recently. Any physician in their right mind would have insisted on an immediate hospital birth. Peter still had every intention of giving birth at home, and on camera. He would make sure that Brad wasn’t around. He wouldn’t tell him a thing until the whole thing was over.

“Of course, Peter. You know what you’re doing,” Brad said, seemingly more to reassure himself than anything else.

“These are your first children. It’s overwhelming.”

“Heh, don’t worry about me,” said Brad, coming up behind Peter’s chair and rubbing his shoulders. “You’re the one doing all the work.”

Peter strained a smile and offered it up at him. “Don’t forget it.”