Uncle

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Idea submitted by obsidiantigr: (Scientific) Uncle gets custody of nephew and proceeds to fatten/impregnate him while also lusting after him.

-

Connor and his uncle Ted weren’t technically related, at least not by blood. Ted had been married to Connor’s aunt before her passing. The man had taken Connor in just before his eighteenth birthday. Not many guys would do that for a distant relative they barely even knew.

Connor was appreciative, of course. The alternative to living with his uncle had been brief placement in the orphanage system followed by homelessness on his eighteenth birthday. Connor’s parents hadn’t had any savings for Connor to inherit. Their net worth had been in the negative when the car crash occurred. Connor was just lucky not to be on the streets.

There wasn’t much that Connor remembered about Ted from childhood. His mother had always characterized her sister’s husband as a “mad scientist,” and Ted’s visits had been scarce. Connor only realized how literal his mother had been in her remarks after a few months living at Ted’s small cottage.

Ted’s neurotic mutterings were particularly tenacious that afternoon. Connor had gotten used to it, and hardly even noticed it anymore. Ted was always calling Connor things like, “the perfect specimen,” and, “a fitting subject.” Connor saw his uncle’s idiosyncrasies kind of like a joke. He didn’t mind them. His uncle was anally retentive, and was always so specific about Connor’s diet. The man dictated everything Connor ate and drank, even supplying Connor with a carefully measured protein shake every morning.

In the afternoons, there were juices, tonics, and waters with weird aftertastes. After a few months of this, Connor noticed he was getting a little pudgy, but could hardly worry about that between all his college coursework and part-time gigs. He distractedly downed the latest beverage his uncle handed over to him, and instantly felt dizzy. The world swam.

When Connor awoke the following day, his life had changed substantially. He felt lethargic, his head was pounding, and there was now a…bump. A clear bulge on his lower abdomen.

It took another couple of weeks before Connor could actually accept that he was somehow, inexplicably, pregnant. Eighteen. Male. And pregnant.

-

“We’re going to have to cut you from the team.”

Connor’s face was still flushed and sweaty from the track meet. His side was aching and he could barely stand upright, instead leaning on the office wall and clutching his knees. He didn’t even bother to look up as coach spoke. This news wasn’t surprising. Connor had dropped his hopes of gaining a track scholarship after…well, after the first ten pounds of baby weight.

“You’ve…gotten slow,” Coach said, which was a polite way of putting it. Connor could feel the other man’s gaze on his abdomen.

Connor was too numb to be frustrated anymore. And he couldn’t deny that it had been getting harder, trying to jog with his belly rocking, his lungs feeling compressed in his chest. This had been inevitable.

“Okay,” Connor said simply, managing to heave up his duffel bag and walk out of the office. He ignored his half-dressed peers as he trudged through the locker room, not bothering to shower or change out of his sweaty track clothes. He didn’t do that in public anymore. He would get cleaned up when he got home.

Track didn’t matter anyway. Connor would focus more on his grades now. He liked to think that he took his education seriously, even despite being in a budget community college. Advancement was critical to his ambitions. And his sole goal at that moment was independence. Escape.

Connor stood outside the campus building, apart from other students who were waiting for rides. Uncle Ted’s brown sedan pulled up at five on the dot, as usual. Connor got into the passenger seat.

The hoodie Connor was wearing was getting too tight on him, but he had a hard time getting his uncle to give him money for clothes. Ted’s bizarre experiments weren’t exactly well-funded.

Ted gave Connor a glance. “Your navel is protruding.”

Connor winced. Hence the need for a sweatshirt. He had awoken that morning to the unpleasant surprise of a popped-out belly button. Not exactly discreet.

“That’s because of increased pressure on the abdominal wall. It usually occurs later in pregnancy, but you have been growing quite a lot lately.” Ted pulled off the curb.

Connor ignored him.

“Your backside is starting to grow as well.”

Connor cringed, not wanting to think about how tight his pants were getting lately.

“It’s in preparation for birth,” Ted continued, either oblivious or unconcerned to Connors clear discomfort.

That was another thing. One that Connor could hardly comprehend. He was supposedly going to give birth naturally. Which was so ludicrous and terrifying, he didn’t think about that either.

When they got home, dinner was already prepared. Connor mechanically pulled the dishes out of the oven, where they were warm and waiting. He set everything on the table, dish by dish, and took a moment to survey everything. There was a whole rotisserie chicken, a mound of mashed potatoes with gravy, a large bowl of macaroni and cheese, a pile of rice, and a whole apple pie on the side. The meals were always large and starchy, usually fit for several people. Connor estimated that this one could’ve fed four easily.

But Connor was under Ted’s roof, so he played by Ted’s rules. He might’ve been eighteen, but that didn’t change the fact that he was at Ted’s mercy. And though Connor had never consented to being experimented on, it was a little late to opt out. He didn’t even know what that would look like. He just felt stunned, trapped, and his only way forward was to just follow through with his plan.

After dinner, Connor gulped down his evening protein shake with a pile of pills that had been waiting in a small cup on the table. Connor estimated that he now consumed twenty-five pills a day, between his morning and evening doses. He didn’t know what they were all for, but didn’t ask. Like the shakes and juices, it was all just part of the treatment. Connor had mastered this routine. He felt like he was getting bigger every day. But he was resigned. He just pushed his way through it, so he could move on to more productive things.

The dinner process had taken about an hour, by which point Connor was panting. As usual, uncle Ted sat nearby watching the whole thing. Connor was just about to get up from his chair, went Ted ordered, “finish your dessert.”

Connor looked down to notice that he had left a particularly large crumb of apple pie in his dish. He reached down with a trembling hand and popped it into his mouth, gulping.

He wiped his face with his napkin, then pressed his hands into the tabletop as he stood. Thankfully, he wasn’t responsible for cleanup after his meals. Connor slowly made his way to his bedroom, resisting the urge to cup his tight belly.

He had to lie down. In the beginning, he would just pass out for the whole night, but now if he lay down for an hour, he regained himself enough to do some school work, and other things. So he lay in bed, breathing, and even dozed a little. When the discomfort was no longer to severe, he managed to get up.

Connor went down to the garage. Prior to the pregnancy, he had salvaged a car frame from the nearby junkyard and had managed to put most of it together. It was almost done.

Connor worked on it for a couple of hours. It was a project, and one he enjoyed. It just needed a little more work. Connor lost himself in his efforts.

“Connor, that’s enough for tonight.”

Connor snapped out of his reverie. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he was currently under the sedan, his back throbbing from his position. He wheeled himself out from beneath the car. His whole torso was smeared in grease, his t-shirt having ridden up over his rounded belly. Connor tugged it down, but he knew the too-tight cotton wasn’t hiding anything. Connor fumbled awkwardly to get himself seated upright.

As he often did, Ted was staring indulgently. His gaze wasn’t on Connor’s belly this time, but his chest and the recent development there. Connor felt his cheeks redden.

Ted finally raised his gaze to Connor’s eyes. “Go to bed. You need rest.”

Connor nodded obediently.

When his uncle left, Connor sighed, and steadily got himself to his feet with the car for support. He couldn’t believe how awkward his body was getting. He was never going to get used to it.

-

The following morning, uncle Ted did a physical exam on Connor in his home office. He usually did them biweekly. The exams were becoming more awkward and embarrassing. The more he grew the more Connor dreaded them.

The exam was thorough. Ted took Connor’s vitals and measured his body.

“Six pounds since last time,” Ted’s tone was impressed as he read the scale.

Connor tried not to grimace.

Ted pulled out the measuring tape, and Connor took the cue to draw his shirt up, giving his uncle access to his round, protruding belly. Connor thought he looked pretty far along. Some of his classmates had taken to staring at the growth of his midsection.

His uncle gave a satisfied hum and started taking more measurements. Sometimes he would frown, and other times he would laugh delightedly. When Connor was instructed to fully take off his shirt, Connor did so grudgingly.

“The treatments are working,” his uncle observed.

Connors nipples had swollen to at least double their size, and his chest had developed a padding of fat. Two mounds were growing there—a small pair of breasts. Ted wanted to make Connor’s chest “fully functional.” Eventually he wanted Connor to actually be able to…lactate.

Ted touched one of the small mounds, causing Connor to shudder. He squeezed a nipple, and it took all of Connor’s effort not to groan. They were so sensitive, he could hardly stand how they rubbed into his shirts.

Thankfully, his uncle moved on. He observed Connor’s hips, wrapping the measuring tape about them.

“And your buttocks have grown at least two inches. Look at you, becoming the perfect breeder. Get on the bed.”

Connor did as instructed, lying back on the medical bed set up in the middle of the room.

Ted ran a sonogram. He had done it once before. Connor wrinkled his nose through the uncomfortable sensation of the probe rubbing into his bloated flesh.

“Ah yes, one here. And there’s one right here.” Ted moved the probe, his face bright with glee. He shifted the instrument from Connors side to below his navel. “And this one is quite cozy here. Always curled right here, compressing your bladder. I noticed your urination rate has been quite frequent.”

Connor closed his eyes, trying to drown his uncle out by thinking of schoolwork. Evidently he was having multiples, and Connor had never had the nerve to ask how many, exactly. Or even how far along he was. Maybe fewer details would make it easier to get through this all.

-

“The results were promising. But I would still like to adjust your levels. Perhaps an increase of hormone Zed-37,” Ted was rambling, not even being discreet about what he was putting in the protein shakes. Connor wasn’t even sure if protein was involved. Ted stood at the kitchen counter with a variety of canisters, pill bottles, some heavy cream, butter, and even a tub of lard. He was putting generous portions of everything into the blender, and pouring copious amounts of some powder on top.

Connor tried to ignore him as he went about his morning routine. He forced down his large breakfast of eight eggs with cheese, four thick fluffy pancakes, and some sausages with potato. The breakfast was heavy, but it usually wasn’t as bad as dinner, so Connor was able to get through with the rest of the day without feeling too lethargic. He gulped down the shake his uncle had set on the table waiting for him, choked down his handful of pills, and left his uncle to his recipes.

On Thursdays, Connor got a ride to campus with his classmate, Peter. He and Peter weren’t close, but they were in the same Engineering course, so they often shared notes.

Connor sat in the passenger seat with his chin in his hand, gazing blankly out his window as the world sped by. He didn’t realize the way his free hand was cupping his swollen belly. There had been a lot of churning lately.

“You okay?” Peter asked.

“Huh?” said Connor.

“It’s just…you seem different lately.”

“Yeah.” That was all Connor said. He didn’t try to explain the rapid weight gain. Or his resignation. He just left Peter’s remark hanging awkwardly between them.

It was only after they had parked and Connor was walking into the building that he realized he had forgotten to take his midday shake. His uncle would not be happy. Ted was really trying to get Connor's weight up, and could hardly tolerate if Connor skipped out on one bite of food.

Connor couldn’t linger on this for long. It was the end of the fall semester, and he had finals. Most of the day was spent taking tests. In the afternoon, Connor was midway through a particularly grueling calculus exam, when his professor received a call on the classroom phone. A moment later, Connor was being sent outside, supposedly to deal with a family emergency.

Uncle Ted’s car was waiting by the curb. Connor hesitated, but dutifully went inside. “Is everything okay?” His uncle did not seem ill, but rather testy.

“You forgot to take your afternoon supplement shake,” Ted said. “I left it in the fridge for you, in the water bottle. You do remember we increased the dosage last week? We cannot allow your levels to drop. You’re jeopardizing this whole experiment.”

Connor tried to apologize, but his uncle had leaned over to the back seat and was fumbling with something. Arduously, he retrieved a gallon-sized jug filled with white fluid. Connor could tell that it was thick by the way it slopped against the sides of the container. It was the shake, but a much larger amount than the 18 ounces Connor was used to drinking around this time.

“I made this version hyper-concentrated,” Ted explained as he unscrewed the cap. “Loaded with hormones, fertility drugs, weight gain agents, in addition to the cream, sugar, lard, butter, all the usual stuff. Drink it now.”

Connor stared. “I’m in the middle of an exam,” he tried to protest.

“This is not a negotiation,” Ted said, offering the gallon over. “I fund your schooling, and this is how you repay me? By trying to ruin everything!?”

Connor could see Ted’s temper rising, and he didn’t want things to get out of control. He accepted the gallon and brought it to his lips, starting to drink without thinking. His face twisted in disgust. The taste was awful, and the substance was thick, gelatinous, oily, and lumpy. Every swallow hit his stomach so heavily he found himself squirming. But he drank on, forcing it down, gulp after gulp, moaning between his brief pauses, but he had to do this fast, or he was going to vomit. And he had to get back to his exam. Connor drank till his belly was so tight it started to hurt. Then he drank some more.

When he finished the gallon, he was sweating and gasping. His face was flushed and he was struggling not to retch. There were five minutes where he just sat there covering his mouth, unable to speak or move. His sweatshirt felt tighter than before.

Ted seemed amused now. “Look at you. Goodness, it’s like you’re in labor. Oh, but you have a long way to go.” Ted reached out and cupped the swell. “Promise me you’ll never do that again.” Ted’s thumb idly circled Connors bulging belly button.

“I w-won’t...” Connor managed. He was so tight, he felt close to tears. “Can I…can I get back to my test?” he managed.

Ted hesitated. “Maybe you should just come home…” Now he was stroking Connors full swell. Connor felt as though the mound was pulsating. The idea of taking a nap was brutally appealing.

“I’m almost done,” Connor assured. “Just…nghhh…just another hour.”

Finally, Ted nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”

Connor didn’t know how he got out of the car and staggered back to his classroom, but he did. Trembling and sweating, he scribbled his way through the remainder of his exam, all while breathing so heavily several nearby classmates glared. But he managed to finish. He handed his paper in and gingerly left classroom, his hands cupping at his belly, rubbing into the heated flesh. He practically staggered back to the car, where he eased himself down then slumped back, panting.

“You don’t usually touch it,” Ted noted.

Connor just closed his eyes.

“Look how rapidly you’re growing. This is astounding.”

Connor groaned. Was…he really growing? Right now? His uncle was always so clinical and specific in his observations, so Connor didn’t doubt it. If anything, he felt tight to bursting. He opened one eye and stared at his swell in trepidation. It was heaving up and down with his heavy breathing, and it did look particularly huge at that moment.

Ted looked quite satisfied.

When they got home, Connor slept for a full day, not without his uncle waking him every few hours to pour food and shakes down his throat. Connor diligently consumed everything.

He just had to get through this. After that, he would be free.