The Fruit, Part 7 - Male Version

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Note: This is a male version of The Fruit.

Summary: After being stranded on a deserted island, a group of men discover that there is only one source of food, and it is reproduced in the strangest of ways. Inspired by “A Most Peculiar Pregnancy in Paradise” by The Lurker At The Threshold. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, and more.

Previous Chapter

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The next day he looked like he had a full-grown man curled inside of him.

His belly was beginning to take on the shape of a fat, massive lemon, his belly button pointing downwards somewhat.

And large as he was, he couldn’t sit still. It took some effort (and assistance) for him to climb up on his feet. Once there, he sweated and panted as he held the underside of his belly with one hand and his back with the other. “Ahhhhh…unghhhh…” he groaned, and Charles helped him back down to his knees.

What if they had pushed him too far this time? What if his body couldn’t handle such a great harvest of fruit?

He was perched on his spread knees, his bottom on his heels, and his mound resting on the sand. He groaned and panted as he rubbed his hands upon it, his bosom bobbing and seeping in the remnants of his shirt.

Veins rose and sunk on the surface of his great mass, and it disturbed Charles like nothing he had ever seen before. He was legitimately concerned that Connor would burst, right there, before his very eyes. That his belly would tear apart, and his fruit would come spilling out of him. They had been greedy. They had forsaken him.

“Charles,” Connor groaned out.

Charles knelt beside him as Connor’s belly throbbed worse. “Ohhh!” Connor yelped out, the veins sinking as something changed. He shifted awkwardly for a moment, lowering himself onto his plump bottom to drawn up his knees on either side of him. He groaned as he shifted back as much as he could, managing to raise his belly off the ground.

That’s when Charles saw it. A vine growing out of his opening, and extending beneath his belly. It seemed thicker and greener than the other vines that had preceded his births. And it was actively growing…extending. Even with the weight of his belly, the vine grew longer in pulses, through the sand, whilst pushing his belly up somewhat. Connor gasped as the vine grew longer and thicker in rhythm with his belly’s visible pulsations. Despite it, his belly was not getting any smaller, nor did he show any signs of birthing the fruit. Charles was puzzled, to say the least. What was…happening?

Connor released another grunt, which was followed by a powerful surge of vine growth, the tip of it starting to make its way out of the shelter. Charles stared at it, wide-eyed.

And that wasn’t all. As the vine grew, it seemed to be getting more complex. Leaves began to branch off of it, and other, thinner, green limbs. Segments of the vine began to crawl up the sides of the shelter, other segments seeming to burrow into the sand. But the central vine, the biggest one—it continued through the exit.

Now Charles could hear the other men muttering outside: hushed whispers of curiosity. Charles directed his gaze back to Connor.

Connor was leaned back against his hands, knees spread as much as he could spread them. His forehead was sleek with sweat, cheeks flushed, and lips parted, with the most dazed of expressions on his face. Charles could not tell whether Connor was in pain or comfort. Connor just gasped, and groaned, and pushed more of the vine. He pushed with the pulsations, as the vine extended, and his belly lurched. He rubbed the mass up and down with his hands.

The remnants of his shirt tore to shreds, freeing his bosom of its last bit of confinement. His breasts were round, with no hint of sagging. Both of his nipples began to drip their sweet juice, as his chest heaved, and the mounds gently wiggled on his chest.

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“Nnngghhhhhh!” Connor grunted, throwing his head back, arching his spine, pushing harder, and Charles could see a knot run down the length of the main vine, as though something had pushed out of Connor and inside of it. Connor gasped for breath for a few moments, his eyes wide and lips moving wordlessly. And then he released another long grunt, and another knot ran from his opening, the size of a lime as it slid fluidly down the length of the vine. It reminded Charles of a snake digesting a mouse. In curiosity, he ducked out of the shelter to follow the knot outside and perhaps get a better idea of what was going on. Once he exited onto the beach, however, Charles found himself surrounded by his men.

“What’s going on?” Fredrick asked, trying to peer into the shelter, but Charles blocked the view. Fredrick nodded towards it, and the sound of Connor’s panting. “Is he producing? What is this…plant?” He eyed the thick vine trailing out of the shelter as another knot rolled along it.

The knot shrunk as it continued down a secondary branch of the vine. Finally, it stopped just beneath a leaf, where it became a bud. Charles watched this in fascination.

“Annnghhh…” Connor groaned. A few seconds later, another bud sprouted.

All the while, the vines continued to grow. Now some of its leafy limbs had begun to burrow deeper into Charles’ shelter. It dug through tree bark, bamboo, palm leaves, and bramble. Finally, it began to slowly pull the shelter apart. The men stared in astonishment as several days of hard work was deconstructed by the bizarre foliage.

As the shelter parted, light shone down on its interior, on Connor. It was almost a majestic sight. Jaws dropped at the sight of Connor’s massive, throbbing mass. He rocked and groaned as knot after knot pushed out of his opening, forming innumerable buds that now decorated the vines. Still, this had no impact on the size of his massive belly. If anything, it was growing larger.

The buds themselves were unusually large, each the size of a plum. They were actively swelling, and reddening in color. The men could only gape in fascination.

Charles approached a bud as it continued to throb, much the way Connor’s belly did. He stared down at it, almost mesmerized by the sweet scent of it. As Connor squirmed and groaned and rubbed his pulsing belly, the bud swelled to the size of a grapefruit. Looking around, Charles could see that all of the buds were now this size.

He focused on the bud before his eyes, the sub-vine drooping from the weight of it. The petals began to open, just slightly. Within he could see a red fruit. Connor’s fruit.

There was a thud of something hitting the sand, and Charles lifted his gaze to see that one of the red fruits had dropped from one of the vine buds that adorned the shelter. Other fruits began to gently drop to the sand, the blossomed buds quickly replaced with new ones. There had to be a dozen fully-developed fruit by then, and nearly a dozen new buds rapidly growing to replace them.

“We’re saved!” said Fredrick in elation, though Charles was still rather stunned. “This could hold us for weeks—longer!”

And the buds were still being rapidly produced. It was as astounding as it was disturbing. Just the sight of Connor struggling, and producing, in this strange new way, left Charles completely shocked. He returned to the young man and crouched down at his side. Connor was now perched in a puddle of his own sweat. He fidgeted and squirmed, as though to gain some leverage in the process. He was utterly drained, looking ready to pass out.

“What is this?” said Isaac, also stepping forward to marvel at Connor. Like the others, he was elated by the seemingly-endless supply of food, albeit he looked intimidated by the ever-extending vine. “Why is this happening?”

“Why did any of this occur,” Charles responded with question. He rested his hand on Connor’s heaving belly. “I don’t know. No one knows. It’s the will of the gods, nothing more nothing less.” He rubbed his hand up and down the sweaty mass.

Connor was too breathless to comment, had he the will. He could barely catch his breath, his face flushed as he made unending gasps. Then, beneath Charles’ fingertips, his belly became heated and tight. Charles felt a pulse roll along it, Connor gasping as his belly button bloated more. The mass of his abdomen followed, swelling, bloating, pushing forward, and Connor squeezing his eyes shut. “Nnnnghhhh…ohhhhhhh….” His legs widened more.

He dropped to his back, his belly pointing upwards as a new knot pushed out of him—it was bigger than the others, and took a deal of strain. The size of a large orange, it rolled down the length of the main vine. It reached the very end, where it quickly became a bud like the others. But this one was large, and white as it grew rapidly, swelling, and throbbing, as white petals formed, until it was the size of a melon and began to open.

There was a crying noise. A…baby’s crying. The bud throbbed and ejected something that rolled onto the sand.

The men stared in shock at the newborn infant sprawled on the ground.