Full

Note: This is a story-prompt for Wisey_S.

$20 Patreon Directory

-

It took Richard nearly fifteen minutes to struggle onto his back, after which the air was knocked out of his lungs, his weight pinning him against the bed. He then somehow heaved himself into a sitting position, by which point he was panting and sweaty, his massive belly squashed uncomfortably against his lap.

“You’re up,” said John, Richard’s boyfriend, as he stepped into the doorframe. “Oversleep again? Breakfast is in the kitchen.” This fact was evidenced by the smell of bacon wafting in.

Richard groaned at the thought of stuffing food into his already monstrously bloated frame. But the mention of it had his stomach grumbling as usual. “I’ll be right there,” Richard managed, rubbing the side of his belly as it trembled with kicks.

Simply raising a brow, John walked off, with no offer of assistance.

Richard cursed under his breath as he continued to rub his hands over what he could reach of his mass. He was pregnant—with multiples—three at least, said his doctor. Of course that didn’t mean much, as his doctor was John. And John was more a scientist than a practitioner of medicine.

So here Richard was, the walking science experiment. He would have left John ages ago, had he been physically able. But with no medical insurance, no financial support, and hardly able to support his own body weight were he to decide to waddle off into the sunset, Richard found himself stuck, both figuratively and literally. He continued to pant from the exertion it had taken him merely to get up into a sitting position on the bed.

His belly was the size of a beach ball, at least, and getting larger every day. It was overwhelming on his otherwise slim frame. His belly button resembled a golfball in size, heaving up and down as Richard struggled to regain himself. His massive belly was squashed heavily against his lap, his legs spread wide to give it as much space as he could.

Richard rocked back and fourth for a good five minutes before he managed to heave himself off his scrawny ass. “Ohhh…” he groaned, clutching at his belly as he nearly toppled from the weight of it. His back burned and his hips ached, but he somehow managed to waddle his way to the wall, and lean against it. “Hahhh…hahhhh…” he panted.

As he surveyed himself, Richard thought he looked more massive than ever. How much had he grown since the night before? Of course, John was no help. Four times a day, Richard was forced to stuff down a miniature feast under John’s close supervison.

Richard had never wanted this for himself. He had been fit; athletic. He hadn’t even known that male pregnancy was possible, not until the day that John had grinned down at his rounding frame, and asked to feel the babies.

Richard watched his belly swell and sink, rise and fall with his heavy breathing. It was flushed, and sleek with sweat, fully protruding from the T-shirt he wore. In fact, his belly was wider than he was.

With great reluctance, Richard pushed himself off the wall, and in a half waddle, half stagger, made his way towards the bathroom. As he proceeded onwards, Richard’s belly scraped against either side of the doorframe. It took a good deal of navigating to lower his quavering form to the toilet. Once he had relieved his bladder of its undue strain, Richard gripped the counter, groaned out, and somehow pulled himself up again. “Nrrgghhh…” he grunted as his belly pushed out. He felt like he might explode.

There was an impatient knock on the door.

“One minute,” Richard managed out.

He flushed the toilet and rubbed his belly, grunting at how his weight pressed on his reproductive organs. There was hardly a moment that he wasn’t aroused. By impulse, Richard reached down to take himself in his hand.

But as usual, his fingers only grazed it. He had found himself unable to masturbate for the past week, maybe longer. Whimpering, Richard awkwardly pawed at himself with just the tips of his finger, feeling precome already moistening his sweatpants.

“Richard!?” John called, knocking furiously.

With one more quavering breath, Richard managed to turn himself around, too exhausted to be self-conscious about his obvious erection. Instead he fruitlessly tugged at the hem of his shirt. It was time for breakfast.