Experimental

Note: This is a story-prompt for That-Other-Guy.

$20 Patreon Directory

-

Jim stared at that small pill in his hand. It was an experimental fertility drug that he had ordered online from a miscellaneous source. It seemed weird, and dangerous—borderline ridiculous, even. But James and his wife had been trying for a child for years. The couple was only twenty-seven, but their prospects for a child wasn’t improving. They couldn’t afford traditional fertility doctors and treatments, and their dreams of having a family seemed to be all but lost.

What did it matter if he took the drug? All of the risk was on him, after all. He would never do anything to hurt Lara. And so, with a deep breath, Jim gulped down the pill.

Almost immediately, Jim felt reinvigorated, and quite antsy. He practically jumped Lara when she came home from work. In only a week, she was plagued with vomiting episodes almost daily. Following a visit to the nearby free clinic, she was confirmed to be pregnant with triplets!

Jim and Lara were ecstatic! They immediately immersed themselves in preparations, and Jim felt sexually refueled somehow. Either the drug was still coursing through his body, or it was pure adrenaline, because his blood was boiling, dick twitching, and he just could not get enough of Lara.

Following an exuberant night, and several couplings, he and Lara awoke, and were astonished, to see that her belly had visibly bloated, as though she was four months along! Jim and Lara hastily returned to the clinic, but because of the holiday, they could not get an appointment for a week. Instead they went home and contemplated things. It was decided that the two would not be intimate until after they saw a doctor.

Things didn’t work out exactly as planned. Jim’s arousal only seemed to fuel Lara’s. They went at each other like rabbits, Jim barely having the sense to pull on a condom, but he just managed. Unfortunately it broke, and the couple was stunned the following morning when Lara awoke to find herself looking seven months pregnant, her belly protruding from the bottom of her T-shirt.

Lara was frightened and hysterical, and Jim rushed her to the ER. After a seemingly endless number of tests, a physician sat them down, looking rather stunned himself.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Dr. Grail admitted. “You’re pregnant with several embryos. Too many to count. Though the gestational age of each differs. This means that you’ve been impregnated on numerous different occasions. Further, you will not go into labor until all of the fetuses reach term. This could be complicated…”

As the doctor rambled on about viability issues, health risks, and his recommendations of partial elimination, Jim and Lara looked at each other in amazement. Their curse had become a bizarre sort of miracle.

After promising Dr. Grail that they would go home and think the circumstances over, the two headed back to their apartment, laid in bed, and tried hard not to touch each other.

Jim watched the way Lara’s belly rose and fell, and imagined it filling more with babies, his babies. He thought about how he had gone from an impotent failure to filling his wife to bursting with his young—not once, but on multiple occasions.

He imagined her inflating rapidly in the coming weeks. How with another coupling, he could increase her size substantially. He thought about how big she would grow were they to decide against eliminating some of the fetuses. The size of a basketball, then a melon, and beachball, and bigger, her belly contorting, perhaps becoming elliptical, then inflating again, bigger, rounder, tearing through her clothes, outgrowing the rest of her. She would be huge. Perhaps immobile. Breasts full and round and popping out of her clothes, seeping milk as she wobbled and struggled under her girth.

“I think we should keep them,” Jim heard himself say. He stroked her arm, feeling himself reacting, his pants getting tighter by the moment.

Lara looked his way with a gentle smile. She stroked her belly, still protruding from her shirt. Her belly button looked on the cusp of popping outward. “I agree,” she said.