Full (3 Parts)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Wisey_S.

Prompt Directory

1.

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. “Overslept 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 fingers, 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.

2.

As Richard sat in the living room, his blank eyes focused on the daytime talk show, his mind was on anything but the airy prattling occurring on the television set.

He had his regular anxieties regarding his condition. He had no clue when he had conceived, or how far along he was. John was always mum about the details. Richard did know that he was presently massive, and looked as though he was ready to drop, or at least go into labor. Then again, would he go into labor? How would he give birth? Would it be at home, or at the hospital? Surgically? Well, surely it would have to be.

Richard stared at his rounded abdomen as it gently rose and fell, like it was an independent, sleeping, entity, presently perched there on his lap. The size of an overinflated beach ball, it was gradually taking over his torso, growing farther out, wider, higher, lower, and just more massive, altogether.

Cutting off his thoughts there, before they descended into a cacophony of panic, Richard looked away from the television screen. He supposed it was as good a time as any to lie down and rest.

Gripping onto the arm of the couch, Richard rocked himself as usual, allowing his great weight to swing. On his fourth rock forward, he thrust his efforts to his knees, and pushed himself upwards—

His backside hardly lifted from the couch.

With a wheeze, Richard sunk back down, perhaps even deeper into the cushions than he had been before. He clutched at his belly as he gasped for breath from the great exertion it had taken him simply from attempting to rise.

This wasn’t good. He had noticed, lately, an increasing difficulty with getting up, but this was the first time he had actually failed. It was unnerving. If he couldn’t get up on his own anymore, then he really was helpless.

Richard supposed that he would make another attempt, but the thought alone made him feel as though he would pass out. He squirmed somewhat, trying not to panic. Perhaps if he pushed himself over the edge of the cushions, he could brace himself on the carpet and have a little more leverage—

Now sweating, Richard began to do just that, sidling forward as his weight pressed harder on his thighs. And just before Richard could ease himself completely over the edge, his massive belly teetered precariously, where it overflowed his lap. His weight threatened to spill forward, and Richard feared he would topple with it.

In a desperate attempt to avoid falling, he managed to navigate himself onto his knees, on the carpet, as he panted and clutched his round belly. It wobbled slightly from the restless movement within.

Though he still had a grip on the couch with one hand, he knew there was no way he would be able to get up from this position. He tentatively tried to shift onto all fours, to crawl, but his belly just pressed against the carpet, surpassing his knees by several inches by then.

“Nnngghhh…” With some strain, Richard managed to plop down on his ass, spreading his legs almost painfully wide in his effort to avoid the uncomfortable collision between his thighs and the underside of his belly. His legs ended up partially squashed beneath the mound regardless.

He leaned back on the bottom part of the couch, as he groaned, sweat rolling down his pulsing mound. John’s at the store, Richard recalled, trying to navigate his thoughts away from his throbbing erection and heated body.

His belly quivered gently.

He rubbed circles on it and closed his eyes.

He would just have to wait for John.

3.

Richard’s face was red and beaded with sweat. He felt exhausted, uncomfortable, and absolutely stuffed. His belly was visibly throbbing, and yet it felt so so good somehow. He gasped for breath as he took in each of John’s thrusts.

He felt near-delirious by then. He was on his knees on the bed, but mostly propped against his belly, his body rocking as John rode him from behind. And though Richard felt like a whale, was graceless, and could hardly move on his own anymore, he couldn’t help the gasps and moans that escaped his throat, mostly just embellishing his panting as he fruitlessly struggled to catch his breath. John was good, so good, uncomfortable, heavy, frightening, and good. John reached down to take Richard’s gender into his hand, causing Richard to release a choked whimper. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. “Oh god,” Richard croaked, as John stroked him slow and torturously. But it was enough. Richard had been half-hard for weeks. As John battered his prostate and gave him a gentle squeeze, Richard simply exploded.

John sped up. Richard was red, panting, exhausted, uncomfortable, and yet so truly satiated. He sunk against himself, grimacing at the discomfort this caused, and he tensed up a bit. His belly seemed to heave up each time John shoved into him, the pressure forceful and unforgiving. He felt as though there was no space left, his belly tight and heated, and seeming to throb in rhythm with John’s thrusts.

John tensed, and finally—

Richard choked, suddenly unable to breathe at all, as his belly tightened, and pushed, as though he was somehow being filled with another baby. “Nrrrgghhh….” He feebly pawed at himself, and did his best to ease his feeble body weight away from his quivering baby-mound. He didn’t think it possible that John could be so potent. Another science experiment, no doubt.

It took too long, but Richard finally found his breath, red and wheezing by then. He reached back to grip John’s wrist, terrified as he was. Feeling drained, he practically collapses against his mound again.

John released a low chuckle, gently plucking his hand away to fondly stroke Richard’s massive belly. Richard grunted as John leaned more heavily on his back. His belly lurched reproachfully, though there was little Richard could do to relieve it from its position pinned to the bed.

John sprinkled the back of his neck with kisses, and Richard would have found it loving, had John not veritably ruined his life.

“So big…” John murmured. “So beautiful. So full of life.”

With arms that were shockingly strong and adept at navigating young men who were bursting with babies, John pulled Richard with him, towards the mattress, Richard crying out as his belly resisted collaboration with the rest of his body. But John supported the weight, somehow, and pulled Richard down to the bed in a position that was no more comfortable than any other. Richard found himself perched on his side, staring at his heaving bolder of a belly, different parts of his expanse quivering with gentle kicks and punches. John curled against his back and he cupped at the movements, the ones he could reach anyway.

To Richard’s combined excitement and horror, he felt John harden against his backside. The scientist began to navigate himself back towards Richard’s opening—

Richard grunted as his belly tightened, visibly tensing, and causing all the kicks to smooth away. His ass felt tight, and full, and there was definitely a pressure behind it. He groaned as his belly tightened again.

“Richard?” said John.

“Oh god…I think I’m in labor!”