Sugar-Baby

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

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-

Some called her an escort. Lucy preferred the term “sugar baby.” She had a full client roster, and things couldn’t have been going better.

“What the fuck?” she said, staring down at the simple postcard she had gotten in the mail.

Scrawled across it in untidy lettering were the words: the touch of your hand on this paper activates this curse. And every hand you touch henceforth will impregnate you with one baby, for better or for worse. Regards — Jimmy.

Jimmy as in Jimmy Jennings? Eugh, that guy was a freakshow. Lucy supposed the man was still angry about last week when she had tied him up in a hotel, stolen his money, and left him there woefully unattended to. And it served him right! It was the payment men got when they tried to treat her like some cheap hooker.

Tossing the ridiculous postcard into the trash, Lucy walked back to her bedroom to finish getting ready. She had a date that night with one of her favorites. Lucy entered her walk-in closet and lifted several outfit choices, smiling in thought of the gifts to come.

-

It was her first time at an opera. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Sebastian loved to wine and dine her, treating her as though she was the most precious thing in the world.

The two settled down in their seats in the best box, Lucy lifting a pair of opera glasses to her eyes as she beamed down at the stage.

“You look lovely, my darling,” Sebastian said, reaching out to take her hand.

As their fingers intertwined, Lucy felt the oddest of sensations. Something twisted deep in her stomach, causing a wave of nausea that thankfully settled as quickly as it had come.

“Is everything alright?” Sebastian inquired, releasing her hand to cup her cheek.

Lucy inhaled deeply. She was letting that stupid postcard get to her. So she smiled at him, brushing off the sense of sickness. “Everything is perfect,” she assured.

As Sebastian held her hand again, the nausea resurged, her insides lurching. It took all Lucy had not to retch. With a pained grin, she stared at the stage. The lights dimmed, and the show began.

-

Sebastian was always so sweet and attentive, but somehow it was working against her. He took her hand again as he walked her to her door. By the time she kissed him good night and hurried up to her apartment, she was struggling not to gag. The discomfort had worsened every time Sebastian had taken her hand in his.

She stumbled into her bathroom, gripping her sink as she breathed deeply. Her stomach felt tense and tight as it churned with awful indigestion.

She cupped her stomach, encountering the physical manifestation of that bloated sensation. It was firm and rounded, as though it was packed. Lucy turned to her side to study her profile in the mirror, horrified to see that she looked as though she was four months pregnant!

-

For her date the following day, Lucy donned a loose dress. She also put on a pair of long, fancy gloves, hoping it didn’t look too out of place on her.

Uncertain of whether the gloves would work, Lucy attempted to navigate things away from intimate territory. “Should we skip dinner and just go have some fun?” she asked Marcus, hugging his arm flirtatiously.

“No baby, you know I love to spoil you,” Marcus countered. He was nearly as rich as Sebastian, and loved taking her to expensive restaurants to show her off.

They pulled up to a fancy Italian place that routinely served world leaders and royalty. Lucy tried to avoid Marcus’s aid in getting out of the vehicle, but somehow he still managed take her hand. She stumbled a little.

Her belly tightened, pushing against the material of the dress she was wearing. It was empire waist, so hopefully her tightening swell was not too noticeable. As she gasped for breath, Marcus threw an odd glance, but thankfully dismissed whatever he might have noticed. They walked inside, fingers interlocking.

During dinner, Lucy could not avoid Marcus reaching across the table to take her hand on several occasions. He just loved touching her, loved treating her like she was truly his.

Lucy was sweating through her makeup. She hurried off to the bathroom several times, grunting and grimacing as her belly stretched and shuttered to accommodate more…babies? Presumably. It seemed like utter madness, and yet she stood there, looking as though she was six months with child!

Marcus again tried to take her hand on their way out, but she thought fast and instead linked their arms. Why did all her top clients have to be such fucking gentlemen?

Marcus chuckled as he followed her back into the limo.

When he dropped her off at her apartment, he caught her hand just before Lucy could climb out of the vehicle.

“Mmmgghhh…” she managed to muffle her moan by pressing her lips tight, a wave of dizziness assailing her.

Marcus planted a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

Lucy nodded weakly, struggling not to grimace. Her stomach felt as though it was throbbing.

“Now don’t forget our talk about your weight gain. I’m not paying you to let yourself go,” Marcus added.

Lucy’s face fell. Tearing her hand out of his, she clambered out of the vehicle, hearing him chuckle behind her. She cupped her belly through her dress as the car drove off, her eyes slowly widening.

-

Lucy was unable to sleep that night, instead tossing and turning. Several times she went to the bathroom and pulled her robe open, staring at the firm swell protruding from her abdomen.

By morning, Lucy was exhausted as she sat slumped at her kitchen table, cradling a coffee mug.

She had another date that evening. She knew that she might as well just cancel, but it was a lot of money. Rent was due in a week, and Lucy couldn’t afford to miss a job.

It was just one more date. She could get through it. Afterwards, she would make it her priority to find Jimmy fucking Jennings, and force him to reverse this ridiculous curse on her body.

So Lucy got ready, her clothing options limited. She ended up wearing a burgundy princess dress with a high waste, hoping that the poofy skirts would hide her condition. She knew she was overdressed, and the look was bordering on ridiculous, but she didn’t have many other options. No self-respecting man would want to pregnant sugar-baby, even one as hot as she was.

Her doorbell rang at 7 o’clock, precisely. Feeling very much like some bridesmaid from hell, Lucy made her way downstairs.

Jeffrey was a new client. He seemed ecstatic just that she’d answered.

“This night is going to be perfect!” he claimed as he snatched both her hands.

Eyes bulging, Lucy hardly contained her grunt. She trembled, squeezing Jeffrey’s hands as her stomach grew so tight it was painful. Her swell inched and shifted under her skirt, pushing out further than it had ever at one time previously. She tried not to succumb to the wave of dizziness or the urge to gag as her stomach was filled with pressure.

Two—babies?

“Are you okay, baby?” Jeffrey asked her.

Lucy inhaled deeply and managed a nod. Her temples were sweating and she felt so truly packed. By then she had lost count of how many babies she could possibly be carrying.

“Thank you again for doing this, baby. Things have been really tough…since the divorce.”

She gave another jerky nod, unable to speak.

“Shall we?”

Lucy kept hold of one of his hands, afraid of breaking the contact lest he initiate it again. Gingerly, she allowed him to guide her to his car, grateful that she had worn flats.

Her life was a mess.