Malcolm, Part 8 (Patreon)

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Summary: Malcolm has a unique ability. Though male pregnancy is so rare most people don't believe in it, Malcolm can impregnate any guy. Not only does Malcolm have this ability, but he quite enjoys using it. Malcolm loves to give unsuspecting men the night of their lives, before he disappears, and leaves them oblivious of the fact that they are pregnant--likely with multiples. Malcolm enjoys watching his victims as they progressively blow up with his babies. He likes targeting men already under stress--college students, athletes, CEOs, engaged men, family men, interns--the list goes on. This is a story about Malcolm watching his various victims as they struggle to conceal or adapt to their conditions. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, stuffing, weight gain, butt expansion, pregnancy.

Previous Chapter

-

Simon The Soccer Player

Simon felt like a time bomb. Though time was irrelevant. Simon would need to pay cash to be freed of his condition. Or to convince Malcolm to induce him.

Simon’s weight continued to surge, even though he had mentally liberated himself from the task of having to gain at Malcolm’s behest. It had become clear that Malcolm’s word meant nothing, meaning Simon had no incentive to follow his rules anymore. Yet, in two short weeks, Simon had developed a nasty habit. All those 1000 calorie meal-bars and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches had set something off. He couldn’t seem to stop stuffing his face, otherwise his stomach would grumble and gurgle from not being spoiled anymore. Soon the hunger pains would start up, plus the cravings were just intolerable. The cravings could completely take control even when he wasn’t hungry.

Simon had turned himself into a food-addict. Or maybe the pregnancy was contributing, because his usual self-control was in tatters. Which wasn’t altogether unreasonable; Simon was fat and hormonal, so who could blame him? The unreasonable thing was that he was just getting too big. He estimated that at his size, he looked overdue, even though he wasn’t nearly. It was ironic. He, as a man, had wanted his pregnancy to be small and unnoticeable at the very least. In contrast, he was bigger than most women got. Nothing discreet about it. This whole thing was a shit storm, and his appetite wasn’t slowing down.

Simon wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing that he hadn’t gained much weight anywhere aside from his belly. It made his abdomen look even more pronounced, disproportionate and ludicrous on his slim body. He had noticed that his nipples were getting increasingly puffy, sensitive, and swollen, but he wasn’t seeing much more in terms of physical changes. Mentally, of course, he was barely holding it together.

Simon stepped out of his apartment building that afternoon, waiting for his driver to pull up. By then he had gotten used to his neighbors’ odd glances, and they seemed to have gotten used to him as well, to a degree. He was wearing some sweatpants and another huge custom-made, button-down shirt. Lately, his clients loved him wearing buttons. They used them to gauge how much Simon was growing. They wanted Simon to wear the same shirts every time, to watch the buttons strain to the point of popping. Their delight was his misery. But hell, it paid.

Simon was trying to take on as much work as he could. After Malcolm had proven his word to be meaningless, Simon had all the more incentive to save enough funds to pay for his induction. And he was getting close.

Hands absently clutching his belly, Simon looked around for his driver. He had a “date” at the hotel and didn’t want to be late again.

Simon heard some voices nearby. He turned to his left and saw a group of adolescents on the corner. His whole body went rigid as he recognized them: a few his former teammates on the college soccer team. About four of them.

Without thinking, Simon stepped back, tucking himself into a nook of his building’s design. Belatedly, he realized that his belly was still protruding out, visibly.

“Simon?”

Simon’s heart was racing, his chest feeling constricted. But he had been spotted. With no other options, he stepped forward and faced his former teammates.

“Holy shit!” said Bradley. He had been Vice-Captain before Simon’s expulsion. Which would mean he was team captain now. He had taken Simon’s place.

“Hi…” Simon said, the situation painfully awkward for him. He could barely meet their eyes.

They were gawking.

“What the fuck am I seeing?” said Max, blinking hard.

“I heard the rumors, but I didn’t actually think…” Enrique trailed off.

Simon’s cheeks felt as though they had caught on fire. “I’m doing well,” he supplied meaninglessly, hands fidgeting and tugging at his shirt, which was a little strained at his abdomen. His insides lurched uncomfortably.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Bradley demanded.

Nate pulled out his cell phone and started snapping pictures.

Simon felt dizzy. He just tried to focus on breathing, his hands clutching his belly. “I…I have to go, I just…” It was then that he spotted his driver.

He could hear their murmurs and chuckles as he waddled off. He awkwardly eased down in the back of the car, his face red from humiliation as he closed the door. Through the window, he could see the others wearing bemused looks. Nate was pointing at the car, laughing unreservedly.

“Let’s go,” Simon said tightly. Trying not to cry.

When they pulled up to the hotel, Simon found himself staring off, not really seeing anything through the window. He took in long breaths of air, trying to calm himself down.

“Chop chop, kid,” said Simon’s driver Wayne, as he threw an impatient look through the rearview mirror. “You’re gonna be late again.”

Wayne always got a small cut from Simon’s dates. In exchange, he hung around, kept an eye on things, and made sure Simon was safely driven home.

“Sorry,” Simon managed, shifting. His limbs felt like lead, but he opened the door, braced his hands on either side, and heaved himself up with a groan of effort. He breathed heavily, face scrunched as he held his abdomen, waiting to adjust to the new position.

Wayne shook his head at him through the mirror, probably thinking that Simon was insane.

Simon waddled into the hotel. He picked up his key at the front desk and went straight up to his usual room. He was actually a few minutes early despite everything.

Simon went to the minibar and helped himself to some chips and candy. He forced himself not to think about his recent interaction with his former teammates, because when he did, he just started shaking. He had already eaten four chocolate bars when he heard a light rapping on the door.

Simon stuffed the remainder of the fifth chocolate bar into his mouth, chewing as he tugged at his shirt, and waddled to the door to answer it.

“Fuck, kid, you’re inflating,” said Rodney, his eyes traveling up and down Simon’s fecund body.

Rodney was a blue-collar type of man in his thirties, and one of Simon’s regulars. He wasn’t rich, but he liked to save his money for certain…indulgences. Simon stepped back to let him inside.

“Thanks,” said Simon sarcastically, his cheeks heating up again.

“I always worry I’ll be too late to see you again,” Rodney said. He pulled a flask out of his jacket, taking a swig of whatever it was. “Like I think you mighta given birth or something.”

“Men have to schedule induction,” Simon reminded him. “I wouldn’t book you if I wasn’t planning to be here.”

“You’re at your limits, kid.”

As if Simon needed reminding. He just gave a tense smile. “Why don’t you get undressed?” Simon said, as he waddled over to the dresser where he had left his backpack. The candy bars hadn’t quite taken the edge off his hunger. He pulled out one of his meal bars, opening it, and taking a bite.

Simon felt Rodney sidle up behind him. “What do you have there?” the older man asked, kissing Simon’s shoulder.

With an eye-roll, Simon showed him the bar.

“Christ, you eat that shit!? Isn’t that like 500 calories a pop?”

“A thousand,” Simon corrected him. He had gotten the extra-concentrated variety.

“No wonder you’re growing so much,” Rodney said, his chest pressed to Simon’s back, hands freely rubbing Simon’s belly over the shirt he was still wearing. “God, you’re doing it on purpose, are you? Fuck.”

Simon had to think about that. Sure, it had been intentional for those two weeks he had been trying to appease Malcolm. But by now, Simon had simply gotten used to the fattening snacks. He glanced down at his abdomen, thinking he should probably switch out.

Rodney’s hands dipped under the shirt, palms rubbing on bare skin, Simon’s eyelids fluttering.

Then he was over the shirt again, fingers wandering up to Simon’s chest. He cupped then squeezed, Simon grunting from the discomfort. There wasn’t much to squeeze, but it was enough.

Rodney started unbuttoning Simon’s shirt, pushing the sleeves off his shoulders. Simon winced as Rodney started fondling his swollen nipples.

“I want to suck your little tits,” Rodney murmured against his ear.

“Ew.” Simon resisted the urge to shove Rodney off him.

“I know this look. Look how puffy they’re getting. With a little stimulation, you’ll have your milk coming in.”

This time Simon didn’t fight the impulse. He pulled himself out of Rodney’s arms while gripping his shirt closed at the chest.

“I don’t even need to do anything else to you,” Rodney said, as Simon turned to face him. “Hell, I’ll even pay extra.”

Simon’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?” Sex was getting so awkward lately. Rodney was willing to pay just to suck his nipples?

“Hell yeah,” Rodney said with an arrogant grin. “Just eat some more of those meal bars.”

“You weird fuck,” Simon muttered, but he wasn’t protesting. “Just this once.”

Simon grabbed his backpack and got on the bed, leaning back against several pillows to get comfortable. He pulled another of the meal bars out of the backpack, feeling breathless as Rodney approached. Simon was already full, but eating more would be no hardship, especially if that exempted him from the awkwardness of being fucked in various uncomfortable positions.

Simon tore off the wrapper and took a large bite out of the bar, chewing as Rodney climbed over him, straddling his knees and unbuttoning his shirt.

Simon’s stomach gurgled. Rodney leaned down to press his ear against the swell, listening as Simon blushed. Simon already felt like a whale, and was way over his calories for the day. Yet he suspected he would still be pigging out even if he didn’t have a john that day.

When Rodney finished unbuttoning Simon’s shirt, he leaned over to start kissing Simon’s chest, adding some suction as things progressed. Simon grunted as Rodney closed in on his nipple, kissing, sucking, and taunting it with his tongue. He started rubbing Simon’s belly, the pleasant sensation conflicting with the discomfort in Simon’s chest as Rodney sucked and sucked, abusing the sensitive nub as it ached in protest. But then there was heat as well, a tingling pleasure that made Simon’s eyelids flutter. Just as it started to peak, Rodney moved onto the other nipple. Simon groaned.

“Feels good?” Rodney questioned, tracing Simon’s areola with his tongue.

“Feels like…something,” Simon managed.

“Keep eating.”

Simon obediently forced another meal bar into his mouth. The increasing pressure in his gut joined the various other sensations assailing him.

Then Rodney sucked, and Simon was grimacing again, his toes twisting as Rodney proceeded methodically, going from one nipple to the other, sucking and abusing, licking and teasing, sometimes pinching with his fingers, until Simon’s chest was fully sore, hot, and tingling. Simon forced down another two meal bars throughout the process, his belly stuffed to shuddering capacity. By the time Rodney was done with his meticulous torment of Simon’s nipples, Simon was wondering if he should have just opted for a hard and thorough fucking.

“What the hell was the point of all that?” Simon managed as he rebuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Rodney said with a devious grin.

Simon rolled his eyes. Idiot, he thought, as he accepted Rodney’s payment in the form of several bills. “Pleasure as always.”

“Fuck, I just want to keep you. Just want to watch every inch that gut is growing.”

Simon gave a startled, muffled noise when Rodney kissed him. When he managed to pull away, he was panting, but Rodney was pulling him closer. He put his hand on Rodney’s chest as he said, “it’ll be double,” a little dazed.

“It’ll be worth it,” Rodney countered as he kissed him again. Simon grunted from the pressure of Rodney’s body against his. He felt tight to bursting, but he pulled Rodney closer. He knew Rodney well enough to know he was good for the money.

-

A fruity melody roused Simon from his sleep. He glanced at his cell phone to find several texts calls, most of them from his driver. He answered the call while still half-asleep. “Wayne?” He sleepily noticed arms cradling him in the darkness: Rodney’s hand cupping his belly. Simon tried to pull himself free.

“Uh, hey. It’s Brad.”

The sound of Bradley’s voice brought Simon into full consciousness. “Oh…” Simon said, blinking. He rubbed his eyes.

“Just wanted to say sorry about earlier, man. You know Nate’s an ass. Good in midfield, but a complete dick.”

“Yeah, true.” Simon just wanted to get off the call. He couldn’t deal with his old life right now. Not yet. Not while still pregnant.

“I mean, it’s just so weird. You were always so straight-laced. It’s just really fucking weird.”

“I really have to go,” Simon managed, watching as Rodney stirred.

“Okay, right — well, can we meet up some time? Just talk. I want to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” Simon said unthinkingly. “Um — I’ll text you.”

“Okay, great, then…talk soon, I guess.”

“Sure,” Simon said hastily. Then he turned off his phone and heaved a sigh.