Laying, Part 2 (Patreon)

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Summary: Aiden is livestock on a farm, and every day produces five or so unfertilized eggs, which the farm sells as food with their other products. But when the farm gets esteemed visitor, Dean Chambers, Dean chooses Aiden as a bed-mate, and Aiden has no choice but to produce fertilized eggs, which are not sellable. When Dean leaves, the farmer gives Aiden hormones to double his egg output to make up for lost time, which makes it harder for Aiden to lay his eggs in a timely manner. Even worse, Dean unexpectedly returns, again causing Aiden’s eggs to become fertilized, and Dean isn’t too keen about letting Aiden lay them. Contains: Male: belly expansion, pregnancy, egg laying, breast expansion, stuffing, and more.

Previous Chapter

-

Aiden walked out of the cafeteria, trying to be discreet about it. Making sure that his back was turned on the businessman, Aiden cupped his belly as though he had to lay—which in fact he did. He pushed his way out of the back entrance of the cafeteria and walked, quickly, to his room.

Aiden sat on his bed, breathing heavily. He was too distracted to worry about the surplus of eggs in his stomach. On a regular day, it would have been his priority. But he had gotten accustomed to the sensation of fullness, and it no longer seemed emergent. If he carried some extra eggs, it wouldn’t be the end of the world with his contract, nor did it seem to harm his body. And at present, birthing the eggs was secondary to his figuring out a way to avoid Dean.

Aiden’s eyes darted to the fertilized eggs sprawled in the corner, on the straw that cushioned them. Did they seem slightly bigger, or was it just his imagination?

There was a knock on the door. Oh no.

Roscow entered, not waiting for an answer. It was rare for the farmer to personally visit one of his workers. In consequence, Aiden already knew what was coming.

“I need you to entertain our esteemed guest again,” said Roscow, with a bitter note to his voice.

Aiden tensed, laying his hand on his belly. “Surely one of the others—”

“He insists on you,” said Roscow.

Aiden let off a litany of curses in his head.

“Had I known he was returning, I would have never increased your dosage,” said Roscow, as if in apology. He rested his gaze on Aiden’s abdomen. “But it can’t be helped. I do business with his family. We wouldn’t want to displease them. We’ll figure this out when it’s over.”

Aiden was surprised that he could now feel a new egg developing, his belly tightening slightly. He cringed. He should have been working on laying, not getting more blocked up. Yet he stood.

“It can’t be helped,” Roscow repeated, with guilt.

“I understand,” said Aiden, his eyes on the ground.

Roscow escorted Aiden back to the building on the others side of the farm, where Aiden assumed Roscow held business meetings. The third floor was the suite where Chambers was staying. When the man answered the door, he was only wearing a bathrobe. He pulled Aiden inside, giving Roscow a nod and a smirk.

When the door closed, Chambers was already running his hands along Aiden’s body. He paid special attention to the mound, rubbing, stroking, pulling Aiden’s shirt up to examine it.

Aiden groaned. “Gentle,” he said. They were eggs, after all.

Chambers simply smiled and pulled Aiden to the bed.

-

Chambers had Aiden ride him.

Though it caused less risk to the eggs, it was undeniably difficult. Aiden was flushed and panting, stunned by how heavy he felt. Chambers was still fully sheathed, still throbbing inside Aiden, but he seemed in no rush. He was watching Aiden intently, his indifference corrupted only by a flush of his cheeks and an increase of his breaths.

Chambers held the mound, seeming intrigued by Aiden’s chubbiness. “You look good like this.”

Aiden closed his eyes and continued to catch his breath. He gasped when he felt his belly tense up again. “I—I have to—”

But Chambers held his hips and kept him in place. Aiden whimpered as his belly tightened, visibly bloating up just slightly before their eyes. Chambers quirked his lips in apparent amusement. “Carry on,” he hissed.

Vacillating between pleasure and discomfort, Aiden got back to work.

-

Aiden awoke to Chambers’s dark chuckling.

His breath shuddering, Aiden opened his eyes.

He shifted experimentally, then trembled. He was tighter than he had ever been in his life.

It was morning time, and he hadn’t laid a single egg since early the day before. Aiden struggled out of bed, not bothered to ask this time.

Only once he had squatted down in the corner, did he marvel at how large he was. He grunted and pushed, his face flushing red, and his belly quivering visibly.

He looked as though he was eight months along in a live pregnancy, his belly plump and round on his slim form. Aiden braced his hands on his knees and pushed some more. It took an unreasonable amount of effort, but he felt an egg finally push out of him. He shifted slightly to catch a glimpse of what color it was.

He swallowed.

Beige.

Chambers got up, pulled on some pajama pants, and wrapped his robe about him. To Aiden’s surprise, he walked out of the room. Aiden took the opportunity to push some more.

Five minutes, and another egg, later, the door opened again. Aiden looked up, expecting Chambers, but it was the farmer. Aiden reddened, suddenly embarrassed by his state of nudity, but did it really matter? He was property.

Roscow perused him with a frown. He glanced around the messy sex-smelling room and grumbled something about big wigs ruining his producers. Then he crouched down opposite Aiden to appraise him, sighing.

Aiden suspended his efforts to push. He lowered to his knees and tried to catch his breath.

“Better not to interfere,” Roscow said. “The Chambers family usually gets what it wants.” He gave Aiden a pitying look. “It looks like you’re holding up.” He continued to examine Aiden’s body, his gaze lingering on Aiden’s belly. Of course, Roscow was worried about the merchandise.

“Sir—” Aiden began.

The door swung open, signaling that Chambers had returned. He was carrying a breakfast tray, his brows rising as he took notice of Roscow.

Roscow straightened. “I trust your stay is going well,” he said nonchalantly. “Are you pleased with 9-6-C?”

“Immensely,” said Chambers, his eyes glinting nefariously. Aiden mused that his voice was slightly nasal, which seemed to suit his subtle snobbishness. As he brought the tray to the bed, Aiden attempted to return to his squat, but Chambers said, “Come Aiden. It’s time for breakfast.”

Aiden was surprised that he had been addressed by name. Even the farmer didn’t address him so personally. Drawn to the unexpected humanization, Aiden climbed unsteadily to his feet and felt himself gravitate towards the bed.

“Well enjoy your day,” said Roscow, departing.

Aiden and Chambers ignored him.

“Sit down,” said Chambers. “You are heavily burdened with children.”

Children. Aiden shuddered at the thought.

He eased himself down on the bed. Chambers propped him up on some pillows, making him comfortable. “M-Mr. Chambers—” Aiden knew that it was not his place to speak, but couldn’t help it.

“Call me Dean,” Chambers interrupted.

Aiden was stunned. “Dean…” he experimented.

“Now eat. You need to keep up your strength, and your calcium.”

Because it was true, he did so. Aiden lifted the fork and brought some vegetables to his mouth. He almost flinched at the potent chemical taste. It was one of the meals with the doubled dosage of inductors. The drugs that had him producing ten eggs a day.

“Go ahead. Eat,” Dean encouraged.

Aiden didn’t want to, and he knew that it was against Roscow’s desires. And yet it had been an order.

Aiden ate slowly, but not so slowly that he seemed as though he was being intentionally mutinous. He could feel the uncomfortable tightness in his belly increase, though he might have been imagining it. How many eggs was he carrying by then? He realized that he had lost count. Dean watched him until he finished. Aiden took several deep breaths, sweating slightly.

Moving the tray away to the nightstand, Dean returned his attention to Aiden’s belly, as he seemed obsessed with it. Aiden shivered slightly as Dean rubbed his hand firmly along the bloated expanse. “Do you think they're all fertilized yet?” he said, eyes glimmering with excitement.

Aiden gulped, and did not respond.

The more he thought about it, the more his situation was unreasonable. He was surprised that there wasn’t legislation regarding limits on Layer reproduction. Then again, he doubted it was a common issue, or that there was precedent. People usually employed Layers for financial gain, not for the burden of offspring.

Aiden had no idea how he would handle the quantity of children they were producing. No one seemed to care, not Dean, not Roscow, or the farm workers. The fertilized eggs were legally Aiden’s, and in consequence, it was his problem. It was ironic that he had contracted himself to dig his family out of debt, but instead was burying himself worse. He knew he had the option of destroying the eggs before they reached a certain stage of development, but he didn’t think he could bring himself to do it.

Aiden released a small belch.

Dean chuckled and stood. “You seem tense. How about a bath?” He offered his hand.

Aiden reached out and took it.

The hot water duly eased his tense muscles that were unaccustomed to the weight in his abdomen.

Dean climbed in behind him, his erection pressing Aiden’s back. But rather than seeking entrance, he reached down and lifted one of Aiden’s legs to the edge of the tub. “I noticed you’ve been having some trouble laying. I think the water will help loosen you up.”

Aiden’s face reddened as Dean spread him wider. Then Dean wrapped his arms around him, pulling Aiden closer against his back. He rubbed Aiden’s belly firmly—too firmly to feel safe. And yet he rubbed it up and down.

Aiden felt the pressure on his girth increase on his hips. He grunted.

He had never given birth like this, so close to someone else, so intimate. He groaned, arching his back.

He pushed the egg against his opening, feeling it crown, to finally pop free into the water. Aiden didn’t have to check to see if it was fertilized. He gasped for breath.

Dean continued his rubs. Aiden’s belly was practically throbbing. Dean squeezed him slightly, and Aiden released a high, weak noise, before another egg began to crown.

“You’ve got it,” Dean encouraged, just before the egg popped free. He cupped Aiden’s belly, tapping it thoughtfully, as the younger man panted. Aiden’s stomach shuddered with a gentle contraction. His face was sweaty and red.

“You know the fertilized ones grow,” Dean murmured in his neck. “The longer you carry, the harder it is to birth them.

Aiden’s eyes widened at the information, but Dean didn’t seem too concerned. He stroked Aiden’s belly, lightly, fondly.

“Why don’t you come with me?” said Dean, after several moments. “I’ve been looking for a good breeder. I know it’s not what you're used to, but if you agree…I’m willing to cut the years on your contract in half.”

Aiden was stunned. He stared at the tile wall opposite them. Dean was offering him ten years forgiveness with no penalty, but with the added responsibility of…breeding. It was no different from his work at the farm, though it entailed the production of actual…children. Lots of them. However many Dean wanted. The thought was unnerving. Aiden’s gaze dropped to the clouds of foam drifting across the water.

Aiden knew that his twenty-year contract with the farm was iron-clad, and nothing could disrupt it. Except Dean. He had the power.

Dean smiled into his nape. “Let’s go to bed.” He climbed out of the water and grabbed a towel.

“Yes,” Aiden heard himself whisper. From his periphery, he could see Dean glancing down at him, looking pleased.

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