Medication, Part 13 (Patreon)

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Summary: All his life, Tristan’s mother forced him to take a daily medication, but never really told him why. After Tristan goes off to college, he starts skipping doses, and finally realizes just what the medication is for. Monthly mpreg. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion.

Previous Chapter

-

Adam showed Tristan to his luggage, which sat whole and unruffled in an expansive closet off one of the halls. One of the maids helped dig out a change of clothes, and Tristan went into the bathroom where he carefully eased his body into a tank top and pair of pajama pants that thankfully still fit.

When Tristan walked out into the living room, the magician was waiting. Adam examined him.

Suddenly the material of Trisan’s top seemed to thin, becoming so formfitting, that it was molded to Tristan’s skin. He watched his belly button and nipples become so defined in the tight material that he might as well have been naked. Inches of his belly pushed out, becoming exposed beneath his shirt. Tristan felt his pants becoming snug around his plump ass. He reddened and glared at Adam, knowing that he’d been subjected to another growth spurt.

Adam smiled in return. “Shall we?”

Scowling, Tristan started forward. “Ohhh…” he swayed slightly struggling with his balance.

In an instant, Adam was beside him, ushering him along.

Tristan was led to a bedroom so expansive it was probably the size of his mother’s house. In it was elegant furniture, a wardrobe, and a large bed with satin sheets. Tristan swallowed as Adam closed the door behind them. Tristan didn’t know what Adam’s expectations were for him. Despite going through several pregnancies, Tristan was completely lacking in experience, though he had no intention of amending that any time soon.

Despite his reservations, Tristan made his way to the bed, desperate to get off his feet. He lay back with a groan, and was surprised by how comfortable the mattress was, even despite his condition. It melded against his bones, cradling him perfectly, while still supporting his belly. The babies squirmed, but in a contented manner. Tristan felt Adam settle down beside him. He felt Adam’s careful fingers stroke along his massive bump, and in such a comforting way.

Tristan didn’t remember falling asleep.

-

A few days later, Tristan was in labor.

He was perched on the bed in just a tank top, which had slid halfway up his flushed, swollen belly. His dick was hard for reasons beyond him. He was sweat-drenched and sobbing, as he suffered his most difficult labor yet. Even worse than the ones in the forest. He alternated between gripping his face and clutching his contracting orb. He was urged to change positions constantly, as attendants fretted over him, and Adam stood by, watching blankly. The whole thing was mortifying.

“They’re—too big,” Tristan puffed out breathlessly. He paused to release a long, hoarse groan, throwing his head back and arching, thrusting his belly outward, the mound belly feeling as though it was about to burst. The attendants tried to get him back into the “right” position, urged him to breathe, but it was all pointless to Tristan. He had gone through this several times before, and this was just impossible. He was a fucking blimp.

Tristan felt himself start to cry again, shaking with sobs. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted his mother.

“Almost there,” murmured one of the nurses. His pelvis ached. His ass swelled and burned.

He had a girl and two boys. Three large, but healthy, babies. When it was over, he scowled sleepily at Adam. Begged for the pills.

“Hm,” Adam responded as he sat down beside him, idly stroking his hair.

Tristan glared until he fell asleep.

-

Over the next several days, most of Tristan’s time was spent wearily nursing. He was already getting morning sickness. As much as he dreaded the progression of the new pregnancy, he was so used to it by then, it was just a part of his life at that point.

A third into the month, he was already getting visibly swollen. Really swollen. That was the day Adam kissed him.

Tristan had awoken early one morning, not sure if he was going to be sick again. He had been struggling to an upright position in bed when cool lips connected with his, as though he had accidentally crashed into them.

Of course, there was nothing unintentional about a kiss.

If there had been any nausea, it was rapidly forgotten. Tristan was frozen; stunned. Adam pulled back and looked at him thoughtfully. His eyes were cool, narrowed, observant. He seemed completely disinterested in the world and yet he tilted Tristan’s chin and leaned in again.

That was Tristan’s cue to shout and pull away, to cuff Adam across the face and possibly sneer in disgust even as the risk of punishment.

Instead, Tristan found himself allowing it, more intrigued than anything else. Adam slowly slid his hand to the side of Tristan’s throat, and pulled him deeper into the contact.

-

Being with Adam wasn’t horrible. The magician was even gentle and kind most of the time, notwithstanding his indifferent demeanor and the whole set-up—Tristan being cursed to perpetually produce their offspring. But as Tristan had noted, being pregnant had become normal for him.

Adam was laconic yet commanding in his bearing. When Adam pressed Tristan back into the mattress and leaned over him, Tristan held his breath, hesitating.

As sordid as this whole thing was, he’d had almost a dozen babies, without the fun part of the process of making them. He deserved this at least. So Tristan gave in.

-

A few weeks later, Tristan was allowed to visit his mother. He was wearing a button-down that was framed to his form, the buttons about to pop off by then. His belly was a massive globe on his hips, much wider than he was as it heaved and shivered. It was a strain to keep balanced, to simply walk against the weight of it, so he clung hard to Adam. Tristan looked as though he was about to burst. He felt like it too.

The round FF-cups on his chest sat high and bloated, nipples swollen to the size of coke caps, hot and throbbing in threat of leaking at any moment. He couldn’t bear to wear a bra, sensitive and engorged as they were. Instead they pushed freely into his straining shirt.

“Oh my!” said his mother at seeing him. She stared in shock at his belly.

“A—chair,” Tristan wheezed out.

His mother hurriedly provided one.

Adam helped sit him down, Tristan grunting as his belly eased against his lap. He spread his legs to cradle the huge mass, arching as his belly gave a powerful shudder that left him groaning. He felt cramped in his clothes, shirt straining to contain him. He felt the pressure of the unborn babies heavy on his pelvis. “Yes, we’re having q-q-quints,” Tristan managed, knowing that he was flushed and sweaty. He feebly cupped the underside of his belly, feeling as though it might spill away from him. His tits ached for relief, but he tried to contain it. Almost all of his focus was concentrated on keeping things from spilling out of him. He hummed as his belly heaved and jerked. He rubbed it desperately, breathless, his heart racing.

Adam was looking rather smug.

“I-I’m actually a b-bit overdue,” Tristan managed, exchanging a look with the magician.

His mother was momentarily at a loss for words. “That’s…never happened before,” she managed.

“Well it happens now,” said Tristan weakly. He grimaced against another jerk of his belly. “Is this f-for us?” he nodded forward to the meal prepared on the table, three plates set up.

“Oh. Yes,” said his mother.

“Great,” said Tristan. Through the quakes and discomfort, he somehow managed to lift his fork. He began to dig in enthusiastically, knowing that Adam was watching. Adam would be pleased to see him indulging, filling himself. Tristan ignored the strain, he just continued to eat.

“Oh, Tristan,” said his mother, her face crumbling, but she contained her tears. “I’m so—” Her eyes flicked up to Adam’s wary face. “H-happy for you.” But in her eyes, there was only pity.

Tristan managed to swallow his latest mouthful of food. “It’s okay.” he lowered his fork to take his mother’s hand. “I’m happy, mum. And believe it or not, I—I think I actually want more babies.” His smile was genuine, even against the strain and discomfort.

Adam wrapped his arms around him from behind, rubbing Tristan’s flanks, allowing his hands to circle all over the belly as the mound rose and fell, and it felt heavenly. Tristan groaned. Only Adam’s hands could seem to placate them.

Tristan felt a growing warmth, and braced himself as his insides tightened and tensed, until his belly began to rise like dough on his lap, shuddering forward. Buttons popped as his golf ball-sized belly button bulged out into the open. Tristan grunted and twisted, pleasured tears streaming down his face. His milk poured into his thin shirt, rendering him all but naked. Adam had promised he would not do this in front of his mother, but it appeared he had lied.

When the growth spurt ended, Tristan was red and gasping for breath, belly flushed as he slumped back, deeply wanting to lie down, but as long as Adam kept rubbing him, he thought he could manage.

It took Tristan a while to catch his breath. The babies felt and cramped, shifting lethargically inside him. Soon, he promised them, even though wasn’t sure when he would actually be giving birth to them. When Tristan finally opened his eyes, he saw that his mother looked completely disconcerted.

“As—as long as you’re happy,” she stammered as Adam threw her a lazy smile.

“I am. I promise,” Tristan nodded. And somehow he lifted his fork and took another bite of food.

The End