Midlife, Part 10 (Patreon)

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Summary: Tom is in his mid-forties. Comfortably married in suburbia  with his wife, office job, and his 2.5 kids getting ready for college, Tom finds himself immersed in an affair with a fit young biogeneticist. Tom  has no idea why he's gaining so much weight, and his wife has started making remarks about it. Little does he know, his secret boyfriend is not only experimenting on him but breeding him. Worse, Tom can apparently get pregnant additional times while already pregnant, and end up carrying multiple babies of different gestational ages. Its only a matter of time before his secret affair comes to light. That, in addition to other things. Contains: Male: pregnancy, breast expansion, belly expansion, butt expansion, stuffing, weight gain.

Previous Chapter 

-

Tom gripped the doorframe of the bedroom. He just couldn’t at that moment. He felt as though his knees would buckle at any second. “Sid,” he entreated weakly. “Can you…can you get your sister for me?” he casually asked.

At first, Sid looked at Kim in befuddlement. It took him a moment remember that he had another sister now. “Sure,” he said, his voice a little high. The normal Sid would have complained, or mentioned that he’d never picked up a baby in his life. The typical Sid would have dragged his feet and groused every moment of the task. But this Sid was different. This was pitying Sid. He felt sorry for Tom. And Tom couldn’t have been any more ashamed of himself.

Sid disappeared into the bedroom, and returned moments later with his baby sister balanced in his arms. Tom gingerly accepted her into his hold. Sid went back to lingering in the corner, seeming to want to melt into the walls. The apartment was too small. Everything felt uncomfortable and awkward there, with the three — well, four of them. Tom hesitated, but the baby was so fitful, and he couldn’t put it off any longer. He eased his left breast out of his shirt and allowed her to latch on, because he just didn’t have the strength to do this somewhere more private.

Kim glanced his way then visibly jolted as a disgruntled noise came up her throat. “’The fuck? Could you be any more disgusting!?” she snapped.

“Hey!” Tom shouted back, though he didn’t know where he found the energy. “I’m still your father! Don’t talk to me like that!” Myra detached and resumed her wailing.

“You’re a freak!” Kim retorted. “I don’t even know why we’re here!”

“You’re here to spend time with your father and your new baby sister. It’s not that complicated, Kim! Everything isn’t about you!”

“No, because everything is about you!” Kim cried back, and Tom found himself startled, not by her words, or how her voice broke, but by the unadulterated candor in what she said. Tom had been nothing but selfish, caring only about himself, monopolizing Penelope’s attention, shoving the kids aside. He had made every moment of every day about his swollen body. His interests superseded the needs of everyone around him. Why had it taken his own daughter shouting in his face for him to realize his selfishness?

There was a forceful jolt of tension that practically caused his belly to bounce. “Ohhh!”

“You okay?” Sid hesitantly approached.

Tom handed the baby back to his son as discomfort surged from his abdomen to his backside, then back again. The pressure shifted and swelled, causing him to unconsciously hold his ass. His belly gave another forceful bob that left him grunting out.

“Ew, why are you doing that!?” Kim cried, pointing to where Tom was gripping his own backside.

Tom drew in a deep breath. “You see…” he managed, breathlessly but calmly. “As I get closer to delivery —”

“Ew!” Kim repeated, clearly not wanting the answer after all.

His belly heaved again, causing him to grimace. It shuddered and he wheezed out, willing the babies to calm down. There was another surge of tension, his abdomen seeming to squeeze in on itself. “Ohh…” He moaned, unconsciously bending slightly. Kim and Sid were looking at him in complete panic.

But these were more braxton hicks. “It’s okay,” he assured them. “False contractions. It’s just practice labor.” He sucked in air then puffed it out again as he waited for it to pass. “Everything’s fine, it will all be – oh god!” The pain spiked. Something started to bulge against his hand. Tom screamed.

The pain was excruciating, between the contractions of his belly and the burning of his backside. His ass shuddered, and something popped free. A head! Tom arched his throat, an inhuman wail clawing its way out. Everything proceeded so fast, something lurching out of him as his belly clenched again. Tom struggled to support it, his pants sagging and flopping down as he barely managed to hold onto a newborn baby.

It was slippery and wet as Tom clumsily navigated it up to his chest. It was covered in blood, releasing its first hoarse cries, sort of curled in on itself, but squirming feebly. Completely shellshocked, Tom held the baby close.

A boy.

“H-hello…911?” Sid stammered on the phone, somewhere in Tom’s periphery.

The newborn had managed to find Tom’s nipple. Big as the nub was, the baby had managed to latch on, and was nursing. Tom could feel Kim gawking at him in silent horror, Sid continuing to awkwardly explain the situation to the 911 operator he was talking to on his cell phone.

“It’s okay,” said Tom breathlessly, feebly trying to comfort his, now four, children. Despite that he could hardly comfort himself. He felt as though he was in shock. “It’s okay…” Tears were running down his cheeks. He was in so much discomfort, anguish, and humiliation. His belly was still giving spasms, and he wasn’t even sure if another baby would pop out as he stood there pathetically, while balancing his slimy newborn. A new child should have been a happy occasion but all he felt was devastation. “It’s okay kids. Everything is j-just fine.”

-

Every time Tom checked his voicemail, there seemed to be a dozen messages from Ian. Tom always deleted them without bothering to listen. Tom knew he would have to deal with the scientist eventually. The two babies were his children after all, as well as the fetuses still packed inside of Tom. It wasn’t as though Ian could be indefinitely ignored, legally speaking. This whole thing was a mess.

He was middle-aged, and growing a whole new family as the former slipped further and further away. Tom still couldn’t believe what his new doctor had told him. That he was going to have five more labors, seven infants in total. He had gotten himself knocked up with seven children somehow. It was terrifying and mortifying. It was something he could hardly explain even to himself, though it was the first thing anyone inquired about. Not that Tom made a habit of leaving his apartment more than scarcely. But now there were doctors appointments and custody hearings. Exposure was unavoidable.

“I’d prefer if visitation was limited to one weekend a month, at least for the time being,” Penelope said to the judge during court that evening.

It was blatantly unreasonable. “For christsake’s Penny, they’re my kids to!” Tom forced out, getting frustrated, but also getting flustered. It didn’t do well for his condition, the babies producing a flurry of movement in his belly as he tried not to groan from the discomfort. He gripped hard on his cane.

Everything about this divorce was proving unreasonable. The child support payments he had to make to Penny were draining him financially. He was only part time at work now, and had to deal with the expenses of his new place, two new babies, medical treatment, and court fees. And babies were expensive. They necessitated clothing, bottles, cribs, medical checkups, formula, and a shit ton of diapers. Not to mention time--lots of it. At that point, Tom was barely getting by. And all of this wasn’t even factoring in the fact that he had another five babies coming, and soon. Really soon. Tom grunted and gripped the side of his belly as it heaved and puffed out, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He still hadn’t recovered from his delivery the week before, and felt dizzy from fatigue. The constant nursing also took a lot out of him. He knew that he looked like a mess. He felt like one too.

Penelope met his gaze for the first time in weeks, as she blinked back the tears in her eyes, where she stood on the opposite side of him, facing the judge. Tom’s overwhelming surge of guilt was only secondary to his desperation to keep his unborn babies inside of him, as he fervidly rubbed his mound, silently willing them to calm down. His shirt had started to strain, diamonds of flesh pushing out between the buttons. So he stood there, panting like a dog, hardly able to catch his breath from the mere exertion of existing. But then, he was incubating nearly half a dozen humans. Lately he had come to think of himself as a “fucking baby factory.”

“As I’m sure you can see, judge, Tom is in no condition to be watching our two children,” Penny said. “During their last visit, he practically traumatized them!”

“Oh, c’mon!” Tom protested.

The judge turned her attention to Tom, giving him a scrutinizing look. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seeming to only just appreciate the absurd dimensions of his body. Tom was almost a bit charmed that he had been briefly ridden off as an obscenely fat person. The judge twisted her lips, as though trying to devise the right way to inquire, “Mr. Duval, can I ask what your… What’s going on with…? Is this some sort of…medical issue? You look as though you’re — I mean —”

“I’m pregnant,” Tom puffed out, which was incredibly hard, but he was getting used to admitting it out loud. Though this wasn’t a public hearing, everyone in the room who could stare at him — the clerks, the transcriber, the bailiff, a janitor — paused to do just that.

Tom knew his belly was wider than the podium, his flanks bulging out on either side of it. His mass separated him from the podium by a couple of feet, so he could not reach it with his fingertips. He feared his belly outspanned his arms by then.

He should have been getting smaller after the recent birth, but with all his uncontrollable binge-eating, his weight was only climbing. His doctor had expressed astonishment, not only at Tom’s predicament, but the sheer size of him and the fetuses. Even the newborns, though healthy, had likely broken national records for their birth weight. “I can’t say I’m even sure how you managed to give birth to this one,” the doctor had said upon his examination of Ethan, Tom’s youngest.

“I know it’s quite — unusual,” Tom told the judge. “And yes, it’s a struggle; I have a lot on my plate right now. But Kim and Sid are still my kids. You can’t just let her shut me ou — ohhhhh…nrrrghhhhh…” Cane clattering to the floor, Tom arched, his belly pressing hard into the podium as he felt another surge of tension. Oh god, not now, he thought, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He hugged what he could reach of his belly. Please…babies…just another couple minutes.

The judge’s jaw was hanging, and so was everyone else’s, except for Penny, who sniffed, and said, “He did this to himself, judge. He’s like — like some science experiment. I think he’s addicted to it. Getting himself pregnant, and — and cheating. This has been going on for almost a year, and he just doesn’t stop. He needs serious help, and I don’t want this around my children.”

For a while, the judge didn’t know how to react. She looked from Penelope to Tom, as though this was some awful joke. Finally, she said, “this situation is…erm… unprecedented. Mr. Duval, I would like some documentation regarding your…condition. I will schedule a new hearing in two weeks time.”

Just the thought of coming back to court was almost painfully exhausting, especially when Tom knew he had court dates with Ian coming up. He was going through two different custody battles with two different former partners.

“Judge, I…” He trailed off for a moment, losing his breath again, and left gasping for air. His face was flushed and he was sweating profusely. He could feel his bra padding reach maximum saturation, moisture seeping into his custom-made button-down shirt. He was already nearly popping out of his clothing, he might as well lactate into it as well. “My, um, my n-next delivery is coming up,” Tom managed, his eyes watering more from the sheer humiliation of talking about his recurring task of giving birth like it was some work meeting or something. His breasts felt uncomfortably tight. He had been due to nurse the babies over an hour ago. He could see his nipples bulging hard and swelling, his breast flesh cutting into the HHH-cup bra he had on. Whenever he missed a pumping or nursing, his breasts seemed to jump up another cup size. One of his hands unconsciously cupped the underside of his right breast, the other one still planted on his throbbing abdomen. “Oh god,” he breathed.

In the end, the judge did not accommodate him. The judge wasn’t even sure how to. Especially when Tom could hardly talk, let alone explain when his next labor would be, or the one after that, or how frequently they would occur, or how long until it would all be over.

“You can hardly handle court appearances, but you think you have time for more visitation?” Penny said bitterly as they left the court, Tom struggling to trudge forward with the aid of his cane.

Outside, he leaned heavily on the wall, just catching his breath. Ian was the last person he’d wanted to see lurking there, waiting to corner him.

“Can we talk?” Ian entreated.

The scientist was always trying to slip back into Tom’s life. Penelope scoffed at the two of them and marched off to the parking lot. Tom couldn’t have escaped had he tried.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Tom managed. His belly was visibly pulsating, out and in, out and in.

Tom felt like a joke. He could imagine the upcoming hearings with Ian. Having to explain his condition all over again to another judge. Discussing the two newborns and the five babies packed inside of him, arguing over custody for each. Sorting out the details as Ian fought him tooth and nail on every little thing. Maybe Ian would use the same angle as Penelope; argue that Tom was too pregnant to take care of his new babies. Now that was ironic. Maybe the judge would think this was all some weird gag and arrest Tom for contempt. Tom would have released a bitter laugh if he’d had the energy.

“Please,” Ian said. “Just one cup of coffee.”

Tom was highly reluctant to introduce caffeine to his seemingly hyper litter. “Then will you leave me alone? No more leaving me messages or emails, or knocking at my door?” The home visits have been particularly irritating. Tom wasn’t sure how Ian had gotten his new address.

“Promise,” said Ian.

As much as Tom resented the man, there could be an upside. Maybe they could work something out amongst themselves in terms of custody. It would be a relief not to have to come to court with it.

“Fine,” said Tom in resignation. He glared hatefully at the other man.

Slowly, Ian smiled.