Midlife, Part 13 (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 

-

The next several weeks were a haze.

There were fucking and feeding sessions. It was constant, relentless, erotic, and delicious. Tom was put on a diet of extreme calorie intake alongside a regimen of appetite enhancers, fertility drugs, weight gain supplements, and metabolism depressants. He was medicated with special hormones for newborns designed to cause rapid development and fat gain in underweight babies. He was given lactation supplements that made his breasts balloon to the size of basketballs. He was pumped relentlessly with calories, his weight shooting up by pounds a day. His babies were rapidly growing, filling and stretching him. And all the while, Ian was an open book. That was the distinction. There were no more secrets. Ian told Tom exactly what he was doing with him, every devious thing.

Tom would moan and take it. For weeks, he endured constant growth spurts, watching his belly roll outward. His nipples looked like little teats in how swollen and distended they were, and would start squirting when Ian so much as gave them a glance. There was seldom a moment that Tom didn't have food in hand, shoving it down by the handful as the tightness inside of him intensified congruently.

His growth rate was so rapid and profound, there were times that he could see his belly steadily pushing out, and see his shirt tighten as his belly advanced, inching outwards. He could feel himself grow, babies getting bigger and fatter by the moment.

Then Ian would fuck more into him.

Tom was a cow, a whore, greedy for cock, just begging and keening. He wanted Ian’s cock. To be filled till he popped. He wanted to be as big as a planet, so everyone could see and know that he was Ian’s. He was filled with Ian. He bred, and swelled, and birthed for Ian. His body was Ian’s, and every baby they made was evidence of how perfectly Ian fucked and filled him.

Tom groaned and arched as Ian hammered his prostate, Tom’s dick hard and weeping, Ian’s chest pressed flush to his back, hands cupping Tom’s flanks though nowhere near capable of wrapping around him. “Gonna come,” Ian groaned on Tom’s nape, lips sliding against the sweat there. “Think you can take more? Don’t want you to blow. Think it can fit?”

“Do ittt!” Tom grunted, desperate for the familiar surge of pressure. He was on his knees, thighs spread, his huge belly perched against the mattress.

Ian came. It was an inhuman flood. Tom whined as his belly shuddered and tightened, his flushed body pouring sweat. He came messily against the underside of his mass, his nipples squirting.

“God, you are perfect,” said Ian wearily, stroking Tom’s tight, swollen flanks. “You always take it all. You’re so packed. You’re limitless. How many babies can you take?” Tom knew he wanted to find out.

Tom just grunted and tried to bear the increasing pressure as his newest babies settled there, adding to the tension in his over-packed stomach. He was a blimp; a baby-making machine. He was practically addicted.

-

It had taken weeks to get the warrant.

Penelope knew Tom's disappearance had to have something to do with the ex-boyfriend. The doctor. The mad scientist.

She cursed herself.

Things had gotten so comfortable, so safe and easy. Tom had completely turned his life around. He'd made massive strides, and had had no intention of backtracking. No one had even thought it to be possible. Tom was a new man. Even better than before. More loving, more committed, more present for the family. The possibility of failure had been null and void by then. It hadn't been possible.

But no one had ever suspected the scientist to interfere. This marked a substantial escalation in his tendencies. He had kidnapped her husband.

That was the only explanation. Because Tom would never go back. No way. This was criminal interference, and now Penny had a warrant to prove it.

"Lakefield police!" The cops shouted as they burst into the expansive, upscale apartment.

Penny followed them inside, keeping three steps behind them, as agreed. She was buzzing with both excitement and worry. She was relieved to finally have potentially found her husband, but it had been several weeks. She couldn't help the horrible things that raced through her mind. Ian could have been out for revenge. He could have hurt Tom. Or worse. Her heart was racing.

"Clear!" shouted the cop at the front of the pack, then he silently motioned for the other officers to follow as he moved into another room, gun held out in front of him. "Clear!" Onto the next room. Penelope's breathing was thin. What if they didn't find anything? She should have done more; should have known Tom was at risk. She should have kept him safe. Her eyes watered for the hundredth time that month, but she impatiently wiped her tears away and continued to trail the officers in front of her.

"Fuck!" the officer at the head of the group blurted. "God — I — we found something!"

Before the cops could stop her, Penny pushed her way forward, into a bedroom, where she froze.

Tom was…alive.

He was more than a life. Full of life, he was…

The bed had collapsed. Tom was perched on his knees, massively huge, bigger than she had ever seen him. And there were babies everywhere, cribs shoved into every wall and corner, a baby or two babbling or crying in each. Some sat or crawled on the carpeted floor. Not one shared the mattress with Tom, because there wasn't any room.

Tom was gigantic.

He was drooling and moaning, belly taking over every inch of the king-sized mattress. It was bigger than he was. He was just sort of attached to it. It looked like a bolder, as he slumped there, mouth ajar, making inhuman noises, hardly cognizant of his surroundings. Penny watched the mound shift and tremble, bulges of movement popping up at any moment. Sometimes the mass as a whole tensed or jumped, causing Tom to grunt or squeal out like an animal. His face was red, veins bulging on his forehead. Perched there, he was clearly immobile, bedbound by his own weight. Penny could see several tubes going into his arms, pumping him with what she assumed to be IV fat, nutrition, and drugs. There was a hose sticking into the corner his mouth—some sort of feeder. It was like he was an animal.

"Nnnrrghhhh…” Tom moaned, shifting his thighs, and then he started to push a baby out right there, right at that moment, unceremoniously giving birth is he groaned and arched. The newborn plopped out, and Tom whimpered.
Penny was aghast. "T-Tom — I —"

"More," Tom pleaded hoarsely, staring forward, but not seeing them. “Mmorree…” he begged. "N-neeed to be filled.” His nipples sprayed, some of the officers stumbling back.

Her tears spilling freely, Penny covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh Tom," she whispered.

She was too late.

The End