Malcolm, Part 4 (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

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Simon the Soccer Player

Things did not go over well with his parents.

First they had laughed, thinking the prominent bulge in Simon’s shirt was some ridiculous joke. But soon they noticed the uneasiness on Simon’s face, his jaw clenched and apologetic. They sobered, then paled. Things went downhill from there.

Simon’s father unleashed a loud, insulting tirade that was littered with too many gay slurs to count, while the word “freak” punctuated every sentence. Simon was no stranger to being yelled at, between his upbringing and being on various sports teams.

So, Simon stiffly endured it as he stood there on the front porch. Neighbors poked their heads out of doors and windows, his mother dissolving to noisy sobs as his father’s rant went on.

When it was finally over, Simon’s parents did not invite him inside. Instead, his father roughly pointed his thick finger, declaring that Simon was disowned and should get off his property. “Look at you.” Simon’s father sneered. “Disgusting. Get out of here before I make you.”

Simon left.

An hour later, Simon was at a park one neighborhood over, seated on an old bench to rest because…because he was heavy and tired these days. And he hadn’t really known where he was walking to, anyway.

He gazed blankly at the uneven grass, the swing-set, and the faded asphalt that covered the basketball court. The day was humid and muggy, the grass wet from a stray thunderstorm earlier in the day. It was a bad neighborhood, but Simon had chosen it because he didn’t think he would bump into anyone he knew here. The park was empty except for him, so he sat there and stared out at nothing. Strangely calm. Not knowing how to process things. Or just electing not to.

Finally, Simon looked down at himself, at the source of his problems. The prominent swell that was so fucking obvious on his slim, athletic build. Stretching out his shirt so much that there were gaps of skin visible between the buttons. He looked as though he was seven months pregnant, his belly button sticking out like an oven timer. He could hardly believe how quickly he had grown this thing. That hookup couldn’t have been more than a few months ago. Yet he was positively ballooning. He was becoming an absolute blimp.

Simon felt a pang of regret. That stupid bar hookup. How could he have known that something like this was going to happen? Simon might have even been able to get rid of it if he had realized his condition soon enough. But there was just no way. Apparently, the rules were different for men. The condition was more complicated, and not understood as well. Consequently, there was a smaller window in which a man was allowed to get abortion (granted it was available in one’s town). He would have had to do it by the two month mark.

Which was a joke, because Simon hadn’t even suspected he was pregnant until a couple weeks ago. Despite his increasing weight and inflating midsection, pregnancy had been the last thing to cross his mind. And why would it? A couple months ago, Simon had thought male pregnancy to be some ridiculous hoax limited to random online articles.

But it was real, apparently. Simon was now intimately aware of that. And he hated it. He wanted to undo it, or just to…end it. To get it over with, he meant. It was something to look forward to if nothing else. Maybe once this was over, he could get back to his old life somehow. He could re-enroll in college, fix things with Coach, and get his parents to forgive him.

And if not…he could always get a job, or something. Though not now. Not like this. Simon doubted anyone would hire him when he was like this.

But later, after he had this thing, he could be normal again, and be free of this nightmare.

Not for the first time, Simon wondered why this had happened to him of all people. Why did he have this disgusting ability? Could it really just be normal human evolution? Being evolved should have been a good thing. Instead, Simon had become fat, fertile, and feminine when he should have been a man. He was a jock, a star athlete. He should have been masculine and strong. Not soft and round, as he had become. Not someone a real man would look to as a good candidate for breeding. Someone to pump full of babies, then watch fondly as Simon dutifully fattened and incubated.

“Eugh,” Simon said, trying to wipe his mind the notion. He had lost his college placement and he had lost his budding soccer career. He was becoming some useless, docile nobody with nothing to work toward. The type of barefoot-and-pregnant 1950s housewife who needed to be taken care of, for lack of having anything else to offer the world other than having babies for some man. Being bredby some man.

Simon tried not to think of that stupid fucking rando who had unwittingly planted this baby in him.

Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The battery was still halfway full, so he opened the web browser. Despite his uneasiness, he started to look up information on his condition. Some of the details were surprising. It turned out that some pregnant men were able to get induced early – even as early as the seventh month in certain cases.

But to do this, they needed the other father to…have sex with them. Top them, specifically. And if not, the pregnant man needed to find a guy with compatible genetic markers. There were seven different kinds, so there was a 1 in 7 chance of finding the right guy, roughly. Some markers were more common than others. God, this was confusing. But that was the basic gist of it. The only other way to induce labor was for the pregnant man to go to a specialized hospital for expensive genetic testing and a synthetic treatment that substituted as an actual marker.

It all seemed unfairly difficult; even if Simon found some guy to induce him, there was no way of telling if the guy even had the compatible genetic markers Simon needed. On top of that, Simon couldn’t even imagine having sex in his condition. He cringed at the thought. He doubted that anyone in their right mind would even be interested. His body was just so round. So round and awful. Frankly, he didn’t want anyone even looking at him.

It wasn’t as though Simon had ever been all that active, sexually. He had experimented a time or two. But promptly getting pregnant? His life was a fucking joke!

Simon inhaled deeply. He tried not to get emotional about the mess he was in. Instead, he thought more about the induction thing as pragmatically as he could. He wanted to get induced as quickly as possible. If he put together some money, he could go to the hospital and get it over with.

Of course, Simon had just been disowned. He doubted he would still have access to the joint bank accounts he had with his parents. He had a couple dollars to his name, and not even anywhere to stay at the moment.

The sky was dimming rapidly. Simon gazed out at it, feeling hopeless and chilly. He fidgeted, but reminded himself that he was okay. This was fine. He had spent the night outside on numerous occasions, whether he was camping or just out partying with his friends. It was no big deal. He would figure something out. Again, he tried to clear his mind; shake off the day. A lot of things had happened that day, but he wouldn’t let it overwhelm him.

“Hey.”

Simon jumped. He looked up in shock to see a stranger standing in front of him. The guy seemed to have come out of nowhere. Simon didn’t notice the way his own hands had shot down to clutch his belly, which stretched out the shirt he had on.

“You’re young…” the stranger mused, his eyes trailing over Simon’s body. “And you’re…jeez…” The guy was nondescript, almost in a strategical way. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, and was wearing a T-shirt, sports jacket, some baggy jeans, and a baseball cap. After staring at Simon’s swell for what felt like forever, the guy finally wrenched his gaze away to meet Simon’s eyes with a determined look. “Five hundred bucks,” he said flatly.

Simon sat frozen, still trying to process what the hell this was.

Simon looked around. Only then did he notice about two cars standing at the curb outside the park, the vehicles on but their headlights turned off. There was also another person, a guy, several yards away by the trees, sort of just…lingering around.

And then things started to make sense. Was this a gay cruising spot? Or a hooker hotspot? Well, the two things weren’t mutually exclusive. It was certainly one of them, at least.

Simon slowly returned his attention to the guy in the baseball cap, feeling stunned. Not only at the proposition, but the fact that someone actually wanted to have sex with him? And even pay him for it? Even with Simon’s freakish pregnancy, which couldn’t have been more obvious in his undersized shirt?

Five hundred bucks? Simon thought, truly baffled. This all seemed truly seedy and gross, the idea of whoring himself for cash, and with his disgusting body…. Shit, but five hundred dollars was a lot of money. Simon wasn’t sure he would ever encounter this kind of opportunity again in his life. And then there was the genetic markers thing. Who knew, maybe Simon would get lucky. Maybe this guy would induce him, and all Simon’s problems would be over that very night.

“Okay,” Simon managed, his chest feeling constricted. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

Five minutes later, they were in the foliage, Simon bracing himself against a tree as he let the stranger fuck him. Simon was red and grunting with each jerk of his body, belly practically bouncing as the guy cupped his waist then explored indulgently, running his hands along Simon’s swell in a way that felt truly disturbing. They hadn’t even really gotten undressed, they just pushed their pants to their knees, and the guy had drawn up Simon’s shirt sometime in the midst of things, truly wanting to explore the bare, taut bulge on Simon’s abdomen.

The stranger was rambling: “God, I — I never — been with a —oh godd — a pregnant guy, I didn’t even know they had those here — fuck—”

Then he came, the guy clutching Simon, practically squeezing him; holding his belly like it was a totem.

Then it was over.

Simon gasped and blushed as he sank to his knees then all fours. He wasn’t going to deny that he’d come. His pregnancy had made him increasingly horny over the months – another feature he had been in quiet denial of.

“Thanks, kid,” the guy said breathily as he threw something onto the ground beside Simon. Simon squinted and made out a wad of cash. He almost couldn’t believe it. “That’s one for the archives,” the guy laughed as he lightly tapped his temple. “Well uh…see you around. Hopefully.”

Then the guy backed away and disappeared, as Simon struggled to tuck himself back into his clothes, his mind reeling. He grabbed the money.

An hour later, Simon was in a nice room at a mid-level hotel in the city center. He was wearing a fluffy robe, his body no longer feeling uncomfortably compressed in clothes it didn’t fit into. And he was stuffing his face with all the comfort food he could find on the room service menu, presently indulging in a second serving of macaroni and cheese. It was a stark contrast from where he had just been, and it was the happiest he had felt in ages. There was none of the tension and discomfort of trying to hide his condition at college, the hyper awareness of people looking at him, the anguish over Coach’s and his parents’ reactions. The fear of homelessness and the uncertainty beyond…

Things were still uncertain, but Simon was grateful for the reprieve, even if it was only temporary. God, this felt good. The decadence of eating hot, delicious food while sprawled in a soft bed, wearing a fluffy robe, and watching the latest movie releases on a 70inch TV screen.

He felt safe. Simon ate his way through his large variety of delicious appetizers, and three ice cream sundaes for dessert. He dozed off before he could finish the movie and slept soundly despite the background noise of the television, and the light still being on, and the dirty dishes surrounding him.

He awoke the following morning with a sleepy smile, just breathing and enjoying the warmth and solitude as he gazed at the ceiling and appreciated these couple of moments until…until it was time to assess reality again.

The money wasn’t going to last more than a week, two if he really tried. The five hundred dollars hadn’t fixed his problems by any means. But it had bought him some time and comfort, a metaphorical bandaid that was slowly peeling away because the wound was too large.

Before even thinking about what he was doing, Simon sat up and pulled out his phone. He went to a popular website, a sort of online classifieds. The website was popular for buying and selling used items, and for off-the-books jobs or lease-free rentals. But most people used it for illegal transactions. Drugs and sex. Simon couldn’t believe he was doing this.

But before he could stop himself, he was typing away, putting up an ad of his own. Short and to the point: Companion for hire. Pregnant college guy. Admittedly a weird situation, but if you’re interested in my…companionship…

Aaannd, submit. The post went public.

Simon was breathing heavily, feeling insane as he read over his listing. He put his phone down beside him, then laid back, again staring at the ceiling.

So, he was doing this. He really was. But what were the chances that he got any interest, anyway? The park had been a one-time thing. Simon truly doubted that anyone would actually take this ad seriously, let alone respond and solicit sex from him. That — that would just be ridiculous.

Simon absently rested his hands on his belly, feeling the warm firmness of the swell through the robe.

He started to think about what he would do if he didn’t get any responses. Likely, that would be worse. Far worse.

Simon closed his eyes and gulped.

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