Thinking about what it’d be like if my tits produced milk based on how horny I am… Stuff like being called pet names or having my chest groped would have milk bead at my nipples and drip down my tummy, while having someone play with my cowpussy or actively giving attention to my nipples would have my milk come out in thick streams- and of course, being bred would have my tits squirting out enough milk to fill buckets in minutes~
For peak milk production, I’d have to be kept constantly drippy and dumb~ Something like being hooked up to a fucking machine 24/7, or being forced to wear a thick, vibrating plug in my puffy cowpussy whenever not being filled by an actual cock would make sure my tits never stopped producing milk~
Ball Egg Sack
His balls are
His balls are so full.
They ache with fullness. The soft skin stretched and corded with veins and markings like the womb it’s pretending to be. Work is impossible. He can’t go out, not like this. He can’t even sit anymore, let alone drive. His ball sack feels heavy between his legs like an udder on a cow. So full and heavy, his legs are kept constantly apart, and he tries to ease the weight with his arms and gentle rubs, but gravity is stronger. The skin tugs with a pleasurable pain, and it only amplifies all his feelings. His balls started out smaller at first before they grew and kept growing. The pressure is the hardest part. His cock twitches and throbs above the massive mound that used to be his testicles. A steady stream of cum drips down the shaft. It only takes a few loving rubs of his swollen ball sack and a few touches on the head of his cock before the man is spraying sperm across his belly, the bed, and his heavy, so heavy balls.
The bed becomes his sanctuary in the few days his balls swell, but they aren’t slowing down.
Ever since that creature came, this was the reality now, and god only knows when it will end. They keep growing. They don’t stop getting bigger and bigger.
The creature laid eggs inside of him. It fucked him and filled him with it’d spawn, and the oddest thing is—it’s the man’s fault.
Adrian Relaxing yoga - MPREG
being a surogate and had 4 babies inside you its hard. Alot of adrian body changes such as his breast and hips and that breast full of baby milk :3
like my art and want to support me ? go to my PATREON follow me on [twitter][deviantart]
KLY needs new pants-MPREG
after a while kly body keeps changing through his pregnancy and he really needs a new pants…..or maybe some new shirts too
maybe after this he will go shopping for maternity clothes
like my art support me on PATREON and follow me on twitter , deviantart
Taking Groceries- Patrons Request
While Remi in work, kly walk to the supermarket and taking out groceries. he needs to walk around to help him with labor soon
request from Patreon
Based on 355.14, you can credit me as Musica
There was a new store in the mall, right next door to the Build-a-Bear Workshop, with absolutely no windows and an actual door, rare for a mall shop that was clearly open.
Maria watched the storefront with interest as she ate her lunch. As she watched, three people went in alone and two came out with newborn infants in the 45 minutes she’d been sitting there. The alarm she’d set on her phone went off and she stood with a sigh to clear her table and go back to work. On her way, she noted the name of the store, Build-a-Baby.
Maria let out a relieved sigh the second she walked in the front door of her house. She’d been lucky, in some aspects, inheriting the large house and a rather large sum of money from her grandparents when she’d turned 20. The only problem was the fact that the house was far too large for just her all by herself, but all the luck she had on the financial front hadn’t transferred to the family building front so far.
She took a moment to just enjoy not being in public before going to make dinner, sitting down with her computer to do a bit of research.
Build-a-Baby sounded like just the thing she’d been looking for. She printed out the necessary paperwork and filled everything out in preparation for her next day off.
Matt had been hired at the business company 9 months ago, and finally after constantly sucking up to his boss, he had been invited to his first conference meeting. It was only going to be a 3 hour meeting but all the higher ups in the company were going to be there. There was only one problem- Matt was 9 months pregnant- with triplets After Matt had received the call, letting him know that he had gotten the job, he went out to celebrate with some friends. Having had a few drinks too many he seemed to catch the eye of the hot bartender and one thing leading to another had Matt spending all night and the subsequent morning getting railed to high heaven. He reached a new record with amount of orgasms in one period that night. He had woken up this morning, excited for his first business meeting and with ideas on impressing his superiors when those thoughts were dashed as he sat up. Moaning, he realized how hard he was, not to mention soaking wet. It seemed that during the night all three of his babies had repositioned themselves over that spot inside of him, and Matt now had over 30 lbs of his babies pushing right against his prostate.
So the new Rise of the Titans movie on Netflix involved a bit of mpreg as a side plot. Steve became pregnant with his girlfriend’s babies thanks to sharing a 7th kiss with her. It ends up with him giving birth towards the ending/climax of the film.
Source: Netflix: Rise of the Titans
You’ve been fighting labor all day, denying what was happening. Refusing to push even as the head opened you deep inside. The baby slowly being born.
Even now, you bury your attention in your phone, or on your computer. Ignoring another devastating contraction. Biting back a groan as the pressure deep inside gets worse.
Summary: Sequel to Due. Fred’s visit to Derek in jail leads to a chain of uncomfortable events. Contains: Mpreg/belly expansion, male breast expansion, male butt expansion.
Fred awoke with a start. He reached out to his night stand and turned off his alarm. His room was dark, but it was time to get ready for work.
Fred started to get up. At least he tried to. It was a slow process, heaving himself up from his back until his large ball of a mound was resting in his lap. His bottom was tense and trembled slightly beneath him. He felt like a baby might pop right out. But they weren’t nearly ready. Fred rubbed his heated belly and decided to take things slow.
By the time Fred got to his feet, he was already panting. He supported the underside of the mound with one hand as he picked out some clothes with the other. He would have to skip his shower—he had bathed last night after all. And it was already getting late.
Despite this, Fred had to lean back on the wall, flushed and breathing, clutching his belly as it heaved up and down. By then he had managed to pull on a tight pair of briefs and a white undershirt that his mound was bulging out of. “We’re getting there,” he murmured to the mound, his forehead already beaded with sweat. With one more deep breath, Fred pushed himself off the wall, and finished getting ready for the day.
Fred looked as though he was due with quads.
Unfortunately for him, he was carrying quints.
Fred sat in his office typing away, his large belly perched in his lap, gently heaving. There was the occasional squirm. Besides the tension in his back, it wasn’t too bad. His heart rate was steady, his breathing back to its norm. He could handle this. He could keep working.
One of his colleagues poked his head into the office. “Heya, Fred?”
Fred looked up.
“Two of your clients are here. One’s in the lobby. The other’s waiting in meeting room B.”
Fred blinked. “Right…thanks.” How had he forgotten about his client meetings? Maybe he had been avoiding thinking about them. Fred looked down at the round mound stretching out his shirt and the plump breasts perched above them, wondering how he was going to explain this. He reminded himself that he didn’t have to. This was personal. Their matters were professional. Fred reminded himself not to be embarrassed. He was bringing life into the world, nothing embarrassing about that.
“Ohhhh…” Fred groaned once he had managed to heave himself to his feet. Now the babies were squirming madly. Possibly all five of them. One of Fred’s hands held his tense back as the other clutched his plump mound. He began to walk and hoped they would stop.
He could feel his coworkers staring as he waddled around the office. He would have happily spent his day parked behind his desk. He made it to the meeting room, trying to look composed. He tried to remind himself that this was a blessing, not a burden. It wasn’t a bad thing. He was having babies, even if it wasn’t under the…best of circumstances.
Fred eased himself down into one of the chairs around the rectangular meeting room table, opposite of where his client was staring at him. Fred panted for several moments, trying his best to regain his composure. And then he plastered his face with his most charming smile. “Mr. Jenkins, what can I do for you today?”
One wouldn’t think that an insurance position would be all that strenuous, but the sheer act of moving around the office to find paperwork and attend meetings was severely exhausting for Fred. His female clients looked at him with worry and sympathy. The male ones just gawked. And then there were the piles paperwork he had to contend with. A normal day at work had turned into a mountain of stress.
Fred tried to remember how he had managed the last time he was this large. Probably not much better than this. There was the perk that he had been homeschooled later in his first pregnancy. His parents had mostly taken care of him. And then after that, there was…Derek.
Fred tried to wipe those memories from his mind. He should have been savoring this experience. He was independent, free, and in complete control. This pregnancy was by far going better than his last one had. Fred began to stand, but reddened, and eased himself back down on his plump bottom.
Fred’s evenings were largely spent sprawled on his living room couch. His pregnancy weighed heavily on his sex organs, and he found himself in a near-constant state of arousal.
Often he just tried to breathe through it, his whole body sleek with sweat. He could do little more than watch the minutes on his wall clock tick by until it was time to drag himself to bed so that he could get up for work the next morning. The restrictions of Fred’s condition left him extremely bored. Worse, he was lonely. Sometimes he would try to read a book, or play games of his smartphone, but he was too distracted. By the squirming babies inside him. By his apprehension about their continuing growth. And by thoughts of Derek.
Fred carefully shifted himself until he was lying across the couch, his head on the arm of it against a throw-pillow. He laid his hand upon the face of his mound.
His pelvis was aching. He rubbed his hips. His bottom was getting really large, and round, and wide. His entire physique was getting even more voluptuous than during his last pregnancy.
At present, Fred was wearing another low-cut maternity gown. It was long and formfitting, made of a stretchy semi-transparent material that hugged every curve of his body. It was light enough that he could sleep in it. Despite the low neckline, his breasts still felt very hot and very engorged, his plump cleavage beaded with sweat. His nipples were large, erect, and protruding visibly in the material. His whole body was prepared to give birth. The only things that weren’t ready were the babies.
“Hahhh…hahhh…” Fred breathed as he endured another bout of movement. He rubbed his belly up and down. “Easy…easy…” he coaxed them, but it was no use. His breasts tightened and his nipples burned before they began to seep milk into his gown.
This was nowhere near as bad as last time. He just tried to keep reminding himself of that. He shouldn’t have been feeling so down. He massaged his mound a moment longer, before carefully heaving up his torso and navigating his feet back onto the ground. Placing his hands against the cushions, Fred heaved himself up with a grunt. His bottom rocked gently as he walked forward, his widened hips cradling his mound. But just before Fred could reach his bedroom door, his eyes widened and his face became flushed.
“Nnggghhhhh…” He hugged his belly as he sunk down to his knees, and then to all fours, his belly pressing the ground. He groaned and panted, his belly tight and his bottom trembling.
A few hours later brought Fred to a hospital bed in the ER, white curtains drawn around him. The doctors had given him some sort of injection, though he wasn’t sure what. The tension had subsided, but it seemed at the cusp of returning. Fred anxiously rubbed his hands up and down his mound.
He was wearing just a pair of briefs that half of his ass was bulging out of, and a hospital gown that couldn’t entirely cover his belly. The ER nurses made him shift regularly, for his circulation or something. He even had to spend some time on all fours on his bed, his plump bottom sticking out behind him. Unfortunately for Fred, it was while he was in this position that the doctor decided to walk in.
“All your tests came back clear,” she mentioned. “You’re not in labor, but your body is under a lot of strain. I would recommend bed rest until birth.”
Fred shifted onto his back, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. He looked as though he was attached to a beach ball by then. “Is that it?” he said breathlessly, his voice somewhat annoyed. It was getting late, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get a full six hours of sleep. It was hard enough for him to balance his mound around the office when he wasn’t sleep-deprived. “Can I go now? I have work in the morning.”
The doctor frowned at him. She glanced at his chart. “This is your second visit here related to your pregnancy, isn’t it, Mr. Mathers?”
“I’m going to have to admit you. For observation.”
Fred blinked. “But doctor—”
But she was already walking off. Sinking against his pillows, Fred frowned down at himself. He had five babies on the way. He really couldn’t afford to miss work.
A few hours later Fred found himself in a private room, his belly attached to a variety of monitors. All five were doing well. Their hearts were strong. They were hungry though. His stomach grumbled.
Still, Fred was somewhat apprehensive about the IV line in his arm. He remembered how much weight he’d put on during his last hospital stay, and gulped.
“The babies are plump but mom’s still rather thin,” a nurse noted as she entered the room, two dinner trays stacked in her hands. She lowered the trays to a table and wheeled it over to him.
“Yeah…well…” Fred was caught off guard. “Did the doctor say when I can leave?” he said impatiently.
“If you took things easy, you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” the nurse responded, causing Fred to frown. “Eat your dinner and get some rest.”
Fred waited for the nurse to walk back out of the room before he gobbled down the two bland-tasting meals. When he was finished, he groaned, holding his belly. He needed to take things slower. The mound gurgled. His eyelids grew heavier. Before he knew it, he had drifted off.
Summary: Fred hooks up with the neighborhood sociopath. Contains: Mpreg/belly expansion, male breast expansion, male butt expansion.
The routine continued over the next few days, Fred being forced to stuff himself to capacity during breakfast, lunch, and dinner as Derek observed. And Fred could feel himself growing. He would be constantly overheated, body soaked in sweat. A week had passed since his abduction, and he was officially a whole month overdue with triplets. He could feel the babies squirm fretfully inside him. They were getting bigger and bigger, and Fred didn’t know how much longer this could go on. He could see the difference. The clothes that he had been wearing when Derek had taken him were now skin tight, and barely fitting. By then, his belly resembled an overfilled beach ball.
That day, said beach ball was bouncing against the mattress beneath Fred as Derek rode him from behind.
“How many do you have stuffed in there?” Derek murmured in his ear.
Fred was panting. “Three,” he managed, though Derek already knew this. “Three babies.” Fred’s own erect member jabbed against the underside of his belly, and he hated himself at that moment.
Derek grunted. “And how…far along are you?” he asked breathily.
“A…month…overdue,” Fred grunted back.
Derek came, Fred groaning in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort as his stomach was filled more than it already was. His own dick released, spurting cum against the underside of his belly. And Derek was still at it, Fred’s face reddening and reddening as he was filled more. It felt almost like Derek was trying to get him even more pregnant.
When it was over, both sunk backwards, Fred’s heavy body perching against Derek’s lap as he weakly groaned and the babies squirmed. Derek took to massaging his taut flesh, rubbing his hands up and down it, marveling at the size. After a while, he pulled away, detaching himself from Fred, and leaving the younger boy to hold himself upright.
Fred fell into panting, his body cool from Derek’s absence. But as expected, Derek returned shortly, placing a large glass in Fred’s hand.
Fred looked down at the milkshake. He knew what he had to do. Closing his mouth around the straw, he forced it down as Derek returned to stroking his belly. Derek’s hands rose to play with the bloated mounds on Fred’s chest, causing Fred to shiver.
When Fred finished the shake, he covered a belch. His belly trembled, causing him to grunt in discomfort. He felt Derek harden again.
But rather than indulging, Derek climbed off the bed. “Here.” He tossed something into Fred’s lap.
Fred looked down at the strapless bra he had been given.
“Put it on,” said Derek.
Fred stared at it momentarily, before pulling it on. Derek watched as he struggled into the strapless C-cups. The confinement was unpleasant on Fred’s sore mounds. His breast-flesh bulged over the top of the cups, and just seemed to make Derek more aroused.
“Your body is responding well to the treatment,” said Derek, as he observed.
Fred found the term “well,” to be subjective. It implied something good. “Treatment” was also quite subjective given the circumstances. It implied something consensual and productive was transpiring.
But Fred knew better than to voice these thoughts. He tiredly nodded as he cradled what he could of his belly. The babies had stopped kicking much lately. He worried they were constricted in there. They had put on a lot of weight, and fast. Now they mostly squirmed. He just hoped they weren’t as uncomfortable as he was.
“Get ready for lunch,” said Derek. He walked off.
Fred took a few moments to catch his breath, but he knew he didn’t have long before Derek came back to get him. He pulled on a t-shirt that stretched over his fecund mound, and a pair of sweatpants that were pushed down low on his waist by his belly. With that, Fred waddled out of bedroom, one hand clutching the underside of his belly as the other one held his tense back. If there was any consolation in this, it was that he was never alone. “It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” he muttered quietly to his mass, stopping once he reached the entrance of the dining room. The doorframe seemed to be getting narrower every day. Carefully navigating his belly through, Fred proceeded to the table and eased himself into his chair. Derek was already there, waiting for him.
Fred surveyed the table. The meal was expansive, like all the others. His first course consisted of a mountain of food that made him sweat just looking at it.
“I don’t think I can take much more,” said Fred weakly. He rubbed his mound, he cheeks reddening as it trembled again. “Derek, the babies – they’re getting so big.”
Derek stood from his seat and approached.
“Please Derek, take me to the hospital. It’s time for us to meet them,” said Fred, forcing a smile in feeble hopes of getting through to the other teen.
Derek lifted a large spoon of buttery mashed potatoes and presented it to Fred’s lips.
Fred shook head. “Don’t make me.”
Fred tensed as Derek touched his belly, Derek’s fingers crawling along it.
Fred trembled. “Please.”
Derek’s fingers continued to crawl along him, until they reached his breasts, which they groped and squeezed. As Fred gasped, the heaping spoon was stuffed into his mouth, and he had to swallow just not to choke. Afterward, Fred tried to clamp his lips closed.
“Don’t piss me off, Fred,” said Derek.
“I can’t…I can’t grow anymore.”
But Derek was now handling Fred’s tender breasts rather roughly, squeezing the overly bloated flesh, and leaving Fred grunting in pain. Another spoon and shoved in his mouth. “Stop.” And another. “Mmpphh.” Derek flicked Fred’s nipple, sending pain and pleasure radiating through both breasts, causing Fred to yelp. He was fed several more spoons.
“Just do what you’re told,” said Derek.
Fred helplessly nodded. He weakly accepted the spoon into his own hand, and dutifully placed the next heaping portion into his mouth.
“And try to enjoy the process, won’t you?”
Fred could do little more than nod. He could taste the animal fatteners – the bitter after taste that accompanied each bite. His stomach gurgled.
Derek took to rubbing large circles upon his belly, almost soothingly, but Fred knew better. Derek’s hand slid down to Fred’s considerable erection, causing Fred to redden. Derek began to stroke it, and Fred could do little more than whimper as he tried to continue to eat. Every day, his portions seemed to be steadily increasing. And it was a daily struggle to get it all down.
After an hour of the eating, fondling, and struggling, Fred was finally done. He held his mouth, consumed by nausea.
“You know the consequences of throwing up,” Derek warned.
Fred did. It had happened three days into his captivity there. Derek had forced him to eat an additional meal as punishment, and Fred had been in so much pain, he’d thought he’d burst.
Fred lowered his hand from his mouth, and tried to breathe, tried to think of anything else but being sick. Derek disappeared into the kitchen.
When Derek returned, he had a milkshake in hand. The shakes were always massive. They had to be at least a liter. He placed it in front of Fred.
Allowing himself to hesitate only briefly, Fred closed his lips around the straw.
After it was over, Fred went to his room and tried to relax. He sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard, gently holding the tight, pressurized mass of his stomach. It was so big. It was wider than he was.
Fred looked up as Derek entered the room.
Derek sat beside him on the bed, before reaching over, and pulling up his shirt, if just to appreciate the sight of his massive belly. Derek pulled the shirt higher, and surveyed Fred’s breasts – how they were bulging more heavily than ever from the bra, just short of popping out.
“They’re moving along nicely,” said Derek lecherously. “How big do you think they are by now?”
Fred breathed. “Maybe Ds?” he said weakly. He had to play along. It was the only way to stay safe.
Derek reached round him, and unclasped the bra, leaving Fred’s breasts to perch on his belly. They were so round, and full, too perfect to look natural.
Derek leaned down, and Fred groaned as Derek took to sucking his right nipple. Fred’s back arched, his dick shooting up, his face reddening, and body twisting. Derek sucked and sucked, seconds turning to minutes as he abused Fred’s right breast, before Derek pulled back and took to sucking the left one. When it was over, Derek pulled back to again admire the mounds, and Fred just gasped for breath. Both Fred’s nipples were now swollen and dark, breasts wobbling as his chest heaved. The mounds looked rounder and fuller than ever. “Derek I…oh god, I…” Fred sunk against the headboard, passing out.
Days passed. Derek provided Fred with a variety of large, low cut shirts, from which his cleavage seemed to bulge out of more and more each day. They had gotten so swollen, they had to be Es or something by then, his nipples always hard, and protruding almost painfully. He could feel Derek staring at them a lot. But Fred was more concerned as his belly began to stick out at the bottom of the shirts despite how much he tugged them down.
His belly was positively massive, and heavy. Fred was scared for the triplets. And scared for himself. It was outlandish that he’d even been able to get this far along. Most multiple pregnancies didn’t reach term, but he was over a month overdue.
When not eating, Fred spent a lot of time trying to take it easy, and stay calm. The better things would be for the babies.
Derek walked into his room one day. “You’ve been freeloading here long enough. I need you to clean the kitchen.”
Fred stared at him in shock. “You’re holding me here against my will. I’m nearly five weeks overdue with your babies. And you’ve been pumping them with so much fat, I can barely even carry them anymore.” He grunted as his belly trembled and rubbed it soothingly
“Get up,” said Derek flatly. He tossed him a piece of fabric. “Take off your shirt and put this on.”
Fred knew he had no choice but to listen. It took him a moment to climb into an upright position. He examined the fabric he had been tossed – it was an apron. Fred stared at it for a moment, his face reddening in anger. Just another demented perversion. He pulled off his shirt and pulled the apron on, his breasts bulging against the top and nipples close to visible.
Now just in the apron and basketball shorts he had been wearing, Fred took another few moments to get up to his feet. Panting, he followed Derek into the kitchen, and was stunned by what a mess it had become. The sink was piled with dishes, the floor and counter covered in spills.
“You have got to be kidding,” said Fred.
“Get to work,” Derek ordered.
Fred started with the sink. He could barely reach into it, with his massive belly pressing against it, but he just managed. He loaded the dishwasher with difficulty leaning down then up again, his belly heaving and back straining to support it.
Fred moved on to wiping the counters, the mass of his belly again giving him difficulties. He was breathless by then, and was nowhere near diligent, but didn’t care. His body was trembling, forehead pouring sweat. The babies were tight and squirming within him, and he wasn’t sure he could support them much longer.
Fred did a haphazard mop job, Derek observing him all the while. Fred huffed and puffed, his belly feeling as though it was pulsating. Derek stood by all the while, watching him intently. He even went as far as plucking his dick out of his pants to stroke himself.
When Fred was finished, he shoved the mop into Derek’s chest. He barely made it to the living room, where he collapsed in a chair.
Lance Buchanan loved his job. Hearing women suffer and screech as they pushed out overgrown babies was a delight to him. He didn’t have a fetish for birth or pregnancy, mind you. No, he just liked seeing them in pain and his Job and privileges facilitated that. He couldn’t hear pain like this in any other place in the hospital, patients were too reduced by painkillers or anesthesia to give him those cries. But here, as the head doctor of the maternity ward, he could just tell birthing mothers that they had progressed too far for epidurals or any pain relief. The Nurses would protest his decisions if his father didn’t own the hospital or if his Mother didn’t have a whole firm of lawyers and personal investigators to ruin their lives should they blow the whistle.
Lance sighed, as he walked away from one of the rooms, loud cries of grief emanating from within. This happened from time to time. Breech births and large babies were the most enjoyable to him. Too enjoyable. Once in a while, like today, he would get someone with both and typically…the mother wouldn’t exactly be a mother anymore once he got his fill. This produced issues for him occasionally but nothing a check wouldn’t solve. Nothing wiped up tears like money, and he had a lot of it.
“Wish I enjoyed that one a bit longer, these normal ones don’t cut much anymore,” he mused as he walked out into the waiting room on his way out of the hospital. As he walked through he felt a piercing gaze burn through the side of his head. He turned to see a young woman glaring at him, her visitors pass indicating she was with the woman he just left.
“How unfortunate…,” he thought. Not about the loss, but about the money he was about to lose. He recognized that look.
He ignored her and kept his stride and continued to the private parking garage, it was getting late and he needed some rest before any more expectant mothers came up.
On his trip to the garage he felt like someone was following him. Probably just a nosy investigative reporter he would have to shoo off later. He put his key into the door and suddenly his vision started to fade.
“What the…,” lance staggered and collapsed onto the cold ground.
When youre on maternity leave, but all of your adoptive children are insubordinate assholes(except Haru, she’s a good kid)
(also I’m sorry about the speech bubble on the first page, but I already didnt have time to make this, so its not getting fixed ;_;)
You awoke before the king the next morning, examining him closely as he slept beside you. The paunch of his stomach was more distended than you’d left him that night, confirming your suspicions: he was pregnant, already swelling with child.
Syvian stirred as he woke, blinking the sleep from his eyes. As he began to sit up, he took notice of the weight on his midsection. He sighed, masking embarrassment.
“That was certainly… quite a night. I’m surprised you could keep up with the drive that dastardly faerie potion cursed me with,” he said, laying a hand on his stomach.
You began to feel nervous. Didn’t he know? You’d told him that the potion made him fertile. Perhaps he hadn’t understood.
“Actually, Syv,” you said, “your stomach’s gotten bigger since you fell asleep.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
You could see the realization setting in, so you jumped to explain.
“Now don’t worry – magical pregnancy is a bit different. It’ll only last a week. And the birth will be erotic,” you added. You watched him take in the news; he was looking down at his protruding belly, seeming to hang onto your every word. You continued. “You should be pregnant with as many as times I… erm… finished into you.”
He looked up sternly. “And how many times was that?”
You couldn’t remember. “At least five.”
Another sigh from Syvian. At least he wasn’t yelling at you.
“You could always, you know, get rid of them,” you suggested meekly, “I’m sure there’s a counterspell.”
Syvian flushed, averting your gaze. “N-no,” he said, “I want to have them.”
Now that surprised you.