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Delayed Pt. 6
🕑 Added 2024-01-26 21:02:09 +0000 UTCJust when labor finally gets underway, Peter has some visitors...
Delayed Revisited
Part Six
The time finally came for Peter to stop taking the labor-inhibiting drugs. Even before he missed his first dose, he worried he’d suddenly go into labor, his body obviously so overtaxed, but he didn’t. Despite how big and bloated it’d become, it still took the requisite two weeks for the drug to leave its body, said weeks passing at a snail’s pace, which was just slightly quicker than the twenty-eight year old was now able to move.
During this painfully slow time, big as he and they already were, Peter and the triplets all continued to grow. As a result, he became more and more withdrawn as he tried his best to manage his ever–increasing discomfort. Attempting to do so took up much of his time and attention, but not all… There were still other things he needed to do, like continuing to produce content for his viewers, all of whom remained eager as ever to see him bigger than ever. Bigger and more pregnant than any of them had ever seen anyone get…
Wendy was an absolute godsend. She was great with the kids (all of whom loved her) and worth every penny Peter was paying her. When they first met in person following a phone interview, Peter genuinely worried the young nanny would turn and run… Wendy looked terrified when he answered the door dripping with sweat, red in the face, blatantly straining and gasping for breath. Had Wendy run, he wouldn’t have blamed her but thankfully, she stayed.
Peter hoped he wouldn't get any bigger, but of course he and the triplets all did. As his extended pregnancy finally neared its delayed end, he and the babies, who'd already spent an extra month in his over-packed womb, continued to grow and (over) develop, fulfilling the expectation of babies doing their most growing during the final trimester (and in Peter's case,beyond.)
His belly was so huge and bloated, it now far out spanned his reach and his hands, which were constantly roaming it, looked comically small in comparison. Whenever Peter sat, (which he did more and more of,) he increasingly felt like his pregnancy was going to crush him. Though it was mostly fruitless and now nearly impossible to, he found himself continually squirming, trying to spread and move his legs wider to keep them from going numb, but he rarely succeeded.
Even when the rest of him wasn't in motion, his belly had come to exhibit almost constant lurching movements. It seemed like even the babies were wondering why they'd yet to be born, and the only way they could express their confusion was by (very needlessly) physically reminding their overburdened “mother” of their continued presence.
Speaking of presence, Brad continued to keep his to a minimum. Things between him and Peter were icy at best, though since it remained possible they'd still be connected to some legal degree for at least the next eighteen years if the triplets ended up being his, he “helped out” as much as he could, without being physically present… He did so in the form of having copious amounts of prepared foods delivered to Peter and the children from his store, all of which was rapidly consumed, the vast majority by the overdue, twenty-eight year old content creator himself.
Even though he'd grown to be beyond enormous and truly felt like he was about to burst any second, Peter simply couldn't stop eating… Unfortunately, most of the food his (ex?) boyfriend/maybe baby-daddy, Brad sent over from his store, weren't necessarily the healthiest options, but no matter how much of it he ate, or how many calories the food contained, more often than not, Peter felt like he was on the verge of exploding, yet simultaneously starving to death.
Keeping himself pregnant, keeping himself and the triplets growing, and producing (more than) enough milk for them and his five other children, required a massive amount of energy. Whenever he wasn't napping, tending to the children he'd already birthed as best as he still could (which wasn't very well at all,) or live streaming, Peter was stuffing his face, further exacerbating his condition, quite literally adding (pounds) to his still growing “dilemma,” therefore making its ultimate conclusion: him finally, supposedly/hopefully naturally giving birth to the triplets at home; all the more challenging and frightening of a prospect.
While Brad had been moved all but out of the picture, Richard had come back into it as much as his overdue ex permitted. Now that court and custody were no longer concerns, to say nothing of the fact they'd “reconnected,” he and Peter's “relationship” had become much more amiable. That being said, the former husbands hadn't hooked up again despite the older repeatedly mentioning that he'd be (more than) willing to, on or off camera.
The offers were tempting. More than once, Peter almost took Richard up on it but he couldn't. Hot and appealing as the thought of having more, sure to be (despite and because of everything) incredible sex with his ex was, Peter honestly worried that if he got fucked again, it would send him over the edge as well as the three, big babies he'd carried for far too long (and yet still, not quite long enough) shooting right out of him. So despite desperately wanting, needing and to a degree deserving some release and relief, he politely declined.
The more enormous Peter continued to get, the more things continued to become an issue, including but not limited to retaining some semblance of mobility… When he hit five weeks overdue, whenever he was on his now disturbingly swollen feet, he felt almost dangerously unbalanced. Any time he slowly waddled around the house, he had to brace himself against walls or pieces of furniture just to feel confident enough moving forward. Witnessing this on more than one occasion, his ex-husband purchased him an extra-large (aka, wide) walker, as well as a reinforced cane for some much needed, additional support.
Even if he was just sitting or laying down, a huge strain stayed on Peter's hips, back and backside… Every day, his belly and the triplets still inside it, felt a little lower and heavier, everything pressing a little harder against his aching pelvis and still increasingly plump ass. Every day, it got a little bit harder to resist the growing urge to start pushing despite the fact he'd still somehow yet to go into labor.
With the end of his pregnancy now within reach, even though most of it itself no longer was, it was more important than ever for Peter to complete his end of the deal. Failure wasn't an option now.
Another growing challenge Peter continued to face was finding things to wear that kept him at least somewhat decent around Wendy and the kids. Once again, Richard came to the rescue. Well, sort of… Peter's attorney ex found a site online that sold basic articles of clothing in huge sizes and unusual dimensions, from which he ordered an assortment of things as his younger, former husband continued to grow and expand beyond even his wildest dreams.
Huge, stretchy and supposedly “accommodating” as the t-shirts Richard ordered were, they were still inadequate, leaving a generous portion of Peter's belly bursting out from under the taut, too short hemline. Up at the neckline, things weren't much better but at least their children didn't have to see their “Mama” in all his overly fecund glory…
The necklines of the biggest shirts Peter had ever owned let alone seen, be they crew or v-neck, were quickly stretched beyond capacity by his hugely engorged breasts. No matter how much Peter pumped, leaked or fed his children from them, his breasts continued to bloat up to the point each was nearly the size of a volleyball. Because his enlarged nipples were being put to so much use, they’d become painfully sensitive, making even his largest bras (none of which were large enough anymore) too uncomfortable to wear for long. As a result, more often than not, Peter went braless, his (more than) prominent nipples poking against his tent-sized (and shaped) shirts, usually surrounded by correspondingly sized wet spots.
*****
Only by the grace of God and his sheer will and determination did Peter finally reach the last full day of his extended pregnancy. Finally, the following afternoon, he was to receive the rest of his much-earned payment, Mike would return to assist and finally, Peter would be able to give birth. He was as relieved as he was miserable, scared and worried.
While the final countdown was on, Peter wasn’t sure if or how he was going to make it through the relatively few remaining hours? He did everything he could to contain his overgrown babies, sobs, moans and groans as his titanic belly almost continually shuddered, at times looking like it was swelling outward with visible pulsations. Peter truly looked and felt like he was about to burst.
If he managed to make it through the following morning, he would officially be a month and a half overdue with now very large triplets. Each and every second that slowly passed, Peter felt each and every inch and ounce of the babies’s weight and pressure within his now outrageously swollen body. Sometime over the course of the last day, the triplets’ movements had become lethargic and more twitchy, like there was just no more room for them to grow or move around, thank fucking God!
On the subject of movement, though he hadn’t moved (aside from small, almost imperceptible and utterly useless adjustments) in more than an hour, the overdue content creator’s face was still bright red and deeply pained, his skin positively dripping with perspiration as he sat there panting, pinned to the couch. His pregnancy looked and felt like an enormous boulder pressing down and back against him, almost as big as the rest of him (which boobs and ass aside, now almost seemed like an afterthought.)
“Peter?” Came a quiet call. “Are you… OK?” Wendy asked as she entered the living room, once again looking at him in alarm like she did whenever she saw him now.
It took him several moments to respond as he felt a bit delirious. “I’m f-fine…” he eventually, very quietly got out, not even bothering to try and smile since he was all but certain he couldn’t get his lips to contort in that direction at the moment.
“Right…” the nanny replied, sounding less than convinced. “Well, everyone’s down for the night and hopefully, the count… Can I help you to bed?” She offered.
Peter closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “I’ll manage,” he replied in almost a whisper, also sounding less than convinced. “Have a… good night, Wendy.”
The helpful nanny offered him a small, concerned smile and nod before walking off. Eyes still closed, hands where else but roaming what they could still reach of his belly, Peter heard her gathering her things, but he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes, let alone turn his head to watch her leave. He heard the front door open quietly.
“Night!” Wendy quietly called before closing and locking the door behind her.
“Night…” Peter replied even quieter, even if there wasn’t a point.
He didn’t envy what he had to do next. He worried if he’d even be able to?
It took over an hour before he was ready to try and get himself up so he could go to bed. By then, Peter's entire lower half was aching, almost throbbing… His ass felt impossibly heavy and pressurized and for the umpteenth time that day, he had to resist the urge to start pushing.
It'd been hours since he'd last stood, the walker and cane both where he'd last left them within reach of the couch. This time, when Peter was ready to get up, he reached for the walker. He really should've taken Wendy up on her offer to help, but he hadn't wanted her to see him struggle any more than she already had. That and he just wanted to be left alone, “alone” being a relative term seeing as he was now nearly made up of more baby than himself…
“Oh, God…” he groaned quietly as he gripped the walker, pulling with his arms and hands while forcing as much strength as he could down to his numb, already aching and shaking legs.
Peter's first attempt to get vertical was unsuccessful. So was his second. When he finally succeeded on his third, he was gasping for breath again then grunting in surprise as his belly bumped against the arms of the walker, which he hadn't attempted to use yet that day.
In the time since he'd last put it to use, Peter's pregnancy had grown wider than the device, rendering it useless. For now, anyway… It would probably come in handy again once he'd had the triplets, at which time his body would surely still be in a sorry, if not thankfully, less stuffed state.
After turning slightly to the left, his right hand braced on the walker, Peter cautiously reached out with his left for the cane's handle. Richard had repeatedly assured him the cane was strong enough, yet he still didn't fully trust it… As such, Peter very slowly and cautiously let go of the walker. As he transitioned as much as he dared of his weight to the cane, he moved his now free right hand so it was cupping/supporting what it could of the underside of his massive pregnancy, the dwarfed appendage unsurprisingly doing little to help.
Peter had to get to his bed… The good news was that he didn't have far to go now. The bad news was that he still seriously wondered if he was going to make it?
Two days prior, the inexpensive, king-size mattress set and reinforced bed frame he'd ordered online had been delivered by two extremely shocked and bewildered delivery men, both of whom had gawked at Peter as they first removed all the furniture from his office (for an additional fee) and then setup the bed he was likely going to ruin in the process of giving birth (three times) on in its place.
Now, unless one of his external children needed something in the middle of the night (which thankfully, so far none of them had,) he didn't have to deal with the stairs. Now, all Peter had to do was get his overdue self to his makeshift bed/soon-to-be birth room, just down the hall from the living room, which was still easier said than done…
Ever so slowly, he tottered forward.
He'd barely progressed a foot yet his heavy, volleyball-sized tits were already wobbling and bubbling almost out of control as he already started to gasp for breath, truly struggling to keep his cramped lungs full enough. Seemingly every other part of his body was so fucking full, there was hardly any room left for air in it! Getting there took a couple minutes, but as he finally, feebly tottered into the office, the now slightly lightheaded Peter noticed how close the bulging sides of his belly were to grazing against the door frame, further and needlessly highlighting just how truly enormous he'd become.
Before they left, Peter tipped the delivery guys an additional twenty bucks each to bring a dresser he'd been storing in the garage into the office, as well as the three bassinets from his actual room. The dresser now contained the new clothes Richard had gotten him (which weren't quite big enough) as well as the triplets’ first couple of outfits. Peter would use the downstairs changing table, located off to the side in the living room till he was able to handle the stairs again.
The outfit the overdue content creator currently had on was soaked with both sweat and milk, yet he didn't bother changing out of it. He didn't have the energy to. Hell, he barely had the energy to make it the rest of the way to his cheap, temporary bed through the maze of furniture. Between the bed, the dresser and the bassinets, it was a very tight fit.
The moment his fat and heavy ass made contact with its rather flimsy, unsupportive side, Peter heard a loud rip of fabric even over the loud groan the supposedly reinforced metal bed frame gave as it struggled to take his weight. His far too tight sweatpants, stretched and shoved low by the recent additional expansion of his hips and ass, had finally bit the dust, splitting right up the back seam. Once again, the twenty-eight year old didn't have the energy to care.
As Peter struggled to awkwardly work the ruined pants off, with nowhere else to go after already overwhelming his lap, his massive pregnancy pushed his enormous breasts up and around his chin, the pressure forcing a deluge of milk from each of his distended nipples. Once the sweatpants were off, Peter slowly and cautiously leaned back, hoping he'd be able to make an at least somewhat easy and graceful transition onto his side but as was to be expected, he failed…
Instead of the transition he'd been hoping for, he promptly ended up flat on his aching back, what little air he had in them being knocked right out of his constricted lungs as all that weight landed atop him, pinning him down. Peter gasped and struggled for the next several seconds before finally managing to build up enough momentum to roll onto his bloated and bulbous left side.
As he gasped, shuddered and trembled, he couldn't believe he'd used to like being pregnant… It went without saying, because of greed, he'd taken things to a level well beyond his capacity for any semblance of enjoyment… But what Peter was going to enjoy was being several millions of dollars richer. That would make all the struggles he'd faced over the last several weeks oh so worth it.
Tomorrow… Peter reminded himself again, grimacing at the lurching movements emanating from his massive middle.
One way or another, hopefully via the successful, natural births of the triplets on camera, his presumably final pregnancy would come to an end and Peter and his family would be set for life. He just had to hang on a little longer, even if that meant spending another night groaning and squirming through all the pressure, shudders and movement, decidedly not getting much sleep at all.
*****
Peter dozed repeatedly but never truly managed to fall asleep. Just when he'd reach the edge of deep slumber, he'd wake gasping or whining out, clutching his pregnancy as it heaved and throbbed far out in front of him on the bed. At times, it trembled, his strained, overburdened muscles finally starting to clench and contract, even though he wasn't in labor.
By the time he finally willed himself out of bed, Peter was already exhausted. He genuinely wondered how he was going to make it through the grueling day that lay ahead of him, fervently hoping he'd have enough adrenaline to get him through when the time came.
He'd just gotten himself dressed and into the kitchen when Richard arrived to pick up the kids. When Peter's ex entered the kitchen and saw him sitting there all hot and panting and well beyond hugely pregnant at the table, even the usually composed attorney looked (more than) a bit shocked at the sight before him.
“So today's the day, huh?” Richard asked as he approached and cautiously set his right hand atop Peter's lightly heaving belly, right in front of his dripping breasts.
His hand barely applied pressure but Peter still groaned in discomfort as he slowly nodded, barely looking up. “Today's finally… the day.”
Richard wanted to explore Peter’s most magnificent pregnancy one more time but also didn’t want to cause him any additional discomfort so reluctantly, he took his hand back. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do with it, then it somewhat naturally found its way to the flushed side of his beyond flustered ex’s still handsome face and cupped it.
“Are you sure this is how you want to do things?” He asked.
Peter grunted as he shook his head. “No, but it’s how I have to. Giving birth naturally is part of the deal.”
“Well, do you want me to stay and help or just be here for you?” Richard offered as he raised Peter’s face a little higher, forcing him to look at him. “I can send Wendy and the kids over to my place, and then I could…”
Peter shook his head again. “Having you here would be a… distraction.” A much needed one, he said to himself before continuing. “But also, I don’t want you seeing me give…”
“Birth?” Richard cut him off with a little chuckle. “I’ve already seen you do that five times, Pete!”
“Yeah, well this time’s gonna be a little different!” The younger man huffed and rolled his eyes.
“You don't say!” Richard rolled his eyes as well. “But fine… Do you need anything from me before I go get the kids ready?”
Peter needed everything. He desperately wanted Richard to stay and be there with him over the course of what was sure to be a painful and difficult labor and delivery experience, but he didn't dare admit it. He'd gotten himself into this mess so he needed to get himself out of it. As such, Peter silently shook his head as he gently pulled it from Richard's reassuring hold.
“There is one thing…” he suddenly remembered.
Richard raised his brows and nodded. “Anything.”
“A police officer came by and dropped off something yesterday,” Peter said. “A summons, maybe?” He shrugged, causing his bloated breasts to wobble. “Something about missing our last court date.”
“I got one too,” Richard replied. “I had Toni contact the court and get things straightened out.”
“So I don't need to be worried?” Peter asked with a relieved sigh. “With all that's going on, I haven't had time to reach out to Randall .”
His ex shook his head. “Everything's fine. I'm sure it was just an accidental oversight on the court's part. I have a certified signed copy of the order the judge granted dismissing the case after I told her you and I came to an agreement.”
“So nothing to worry about, right?” Peter asked again, just to be sure. “‘'Cause the last thing I need now is to be in any more trouble…” he rolled his eyes.
“Nothing to worry about in that regard,” Richard replied with a shake of his head. “You just focus on what you have to do now…” he suggested with a smile. “I'll bring everyone to say goodbye once we're ready to go,” he said before heading upstairs.
Peter didn't reply other than to let out another small sigh. He was very glad to have confirmation that the court summons was just a mistake on their part. He'd figured it was but it was good to know for sure as he had plenty else still to worry about…
By the end of the day, the hardest part will be over, he told himself again. Then, we'll figure out who fathered the triplets, Brad or Richard, and we'll go from there. Almost done…
Surprisingly, his latest silent pep talk helped. That and the keen awareness that he was going to be very wealthy very soon. Once he gave birth three more times, to three, very large babies, Peter would never have to again if he didn't want to.
As promised, once everyone was ready, Richard brought them to the kitchen to say goodbye to their Mommy. Peter smiled down at his children as they all struggled to embrace what they could of his bloated body. He leaned over and around them and his belly and breasts to plant tender kisses atop each of their heads.
“The next time I see you, the babies will be in my arms instead of in my belly!” He told them with a smile as he fought the urge to start pushing again.
Their goodbyes said, Richard ushered everyone out. Before he closed the front door behind him, he turned to look back at the incredibly pregnant Peter one more time. In person, that is… Richard hadn't told his ex, but he'd already arranged for Wendy to come to his house to watch the kids so he could watch Peter's biggest (and hopefully, last) livestream.
“Call me if you need anything, or you change your mind and want me to come be with you, OK, Pete?”
Peter wished he hadn't said that. It would make not doing so all the more difficult. He gave a small smile and nod before letting his gaze drop back down to his enormous belly.
*****
Once again, Peter was starving. He knew if ever he needed to, it was then so he'd have enough energy to give birth three times in a row, but despite how good the latest food Brad had sent over tasted, he found himself only able to take a few bites, and not just because of his nerves…
Even though his stomach was running on empty for the first time in recent memory, he still felt truly stuffed. He also felt like he was straining more than ever to continue to contain the triplets. Peter wasn't necessarily mentally prepared to give birth (he probably never would be,) but physically, he (more than) obviously was.
With eating not an option for the first time in a long time, he eventually headed for the living room. “Relaxing” in bed proved tempting, but Peter knew he was going to spend most of the day in it (doing anything BUT “relaxing,” ) so sprawling out on the couch seemed a better choice for now.
As he lay there, waiting for the time to pass till he had to start getting ready for the painful and tiresome task(s) ahead, Peter once again marveled at how big he'd gotten… He had no idea how he was going to give birth to babies the size he'd grown the triplets to be without an epidural? He belatedly questioned whether ten million dollars was even worth it? Of course, it was. It had to be now…
While holding, palming, rubbing and clutching what he could of his swell, Peter's pert yet puffy nipples leaked relentlessly. His poorly fitting light gray t-shirt quickly became several shades darker, and the wet patches rapidly grew till more than half the shirt was soaked. The overdue/over it all, twenty-eight year old knew he was making a mess of himself and more than likely, his couch, but it couldn't be helped and nor did he even care. With several million soon-to-be deposited into his bank account, he'd be able to buy as many new couches as he wanted/needed.
An hour and a half before Mike was due to arrive, with a great deal of effort, Peter heaved himself off the couch and then lumbered slower and heavier than ever towards the stairs he'd thankfully been able to avoid for the last couple of days, but not anymore… There were two reasons he now had to make the slow and painful trek: one, he hadn't taken a shower since his last time upstairs, relegated to giving himself “baths” with baby wipes; and two: because the “special outfit” he was going to wear while finally giving birth had been left up in the bedroom.
Taking a shower felt nice. Even though he was all hot and sweaty, Peter set the water to warm. Not that he could've rushed had he wanted to, but he took his time, enjoying the feeling of the warm, almost hot water, raining down on his taut, sensitive skin, the patter of the drops causing his fat nipples to leak a little more, clouding the water that ran down his fecund form to the drain.
Halfway through the shower, once he'd gotten himself all richly lathered up, Peter reached out, grabbed his phone from the top of the toilet and started a livestream. Mike was going to be there within the hour, so the time had come to let his faithful viewers know that today was in fact the big day…
“Hey, everyone!” He greeted rather breathlessly, offering his viewers a tight smile as he held his phone high overhead, giving them as good a view of as much of whine and soapy, bloated body as he could.
“PreggoPetey, here… Just wanted to get on real quick and… let you know that I'm pretty sure… today's finally the day!” He smiled as he stroked the top of his belly with his other hand before moving it up and over to his engorged left breast and giving it a gentle, seductive shake. “Thought I'd do so while… taking a shower. My last while pregnant. This time, anyway…” he winked.
“Took me long enough, but I… finally started having contractions,” he lied, as he'd still yet to experience even a single one and probably wouldn't till Mike induced him. “So submit those payments and stay tuned!” He smiled and winked. “Me and the babies'll… see you soon!” He signed off.
While the livestream had been his shortest ever, lasting less than a minute, the response was instantaneous. Phone still in hand, Peter watched as the message board came to life, his rabid, not so patient viewers, filling it with comments that once again, ran the gamut…
FUCKIN’ FINALLY!!!
NO!!! STAY PREGNANT FOREVER!!!
Damn, mama! You're HUGE!!! Can't fit even half of yourself in frame anymore! How're those GIANT babies gonna fit outta you?!
STFU! He can do it! He had that big cock help stretch him out! :-p And don't forget, he's done this before!
Are you sure this is still safe..? As much as I wanna see you TRY and give birth, you should probably go to the hospital and have a c-section!
I'm bricked up already! Payment submitted!
No way in hell that lil nighty's gonna fit now! I still wanna see you in it though! :-p
Leaving work “sick” right now! Good luck! Something tells me you're gonna need it!
OMG, I picked today!!! Someone tell me, did I win the pool?! Woohoo!!! Thanks, Peter!!!I
Peter sighed and shook his head as he carefully leaned back out of the shower and set his phone back down on top of the toilet's tank. Messages continued to flood the board, but he'd read enough for now… Those he'd seen left him feeling an odd combination of excited, reassured, scared and nervous. Some people still believed he could do what he'd set out to do while others did not. The most important thing though was that he still believed in himself.
‘Cause he still did, right..? Um…
“Yes!” He assured his subconscious aloud as he stepped back under the water and let the copious amount of body wash he'd lathered himself with to rinse off. “I do… I can do this!” He promised himself with a resolute nod as he aided in the rinsing process with his hands, once again marveling at just how huge he'd grown.
*****
The camisole didn't fit. It didn't come close to, not that it had the last time he'd worn it a month ago, but anyway… Now, it bunched up right under his breasts, his enormous, well-lotioned (to the point he'd used the remainder of his stash,) shiny pregnancy exploded out from under it.
The silk cami now looked more like a very ill-fitting bra, and the jockstrap Peter also hadn't tried on in over a month was notably tighter as well, but after quite the struggle, he managed to cram himself into it as well. Once again, Peter didn't think he looked remotely sexy or attractive, but was sure his viewers were going to love his getup when they saw it again as now, it was almost obscene…
All bright red and sweaty again, the finally, soon-to-be laboring content creator had just made it back to the main floor of his home when the doorbell rang. Mike, the sexy midhusband, from Daddies’ ‘R Us had arrived.
“Jesus!” Mike said once the gasping and panting Peter opened the door for him, nearly a minute after he rang the bell. “You told me you were a little bigger, Peter!” He huffed. “But…”
“Well it's been a… month, Mike!” Peter huffed back. “And I'm now six weeks overdue… with triplets!” He rolled his eyes. “Did you… really think I was only gonna be… a little… bigger?!”
“Well, no!” The obviously shocked and surprised midhusband admitted. “But I… I just…”
“Oh, come… on,” Peter said as he made a very slow and wide turn and then started lumbering towards the office,giving Mike a perfect few of his fatter ass and wider hips. “Close the… door behind… you,” he huffed as he waddled along like a goose that'd been immensely fattened up to be used for foie gras.
The studly midhusband shook his head in concern and disbelief as he closed the door behind him. Mike didn't lock it, just in case he and Peter weren't able to handle things on their own and he needed to call 9-1-1 for backup.
“Let's get… started,” Peter huffed and puffed as he grabbed his remote for the camera he'd set up to film him. He'd press the button to start the livestream after Mike had induced him.
“How ‘bout we get you situated and as comfortable as possible first?” Mike suggested as he set his bag down and came over to help Peter onto the bed.
“Please…” the overdue twenty-eight year old nodded and groaned.
It took their combined strength and effort to get Peter situated in the middle of the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows. His mountain of a belly towered out in front of him, shelving his tightly confined, still leaking breasts, the camisole already rendered nearly transparent. Once his upper body was in place, Mike helped Peter raise and spread his legs and position them so his feet were pressed against the mattress, his thickened thighs spread almost painfully wide to the sides of his enormous, incredibly still very round, triplet-filled pregnancy.
“You're sure you still want to do things this way?” Mike asked as he headed back to his bag to grab the herbal tonic.
“Don't… ask me… again,” Peter groaned as he tried but failed to adjust himself. “Let's just… get this… over with,” he said as he held out his hand to take the bottle once Mike had twisted the cap off. “Bottom's up…” he said again as he brought it to his lips and started to chug.
As soon as the viscous liquid touched his tongue, Peter winced at the bitter, herbal taste. He turned slightly to look at the midhusband, who nodded, indicating that yes, he had to drink the entire bottle.
“Ugh…” Peter groaned again once he handed the empty bottle back. “That was…” he paused to release a small belch. “Nasty!”
“So I've been told.”
“It better…” he paused to burp again. “Work! Are you…”
Before Peter was able to finish asking his question, he groaned again as he felt the first stirrings of his delayed labor deep in his overburdened, over-packed and over-filled core. He gasped as his belly suddenly tightly squeezed around the triplets, shoving them downward, if only for the duration of the first, brief spasm.
It was finally happening! He was really in labor! Peter had been pregnant for so long by that point, he almost couldn't believe it?!
“First contraction already,” Mike noted. “That's good,” he said as he took his phone from his pocket to check the time.
Peter had his phone in hand too, though he had no intention of using it to call for additional assistance. He had his banking app open and was constantly refreshing it as he huffed and puffed through the contraction, waiting for the nine million dollars to hit his account. A deal was a deal, after all.
He was surprised by how strong his first contraction was. Previously, it'd taken some time for them to reach this level of intensity but never before had Peter been so pregnant and overdue… With a little help from the tonic, his body had finally become just as anxious as he mentally was to start getting the triplets out.
“Woo…” he sighed in relief as his belly's clenching tapered off. “Seems like we're starting out with a bang!” He rolled his eyes.
“That's good,” Mike said again. “We need the contractions to be long and strong to help you get babies that size out.”
“How big do you think they are?” Peter asked with a frown as he looked down at his bare belly.
The midhusband shook his head as he shrugged his big, broad shoulders. “Best guess…” he said as he eyed the content creator's massive middle. “Thirteen to fourteen pounds each?”
“Jesus…” Peter groaned.
The realization he was carrying approximately 40 lbs of baby belated hit him. The biggest baby he'd given birth to prior had weighed in at just over 12 lbs, and that had been a literal stretch. The twins had weighed 10 lbs apiece but had obviously been more challenging to deliver since there were two of them.
Ten million dollars, he reminded himself again. That and he'd never have to get pregnant again if he didn't want to. He didn't think he did…
Peter was about to start streaming when his second contraction hit, less than five minutes since his first. Once again, it was stronger than he anticipated and came sooner than expecting, surprising even Mike.
“Maybe this won't take as long as we thought?” The midhusband said, offering the huffing, puffing and sweating twenty-eight year old a smile.
“Hopefully…” Peter replied through teeth clenched as tight as his belly.
When the contraction ended, after wiping his face down so he wouldn't start the stream all sweaty, Peter went live even though he'd yet to receive his payment. Maybe TryAndMakeYouBlow was waiting to send it till he started? Only one way to find out…
“Finally…” Peter smiled into the camera as he rubbed his big, shiny belly as seductively as possible. “What we've all been waiting for!” He winked. “My contractions are five minutes apart and already nice and strong,” he nodded. “Mike, from Daddies’ ‘R Us is here, ready to help me out. Come say hi, Mike,” he beckoned, taking his left hand from his belly.
“Hey, everyone,” Mike greeted with a wave. “Hope you all enjoy the show!”
“Oh, they will,” Peter nodded as he reached out, took Mike's closest hand and placed it on his belly. “While we wait for the next contraction and more people to logon, why don't you feel around and check the babies’ positioning?” He suggested.
“Can do,” Mike nodded again as he placed his other hand on Peter's belly too. It didn't take long for him to find a baby. “Here we go,” he said as his left hand cupped the head, which was aimed down, and his right cupped the baby's butt, which was nestled right under Peter's left breast. “We'll call this one Baby B… It's head down which is great,” he nodded as he applied some gentle pressure, causing “Mommy” to grunt. “Given its position, it'll either be the second or third to be born. Now, let's see if I can't find and feel Baby A, we'll be the first one out, he said as he moved to his left so he was lower down Peter's pregnancy. “Now…”
All of a sudden, a loud series of knocks was heard. A very loud series. Mike and Peter looked at each other.
“Want me to go see who it is?” The midhusband asked.
Peter nodded. “I would, but…” he trailed off as he gestured down and around his nearly naked, bloated and bulbous upper body.
“Right. Be right back,” Mike said as he headed off.
For a moment, Peter forgot about the livestream and frowned. Now wasn't the time for interference or interruption. He rolled his eyes, imagining it was one of the men in his life, Richard or Brad, there to stake their claim with their presence. The thought was draining.
The reality was far worse…
Mike came back into the office looking confused and concerned. Before Peter could ask what was wrong or who was at the door, he got his answer as two police officers marched in and stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they saw him.
After several moments of awkward silence, during which time the officers’ eyes bulged as they stared at Peter, the bigger and burlier one stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Peter Pryce, you are under arrest for contempt of court and child endangerment.”
