After all this time you were finally going to meet. Many messages sent back and forth about your shared fetish. In that hotel room, it was understood that it was just a fantasy… the birth control would see to that. You picked out some special lingerie that accentuated your ample breasts. Two full days, enacting the fantasies of being bred. Filled repeatedly, morning and night. Leaving exhausted and satisfied, knowing it was just a shared fantasy.
A few weeks later, your breasts are heavy and sore and your dress feels tight around the middle… oh no…
More time passes and you plan to meet again. You give him the code to the hotel room door to meet you. Another weekend planned of fulfilling fantasies. He opens the door and sees you for the first time.
It hadn’t worked. Maybe you missed a dose or something but somehow the birth control had failed. You sat reclined on the bed, propped up with pillows, wearing, as best you could, the same lingerie.
But this time your breasts, now huge vein-marked melon-like teats, are barely covered by the skimpy fabric.
Your legs are splayed to the sides and your belly, now riddled with stretch-marks, rests heavily between them on the mattress. Not only did the birth control fail, but you managed to have three eggs fertilized. Triplets when you wanted to have none. Your hand resting on the massive rise of your belly, feeling them kick and squirm inside, the other hand rubbing the tight, stretched skin for relief.
He sees you, panting and softly moaning under the weight of his brood, wetness visible around your thick nipples, and can smell your dripping, swollen pussy. He made you a breeding cow after one weekend and now all of his fantasies are being fulfilled.
