Idk what it is about bellies that are like this I want to be this pregnant so bad. I know she can’t sit in seats that don’t let her spread her legs wide open because her belly demands space. It seems like she has to lean back a bit even when she sits because it just takes up so much room. Her belly pulls at her and she is constantly giving the side of her tummy a little rub. She struggles to take in deep breaths as she gets bigger and rubs her belly whenever she tries to. Everytime there’s an attempt to get up, move over or otherwise shift the extra weight there’s always a lil “ooof” or “ahh” that accompanies it. Just constantly little sounds that come out when you’re trying to move such a big belly.
Augh bellies that just look heavy are so 🥵🥵🥵
This has really taken over her life. She can’t drive because she’s too far, she feels awkwardly far away from tables when she sits to eat. She feels awkwardly far away from counters. She can’t fit in small places that she used to. Her hips have widened and it’s caused her to seriously waddle. She can’t move one leg in front of the other. This belly is too big heavy and low for that. Getting up from this she needs someone to pull her up on the count of three after rocking back and forth a couple times to build up momentum, and she’s gonna do a little gasp when she finally get get up and say “oh god” and then rub and adjust her belly as much as she can so it carries a lil less awkwardly.
You and your husband tried to get pregnant for a while. Things weren't going fast enough for your liking, so perhaps you bought some fertility drugs you found online. Even when you got your positive pregnancy test, you and your partner had no idea what you were in for.
Imagine your tummy swelling at an alarming rate. You can barely keep anything down in the first trimester. Every time you move makes you dizzy, every day your belly grows and stretches a bit bigger than before. Imagine your doctor confirming, shocked, that you're carrying….four? No…six embryos. All growing into six healthy babies inside you.
Imagine needing to rest between even minor tasks as your body balloons before your very eyes. Your belly stretching to its limit, your joints aching and swollen. You take a lot of naps, trying to conserve what energy you can as you grow your brood. Your breasts, once a modest size, now seem to make every top or dress look ridiculous with their sheer volume. Your partner can’t keep his hands off you, though you can barely muster the energy to do anything but bend over and lean on something soft while he takes you from behind. Your enormous belly hangs low, causing your back to ache, but you’re too overwhelmed with lustful pregnancy hormones to mind too much. You just need your partner inside you as long and as often as possible.
By your third trimester you're so big and heavy you can barely move. You often need your husband to help you get up and let you lean on him to get around the house. He becomes more and more hesitant to leave you alone each day as your due date looms nearer, but you wave him off as he leaves for work everyday.
Imagine him pulling out of the driveway one day when you’re 37 weeks pregnant with sextuplets, leaving for work like any other day. You can feel something is off, but you decide to bounce on your birthing ball and put on some music to relax. Your body is expansive and heavy, full of life. Each bounce makes your tummy and breasts jiggle. You put on a movie but can’t seem to distract yourself from the discomfort and rhythmic pressure in your back. Hours pass like this, Braxton-hicks and other pains twisting through your belly and back. You try in vain to get comfortable while your enormous body aches and cramps. Eventually, you give in and waddle to your bathroom, past your big soaking tub and cabinet of towels, to the shower. You can barely fit inside the glass shower stall, but you eventually manage. You let the hot water run over your back, trying to ease the growing sense of discomfort.
Imagine the gasp of shock as your water leaks from between your legs, slow at first, but then gushing undeniably. You clutch your belly, your knees parted, feeling with certainty now that you were in labor last night and this morning. With one hand on your back and the other holding up your contracting belly, you groan and crouch in pain, feeling your cervix dilating and your hips widening in preparation for birth.
Feel how much lower your belly is sitting, fluid still leaking from between your legs. As soon as the contraction subsides, you turn off the shower and waddle to your bathtub, a huge corner tub with jets for your ultimate relaxation. You got it with the intention of one day giving birth in it.
You wrap yourself in a towel, contractions becoming closer together now that your water has broken. You pant as you start running water in the tub, thankful your partner cleaned the bathroom the other day for you. Breathe, breathe. Feel the way your first baby is already sinking deep into your pelvis. When the contraction ends you hurry to grab some more towels and other supplies. Satisfied, and feeling a sense of urgency, you lower yourself into the warm tub. Your breasts, belly, and the tops of your knees are all that protrude above the water. Your legs are spread wide in an effort to relieve some of the pressure building in your pelvis; feel the baby already making its descent into your birth canal. Breathe, pant, slow down. You aren’t ready yet, you haven’t been in labor nearly long enough.
You let the contractions wash over you, breathing through the pain so that you don’t exhaust yourself. You set up your phone on one of the tub’s wide edges, positioning it so that as much of you is in view as possible. Your husband will want to watch how you gave birth for him later.
Imagine how big you’ll feel, floating in your tub, pregnant beyond imagination, the pressure in your hips indescribable as your uterus contracts. Breathe, feel your body start to push. You can’t fight it anymore, just spread your legs and feel the baby’s head open you up. Throw your head back and cry out as your enormous body pushes your first child out in the bath. The warm water provides only a little relief; you watch in your phone’s camera as your baby crowns, a round red bulge between your thighs. You gasp for air, the ring of fire burning, and hope you were completely dilated before your body started pushing. Your labor seemed to progress so fast. You look up at the phone camera and watch in wonder at what your body can do, breathing the rest of the baby’s head out. See how big you are, how wide your hips have become to pass your child through them.
You grab the backs of your knees, urged on by the sight of your baby’s head between your legs, and push. Breathe, feel the chunky shoulders squeeze through you, breathe and push the thick body out. Your legs tremble with effort, and your groan animalistically as your first baby shoots out of you underwater in a last big push. Catching your breath, you grab the baby and hold his squirming body to your chest.
You wonder if you should call your husband or midwife, as you wash off your newborn’s face with bathwater. You can already feel there won't be time, as you're panting at the pressure building in between your hips again. You rock in time with your breathing, trying to soothe the fussing baby in your arms as you prepare to push out another. You allow your first child to nurse, the suckling on your tender nipples causing your contractions to intensify, your uterus clamping down on your brood. You watch yourself in the camera, your face red and sweaty, your swollen body half submerged in the bath, one child nursing as the next bulges just behind your lips.
Breathe, try to relax…you groan at the unstoppable urge to push, pulling back your legs and letting your body do what comes naturally. You stare at the enormous bulge forming between your legs again, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes as the ring of fire burns and your second baby's massive head crowns. The contraction ends and you whimper in pain at the huge head lodged in your birth canal. It slides back a bit, but can still be seen behind the engorged red lips of your vagina. Breathing laboriously, you watch your heavy belly rise and fall, your tender opening stretching painfully in preparation for what's to come.
Bring your legs back…it's difficult while nursing one baby and still pregnant with several others. The bath helps keep some of the weight off your back, saving you some of the strength you need to bring all this life into the world. Spread your legs, feel the next contraction building. Take a deep breath and push! The baby's head is spreading you open, your pelvis just barely holding it together as you birth your heavy second child. The delicate flesh of your opening clings tightly to the big head, and you struggle to push it all the way out, squirming and moaning. The contraction ebbs, and you dizzily try to catch your breath. This baby is huge.
You wait a few minutes for another contraction, your body straining around the baby lodged in your pelvis. Sighing, frustrated but grateful for the reprieve, you slowly get to your knees (as smoothly as you can manage with a baby bulging out of you) and finish cleaning up your first child. You cut the cord and swaddle him, placing him safely in a warm towel beside the tub.
The pressure on your tummy from leaning over the edge of the tub, along with the help of gravity, helps your child shift into a more comfortable position to be born. You squat and angle yourself towards the camera, crying out as you start to push again. You feel the big head sliding out between your hips, inch by inch into the warm water. The pressure is unbearable; you gasp and weep as your delicate opening is once again stretched to the limit. Using the phone camera as your guide, you lean back and angle yourself to see how far you have to go. The head is fully crowned, bulging out of you farther than before. You catch your breath, delirious with pain, clinging to the edge of the tub. Sink into the squat, let the motion and gravity help bring the baby down. Breathe, and puuush that baby out.
You scream in shock as the rest of the head slides out of you, hanging between your legs beneath the sweaty red orb that is your belly. You gasp for air, but your body is already pushing again before you're ready. You groan with the pushes, your hand resting soothingly on your heaving belly. Keep pushing…almost there…
With a gasp and a squeal you feel your second baby slide out of you underwater. You waste no time in cleaning him up, nursing him, and swaddling him in a towel. Feeling a lull in your contractions, you add some more warm water to the bath. You lean over the edge of the bathtub, marveling at the two tiny babies you just birthed, feeling more still swirling and kicking in your womb. You feel so full and heavy still, though your tummy is much softer than before. You turn off the water and lie back, stroking your globular belly lovingly as you wait to give birth again.
After some minutes of watchful silence, you decide to move your babies; you can always come back when you're closer to pushing again. You heft yourself awkwardly out of the tub, squat to pick up your newborns, and slowly amble to the bedroom, where a cluster of bassinets awaits beside your king-size bed. You huff and puff as you strain to move, dripping water on the carpet but without enough free hands to grab a towel for yourself. You place your babies in their bassinet, letting them sleep while you spread some towels and old blankets on your bed, placing your water bottle and first aid kit on your night stand. You're going to be very tired when all this is over and want everything you need within reach.
As you walk back and forth between your bed and bathroom, you can feel the next baby sinking lower in your abdomen and pelvis. Every sway of your hips lets it slide deeper into position. Suddenly you gasp and clutch the doorway to the bathroom, crying out as you're seized by a contraction and unconsciously sink into a squat. Your hips feel full again, so you waddle to the tub, panting to keep it in until you can get in the water and start the camera up again. You moan, the head pressing up against your lips as you squat in the bathtub, and turn on your phone's camera again just as you feel the uncontrollable urge to push once more.
Breathe, feel the warm water ease the weight off your belly and back. Sink into the squat and push! Feel your baby inching out of your body, watch as the head spreads your opening. You pant as your body clamps down, the head spreading you wider until it hangs between your legs. Good push, just like that!
You gasp for air, watching your belly heave above the baby's head between your legs. Then you shudder, your body pushing on its own once more, as the rest of the baby slides out of you into the bath. Just as shocking as it was the last two times, you scoop up your baby, clean her off, and hold her up to your leaking breast.
You can't believe you're only half done. Exhaustion is starting to set in, your body trembling with the effort of carrying and giving birth to so many babies at once. Your husband will be home soon…hopefully he won't be too shocked.
As you carry your swaddled third child into your bedroom, another contraction seizes you. Immobilized, all you can do is grip the doorway and sink to your knees as another baby shifts into position to be born. Your body aches from tensing so much, your head swimming from breathing so hard. You clutch your sleeping child to yourself and try not to scream as another presses its way towards your birth canal.
After what seems like ages, you're able to get your bearings enough to leave your baby with the others and prepare to bear the next one. As you near the bathtub, you stumble and fall to your knees as another contraction takes over. You groan into a towel to muffle the sound of you screaming through the pain, your entire body tense and straining.
As the pain ebbs, you gasp for air and check your phone, which has just gone dark. Dammit…only 2% battery. Your charger is next to your bed, so it looks like you'll be having the rest of your babies there.
You take a deep breath and nudge yourself to your feet, swaying as your center of gravity has shifted wildly in such a short amount of time. It takes effort, what with the next baby already sliding into position to be born, but you manage to waddle back to the bedroom, plug in your phone, and position it at the end of the bed on your tripod. You hope your husband appreciates all this effort you went through to record everything.
You whimper and crouch again, bending over the side of the bed and shaking through another contraction. You moan with the pain, clambering into bed as smoothly as you can. You can feel the baby coming. Lying on your back, you cry out as your body starts to push again.
Hold your legs apart, make room for your baby. You tuck your chin to your chest, pushing with all your strength alongside painful contractions. You cry out, screwing your eyes shut as the ring of fire forms again, your baby already crowning. Breathe, breathe. You pant as the head continues sliding out of you, your body doing most of the work to expel your remaining children. With a shaky moan, your fourth baby shudders out of you in a gush of fluid and blood. Lying on your back, you feel delirious and weak, gasping for air. At the sound of crying, you push yourself upright and tend to your baby, wiping birth fluid from her face and allowing her to nurse. As she does, you're caught up in another contraction.
With barely any time to catch your breath, you're already pushing again, this fifth baby moving through you as though in a hurry. You sit up, one arm propping you up, the other cradling one of your newborns, your legs splayed awkwardly before you. You draw your knees back and push, groaning at the weight between your hips, the head sliding through you uncontrollably fast. Panting, you birth the head in one push, and the rest of the body on the next. You squeal at the sudden sensation of your baby coming out of your body so quickly. You pick him up, rubbing his back and listening for his cries. You're exhausted…but counting the babies in their bassinet and the two in your arms, there's only one left. Your husband will be home soon, you note as you look at the time. You hold a baby to each breast, trying to get your bearings while they feed. There's not much time now.
You moan again, arching your back and prying your legs apart as far as you can. The contractions are becoming unbearable, as though your womb is trying to make sure it wrings everything out. You gently set your babies aside, already panting for breath at the pressure building between your legs. You're giving birth again, the baby's coming. You scream as the familiar tear-shaped slit forms between your hips, the baby's head already starting to bulge out of you. Keep breathing, you're almost there. Trembling, you try to conserve your strength, fighting against the urge to push as you breathe your baby down into your birth canel.
Breathe, it hurts so much, but the baby's coming fast. You can't help it, you have to push. You watch as your raw opening widens, straining around the head of your last child. Leaning back, you spread your legs to give a good view to the camera, throwing your head back and crying out as your baby comes. That's it, keep pushing, you can feel the head crowning, slipping past the point of no return. You tremble and see how worn-out and swollen you look in the camera, drenched in sweat and trying not to tear. Another cry, another contraction, another big push, and suddenly the baby gushes out of you.
You look up just in time to see your husband enter the bedroom doorway and drop his keys, his mouth open in silent shock. You smile weakly and fall back onto your bed, listening to the infant cries bubbling up around you.
You know those agricultural expos where you can watch a cow give birth? What if that, but a cowgirl instead? And she's enjoying all of the attention *very* much. All of those people, here just to see her have her calf? She'd better give them a good show~
I just saw this and it’s been on my mind all day!! I love cow girls~! Let’s do this!!
“Mooooooo!”
I can hear labored mooing and moans in the stalls next to me. I’m a breed cow girl, made to birth stronger cows for farms. Most of the other heifers don’t enjoy giving birth, but secretly I do. My short brown hair contrasts nicely with my white ears and tail. I have on a skimpy little cow print bikini and that’s it. My large belly is swollen with a calf that is too large for a normal human to carry. I rub my belly gently, I’ve been in labor since the night before. I walk around my pen, doing little stretches as onlookers watch.
“Mmmrooooooo….!”
I moo out in pain as a sudden contraction hits me. I lean up against a mount made for me to hold onto. As I breathe through it, my water pops. A fluids trickle out of me but I don’t seem to notice at all. I’m too into the process. The calf is coming NOW. The people watching start to gather when they realize what’s going on. It won’t be long till I’m pushing out a huge calf.
“Hoooo… hooooooooo…”
Half an hour after the water broke and I’m breathing hard. The half’s head has passed through my cervix. It’s massive. I’m blushing so hard as people take photos. I’m waddling around, mooing and moaning loudly. My tail flicks happily as I’m watched. I just love the attention birthing gets me.
“MOOOOOOOO!!!!!”
I bear down again, the body coming down now. With how large the full sized calf is the head is forced to my entrance. My skin bulges out and I am now forced to squat while holding the bar. My legs shake, I’m excited. More people are watching.
“M-Mroooo! MOOOOOOOO MROOOOOOOOO!!” I push again, mooing as the snout of the calf pushes out. The head follows fast as it crowns causing me to scream my moo’s instead. I look back, seeing everyone watching my entrance stretch. “Mmhhh~! Mooooooo!!!!”
I give it another push, wiggling my little butt like I’m trying to get the head out. It’s so painful~! It slips out with a gush of fluids. But that was the easy part. A contraction rips through me soon after and I squat again. The body is massive. I sob and cry, my hips bouncing which makes the bell collar I have in jingle. The body slowly begins to stretch me open. But it’s slow and painful. People are filming me and praising me for my work. I can’t help but push again even without a contraction, my tail moving up to show the body slipping out.
“NNNNRRROOOOOO MRRRRHHHH GAHHH!” I yelp as the massive calf slides out of me. People are cheering. I turn around and do a little polite bow, smiling happily as I sit down to nurse my new calf.
When I was 4 my parents were approached by a very wealthy family and said they would pay them handsomely if they agreed to have me marry their son as soon as I turned of legal age. When shown the amount of money my parents agreed.
On the morning of my morning of my 18th birthday I was married to the man I was promised to. He was already in his late 20s.
I don't remember much of the ceremony save having fun, and how nice and sweet he was. The next morning I woke in my new home my belly looking a little bloated, probably because I ate too much the day before. My new husband comes up and seems to marvel at my belly, rubbing slow circles over it. And something in me stirs, a brain fog of sorts. I wanted him so badly. I really wanted to be fuller.
He can see the daze in my eyes and he coos I'm responding to the drugs better than his family thought. As he speaks he rubs my smooth pussy, teasing it. Soft moans escape my lips as my mind continues to fog, only a deep need to have him in me. I can feel something massive push against my opening. When did I get so wet? I cry out in a blend of pain in pleasure as his giant cock splits me wide.
As he begins to thrust he explains, his family only take women whom they believe will respond to their cocktail or fertility and ambrosia drugs. All the men have nice massive cock that grow when they are with a suitable mate.
I just moan as he pounds into me, dumping more of his seed into me. My womb filling and my belly swelling. He says their drugs delay fertilization to ensure many eggs are fertilized. I feel him rub my now heavy cum filled belly. Nice and big like I was about to pop.
My belly kept growing from there, his young growing inside me. I'm only a month along and I can't stand on my own. I only wear the smallest clothing because he loves to marvel his handiwork. Apparently him and his 2 triplet brothers are in a bet who can have the most babies before their brides hit 21. So as I move around in a lust drug state he pumps me with more fertility drugs.
His mom had "only" 30 kids. He wants me to double that by the time I'm 30.
Being cursed to be constantly pregnant, and you give birth every time someone asks when you're due
At first you tried to hide it; you’d wear baggy clothes and make comments about your weight to keep people from bringing it up first. It’s hard enough being reduced to a waddle 24/7, you just want to be able to get groceries without being completely incapacitated by labor.
But eventually you get lazy. It’s hard to wear big jackets in the summer, after all, and you want to accept your body for how it is. Living in shame and fear is no way to live.
It’s such an innocent question, especially since you absolutely look like your water could break at any second. The contractions come in fast waves, rippling through your body and breaking your water in seconds. The force makes you bend over and grip your belly as tight as you can until it knocks you over and you’re leaning back with your legs spread. There’s no time to go to the hospital or find a doctor; you’re already crowning. You know exactly what to do by now. You push, and you can’t help moaning and crying out like you do every time. Right now, all the attention is on you, and it’s not nearly as bad as you ever could have thought. As you push your belly is as tight and full as ever, as if whatever’s passing through your birth canal came out of nowhere. Your belly is still twitching and kicking against your body’s natural wishes.
Hi everyone! This was a fun one to write. As always, it's super self indulgent and written over several months. I would very much love to know what people think of it!
Written by @pregnancyismykink :)
**
“Harder, please Master, harder.” You cry out as he snaps his hips, every part of your body singing with pleasure as he fucks you in the cramped space of the downstairs closet. The shelf rattles under your hands with every thrust and you can’t help the moans escaping your lips.
“Yes yes yes…Sir please!”
He makes a strangled noise behind you and the grip on your hips tightens, enough that you’re positive you’ll have bruises tomorrow.
Your arms shake, your strength leaving you as your body gets closer and closer to release. He thrusts up harder, your feet almost lifting from the floor. His fingers dig deep into the dips of your hips and suddenly he’s buried deep, searing hot warmth flooding your insides.
He stops moving, much to your dismay, but you don’t dare say anything against it. After all, you were just a house maid.
He leaves soon after, leaving you to clean yourself up, and as you walk out of the closet, you can still feel his cum dripping down your thighs.
**
Henry and Mary Maybourne were a wealthy couple living in the countryside. Maybourne Manor, a large three story mansion with over 100 acres of land, was the talk of the town on any given day.
When the couple found out they couldn’t have kids, they graciously decided to open their doors to many of the children without families, orphaned by the combination of the plague as well as an ever raging war with the neighboring country.
You happened to be one of the lucky ones who’d been welcomed with open arms. You had been 12 when your parents passed, as well as both of your brother’s and your younger sister. Mrs. Mary and Mr. Henry were so very kind to you, opening their house to you without hesitation. And you felt indebted to them.
You learned from the servants in the house how to handle the duties around the manor: cooking, cleaning, gardening and even nighttime duties for Mrs. Mary. Mr. Henry had his own servants, and it was unseemly to have a female waiting on a man.
But as you got older and you started filling out, Mr. Henry’s eyes seemed to wander a little more, and a little longer. Especially once you turned 18.
At dinner, when you fill his goblet, his eyes wander over the breasts that had rounded out on your chest, barely contained. The corsets you were made to wear didn’t help that of course.
And at night, when you’re busy helping Mrs. Mary undress, you can feel his eyes boring into you from the bed, undressing you with just his gaze.
You were 19 when he first pulled you into that downstairs cupboard. He shushed you, caressing your face and promised to take such good care of you if you behaved. And behaved you did.
You lost your virginity in that closet. Bled around him as he fucked you without remorse. And you’d enjoyed it.
You very much still enjoy it, and it appears so does Mr. Henry.
**
“Child, pay attention.”
You feel a sharp slap to the back of your hand and jump, looking down at the now ruined dough. You smile sheepishly, setting the milk jug back onto the counter.
“Sorry Miss Gerty. I’ll start a new batch.”
Miss Gerty shakes her head but doesn’t say anything further as you move to grab the ingredients once more from around the room. The heat of the oven must be getting to you, as well as the early morning fog, for you’ve been feeling rather unwell the last couple of days.
You put the flour and sugar on the table and try to adjust your corset, pulling at the strings to loosen it some with no luck.
“Cursed thing,” you mutter to yourself, yanking on the tight waist. You swear it didn’t used to be this tight.
You’re forearm deep into kneading the new dough when Mrs. Mary walks into the kitchen.
Miss Gerty straightens, plastering on a fake smile. “Mrs. Mary, what a pleasure it is! What can I do for you this morning?”
You straighten your back, watching the two converse, but you awkwardly smile and bow your head when Mrs. Mary makes eye contact with you.
“We will be throwing a ball at week’s end. I will be hiring some extra help to assist you in the kitchen. Mr. Lotty will discuss the menu with you.”
While Mrs. Mary is speaking with Miss Gerty, you can’t help but notice that her eyes never seem to leave you. They wander over your breasts, a longing sort of look in her eyes, but it’s gone in a flash and you ignore it, sure you must’ve seen it wrong.
She leaves after a few minutes, but you can’t help but feel like she has something on her mind.
**
That night, as you’re loosing the strings of Mrs. Mary’s corset, Mr. Henry is nowhere to be seen. You keep quiet, doing your duties, but as she finally steps out of the last layer of clothing, she sighs and turns to face you, a look of contemplation on her face.
“Is there something the matter Mrs. Mary?” you ask, keeping your voice soft.
She doesn’t answer, just steps closer and pulls the end of your braid, her fingers gentle.
You don’t know what’s happening, but if you’ve learned anything in all the years of working here, it was that silence was always the answer.
“You have grown into a fine young lady,” Mrs. Mary says finally, her voice quiet, her fingers brushing over the top of your breasts.
It’s a miracle you keep your soft moan from escaping your lips. Your breasts had been extra sensitive lately, especially your nipples.
She dropped a finger to the middle of your corset, pulling on the strings in the front.
“I’d like to see just how well you’ve grown in our care, if you don’t mind.”
It wasn’t a question and you knew it. You were caught, and as long as you never had to leave the Manor, you didn’t care what they did to you. You would enjoy whatever they gave.
You untie the laces on the front, pulling them out and loosening the corset, breathing easier as it falls to the floor. You were only wearing two layers under it, and you slide the shoulder straps off your shoulders and drop the fabric to the floor at your feet, revealing your naked body to your mistress.
“Hmmm, yes. A fine lady indeed.”
Her fingers trailed over the swell of your breasts, down over the curve of your waist, over the slight pudge of your lower belly, and around your hip and to your ass, cupping the heavy globe in her hand.
“It’s no wonder my husband has taken a liking to you.”
Your head shoots up before you can think, eyes wide in shock. Mr. Henry had made you swear to keep this secret…
Your heart raced. Would you be fired? Would they kick you out?
Mrs. Mary seems to sense your fear and raises a brow, scoffing. “You didn’t really think I had no idea what my husband was doing every night, did you?”
The blush that covers your cheeks is enough of an answer.
“It’s a shame of course,” she continues, pulling the tie from the end of your braid and undoing it so your thick brown locks fall over your shoulder. “He should’ve shared.”
Before you can process what’s happening, she leans down and wraps her lips around one of your oversensitive, perky nipples. It makes you jump and a soft moan falls from your lips, leaving you flushed and embarrassed.
“Mistress…”
Mrs. Mary shushes you, a thin pale finger to your lips.
“I want to enjoy you too. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You don’t really have a choice, but even if you did, you would choose to go along. Feeling her fingers on your breasts as she pushes you back against the bed, her soft warm lips caressing your shoulder and then down your chest and stomach…it was incredible. So different than when you were with Mr. Henry.
The backs of your legs hit the bed and you stumbled, Mrs. Mary using a tight grip on your hips to keep you from tumbling to the floor.
“Careful now,” she whispers, pushing you more gently back towards the bed. You sit on the edge, heart racing, unsure of what exactly was going on, but Mrs. Mary’s fingers dipped between your legs, in the same area Mr. Henry liked to play with, and your jaw dropped on a gasp, your head falling back.
Warmth blossomed between your legs, something you hadn’t felt before, at least not this intensely. Your breath stutters as Mrs. Mary’s fingers leave you only to replaced with something even hotter, and wet.
“Mrs…” you whisper, but she shushes you again. You look down, your legs spreading on instinct, as Mrs. Mary’s tongue pushes between your folds. It sends fireworks through your body, making you tense up.
“Mrs. Mary…please,” you gasp out, not even sure what you’re begging for.
“Hush now child. I’m going to take care of you.”
And take care of you she did. She pushed you back onto the bed, letting your head fall back onto the plush mattress. You could hardly even focus on the exquisite linens underneath you as Mrs. Mary’s tongue and fingers did so many things to you. And it wasn’t long before you felt a burning warmth deep inside, something you’d only ever felt in pieces with Mr. Henry. It swells and burns in your stomach and hips, making your hips buck up into Mrs. Mary’s mouth, and she hums, pinching something between your folds that sends you over the edge.
Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and frozen all at once. The pleasure sparking on every inch of your skin, leaving you so incredibly sensitive as Mrs. Mary’s fingers run over your breasts and back between your legs. You whimper as her tongue presses against that spot again, legs trembling and body aching for more.
“Stay with me tonight. Henry won’t be back until morning.”
It wasn’t really a question and you knew it, but you still stuttered, sitting up slightly.
“Mrs. Mary I couldn’t. This…this is your bed. I couldn’t intrude.”
Mrs. Mary sighs and shakes her head, sitting up, her fingers still distractedly running over the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“Nonsense. Stay.”
You didn’t have a choice. And you didn’t really care.
“Yes, mistress.”
**
For two more months you handled your chores, pleasured Mr. Henry, and pleasured Mrs. Mary. Neither of them wanted you to tell the other, and you were pretty good at keeping your mouth shut. Though, you were sure both of them already knew.
However, a few weeks after your first time with Mrs. Mary, you started falling ill. Nothing life threatening, and it didn’t keep you from sharing the bed with both of your masters, but it was concerning, nonetheless.
You were in the kitchen one afternoon, setting the table for yet another of Mrs. Mary’s famous masquerade balls, when a sudden bout of nausea almost knocked you to your knees. Your stomach cramped and you cursed, putting your head on the counter, trying to breathe through the nausea, but the heat of the kitchen was just too much and you ran out the servant’s entrance, falling to your knees at the side of the chicken coop and lost all the contents of your stomach.
There wasn’t much to begin with, and the acid burned the back of your throat as you retched, holding your stomach in hopes that it would subside soon. The corset wrapped around your middle certainly didn’t help.
You pulled at it, loosening the laces. “It didn’t used to be this tight” you thought to yourself. Before, you could at least fit your fingers under the tight fabric, but now that was a fight. Despite not eating much, your stomach has been getting a slight pudge to it.
“Get it together.”
You took a few breaths, feeling better now that the nausea was gone, but the burn in the back of your throat grew worse. You needed some tea and some rest, but right now you didn’t have time for either.
You rinsed your mouth out with the well water, spitting out as much of the bad taste as you could, before heading back inside to the bustling kitchen to finish preparing the food for tonight’s banquet.
**
You dressed moderately for the occasion, a simple beige dress and dark brown corset. The laces were loosened much more than you usually allowed, but the nausea from earlier still hadn’t gone away.
A white mask adorned your face, matching that of all of the other servants’ masks as people wandered around the dance hall, chatting and laughing. You stood dutifully by the banquet table, in charge of making sure none of the plates went empty.
Maidens and young men waltz around the room as the music sways and you find yourself smiling softly at the sight. It’s beautiful, and one day you wanted to be the one dancing on the floor instead of standing by the tables, but you knew that was an impossible wish. Instead, you greeted the people as they approached, explaining every dish with care and an eloquence you’d only learned from being Mrs. Mary’s servant for so long.
Late into the night, with many of the patrons stumbling around drunk, you felt a hand on your waist.
You startled, turning to find a man much taller than you, a deep black mask covering most of his features except for his mouth, which was turned up in a slight smirk. The coat covering his chest was made of rich gold embroidery with a deep black fabric that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight.
The man smiled, his teeth gleaming in the light, and you felt yourself grow weak at the feeling of his arm around your waist.
“Would madam care to take a walk?”
Even dressed in your nicest gown, even with your hair done up the way it was, there was no way this man mistook you for one of the maidens attending the party. But his words, the soft lilt of his voice, the burning of hunger in his eyes…it was intoxicating.
“I’m to attend the dining table all night, sir. I must turn down your offer.”
Even as you said it, you regretted the words. Just for one night, you wanted to waltz, sing, and indulge in the revelry. Just once, you wanted to be a normal girl, not a willful servant of the most popular people in town.
The man frowned slightly, his hand still lingering on your waist, but then he looks around, his beautiful green eyes wandering the room before falling back on you.
“I think a few minutes won’t hurt. The attendees are all too drunk to notice your absence anyway.”
It was true. Most of the people attending the banquet had either left or made their way outside into the courtyard, leaving just a few stragglers and drunkards around the ballroom. Before you can even give your answer, he’s leading you away from the party and towards one of the many connecting hallways.
He picks one of the less well-lit ones, taking his time but keeping his hand firmly on your lower back, guiding you around like he’s been here for years. You follow along, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your back, the attention welcome.
With all of the banquet celebrations, you hadn’t been able to see to Mr. Henry or Mrs. Mary for a week, so you were craving that closeness. This stranger would do nicely. You liked his voice and the warmth he provided was inviting.
He turned another corner, stopping before a small wooden door, and you wanted to laugh. It was the same closet Mr. Henry liked to frequent.
He opened the door and hurried you into the small, cramped space, not wasting any time as his hands started to wander over your body.
“Been waiting too long for this,” he whispers, his lips playing with your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.
His hands start fumbling with the laces of your corset, pulling them out roughly as his mouth moves deliciously over your neck and now bare shoulder. The corset comes loose, falling to the floor, and the shoulder straps of your gown soon fall too.
Your breasts fell out of the gown, bouncing slightly as he played with them. Even now it still surprised you how large they were. They’d always been round and heavy, but they sat a little lower these days, your nipples darker and much more sensitive than they’d used to be.
The stranger seemed to like that fact as his lips wrapped around your nipple, making you gasp and moan, hips moving forward into him. He hummed softly and his tongue brushed over the sensitive tip of your nipple and you jerked, fingers digging into the man’s shoulders.
You’re so lost in the feeling of his velvet tongue on your nipples, you don’t feel his hands under your skirt until the chill of the room brushes across your now bare legs. He makes quick work of your undergarments, tossing them to the floor in the same place as your corset, and his fingers start playing with the slick wet heat between your legs.
Your body jerks as he presses 2 fingers into you without warning, splitting you open. You clench around them, enjoying it all too much but also wanting something more. Something bigger.
A gasp falls from your lips as his bulge presses against you. Still clothed, he was still much larger than Mr. Henry, and the idea was exciting. Even Mrs. Mary’s makeshift toys hadn’t been this big.
He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, fingers clenching and pulling at the dark velvet of his jacket, but he shushes you softly, capturing your lips with his own just as the tip of his bulge presses up against you.
Your mouth falls open and he pushes his tongue in, your head falling back as he starts pushing you hard against the wall. He starts pressing his hips up against you and it feels so good you almost beg him to never stop.
You wrap an arm around his shoulders, fingers digging into the nape of his neck and the other finds a grip on a nearby shelf, holding on tight as he presses his member deep inside you. It’s so tight, so incredibly hot, but you bounce on him, wanting all of it in you as fast as possible.
“Please sir,” you pull back, begging quietly, wrapping a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. He’s only buried halfway and you look down to see the deep veins throbbing inside you.
He groans, burying his face in your shoulder, one hand squeezing your breast and the other holding your leg around his waist. He starts moving faster, his thick and heavy member pressing so deep inside you, so much deeper than you’ve ever felt anything, and your body seizes too fast.
Your grip on the shelf and his nape tightens as your body tenses, mouth falling open as your head falls back against the wall, hips moving uncontrollably as he finally presses himself the rest of the way in. You clench and throb around him, feeling him twitching inside you, the warmth spreading through your whole body despite the chill of the room.
“Such a sensitive one, aren’t you,” he mutters, chuckling.
“Yes sir, please…keep going.”
He grins and moves in again, his teeth playing with the sensitive skin just behind your ear and your body curls in, too sensitive but also wanting more.
He takes his hand from your breast and puts both hands on your waist, holding you tight as he starts to forcefully fuck you. Your back hits the wall and your grip on the shelf grows weak, but you never once ask him to stop. He’s not Mr. Henry, you can make noise.
“Yes, yes, aaahhhhh please!”
The noise is honestly lewd, the squelching of your fluids mixing with that salty white cum that seems to only come out of men. He lifts your leg higher, putting it over his shoulder, practically making you do a split as he spears you, his member digging so very deep.
“Look so good like this,” he grunts out, his forehead shining with sweat. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, pushing you harder and harder against the wall, and it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that now familiar warmth starting to grow again.
His breathing grows heavier in your ear, exertion clear in the huffs he keeps letting out, and you can’t help but match his hurried breathing, your chest heaving as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to that delicious warmth.
“Close,” is all you can moan, your voice hoarse. He changes angles suddenly and you feel sparks shoot through your body, your nipples tingling from the attention.
His fingers drop between your legs to play with that sensitive spot between your legs that Mrs. Mary likes to play with so much and it takes all of two seconds for you to start crying out, your whole body reacting to the release of all that built up warmth.
He keeps going, fucking you hard, and your thighs ache from tensing so hard. Fluid squirts out of you on every thrust, soaking the floor and the deep black fabric of the man’s pants, but you didn’t care. It felt too good to care.
He didn’t seem to care either because he just kept going and going and going until finally he tensed up, pressing his body all the way up against you until you were trapped between him and the wall, and then you felt his member twitch and grow hotter.
His moans echo around you, his breath caressing your ear as his hips keep making small movements, thrusting up into you every few seconds. You dig your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling so amazingly content.
“Sir, please…”
He doesn’t bother moving, his face sweaty as he turns into your neck again, sucking on that sensitive skin again. He lets your leg fall back to the ground and you gasp at the change of angle, feeling even more full now that your legs were both on the floor. You didn’t even try to pull off of him.
He drops a hand between the both of you, playing with that too sensitive spot and you jerked away with a gasp, a whine following after when he didn’t stop.
“It’s too much. Please…”
“Come on,” he interrupts, his voice velvet in your ears. “Just a little bit more. You can do it.”
You shook your head but didn’t try to move away, letting him do what he wanted. Your hips moved of their own accord, moving with and away from his fingers, but you couldn’t get far. It was far too sensitive but it still felt good. Good enough to keep you from fighting it.
“Just a little bit longer,” he whispered, catching your lips in another wet kiss. Mr. Henry never did that. He preferred silence too. But this man…
“When can we do this again?”
The question was quiet, a whispered hope, but the man smiled beautifully, his eyes glittering. “I’ll be back next month for Mrs. Mary’s birthday. Find me then?”
You nodded, spent and exhausted but still aching for more. His fingers swirled around the little nub and you groaned, tensing again and again as his fingers never relented. His member twitched inside you again and that was all it took before you felt that rush of release again.
“Promise me you’ll find me,” he whispers, his voice husky and low. You swallow, throat dry and aching from your moans, but you look up at him and nod.
“I promise. I’ll find you.”
He grins and pulls you in for another kiss, this one softer than the rest, and then he pulls out, making you twitch and clench around the sudden emptiness.
“I must get back before I’m caught missing. I look forward to seeing you again,” he said, fixing his clothes up and readjusting himself. The deep black color of the fabric made it impossible to see any evidence of your nighttime activities, and he knew it.
He turned and left, closing the door behind him, leaving you aching and full.
It’s only after you pull your undergarments and gown back on that you realize you hadn’t even gotten his name. He’d left you with nothing but a steady stream of cum leaking between your legs.
**
“Have you been stealing food from the pantry?”
Miss Gerty gives you a stern look, her arms crossed over her busty chest. You were running late this morning because you struggled with your corset. It was nearly impossible to get on now, barely reaching the bottom eyelets for lacing.
Your stomach had certainly rounded out in the month since the banquet. You weren’t sure what caused it, especially since you’d actually been eating less recently due to the nausea.
“No ma’am. I swear it!”
Miss Gerty only raised a brow in disbelief, clucking her tongue.
“I don’t believe you, but you’re too good to let go. Don’t let me catch you stealing or you’ll be out on your ass, understood?”
You nod frantically, hands tucked into the folds of your skirt, the corset digging uncomfortably into your ribs.
“Get back to work. We have a lot to prepare for Mrs. Mary’s birthday.”
You nod again, keeping your head low as you get back to work, fingers shaking as you grab the ingredients needed to make Mrs. Mary’s favorite pie.
**
The preparations go well enough, and the party starts early. Guests arrive from all over, donned in fancy clothing and jewelry shiny enough to blind you. You are once again dressed in your nicest gown, the same beige gown you’d worn that month ago.
The dark brown corset didn’t fit this time though so you went with a lighter off-white colored one, loosening the strings as far as they’d go and still feeling it was too tight.
You’re still in the kitchen prepping the last minute dessert requests when Mrs. Mary finds you.
“You’ll work yourself to death if you keep going like that child.”
You startle, catching yourself and giving her a small smile and a dip of your head in greeting.
“Why aren’t you at the celebration?” she asks as she moves closer, her gorgeous gown of midnight blue stark in the dirty kitchen, her beautiful brown hair tied up into an intricate knot on top of her head putting your own side braid to shame.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Mary. Gerty asked me to prepare the last few dessert changes before joining the party.”
Mrs. Mary is close enough now to touch but you keep your dirty hands to yourself, not wanting to stain her gown.
She doesn’t seem to have any hesitations though as she reaches forward, putting a hand on your belly.
“Enough work. Come, I have a gift for you.”
She grabs your hand before you can protest and she leads you out of the kitchen, leaving you confused and anxious but happy to be out of the heat of the kitchen.
She leads you upstairs and past several doors before landing on one you’ve never seen before at the end of the hallway. She smiles at you and you give her a small smile back, unsure of what is happening.
But then she opens the door to reveal a bedroom, well furnished with a window overlooking the back gardens. The wardrobe sits open, clothes filling it almost to the brim. You have no words, still unsure why you were here.
“Mrs. Mary?”
She smiles again, tugging you into the room.
“Surprise!”
Your heart is racing, making your fingers tremble a bit, but you manage to stutter out a few words. “This…this is for me?”
Mrs. Mary nods, a big grin on her beautiful face.
“You’re carrying my husband’s child, so I am making sure you are well taken care of.”
You startle again, brows furrowing.
“What?”
Mrs. Mary looks surprised, a chuckle coming out of her. “You weren’t aware? Look at how your belly has grown dear.”
She moves closer, putting her hands on your stomach, making your stomach clench at the touch. It had been two weeks since your last session with either one of them.
“I’m surprised you didn’t know. I had my suspicions early on, when your breasts were just so beautifully sensitive,” she says, pulling on the neckline of your gown until one of your breasts pops out. “And I’ve been sure of it since last month, when you grew ill and started loosening your corsets.”
She leaned in, wrapping her lips around your thick, dark nipple and you let out a small whimper, unable to hold it in. It was all too much. You didn’t know this would happen. Let alone this soon in your life. But…you didn’t mind.
She pulls off with a pop, licking her lips as she fondles your breast, squeezing and bouncing it in her hand.
“These have grown so much. I can’t wait to see how big you are when you are near your due date.”
You shudder at her touch, feeling yourself grow wet between your legs. Her fingers have always felt warm and amazing.
“And you should stop wearing these now,” she adds, pulling at the strings of your corset, letting it drop to the floor, much to your relief. “It’s not good for the baby.”
You can’t believe this is happening. You’re pregnant, with child, with Mr. Henry’s child no less. And Mrs. Mary is okay with it.
“Mrs. Mary…I—”
“Hush child,” she interrupts, a finger to your lips. “I can’t carry a child of my own, so this will have to do. And I will expect many children from you.”
You nod, wide-eyed but growing more and more excited by the second.
“Come now, let’s get you dressed in a proper gown."
**
By the time Mrs. Mary is done with you, you look radiant. She pulls a mirror over to show you how you look in the deep emerald green gown she put you in and you gawk at the image, amazed at how well your body has taken to the pregnancy.
Now that you know, you can see it all the more clearly. Your breasts have rounded out and sunk even lower, held up for now by the wide ribbon Mrs. Mary wrapped under them. Your stomach has begun to round out as well, and it’s especially visible in this gown. Almost like Mrs. Mary wants to flaunt your belly in front of everyone.
Your hips have thickened and widened as well, making the dress wrap perfectly around your curves like it was made specifically for your measurements. You weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t.
Mrs. Mary wraps an arm into yours, leading you out of the room and into the main hall, heading towards the bustling grand ballroom. Your stomach is alight with butterflies but Mrs. Mary soothes you with a few quiet promises to make you feel better tonight, and then you’re entering the room, immersed in the golden light of the room, living out a dream you never thought possible.
**
The night goes by too fast. You’re lost in the splendor of it all, dancing on the dance floor for the first time in your life. Mr. Henry steals several dances with you, seemingly aware of yours and Mrs. Mary’s conversation. You supposed they finally talked about the arrangements.
By the end of the night, you were flushed with exhaustion, aching from all the movement, and out of breath, but it was still the best night of your entire life. The lights, the people, the recognition in some of the other servants’ eyes…it was amazing.
You found a seat off to the side of the room, resting your aching feet until a familiar gentleman steps in front of you. Even though you hadn’t seen his face that night, his build was too perfect to forget.
“You look stunning tonight,” he says, his voice still dripping that warm enticing sound that goes straight between your legs. He’s not alone though.
Mr. Henry comes up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder with a grin as Mrs. Mary comes up on the other side of the man.
“Doesn’t she? We chose well with this one,” she says, her hair still perfectly pinned up on her head.
Mr. Henry nods, a grin on his face and once again lost in how gorgeous he really is. The navy suit, dark and perfectly suited really brings out Mr. Henry’s eyes. And the stranger, his eyes glistening with knowledge of something you were unaware of, looked absolutely divine in his own dark brown suit, handsomely complimenting his eyes as well.
You stand from your spot, bowing your head to the three of them, just now realizing the once bustling room was now empty save for the remnants of the servants and the mess of the party.
“How can I help you?’ you ask timidly, unsure of yourself. You didn’t know they knew this man, the stranger who had pulled you into the closet and taught you how much fun it could actually be.
Mrs. Mary laughs, her eyes sparkling as she wraps a hand around your waist.
“Oh dear, tonight is going to be all about you. I promise.”
Your brow furrows but you don’t dare protest as she leads you from the ballroom and up the stairs, the men following close behind, to a very familiar room. The master bedroom suite, utilized by Mr. Henry and Mrs. Mary.
The door opens and closes, and then you’re alone in a room with all three of the people who have pleasured you in the last several months.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.” Your voice is quiet and shaky, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued.
Mr. Henry and the stranger take off their jackets and ties, warm smiles on their faces while Mrs. Mary grabs your hands and leads you to the edge of the bed.
“Dear, you have already given me the best birthday gift I could ever ask for. The child you’re carrying will be a legitimate heir to our estate. And Mr. Keely here would like for you to do the same for him and his wife. Once you have birthed this one, of course.”
She looks to both of the men, who are now stripped down to only their undergarments and you feel yourself grow warmer, now very much aware of what was about to happen.
Mrs. Mary continues. “You and Mr. Keely have already had the pleasure of meeting of course, and he is here to make you more comfortable with him. We thought it might be easier to accept his request if you were well acquainted with him first.”
She lets go of your hands to pull at the end of the ribbon, releasing it from where it was wrapped around your breasts all night. You feel them fall and don’t miss the way everyone’s eyes fall to them.
“You’ll be well rewarded of course,” she says, now untying the string at the back of your neck, loosening the tighter fabric there. You feel the fabric shift lower as she pulls it off your shoulders, revealing your naked upper body.
You’re practically dripping between your legs now, unable to keep from pressing them together to relieve some of the pressure there.
Mrs. Mary pulls you up so you’re standing and pulls your dress the rest of the way off, leaving you completely naked in front of her. Mr. Henry and Mr. Keely come up behind you now and you feel their bare chests press up against your back, making you tremble from the heat radiating off of them and the chill of the room on your bare skin.
“We’ll take care of you,” Mr. Keely whispers, his lips so close to your ear. Your body shudders and your eyes draw closed, lost to the way your body feels in the moment.
His lips caress the shell of your ear and you let out a small whine as Mr. Henry’s copies on the other side. Their lips, warm and wet on your ears, throat and shoulder are nothing compared to the feeling of Mrs. Mary between your legs.
Her breath is the only warning you get before her tongue presses into the folds of your dripping slit, and your legs go weak, but you don’t fall. There are hands on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, pinching and pulling at your nipples, leaving you gasping at all the stimulation.
“We’ll make sure you never want for anything,” Mr. Henry says now, his teeth brushing over your shoulder as his fingers pull roughly on your nipple. His hands are rougher, bigger, stronger, while Mr. Keely’s are softer, clearly well taken care of. A man who never had to do manual labor.
“And we’ll make sure you’re happy,” Mrs. Mary adds, her breath hot between your legs. You can’t see, can’t even open your eyes, but you don’t need to. These people could take everything from you and you would still drop to your knees for them.
The room is spinning, and you’re so incredibly warm. The feeling of cool sheets on your bare skin barely registers as they move you to the bed, situating themselves around you. Mr. Henry is underneath you, with you straddling his waist, his member poking your slick heat.
Mr. Keely moves behind you, his own member pressing against your ass, which you’ve never felt before. You don’t get a chance to focus on it though as Mrs. Mary appears in front of you, straddling Mr. Henry’s face. She smiles warmly at you, and then she draws you in for a kiss, distracting enough that you don’t scream when Mr. Henry finally presses inside you, his fingers reaching between your bodies to play with your entrance.
You feel fingers from behind playing in the slick dripping out of you and then they’re pressing to your ass. They press in carefully but insistently and you moan loud, clenching around Mr. Henry.
Everything is too much all at once, hands roaming all over your body, fingers in places you’ve never felt, and the feeling of being so incredibly full so new to you. Mrs. Mary’s fingers start to play with your nipples and you both let out gasps of pleasure. In a moment of lucidness, you see Mr. Henry using his tongue to pleasure Mrs. Mary, and her hips grind down against him much like your own are doing on his member.
Mr. Keely finally presses into you, and you cry out, the stretch something entirely new and near painful. But the pain gives way soon to pleasure, and then you’re even fuller. You take a little to get used to it but they both start moving in tandem inside you, sliding in and out, and you can’t take it anymore.
Your entire body tenses and you let out a gasping cry as you come, squirting fluids all over Mr. Henry every time he pulls out. It makes a mess but it only seems to spur them on more as Mrs. Mary moves in to pull one of your nipples into her mouth.
They don’t stop moving, making you shake hard from the pleasure continuously shooting through you. Mr. Keely and Mr. Henry find a rhythm soon enough, and as one pulls out, the other pushes in. It’s maddening but also incredible and you let your mouth fall open, not holding back your moans anymore.
Your nipples tingle, your whole body trembling and throbbing, and you lose yourself to the heat of it all. The hands on you, the members in you, the feeling of so much skin on your own. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming again, lost once more to the pleasure.
**
After that night, life gets much easier. You’re no longer required to work around the manor, instead now allowed to meander around the grounds with Mrs. Mary. She shows you around her gardens, the town, the market, and you even get to take a visit to the local lake. The feeling of that cold brisk water against your heated body was heavenly.
Months pass and you grow used to being so well taken care of. Mr. Keely visits every few weeks, and you’ve come to anticipate his visits, knowing it’ll lead to more nights with all three of them sharing your bed.
You’ve grown in the last 3 months as well. Your breasts and belly have rounded out spectacularly, and it drives Mr. Henry crazy every time he sees you. He likes to mess with you, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling your breasts out of their fastenings whenever he feels like it.
The first time he did it in public, you were embarrassed. People who had once been your equals, serving the table for dinner, watched as Mr. Henry groped and played with your breasts without a care in the world. But it felt so good and was so nice to be cared for in such a way, that you didn’t care. Mr. Henry could do whatever he wanted to you.
You’re asleep in bed one night, listening to the bugs chirping outside your window as the soft breeze carries into the room and caresses your bare upper half. You’ve taken to sleeping without clothes, for moments exactly like this and because it was far more comfortable than trying to force your growing body inside the tight fabrics inside your wardrobe.
Mr. Henry opens the door and you smile softly to yourself, keeping your eyes closed. He thinks you don’t know, thinks you’re asleep, and most of the time you really are, as he sneaks into your room and into your bed, using you.
He slips under the covers with barely a sound, already hard and naked, and slides himself right behind you, pressing his thick member into your slit and using you. You keep quiet as he does this, letting him do whatever he wants until he stiffens and comes, small grunts coming out of him as he makes his last few thrusts and pulls out.
He always leaves you dripping, a slick stream leaking out of you when he’s done, and while it means you always have to change your sheets, you don’t mind.
**
By the time you reach your ninth month, you’re glowing. Mrs. Mary parades you around town, showing off her surrogate, showing off the strong and healthy belly you have to all of the people wandering around.
Her friends gawk at you over tea, their hands always finding a way to your belly, touching you whenever they feel like it. It’s nice. To feel so loved. So appreciated.
It’s afternoon tea when you feel the first cramp around your middle. It’s nothing crazy, and it’s gone after a few moments, so you don’t think much of it. But they keep coming throughout the day, each one getting worse and closer together.
By the time you undress and get ready for bed, belly full from the day of feasting, your back is aching something fierce. You groan softly, leaning against the bed and swaying your hips side to side. It relieves some of the pressure and you keep doing it until the pain stops. You still don’t think much of it as you climb into bed, getting comfortable.
**
Mr. Henry visits you again in the night. He does his usual, climbing in behind you, pressing himself inside and reaching around to play with your heavy breasts. They’ve started to leak now, preparing for the babe in your belly, and he likes to make a mess of it.
He comes inside you and you sigh softly, unable to keep the moan from your lips. When he pulls out though, much more fluid escapes than usual and you stir awake.
“Mr. Henry? What’s happening?”
Your voice is hoarse and the lack of light in the room means you can’t see, but Mr. Henry smiles, his teeth gleaming in the bare light, and you groan as you feel another cramp clamp around your middle.
“It’s time."
**
Mrs. Mary finds you an hour later, laid up in bed and groaning through another contraction. Mr. Henry had called for her as well as a few other servants, candlelight now illuminating the room. Mrs. Mary looked just as overjoyed as Mr. Henry and you couldn’t help but feel excited.
“Oh, dear it’s time!” Mrs. Mary exclaims, climbing onto the bed to rub your belly.
It tightens under her hand and your face scrunches up as you breathe through it, taking deep breaths and letting them out.
The physician soon comes in with a small bag on his shoulder and you feel better seeing him here.
“The Maybourne heir is finally here,” he says, giving a small bow to Mr. and Mrs. Maybourne. You smile at him, nodding slightly back.
“Let me get a look at you,” he smiles warmly, moving closer to the bed. He climbs up onto it, between your legs, instructing you to spread your legs a little more and you do. He puts on a pair of gloves and you rest your head back on your pillows as two of his fingers press inside you.
It’s a weird feeling, but nothing new. You’ve had so many other things inside you this is nothing.
The pressure is intense though, especially when he presses down on your pelvis, palpating the area. You’re just about to ask him to stop when he pulls back.
“She’s doing great. 8 cm dilated already. It won’t be long now.”
**
For the second time in your life, you want to curse the world. The pain seizing your lower half is so intense and tight it steals your breath. Mrs. Mary has to remind your several times to breathe through the pain.
You’ve shifted now, on your hands and knees on the bed, belly brushing against the covers of the bed as you sway back and forth, little moans and whimpers escaping every few minutes. Mr. Henry rubs your back and wipes your hair out of your eyes, kissing your temple and calming you as much as he can.
It hurts so much, the baby’s head huge between your legs. The physician watches silently, only interfering to check on your progress. It took another 3 hours after his last check to dilate fully, and another hour on top of that to feel the baby slip out of your cervix and into your canal.
Mrs. Mary cups her hand over your swollen slit and you whimper, a tear escaping as another contraction comes.
“Push now, you can do it.”
You do what they say. You push with all your might, legs trembling when you finally stop pushing, the baby moving ever so slowly.
They say they can’t see the child yet and you feel exhausted already. But this is what you were meant for. You can do this.
With the next several contractions, you bare down hard, feeling the head slowly beginning to stretch you out. You feel the babe move lower and lower, your lips parting on a scream as the top of the baby’s head hits Mrs. Mary’s hand.
“Oh my,” she says, her voice soft. “Look at them. They’re so close. And a head full of hair.”
You hear the tremble in her words but you can’t focus on anything but the burn. It feels like the baby’s head is slicing you in half, stretching you so much more than you ever thought possible. You push and push and push, crying out as the baby’s head crowns more and more.
“You’re doing so good, love. Almost there.”
You heave, gasping for breath, but as the next contraction comes, you bare down again, screaming through it as finally, the head pops out with a jerk of your hips.
You almost collapse but Mr. Henry keeps you up, his hands warm and soothing on your sweaty skin. You can’t see what’s happening but the physician is checking the baby, his fingers pushing in past the baby’s head and you don’t even have the energy to complain.
The relief is short lived, another contraction seizing you all too soon, and you’re right back to pushing.
It takes another hour. Of pushing, screaming, crying, sobbing, and altogether misery, but the shoulders finally push past your tight lips and the rest of the baby follows easily in a rush of fluids.
You collapse forward, body spent and exhausted. Mrs. Mary exclaims it’s a boy and you feel your own tears matching hers.
“Henry, look. He’s absolutely perfect.”
Mr. Henry moves away from your side and you just breathe, burying your face in the pillow. But the physician doesn’t allow you to rest just yet.
“Turn over on your back dear. You need to deliver the afterbirth.”
You whimper but do as he asks, flipping over onto your back, your legs almost useless. He moves between your legs and presses on your stomach. Mrs. Mary thankfully moves up next to you with the baby boy in hand, and places him on your chest.
“It’s very important to get him latched early so he can be big and strong.”
You nod, so so tired, but the tiny chubby cheeks of your baby mesmerize you. He moves his little head, his hands balling into fists, but as soon as you push a nipple into his mouth, he takes to it immediately.
You jerk a little at the feeling, but he soon starts suckling and you lean back against the pillows, pushing whenever the physician instructs you to.
By the time you’re done, the baby is well fed, the bed has been cleaned, and you pass out from the exhaustion.
**
You stayed with Mr. Henry and Mrs. Mary for another year after Henry the 2nd was born. You breastfed him for the whole year, weaning him off more and more by the end of the year. He was the most adorable curly haired boy you’d ever seen, and Mrs. Mary doted on him so much.
Mr. Henry was already talking about how he was going to teach Little Henry how to ride, how to hunt, how to be a proper gentleman, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly at his words every time.
But now you’re standing outside the manor, dressed in traveling clothes, your bags packed around you on the steps leading out of the manor. Mr. Keely would be here soon to pick you up. For you weren’t done carrying, and you didn’t think you’d ever want to be. His wife was very much looking forward to a child of their own as well.
“Ba b aba!”
You turn around at the noise and grin as little Henry toddles over to you, his chubby cheeks rosy from the morning breeze.
Mrs. Mary follows close behind with a smile on her face, her eyes watery.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving. I don’t know what we’ll do without you.”
You smile, picking up little Henry and blowing a raspberry into his throat.
“I’ll be back. I would never leave Maybourne Manor for good.”
Mr. Henry comes out of the doors and you set little Henry down on the ground, watching him toddle towards his father.
“We’re going to miss you,” Mrs. Mary says, eyes watering even more now.
You grin and shake your head, moving in to pull her into a hug, squeezing tighter than necessary.
“Thank you…for everything you’ve done for me. And for giving me a life I never thought I could have.”
Mrs. Mary pulls back, sniffling and wiping her eyes as Mr. Henry gets closer, little Henry squirming in his arms.
“We’ll never be able to repay this kindness. Please do keep us in mind in a few years when Mr. Keely has a new heir.”
You nod, unable to speak through the knot in your throat. Your own eyes burn and you try to keep the tears from falling but you’re unsuccessful.
A carriage rumbles up to the stairs and Mr. Keely steps out, a grin of pure beauty on his face.
He waits for you at the door of the carriage, standing tall and proud. The driver starts loading your bags, and soon the only thing left to do is say your goodbyes.
“Thank you. Both of you. For taking care of me all these years.”
They both smile sadly, even Mr. Henry’s eyes seem to be glistening.
“No, thank you. For giving us everything we could’ve ever wanted.”
You hug them both, holding back your tears as you place a kiss on the top of little Henry’s head, and then you’re waving goodbye through the window of the carriage, the bumps of the driveway making your still swollen breasts bounce.
You stare as long as you can, until the Manor disappears from view, and then you turn to Mr. Keely, seeing him already looking at you.
“You’ve matured. And by God you are gorgeous.”
You blush, unable to hide your smile. His words always did things to you.
“I can’t wait to see you swollen with my own child this time,” he says warmly, leaning in to kiss at your throat. You shudder and sigh, leaning your head back so he can reach more of your skin.
He scoots a little closer on the bench, his lips doing magic to your throat as his hand pulls the hem of your gown up over your knees, his fingers brushing the bare skin of your legs, making you shake with anticipation.
It’s been a year since you’ve had this, and you wouldn’t refuse now.
“Mr. Keely~”
“Hmmm, I’ve got you,” he whispers, his fingers inching closer and closer before finally dipping past your undergarments and into your slick wet heat. You lift your hips a little as he pulls your panties off, his hands guiding you onto his lap.
His pants are tented and your mouth waters at the sight, knowing you’re finally getting what you want again.
“Fuck me.”
Mr. Keely laughs but does as he’s told, undoing his pants and holding himself up for you to sink down onto him.
This was your life now, and you would get as much out of it as you possibly could.
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