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Delayed, Part 6 - Male Version
🕑 Added 2022-10-14 15:58:20 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Note: This is a male version of Delayed.
Summary: A man makes web cam videos, and is paid to display his pregnancy online. The bigger he grows, the more money he makes. He even takes drugs to delay labor to maximize his income, and promises his clients that he will give birth naturally, and livestream it. People even start placing bets on the day he’ll finally give birth. The man pushes himself to his absolute limit, and finally can’t hold his babies in any longer. He makes the final arrangements and gets ready to induce himself, when suddenly, at the very last moment, an anonymous follower offers him $10,000,000 to put off his delivery for another month, and sends an advance of $1,000,000 just so he knows he’s serious. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.
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"It’s a misunderstanding," Peter wheezed out just before a new contraction left him groaning as he clutched at his quaking orb.
The two officers had frozen to stare for at least three minutes. Finally, one seemed to snap out of his reverie. He blinked hard several times. "I'm afraid you'll have to take this up with the courts." He roughly nudged his partner, who startled and shook himself. The partner fumbled with his belt and produced a pair of hand cuffs.
They had to be kidding!
"I'm in labor," said Peter desperately. "Ohh godddd..." he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as another contraction tore through him. Once it ended, he gasped out, "Lookat me. I—I can't—"
"Do not resist," said the first officer, the burlier of the two.
Amy, the doula, looked utterly panicked. Her eyes darted from one person to the next. "I can't be involved in this. This isn't what I agreed to. I have to go."
"Amy, wait—" Peter started, but Amy had already hurried out of the room. Peter could hear her shuffling through the house. The front door opened then slammed shut.
Now the skinner officer was by the bed trying to force Peter into a sitting position, grunting from the exertion of heaving him up.
"I can't—nngghhhh...ohhhh...I have to give birth," Peter protested as his hands were cuffed behind him. "I'm in labor." He moaned. His belly heaved and jumped. The officers had fallen into staring again, looking at his massive belly, rather mystified.
Finally, the burly one tore his gaze away. "We'll have you seen by the jail medic."
Peter’s legs felt like jelly as he was dragged to his feet, the officers groaning on either side of him as they strained to support him. His belly looked like a bolder, his tits the size of volleyballs. He was bulging heavily from the clothes he had on, his shirt only really covering his breasts, while his too-tight sweatpants were practically pasted to him. His huge belly was fully visible, bulging out in the open, every heave, quake, and lurch of movement evident to gawking passerby as he was dragged outside.
"Oh god, they're coming!" cried Peter, nearly collapsing. The officers groaned from the strain of his weight.
"Yeah, yeah," the burly one forced out. "Get in the car."
Peter was crammed and stuffed into the backseat of the police cruiser, breathing thinly as he tried to adjust himself into a position that didn't make him feel like he would burst right open. The pressure was surging downwards, his first baby already in position. He couldn't give birth in jail. He had put so much effort into dragging out this pregnancy. He needed to give birth on the livestream and get the money he had earned.
"You don't know what you're doing," Peter moaned.
Burly was driving and focused mostly on the road. But Skinny was intently watching Peter through the rearview mirror.
"You're ruining everything," Peter groaned, his belly jerking and heaving through the next contraction. He arched and milk seeped into his shirt until it started dripping through.
"Maybe you shouldn't have broken the law," Burly quipped.
Skinny remained silent, still silently staring.
Peter was dragged into the precinct, hardly able to move on his own. Officers and perps alike froze in place to gawk at him. Everyone seemed to freeze up for a moment, even the clerk when they got to booking.
"Peter Pryce," Burly said.
"Oh god, oh god," Peter unconsciously folded but Burly and Skinny kept firm holds on his arms, keeping him mostly upright.
"Nghhhh....gahhhh..." The booking process was long and tedious, and he was hardly aware of where he was anymore. His face was flushed and sweaty, tears pouring down his cheeks. The contractions were strong by then, his belly squeezing painfully, pushing his babies lower. "Hoooo...hahhhh..." He couldn't give birth now. He had to get home, had to get back on his livestream. Peter clutched his ass. It felt like a baby was trying to crown. "Nrgghhh..."
Peter was brought to a cell. Skinny's hands were wandering, exploring, rubbing into Peter’s sweaty, heaving swell, but no one else seemed to notice, and Peter was in too much pain to complain. He grunted as he was lowered to a bench, and he slumped back, too afraid to sit fully on his backside. God, they were coming. He squirmed and panted. In his periphery he made out the blurry images of other prisoners looking at him, but then his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on breathing through the pressure and pain.
He didn't know how long he sat there, whining and rocking while straining to hold his babies inside. But there was the sound of the jail door unlocking. Someone called his name.
Peter slowly looked up. "What?" he hiccupped.
"Your friend posted bail. Get moving."
It was a lofty request. Peter planted his hands on the metal bench. His feet fumbled beneath him, trying to find leverage. He braced himself to rise, but a forceful contraction left him sinking to his side. His hole burned as a bulge began to form in the back of his pants. God no, it was crowning! He hugged what he could of his massive belly, willing the babies to stay put as his whole body trembled in protest, the pressure and the burn only exacerbating.
Someone strode in, coming to stand next to the officer. "Peter?"
It was Brad. "W-what are you doing here?" Peter choked out.
"I posted your bail," Brad said, looking utterly worried as he hurried over. "We have to get you to a hospital."
Peter fervidly shook his head. "Take me home," he rasped.
Brad hesitated. "Okay, fine. Let's go."
Brad was strong. He did most of the work in getting Peter up, and Peter proceeded in a sort of crab walk. Brad wrapped his jacket around Peter’s waist, though it didn't offer much coverage. His belly was still protruding out on full display, his white shirt rendered transparent by all his leaking, Peter’s swollen nipples bulging visibly against the thin material.
There were mutterings and gasps as they got to the parking lot. Peter just groaned and let Brad lead him to the car.
The baby felt huge, stretching him painfully. Peter’s contractions were back to back and he could hardly breathe. Brad took a moment to adjust the passenger's seat for him. He helped ease him in, and put Peter’s feet up on the dashboard. The engine hummed, and Peter was nearly delirious from pain by then. "Oh god Brad, I can't, I can't—"
"Hold on."
It was precisely what Peter had been trying to do for the past few hours. He groaned his way through another contraction, trying to fight the urge to push, but it was nearly impossible. The head shuddered forward, maybe only another fraction of an inch, but it was trying to shove its way into the world. He cupped the bulge beneath his sweatpants, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Haahhhhh...haahhhh..." He struggled to breathe.
"Almost there," said Brad, as the car cruised onwards.
The head jutted forward at least another inch, causing Peter to throw his head back and scream. His belly felt so huge and low, lurching and spasming, trying to squeeze the kids out of him. "Call Richard," Peter heard himself sob.
"Let's get you inside first."
It was only then that Peter realized that they had arrived at the house.
His legs felt numb. Walking was even more awkward and excruciating. He had to stop every few moments for a contraction, gripping Brad for support while also cupping his backside, trying to hold everything in for just a few moments longer. God, he couldn't believe how large it felt. He alternated between fear of giving birth off-camera and fear of his large baby just being stuck in place, unable to proceed due to its size.
"T-thank you for bailing me out," Peter managed as he hobbled inside. He paused as he enduring another contraction, a long groan escaping his throat. His sweat was dripping onto the floor, skin burning with heat. "Even af-after everything I did."
"Of course." Brad rubbed his back consolingly.
They got to the office and Brad helped him onto the bed there.
"How did you even know I was arrested?" Peter managed.
There was no response, but maybe Brad hadn't heard him. Peter didn't have the energy to ask again.
"My computer," Peter croaked. "Make s-sure the camera's runnin...ngghhh…ohhhhh..." His belly rolled and the baby inched forward, crowning more.
"Is that really necessary?" said Brad. There was the distinct snapping noise of the laptop being shut.
"God, Brad." Peter didn't know how to explain everything to him. His web fame. The payments. The promised livestream. "I just need the camera on!" he whined through another contraction, the baby shoving forward despite him. It was really coming! He screamed as the head pushed out.
Brad took a long breath. When he spoke, he sounded so articulate compared to his normal blasé demeanor. "My payment should be more than sufficient without the additional funding of the livestream. And I would honestly prefer a private show."
Peter didn't understand. His body was straining, trying to push out his baby's shoulders. He screamed with his next push, contractions barreling through him back to back. He couldn't hold back any longer!
Only as he quieted down to gasp for breath did Brad speak again.
"Peter...I don't actually work stock at the grocery store. I'm the owner. I own the whole chain."
"I d-don't understand."
"It was always me. I planned everything. I added hormones to your food, pumped everything you consumed with oils and calories. When I found out you were having triplets, I almost lost my mind. I was so fucking excited. After all, I'm your biggest fan.”
What…what was he talking about!?
“I've been watching your videos for years; since your first ever stream. I knew I had to have you. My only regret is that I couldn't knock you up myself."
Peter sobbed as it all came together. “MakeYou97!?”
"The cash is in the car. The whole nine-mil."
"Oh g-god!" Was Brad a stalker!?
But Peter couldn't contemplate the situation any further. With another hoarse groan, he pushed the first of his triplets into the world as Brad sat back and did just as he’d intended. Enjoyed the show.
The End
