Darla jumped for joy at the positive test result. Right there in front of her was the delightful little “+” mark showing that she was finally carrying the little bundle of joy she had been trying for for several years.
Bluntly put, Darla was a slut.
A prostitute by profession, she humped as many guys as possible, as often as possible, and insisted on no condoms, ever. She had obsessed about pregnancy since going through puberty years before, but nothing ever seemed to work. Now, at last, her dream had finally come true.
To keep the money rolling in, she continued to do her job, knowing that the bigger her belly, the more she could charge the part of her clientele that got off on screwing a pregnant woman. She started to show a littler earlier than most, much to her delight, and made sure to wear anything and everything that showed off her bump.
Darla could not imagine a more wonderful life than being pregnant, screwing as many guys as she wanted whenever she wanted, and getting paid for it on top of that. Every morning she woke up full of energy, massaging her growing belly and admiring herself in the mirror before taking her daily deep enema cleansing. The sunlight found her at the beach in the tiniest bikini that was still legal, the moonlight found her with two, three, four and sometimes more men than that, all of them taking turns at whatever openings she allowed them to push into. When they tired of her, she’d seek out a new group, and the fun would start all over again until a waterfall of white spunk flowed from both vagina and ass.
Bigger she grew, and she began to wonder if she were carrying twins, so she finally caved in and went to the prenatal center to get an ultrasound scan. That’s when something curious was discovered.
“It’s an interesting medical anomaly.” the nurse was saying. “When a woman is pregnant, her ovulation stops and that part of the reproductive cycle ends, so that the growing fetus isn’t discarded with the uterine lining is every month when you bleed. But you’re not doing that.”
Darla looked in wonder at the images. There was one infant, almost to term, his feature perfectly formed, and behind him was a second fetus, which the nurse judged to be several months along, but conceived at a completely different time.
“But what does it mean?” Darla asked.
“It means you need to stop having sex until both these children are safely born.”
She gasped, crushed. “But why”
“Because,” said the nurse, looking at her with concern, “If you’re continuing to ovulate, you could end up with a half dozen babies in there before the first one’s even born. Don’t you remember the Octomom?”
Darla did indeed remember, and had masturbated to images of that incredibly huge belly over and over on the rare nights that she couldn’t find a John. The thought that she could get that big made her shudder with desire. The nurse took it as a shiver of fear.
“Exactly,” said the nurse. “So take a breather, have these two kids safely, then we’ll reassess and go from there.”
Darla thanked her, waddled out of the center, and never went back again.
She could feel him…them…as her babies moved inside her belly. She had been cramping a little, and the nurse said she was within a week or so of the big event, so she went home to her innocent-looking little house and called up a friend of hers who had helped other prostitutes deliver their babies safely and quietly. AS an added bonus, Venus had a wide network of business partners who knew how to find waiting couples for the unwanted children. AS much as Darla wanted to be pregnant, she had no interest in being a mom. That was someone else’s job.
It was painful and a little messy, but a few days later the first of her children was born. Kicks from the inside told her that the next one was doing well, despite the disruption, and the next day she was back on the job with a respectably round belly.
Now the challenge was not just to get pregnant, but to see how pregnant she could get.
The money flowed in as client after client had his way with her, sometimes alone or sometimes in groups, whichever they preferred. Either method had its pleasures, and Darla happily sucked up as much jism as she possibly could.
A few months later, she was bigger than ever, and could feel at least two moving bodies inside her womb, which stuck out like a beach ball.
“Hi Venus,” she said upon opening the door. Her friend admired her swollen belly and caressed the pale sphere with her big black hands, slightly jealous.
“Hi girlfriend. What’s in the oven today? Are we close again?”
“I think so. I’m getting a little of that cramping again, and there’s been a lot of shifting and kicking lately. I think it’s moving into position.”
“Great. Love it. So where’s this box you need help with?”
Darla waddled to the side door and showed Venus the large box that was in the garage. The two managed to get it open, and inside was an ultrasound machine, just like at the clinic.
“I was hoping you could use it on me, and we could see what’s in here.” she said, caressing herself. “I’m dying to know how many are there.”
A half hour later they had moved everything to the living room and Darla reclined on the sofa, licking her lips as the hand-held scanner glided over the lube.
“I’m no nurse,” said Venus slowly, “But I think there’s at least three.”
“Really?” Darla squealed, watching the monitor closely.
“Here’s the big one, head down,” said her friend, running it over the biggest lump, “then another, a little smaller here…then a little one back here.” The smallest almost looked like some kind of little animal, with paddles for hands. Another cloudy lump was off to the other side.
“What’s that? Another?”
“I just said, I’m not a nurse,” said Venus squinting at the image. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
A week later, her second child was born, and a few months after that, the third. More examinations with the ultrasound showed that six more waited inside her, all in varying stages of development.
“Almost there,” she sighed dreamily. “I’m trying for at least nine.”
Still she continued to work nightly. It had become very difficult for her to walk the streets, and she was instantly recognizable to any cops that might drive by, so she had contracted with a downtown “services house” to rent the largest of the “service” rooms they had, big enough for a dozen men to join her at any one time.
This went perfectly for several more months, but her knees were the first thing to suffer. Getting out of bed in the morning was becoming a struggle, and as she approached 300 pounds, it was all she could do to get to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal let alone travel to her downtown workplace.
Finally, after her tenth baby slid forth easily with only a gentle push, and the machine revealed that she was, in fact, still carrying twelve more behind him, she made a decision.
“Venus,” she said over her impossibly immense bell, “Call your brother.”
The other woman’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? You’re really going to…”
“Yes,” Darla sighed, a blissful smile on her lips.
Venus’ brother was the Chief of Police, and knew exactly what his sister did for a living , because he had been intimately involved with her activities for years.
“She’s really continuing?” he said as he pulled out of the tiny Asian woman on the bed and wiped the spunk off his big black shaft.
“Yes….isn’t it amazing?” She watched him, admiring his size.
“Open-ended. She wants to see how big she can get.”
“I haven’t done her yet. Maybe I can help beyond just giving you girls protection.”
Venus’ generous lips curved into a devious smile. “I’m sure she’d love it.”
Darla grew with every passing day, taking careful measurements of her girth and not just making personal notes, but posting it to her blog for potential clients to see. Getting from her bedroom to the living room was a Herculean effort- she would take one step, then rest, then another shuffling step, then rest, her belly seated comfortably on some pillows and sliding along the hardwood floor before her.
She had long since given up on wearing any sort of clothing, and after nearly getting stuck behind the narrow bathroom doorway several weeks before, had gotten a temporary toilet installed at one end of the living room. She grew moist at the thought of being unable to use even that any longer.
Finally, the fateful day arrived. Bed creaking underneath her, Darla attempted to hoist herself onto her feet. Attempted, but did not succeed. She was trapped there from the sheer weight and size of her impossibly immense pregnant belly. For a moment she panicked, heart racing, but then the erotic reality of the situation took over and she smiled. This was what she had worked so hard for.
“Carlos!” she shouted, knowing that the handsome cop was nearby on his usual shift. He strode in, shirtless, the sight of his ripped body exciting her and making her pussy twitch. “Carlos, it’s time. Call the boys.”
The pillow nest had already been constructed in the living room, and within an hour, several strong police officers were carrying her to her final resting place there. She helped position herself so that her hips were elevated at perfect fucking height, then relaxed onto cushions with a blissful sigh. In payment for their help, each of them took their turn with her, and she climaxed hard over and over, knowing that this helpless state was to be her life from now on. She would only get bigger.
She had hired a full-time male nurse who carefully monitored her heart, lungs and other systems to ensure that they could keep up with the demands being put onto them. He injected her with vitamins in the morning, and with his semen at night. Other men came to lovingly bathe and feed her and suckle from her milk-filled breasts, still others with darker fetishes took care of her elimination needs when the nurse was away.
Knowing that she was essentially helpless, Venus’ brother or one of the other bodyguards he’d hired watched over her constantly. Rather than pay the ad hoc harem of men in cash, they got to add to the baby batter inside her for free. It was a perfect system.
Men from all over the world were starting to show up, discreetly slipping in through the sliding glass door in the back of the house, and usually freezing in disbelief when they encountered her in the flesh.
“Mein Gott…” said a well-hung, tall, blond German. “I thought das war… a fake picture on ze internet…”
“Nothing fake about it, baby. Come closer and feel them.”
Being a prisoner to her own body had become an entirely new set of erotic delights, and she now housed over three dozen growing children in various stages. With a womb the size of a loveseat, it had become impossible to determine exactly how many were inside because the ones in the middle were hidden by the ones on the outside edges. But it didn’t matter, because Darla no longer cared how many there were, now she was focused on size and immobility.
The big German approached and ran his hands all over her belly, then began to feel more carefully.
“Ooh, a doctor, huh?” She knew that type of examining caress well. “When you’re done there, why don’t you check the inside too?”
For a moment he was puzzled, then, upon approaching the back of her, understood what she meant. Between the constant penetrations and near-constant births that came every few weeks, her vagina hung open in a permanent gape. Her hips were tilted up just enough that there was a huge pool of spunk that accumulated, like a subterranean landscape.
His mouth opened in amazement as he easily slid one of his large hands which seemed to go inside forever.
“Yes.” she gasped, her eyes becoming more unfocused. “God… that’s so good…more!”
He was already up to the elbow in her enlarged hole which had clearly been stretched and used constantly for years. Curious to see if he could do it, he pulled back, then as if diving into a pool, put his hands together and pushed into her. She tried to push back, but was unable to move, so simply rocked the best she could, excited that she was a slave to herself and to this stranger who could choose to do whatever he wanted with her, and she couldn’t do a thing about it.
Darla suddenly cried out, juices squirting all over the man’s arms as she climaxed, the disturbed pool of jism dribbling onto the floor. In an instant he was changing position and had both his hand and his shaft insider her tunnel, where he stroked himself to a shuddering conclusion deep insider her flesh.
“Thank you!” she gasped, feeling his spunk splash all over her cervix which drank it up as she twitched around him.
The bodyguard made sure that the German didn’t forget to pony up the second half of his payment, and ushered him out as the next man came in. Without a word, the newcomer dropped his pants and guided his tip straight into her generous cervix.
“Holy fuck!” Darla squealed and squirmed, the bodyguard stepping forward, but she waved him off.
“You won’t lose a drop of my baby makers,” the stranger said with a dark sniggering laugh, then proceeded to thrust. She cried out, his whole body pounding against her because of the depth required to mate with her cervix. Every thrust sent her belly rocking, the children inside kicking here and there, until soon bother Darla and the man were spasming with climax, his entire load flooding her fertile womb directly, as promised. She almost felt as through she should be paying him instead.
The cervical method proved quite popular, especially for men who didn’t want to jack off inside her cavernous hole or use her ass or throat for their own pleasure. The goal, after all, was maximum impregnation, and her cervix was the tight fit most men were looking for on top of that.
Months and births came and went, her belly continuing to grow, her cervix shifting position the more it was used, so that the relapsing opening was lined up perfectly for entry. In fact, if a man did want to use her vaginally, the new hole had to be held up out of the way. Most clients, however, preferred unloading into the narrower pink pucker, knowing that every bit of what they show would ass to her impossible size.
Darla had been purchasing fertility drugs with her new-found riches, and often had sets of six, eight or more embryos forming behind the other sets. She now proudly carried nearly a hundred inside her womb, which filled the entire living room. She was not just a slave to her own body, she had moved far beyond that into being nothing more than a life support system to a one-woman baby factory.
Darla drifted in and out of sleep between clients, her life one long, dreamlike string of men and births, centered always around the constantly growing size of her womb. It was never enough. She hired workmen to tear down a few walls so that her home was nothing more than one huge room under a seemingly ordinary roof. It was always easy to hire anyone she wanted, to do anything she wanted, they would do anything they wanted to her, as long as at least one load of spunk went into her cervix.
The shape of her belly had been slowly changing, becoming more horizontal rather than perfectly round. The pull of gravity gave her flesh nowhere to go but out, so with each new impregnation, her womb grew longer, the distant end of it easily twenty feet away. Her belly button was only a vague memory.
One day she gazed at herself thoughtfully, her moving flesh filled with dozens and dozens of her children inside one elongated chamber.
I’m like an insect queen, she thought to herself, liking the idea of being a queen very much. She could populate a whole town by herself, and she was treated like royalty, men from all over the world waiting on her every need, and even paying her for the privilege.
Yes. I’ll do this forever, she though in a haze of pleasure as another client released his load into her cervix.