Regret, Part 15

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Summary: Elliott thought that getting massively pregnant was a fun idea, but ends up regretting this decision. Idea submitted by NLH.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Previous Chapter

-

Elliott just looked so small, sprawled back, whining with his massive belly pressing up against the dashboard. The young man was completely overwhelmed by the extremes of his midsection as it dominated his torso. He was a slim guy. Just all belly. It looked surreal. And as the orb heaved and pulsed, Andrew was finding it challenging to keep his eyes on the road.

“Errghhhh…Andreww…” he moaned.

Andrew pulled the car over and put it into park. He reached over, rubbing both hands over his writhing husband’s abdomen. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“No!” Elliott protested. His small, tense hands were pulling at his clothing, wrenching his tight sweatshirt up over his belly.

The orb was flushed and sweaty; heaving and shivering with Elliott’s squirming.

Andrew drank it in, gulping.

His eyes widened as they caught hints of movement; a visible fluttering on the surface of Elliott’s belly. The subtle movements manifested erratically all over the mass. The babies were just as restive as Elliott was.

Elliott called his name again. Andrew should have felt guilty about how good it made him feel. Elliott’s stomach was just massive, Elliott clutching it, whining as it pushed forward yet another inch.

Andrew just held him, breathing long and deep, trying to get over his arousal that felt inappropriate given the predicament. Elliott was uncomfortable, straining, probably close to pain. Andrew shouldn’t have been getting off from this. He felt another pang of guilt and hoped his spouse couldn’t tell how aroused this all made him. As he buried Elliott’s face against the side of his neck, Elliott groaned and clutched at Andrew’s clothing.

“Shhhhh…” Andrew tried to sooth. Still staring as Elliott’s belly rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and…rose? Was he growing? Andrew was salivating. His hands rubbed circles on the plump, heated mound.

Andrew pulled back, surveying his spouse. “Elliott, I’m worried. Let’s just take you to get checked out.”

“Nngghhh…fuhhhhhh…ahhhhhh…” Elliott arched his throat while spreading his thighs.

“Elliott –”

“It’s fuhhhhh…f-fine,” Elliott choked out, his face red and sweaty and his eyes squeezed shut. There was a vein bulging on his forehead as he gripped Andrew’s bicep. “Just w-wait,” he managed between gasps for air. And slowly, his body did relax, his shoulders sinking, though his belly continued to rise and fall with his heavy breathing. Andrew watched damp spots bloom on Elliott’s sweatshirt against each of his breasts.

Elliott remained like that for a while, breathing. Andrew just observed, continuing to rub soothing circles against his belly. He had never seen Elliott, and the babies, get so riled up.

“Let’s not do that again,” Andrew mentioned, in reference to their visit with Elliott’s parents.

Elliott released a chuckle at that. Andrew leaned over and lightly kissed his head.

Then Andrew leaned back in his seat with a deep sigh. Lightly shaking his head, he started the car.

-

Elliott was in the middle of a shoot.

He was dressed in a skintight blazer that was almost comedic in how small it was on him. It hugged his body, but covered only the upper curve of his belly, his abdomen looking as though it had exploded out beneath it.

The matching trousers were equally tight, displaying his slim legs while emphasizing the plump backside that had developed behind him.

Overall, the look just emphasized the massiveness of Elliott’s pregnancy, the young man attempting to look calm and cool while struggling to remain balanced, all the while puffing out long breaths of air.

Strained and uncomfortable as he was, Elliott tried his best to look unbothered as he struck another pose against the artificial wall behind him. He tried not to flinch as lights flashed and cameras clicked away. He might have finally been getting used to this.

“We’ve got the shot!” Jeffrey shouted, the periphery of the set becoming active with movement as producers hurried around and reviewed the digital images. “Let’s wrap up.”

Elliott’s sighed, allowing his shoulders to sag and his muscles to relax. His huge belly seemed to push out even more, the blazer sliding against him. His tits felt as though they were being squeezed by the clothing.

His sweaty hand slid against the wall behind him as he tried to straighten. Elliott looked up just in time to see Jeffrey bounding over, grinning.

Jeffrey stopped in front of him, slowly shaking his head as he surveyed Elliott fondly. “You did great, kid.”

Elliott didn’t bother to remind Jeffrey that he was heavily pregnant with a damn litter of babies. Elliott was the furthest thing from a “kid” that he could think of.

Jeffrey’s attention was caught by Elliott’s swell, the older man staring at it, as if fascinated. He did this sometimes. He started to raise his hand towards it, but then hesitated, looking back up at Elliott’s face. “Do you mind…?”

Elliott gave a weak smile and a nod. Jeffrey was his boss. And honestly, Elliott didn’t really mind.

Yet he found himself grunting as Jeffrey lightly pet his belly. Jeffrey’s hand was larger than Andrew’s was. Larger, and rougher. It felt kind of nice.

Elliott’s eyes went wide as he felt a sudden twisting sensation deep inside of him. His belly visibly jumped, causing him to wheeze as he clutched it.

Jeffrey gave a hearty laugh. “They recognize my voice!” He pet Elliott’s belly some more.

The babies were positively writhing. Elliott went red, struggling not to keel forward as he groaned.

“Oh! Sorry!” said Jeffrey, withdrawing his hand as he finally noticed Elliott’s discomfort.

Elliott waved him off, panting. He could see the set was clearing out, the last few photographers packing up their equipment. Yes, it had been a good shoot, but how much longer would he have to do this?

Jeffrey noticed Elliott’s forlorn expression. “Why don’t we get you a seat?”

Elliott nodded appreciatively and waited as Jeffrey went and got them two folding chairs. Elliott’s creaked precariously as he eased himself down against the seat.

He could feel Jeffrey watching him. “Just need to — to gather my strength,” Elliott managed.

“Of course, take your time,” said Jeffrey.

The place had finally cleared out. The only people left were the two of them.

The silence was awkward, but comfortable. Were he at home, Elliott would have felt obligated to reassure Andrew that he was all right. And to fill the silence with some positive spin on how exhausting the pregnancy was. For once, Elliott could be contently miserable.

“It must be a lot,” Jeffrey offered. “I know I could never do it.”

“It is a lot,” said Elliott, feeling validated.

“I’m sure,” said Jeffrey.

“No…” said Elliott. “Like, the pressure is insane. I feel like it could just — fall away from me, at any moment. I can barely balance it, and it feels like it weighs more than I do. My body feels like an oven, and this thing isn’t even close to fully cooked,” he ranted, letting the words spill forth unrestrained.

“Fuck,” breathed Jeffrey. That was all. There wasn’t much else to say. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not,” said Elliott with a deranged grin. “Sometimes I consider setting myself on fire.” This wasn’t the type of stuff he could have said to Andrew. It felt good to just let it all out.

“It can’t all be bad?” said Jeffrey, leaning a bit closer.

“Mostly,” Elliott sighed. He met Jeffrey’s eyes. “Feels kinda good to vent though.”

Jeffrey laid his hand on Elliott’s belly, gently this time. He rubbed it over the extensive mass of the orb. Elliott’s eyelids fluttered. “Feels good,” he heard himself say aloud.

There was that comical high he got whenever he was the unadulterated focus of another man’s attention. Elliott hadn’t felt in a while. His cheeks warmed but he didn’t know why. This felt wrong somehow. But it was purely innocent. Jeffrey was just feeling for movement. And Elliott let lots of people touch his belly. Some of the other models had just done it earlier.

And then Jeffrey leaned yet closer, so the two of them were nose to nose. His hand kept rubbing Elliott, tenderly.

Elliott inhaled.

Suddenly, in an impulsive moment, he pushed himself forward and closed their distance.

-

Elliott liked to pretend it had never happened. Sometimes he had himself convinced.

It was just a kiss. Practically nothing compared to how sloppily and thoroughly Elliott subsequently kissed his husband once he got home, and they even proceeded to get under each other’s clothes.

Two days later, and Elliott made sure to be exceptionally professional, or as professional as historically massive young pregnant man could be in his predicament.

There was no one else like him. Probably never would be. What other fit young man who had everything going for him would do this to himself, short of derangement…

“So now that we’ve gone over the new schedules,” some producer was saying. “Any questions?”

Elliott was in the middle of a work meeting. A rare thing for models. He was mostly just breathing as quietly as he could, sweating as he tried to hold it together and wait for this whole pointless thing to be over.

He had noticed that with his increased presence at the agency (what with his desperation to build a nest egg before he popped), the other models’ fondness for him had turned a bit sour. Because when Elliott wanted shoots, Jeffrey was happy to provide them.

Which meant he was taking work away from the other models, what with them having decidedly less authentic conditions.

“No questions here,” Elliott squeaked, hoping to wrap things up so he could lie down in his dressing room.

Darren scoffed from across the table as he examined his nails. Darren was thin and pretty and practically sparkling, his prosthetic belly strewn haphazardly across the table in front of him.

Elliott didn’t miss the glares sent his way from the other models. He did his best to ignore it, even when Gavin leaned over to whisper something in Darren’s ear, Darren sniggering as he shot Elliott a glance.

Elliott was decidedly preoccupied. His huge belly was squashing his lap, as he breathed, looking preposterous where he sat there. Some guy had fucked a twink and blown him up. Elliott withheld a groan as his belly lurched, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

He was wearing a button-down shirt that he seemed to have outgrown as he sat there, diamonds of skin shoving between the buttons.

He winced as his stomach audibly gurgled. He threw a pleading look at Jeffrey who was running the meeting.

But Jeffrey didn’t notice. “I want us to keep moving in the direction we’ve been going,” he said, resuscitating the matter of theme. “With our focus being on Elliott.”

Elliott stiffened slightly, blinking rapidly. Every face turned in his direction, several of the models looking livid.

“We can’t ignore how much engagement he’s brought to the site,” Jeffrey went on. “Subscriptions are up twenty percent, but I think we can do even better. We need to keep the focus on him. The audience wants to see the progression.”

Elliott’s face felt as though it had caught fire. By then, he could practically feel the loathing radiating off Darren and the other models. He kept his eyes fixed on the table.

“Elliott, we need you on board for this. I think we can really do something special with the catalog,” said Jeffrey.

“Of course,” Elliott managed. He could really use the money. “I’m game.” He had no clue what he was in for.

-

“Hear us out,” Jeffrey said. The meeting had ended, and they had all taken a break, then reconvened on the set of Elliott’s afternoon shoot.

Elliott wasn’t sure he needed to hear it. He could physically see what they wanted him to do. He stared at the mountain of pastries, and realized that he was already salivating. They wanted him to grow right on camera. “Progress,” he rasped.

“You really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” said Jeffrey hurriedly. “But the pay is…” He hesitated and leaned to Elliott’s ear, apprising him of a number that was triple what Elliott would have expected. Then Jeffrey pulled back, smiling sheepishly. “What do you say?”

It wasn’t even a question. His face flushed, and one hand clutching the side of his belly, Elliott reached out with his free hand and picked up a pastry.