Chapter Text
A certain line of work is called the oldest profession. And this may very well be true—who am I to argue with whoever’s responsible for passing down sayings like that?—but at the very least that job has a sister profession.
Most people probably don’t think of having babies as a job at all, but that’s really just a limitation of their perception. Ask anyone who’s had a baby, done the whole carry it to term and push it out thing, whether or not this was a job and be sure to report back what her answer is. They don’t call it labor for nothing.
Now, of course, there are women who take the baby-making-as-a-job a little more literally than others. Allison Tallum is certainly one of them. She can understand a metaphor or turn of phrase just fine as I’ve come to find, so it isn’t lost on her when people say being a mommy is a profession, it’s just that her circumstance might be a little more textbook than someone else’s.
Allison is a surrogate. A professional one. And a damn good one, too. She’s done this whole pregnancy-for-hire thing five times, which would be a lot for anybody, but considering a few of those involved back to back multiples, it really spoke to her mental and physical endurance that she kept signing up for more.
The first pregnancy was a singleton, of course. And it was planned, if that’s what you’re wondering. Allison’s best friend of over a decade, Kate, and her husband, Jack, had been married for two years and trying continuously to have a baby, but Kate struggled to ovulate and each month ended in nothing but tears for the two of them. It wasn’t even Allison’s idea for her to carry the baby. Surprisingly, it was Kate’s. And since any surrogacy program worth its salt wouldn’t allow a first-time mother to be a surrogate through IVF, they were going to have to do it the old fashioned way.
“But, Kate—that’s your husband. I’ve known Jack forever. Don’t you think it will be weird?”
“Please, Allie, all I’ve ever wanted was a baby. Do this for me? For us?”
“Okay. Anything for you.”
And so the child was conceived. And all it took was a few nights of bareback sex with her best friend’s husband around her fertile window. Nobody said this world wasn’t strange.
There’s no way to know how someone is going to react to a pregnancy. Allison couldn’t have known how she would feel. Especially not like this.
As the months rolled on after that first positive test, the changes began. Her flat, toned belly began to curve outward, almost imperceptibly at first, then enough that the skin itched as it stretched over her expanding womb. Her breasts ached, then strained against her bra, her B cups beginning to tighten around the billowing flesh. Even her ass and hips joined in on the growth, making it difficult to pull up the slim-fit jeans she used to wear every day. And all the while Kate and Jack grew happier and more excited.
Her belly grew larger and heavier, the baby quickly ascending through the upper percentiles in weight. Maybe this was because Allison was quite a tall girl, nearly Amazonian at an impressive 6’1”, or maybe it’s because she was allowing herself to gorge on any delicious food she saw fit. She wanted her friends’ baby to be large and strong, after all. And it was large. By the final month, Allison was lugging around a tight, stretched balloon on her middle, cradling the mass of her womb as she struggled to carry the enormous baby inside her. She was sure this kid was going to split her in half on the way out.
The baby, a boy, was just over nine pounds when he was born. In spite of the difficulty of the labor, where she huffed and puffed and grunted and screamed as she was spread open from the inside by a giant, unrelenting head, the moment she saw the joyous, tear-streaked faced of Kate and Jack holding that beautiful baby, she knew it had all been worth it. And she knew she wanted to do it again.
The next time, she did use a surrogacy clinic. And the next time, it was twins.
If she thought she’d been big with Kate’s nine pound boy, she was blown away but just how big she got with two babies inside her. Her breasts, still swollen and leaking from the first pregnancy, seemed to surge out in front of her in preparation for feeding not one, but two big babies. Her hips exploded outward, widening painfully until she was forced into a constant waddle and her silhouette was a dramatic hourglass shape. And of course—her belly. One baby had blown her up and stretched her out, but two babies simply transformed her. She lie in bed, propped up on a nest of pillows, her stuffed belly jutting out in front of her dramatically, and moaned sensually as she dragged her fingernails across the reddened and itchy flesh, white trails following the path of her digits as they raked across the globe of her womb. Inside her, two babies fought for space, their feet pressing out and making visible protrusions on the already tortured surface of her belly. She felt so absolutely full of life and loved every moment of it.
So when the next pregnancy came around and it was just another singleton, it wouldn’t be true to say that she wasn’t a little disappointed. It had felt incredible to have multiple babies moving in her, and to become so large, that she knew she wanted to have more than one baby per pregnancy from here on out.
The fourth pregnancy. No whammies this time. She’d known the joy of having twins and she didn’t want to go back to having ‘just’ singletons again. The surrogacy clinic supplied her with fertility drugs that would induce ovulation so she could get pregnant again for another family then inseminated her with the hope of getting her pregnant again. Needless to say, it worked. Maybe a little too well. Just six weeks later Allison found out she was carrying a set of triplets.
If she thought she had gotten big before, it was nothing compared to how she would get having three big babies inside her. Her body was primed and ready for triplets and she was going to take full advantage of it. She stuffed herself silly with every high-fat, high-calorie food she could get her hands on, her belly swelling up until it was measuring months ahead of its gestational age. At a mere 20 weeks, her shirts were pulled tight over the mound, the southern half of her belly always visible under the strained fabric of her shirts. Her breasts, though large, were perky and round on top of her belly, which itself was held up by strong, wide hips and thick thighs that jiggled with dimpled cellulite as she waddled. And the movement—god, the movement. Three babies prodded and jerked around inside her, sometimes making her moan even in public. Every now and then the babies would undulate inside her belly so dramatically that an innocent bystander would get a look at the roiling flesh, how it bulged and dented as her litter struggled inside her.
She loved being a massive creator of life, her entire body taken over by her desire to breed, her belly dedicated to carrying big litters of children that she could give to wanting parents. Her only concern was that as she approached the end of her triplet pregnancy, it was getting harder and harder to do things on her own. Each of her babies was hovering around 7 pounds, meaning that even the mere act of standing up from a seated position was becoming nearly impossible. She grunted and groaned with audible strained as she hoisted the stretched, stuffed bolder on her waist up to standing. And with her needing to eat so much to grow so many big babies, it was getting harder to take care of her expanding body all on her own. She was able to do it, but barely.
Which is why when she found out during her fifth pregnancy that she was carrying a whopping set of quadruplets she knew she was going to need help this time.
That’s where I came in. And just in time, too.
When I first met the ever-fertile Allison Tallum, I could tell she was already approaching her breaking point. I had been a caregiver for surrogates before, but none of them seemed quite as enthusiastic about their baby-growing as Ms. Tallum did.
The first time I saw her, she was reclined on her bed, her upper back propped up on a small pile of pillows. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was neatly brushed and brought out the shining chocolate color of her eyes. On her lips was a sweet and maybe even somewhat sheepish smile, as if she knew that her condition was a little embarrassing. I didn’t think it was embarrassing, but I will admit I was surprised by the extent of it.
I was told that Ms. Tallum was 28 weeks pregnant, but she looked much, much larger than that. Her delicate hands rested on the massive upper curve of her belly, the mound dominated her entire lap with its size and shape. She didn’t just look full term—she looked full term with twins. Big ones. The very front of her belly was flushed red, the skin blushing with the strain of carrying four growing fetuses. A few red stretch marks were clawed along the sides of her belly, trailing from her navel to around her hips. I saw her attempt to shift her position in bed but was too heavy to move on her own.
“Good morning,” she said. Her voice was pleasant.
“Good morning,” I answered, approaching her bed. “I’m Kai Graves, I’m going to be your caretaker for the rest of your pregnancy.”
She gave a brief nod. “I’m Allison. Thank you for doing this, by the way. There’s no way I could do this on my own at this point.”
“Of course. It’s my job. And you’re having quadruplets, I doubt anyone could really manage by themselves at this point.”
She laughed. “It’s not for a lack of trying. I did my whole triplet pregnancy by myself, but just barely. And I made it as far as I could with these guys.” She patted her large belly. “But I make big babies so I tapped out early.”
“You made it farther than most,” I assured her. “How are you feeling today?”
“Good,” she answered. “I mean, as good as I can with four babies in me. The diet I’m on is grueling. All I do is eat. And every time I eat, I swear I can feel myself growing.”
Her fingers creeped their way under the hem of her shirt and she pulled the fabric up over the top curve of her belly, exposing the mound in its entirety. She wrapped her arms around it, fingers barely meeting at its apex, and gave a soft, almost pleasured moan as she dragged her fingers down and around its sides. Her belly wasn’t just large, it appeared incredibly dense. The way her flesh had barely any give under her fingers illustrated just how packed full of babies she was, every inch of her insides stuffed through and through with growing children.
“I can’t believe I’m only 28 weeks,” she moaned as she rubbed herself. “I feel like I’m gonna pop. I’ve never been this big before.”
I was entranced by her size, of course, the way her massive, jutting womb pressed her full breasts up towards her chin, but also by the apparent intensity of her condition. Her eyes seemed to roll back slightly as she rubbed herself, her skin multiple times more sensitive now that it was stretched thin over an overstuffed uterus. A bulge appeared on the surface of her belly and she groaned, reaching around herself to palm at the protrusion.
“Your babies seem active,” I commented, not taking my eyes off the thick mountain of fertile flesh in front of me.
“Very active,” she breathed, her head tilted back on the pillow as she palmed a circle around the fetal foot pressing out of her. The appendage sank back down into the hidden darkness of her womb and she exhaled through circled lips. “Would you be able to rub lotion on me? My skin is itching like crazy.”
I took the jar of cream from the stand beside her and sat on the edge of the bed next to her expanded body. Scooping some in my fingers, I began massaging the emollient substance at the apex of her womb, feeling for the first time with both hands just how large and full she was. Her skin lightened to white everywhere my palms pressed, darkening back to its usual frustrated red after a moment. Even through just my touch, I could feel how heavy her womb was, packed with children it was. It was no wonder she couldn’t move on her own anymore.
She hummed softly in pleasure as I touched her. “That feels good,” she sighed, her eyes closed. “This batch of kids is really filling me up.”
Her skin was becoming shiny with the lotion. I felt one of the babies move vaguely under my hands. “You must enjoy this job a lot to keep doing it,” I said.
“Mhm. I love having babies. I’d have even more if I could.”
A fetus thumped against my palm, almost as if it was rolling over inside her to press against me. “More as in more pregnancies or more as in more babies?”
She smirked, like she was pleased I’d understood some secret she’d hidden. “Both.”
I was almost hypnotized by the circling motions of my own hands, the way her belly was so large that I could move them both around and around and still never have them touch.
Another baby squirmed inside her and I heard her moan softly. My manhood twitched in my pants despite myself.
“You’d have more than quadruplets if you could?” I asked, using my thumb to make quick circles around her navel.
She nodded. Her voice was almost breathy. “Yeah. I’d love quints. Maybe sextuplets. Ohh…”
A few disjointed protrusions emerged on her belly as several different babies kicked and stretched inside her. She grasped the sides of her mountainous belly as if afraid it was going to burst on her.
“God, these babies,” she moaned. “So fucking intense when they move like that.”
I was undeniably hard now, watching this beautiful woman overtaken by pregnancy, her womb undulating with the movement of the many children inside her. I pressed harder into her flesh, my hands appearing tan on her pale skin, pushing back against the firm pressure of the babies squirming in her womb. Her hands joined mine in rubbing her belly now, the both of us enjoying how full of life she was, how overwhelming her fertility was.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said, her eyes flickering open to look directly at me. Her gaze was surprisingly piercing. “You like this, too. You like a big, pregnant belly. You like a mama stuffed with babies.”
“I do,” I answered, my pants tented with my obvious erection.
“You like it when my babies move?” she asked, her tone and expression devilish in their enjoyment, her hands moving to the sides of her belly, her fingers splayed wide across the expansive flesh, so she could jiggle the mound in her grasp. Movement erupted on the surface of her womb, her children agitated by the shaking of their home.
I could only nod now. Words escaped me as I watched her flesh bulge, dent, and distort as the lives inside her deformed the mass of flesh pinning her to the bed.
“Then let’s make them move,” she hissed, her thick thighs spreading wide on the bed. “Make this big belly bounce.”
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her soft shorts, pulling them down over her widened hips. I was surprised to see she was naked underneath them, the lack of underwear revealing the soft tuft of pubic hair between her legs. As I pulled the shorts down her fattened thighs, she lifted her tight shirt up over her engorged breasts, revealing her thick, dark nipples atop the supple mounds of fat on her chest. She circled her fingers around the sensitive nubs as I undid my pants, as if she was so eager for pleasure that she couldn’t wait any longer. She bent her knees and parted her legs for me, inviting me to enter in to the warm folds between her thighs.
I lined myself up with her, the head of my cock teasing the slit of her entrance, nudging the sensitive bud of her clit. She moaned, both at the anticipation and the sensation of her belly movement, the towering womb jerking to the side as her babies thrashed in her.
“Please fuck me,” she begged, her voice raspy with desperation. She tugged her thick nipples, her head tilted back on the pillow. “God, I’m so fucking horny.”
I slid in to her easily, her body open and wet and ready for me. She groaned immediately and I felt her tilt her pelvis towards me, as if pleading with me to continue. I pulled out halfway before thrusting in again, her body jerking back as I did. Because she was so large, her body didn’t move all together, it didn’t move as if it was one solid piece. Her torso jerked back with her massive belly on a slight delay, her full breasts wobbling after the initial motion. I pulled out and thrust again, watching the rippling waves of her body.
She gripped her belly as her eyes rolled. “More, MORE!”
Her wet insides squeezed tight around me as I rode her, my hands holding her thick thighs open as I move deep inside her. She grunted with each thrust, her hands rubbing aimlessly across the tight landscape of her belly.
“Oh, god, my BABIES!” she wailed. “They’re so fucking big, oh god, and they’re moving, they’re MOVING!”
Indeed, beneath me, the tower of her belly shifted and jerked dramatically with internal movement, both the physical rocking and the surge of hormones from Allison sending her litter into a frenzy. She was practically bellowing at the sensation, her whole body assaulted from within by aggressive kicks and flips.
I felt my precum squirt into her and my cock thicken. Her feminine lips and inner thighs glistened with her juices, her clit thick and engorged between them.
“You want me to cum in you?” I panted, my skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat, my cock coated in a sheen of our fluids as it pulled in and out of her.
“Oh, god, yes,” she moaned, her hands cradled under the heavy lower curve of her belly as if to hold up its incredible weight. “Cum in me, give me even more babies. Make me a fucking octomom!”
The mental image of her swollen up with eight of my babies, her body pushed to its absolute limit, her womb a writhing monsoon of my children, sent me over the edge and I came hard inside her, rope after rope shooting into her excessively fertile cunt. She pressed her hips down hard against mine as she moaned low and hard, her own orgasm sending her eyes rolling back into her skull, her womb churning as her babies responded to the spike in hormones.
We both panted as we came down, both our palms making lazy circles on her giant belly. Her litter continued to shift inside her, though the movement was noticeably less intense than before. After a minute, I pulled myself out of her, a sensual mixture of both of us leaking out of her.
Finally, she gave a small laugh. “Sorry about that. Pregnancy hormones.”
“I’m not offended,” I responded, pulling my clothes back over myself.
“Good,” she answered, poking a fingertip at a protrusion on my middle that might have been a knee or a head. “Because I can promise you that’s going to be happening more often now. I am entering my third trimester, after all.”
I rested my hand on the peak of her belly, distinctly feeling the body of a baby that rested there. I could hardly imagine her getting bigger than she already was. But I knew she had a lot more growing to do. A lot more.
And I’d be there to help her the entire way.