Her Terms For His Pregnancy free porn video
This story was inspired by one I read 20 years ago in an anthology. I
don't remember the name of the story, the anthology or the original
author, but I do write this with apologies. Anyone else remember it?
-------------------------------------------
I couldn't help but smirk as Kevin waddled through the door, both hands
cradling his swollen belly. I caught his eye and waved. He scowled and
made his way awkwardly through the narrow little restaurant.
I stood as he approached our table and pulled out his chair for him. He
shot me an angry glance, but glumly accepted, squatting down on the chair
with a sigh. I hadn't seen him since very early in his term, and I
couldn't help but grin to see him now, in his ninth month. He looked more
feminine, but like a manly woman.
"You're huge," I said.
Anger flared in his eyes, but he swallowed and whispered, "I know."
He was wearing overalls and a man's white shirt, but I could still see
his milk-swollen breasts. "They're huge, too," I said, covering my mouth.
"I'm surprised you aren't doing more to hide them."
"I'm too tired to care anymore," he said.
I could see it was true. His face had grown puffy with the weight he'd
added as he came to term, and his eyes were ringed and tired.
The waitress came and took our orders. He ordered a big meal and looked
at me, waiting for another wisecrack. I decided to let it go.
Resting his hands on top of his belly, he looked me in the eye and said,
"You know why I'm here."
"I expected you to call months ago and beg for your life."
"I didn't want to give you the satisfaction."
"And now you're desperate to save yourself."
"No." He said. "I don't care if I live or die anymore."
His answer surprised me, but looking at him closely, I felt that it might
be true. Was true to at least an extent. "So, why call me? If you're
planning to kill me, this wouldn't be the place." I'd chosen a public
place for just that reason, but looked at him warily now.
"Once I finally admitted to myself that I was pregnant I thought about
killing you everyday for what you did to me."
"I'm just paying you back for what you did to me," I said, though I had
vowed I wouldn't let him draw me into an argument. Seeing him again,
facing him now, hearing him try and lay a guilt trip on me, it brought it
all back. My own unplanned pregnancy. Him walking out. The botched
abortion. "You ruined my life."
"But I didn't kill you."
I took a deep breath. Calmed myself. Smiled. "You aren't going to talk me
out of it."
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, it's neither here nor there. I
didn't come here to save myself, or to kill you, or to?" He swallowed.
The waitress came with our food.
"How many months?" She asked sweetly.
Kevin smiled up at her and, in a raised voice, said, "Nine."
"When are you?"
"Any day now."
"Congratulations."
Kevin rewarded her with a bright smile.
When she walked away, Kevin looked at me and saw me grinning. "I've
gotten used to it," he said sourly, once again using his normal voice. He
took a bite out of his burger, wiped the ketchup from his chin with the
back of his hand, took another bite. "Sorry," he said, stopping for
breath. "I know you always hated my terrible table manners."
"Well," I answered, "You're eating for two."
"Three."
"Three?"
"I have twins."
I laughed then. I couldn't help myself. "I gave you twins?" I said,
throwing my shoulders back. "I had no idea I was such a stud."
"Yeah, well, you did."
"How can you be so sure? The spell?"
"Makes it so no one else can know? Believe me. I went to doctors early on
when I was in denial, and then later. They can't see anything. Sonograms
show nothing."
"Then?"
"I can feel them," he said, wrapping his arms around his belly. "Kicking.
Fidgeting. Fighting for space. A mother knows."
I narrowed my eyes. Was he calling himself a mother trying to get on my
good side? To gain sympathy? "I guess she does," I said, taking a bite of
my salad, giggling.
"Well," he struggled to get the words out. "They are why I am here."
"What do you mean?"
"Our babies," he hissed, his voice cracking. "I don't want them to die."
I sat back, surprised, as his eyes filled with tears.
"They're innocent," he said, crying freely now, his face turning red.
"They shouldn't die because of me."
"Kevin," I started, but I didn't know what to say.
"Kill me," he said. "Kill me. Torture me. I don't care, but I'll do
anything, give anything, suffer anything for my babies."
Angrily, I started to get up, to leave, but he looked up at me, his eyes
wide and wild with desperation, and I saw it in his eyes: he was a
mother, desperate to save his babies. The pregnancy, it had awakened
maternal instincts in him I never would have thought him capable of, and
he was here, ashamed and begging, because he was a mother who'd carried
his children to term, and he wanted his babies to live.
And I could also see that the man in him, what was left of him, was
choking with shame and humiliation over these feelings he couldn't begin
to understand.
It was too delicious, and I warmed to the whole thing, to a fate for him,
the macho tough guy, maybe even worse than death. Here was the player,
the guy who loved to love ?em and leave ?em, and he was overwhelmed by
feelings only another pregnant female could ever understand.
The waitress, drawn by his hysterics, came over. Together, we calmed the
poor thing down.
Sniffling, he looked at me. "Please, Sarah. I am begging you. Spare the
lives of our babies."
I knew what that meant, and I wanted to hear him say it. "But how? What
are you suggesting?"
He looked down at his hands. "You know."
"You don't have a birth canal, sweety. You know that."
Still looking away, he whispered, "You could give me one."
"But you still couldn't have a child. It wouldn't fit through your
penis."
"You could," and he swallowed hard, "give me that, too."
"What?"
"A? vagina." Then, blushing, he finally looked up at me again. "You could
do it, couldn't you? So I could have the babies?"
"Ask me."
"Sarah."
"You have to ask me for the spell to work." It was a lie, but I was
enjoying it all way too much to stop now.
He rubbed his eyes and carefully, quietly and in a voice thick with shame
said, "Will you give me a vagina?"
"Say please."
"Please," he said. "Please give me a vagina."
I looked at him, not even bothering to hide my glee. I made him wait
until his eyes started slowly filling with tears again, and then I said,
"Okay. I'll do it."
"Thank you," he sighed. "Thank you."
"I wish I'd thought of giving you a cunt to start with," I said, digging
into my salad. "But, really, it's so sweet to have you come here and beg
me to do it."
He ate some more, ignoring me. I could see the relief on his face, over
his whole body. He'd answered his biological imperative to save his
children, just like any female would. We didn't talk for the rest of the
meal, but when I helped him up he turned to me and said, "when?"
"Tonight," I answered.
He turned and waddled out the way he'd come in. I watched him, grinning.
And then I began to think. What was going to happen when he had the
babies? Would I still kill him? Raise the babies myself? It would be
fitting, since he'd cost me not only my own child, but even the ability
to bear children. And yet, was I really ready to be a mother?
That night I went home and found the clay doll I'd made, the voodoo doll
I'd first used to impregnate him. The belly and the breasts on the doll
were huge, just like his had become in real life, but the rest was
unchanged. I lit my candles. Drawing a magic circle. Stripping down and
purifying myself, I performed the chants and incantations necessary to
unseal the doll, to make it malleable so I could reshape his flesh. Then,
with a quick spell that would ensure he was sleeping, I picked up an X-
acto knife and held the glittering blade just centimeters from the small
penis on the doll, dangling ridiculously beneath his swollen belly. I
drew circles in the air around his penis, and let the knife hang there,
enjoying the thrill of power and revenge surging through me, and then
with one quick motion I sliced it off, smearing it across the table with
my thumb.
I then formed the vagina I'd made him beg me for. Miss Kevin Jones,
welcome to your new life. From stud to mommy in nine months.
I'd been thinking about it all day, and I had really come to feel that I
wanted the babies to be born, not just to screw with his head, with his
identity, but because they were mine, really, as much as his. Twins. I
was about to be the mother/father of twins, and it filled me with a sense
of accomplishment and longing.
Finished, I went online and ordered a dozen roses to be delivered to his
house the next day. The card would read, "Good luck with the delivery,
Miss Jones."
The next day my phone rang. I answered. "Hello?" It was Kevin's voice,
but a half octave higher.
"Hi, Kevi."
"I just called," he said. "To say?. I want to say thanks. Again. Your
spell worked."
"I never thought that I would get a call from Kevin Jones thanking me for
cutting his dick off, but you're welcome," I said.
I heard him sniffle. "Why do you have to be so mean?" He blurted, and
then hung up the phone.
I guess I had really fucked with his head, or both of his heads. Well, I
thought, he had it coming. But as the day went on, and I thought about it
more and more, I started to feel guilty. Hadn't he suffered enough? Given
up enough? Hadn't I brought him to his knees, made him beg and then thank
me for making him a woman?
And besides, I thought. He's the mother of my children.
That night I did some more work on the doll. It was my way of making it
up to him. I resculpted his hips, making them into wide, round birthing
hips. It would make the delivery easier on him and, it would lessen the
risk of complications to our children. Finally, reluctantly, I removed
the part of the spell that had made his pregnancy his own secret burden.
I called him the next day. "Hi, Kevin," I said.
"Oh," he said warily. "Hi."
"How are you?"
"Fine. I noticed that you changed me again last night."
"It'll make it easier for you to have the babies, Kev."
"Oh. Okay. I hadn't thought of that."
"I won't make any other changes without asking you."
"You can do what you want to me," he answered in a matter of fact tone.
"Just please don't do anything that will hurt our babies."
"I won't. In fact, I took off the part of the spell that keeps the babies
a secret."
"Really?" he said in surprise.
"Yeah. Get to a doctor and have him check you out. But I want something
in return."
"What?"
"I want to be there when the babies are born."
"Of course," he said. "You are their father for all practical purposes.
And, I am counting on you to raise them after? well, after I am gone."
It was a week later that Kevin went into labor. I had been in a meeting
at work, and by the time I rushed to the hospital, the nurse told me that
the babies had already been born. "Can I see them?" I asked, expecting to
be sent to that glass window where you looked at the room full of babies,
but she smiled and said, "Sure. They're with their mother now. It's just
down the hall."
I sauntered down the hall and peaked in the door. Kevin was on his back,
smiling blissfully, making little cooing noises while breastfeeding one
of his babies. A nurse was holding the other one. One blue hat and one
pink hat. A girl and a boy. I stepped into the room, holding a bouquet in
front of me. "Congratulations!" I squealed.
"Thanks!" Kevin said, glancing down with some small embarrassment at his
full, white breast and the baby at his nipple, but then the embarrassment
cleared and he smiled.
"She's beautiful," I said, gently stroking the little baby's soft tuft of
brown hair.
"They are two healthy, bouncing babies," the nurse said, turning so I
could look at the little boy.
"May I hold him?" I said, looking to Kevin for permission.
"Of course," Kevin answered.
I took the little boy into my arms and held him to me own chest, feeling
him so warm and soft, a little bundle in my arms, and I looked at his
little face, the tightly closed eyes, and I fell in love. He was
beautiful. They were both beautiful.
Once Kevin was done feeding the babies, he wiped off his nipple and
pulled the bed sheet up over his breasts to his armpits. I sat on the
edge of the bed and looked down at him, the mother of my children. And I
realized that I didn't hate him anymore.
Kevin closed his eyes and sighed. "I can't tell you how much this all
meant to me. To be able to bring those babies into the world, to hold
them in my arms, to feel them at my breasts. I know I don't deserve this
happiness, not after the way I lived, the way I treated you, and I
appreciate your generosity, your willingness to let me give birth to our
babies. It's more than I would have done in your place."
"You really were an asshole," I said, wondering if this feminine sounded
female was really the same man, and knowing, looking at his face, at
those same green eyes, that he wasn't the same. The whole thing had
changed him.
"I have one more favor to ask of you."
"Okay."
"Please kill me now. I know I deserve it. But now that I've seen them,
held them, I can't bear even another moment alive, knowing that I'll
never get to see them grow up. Please kill me. I'm ready."
I laughed and smoothed the hair back from his forehead. "Kevin," I said.
"I am not going to kill you. I can't? couldn't. Not after seeing you with
our babies, feeding them, loving them. The babies need their mother."
Kevin's face brightened.
"But there is one thing."
"Yes, anything."
"You have to live the rest of your life as a woman. And I mean as a
woman. Clothes. Make-up. The whole thing. That's the price I am asking of
you."
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
He had no idea what he was agreeing to, how hard it was going to be for
him, but I knew he would have agreed no matter what I asked. A mother is
used to making sacrifices for her babies, after all, no matter how
drastic.
Yvette
- 18.01.2022
- 17
- 0
