Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12518208.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Relationship:
      OMC/OMC, Original_Male_Character/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Anal_Fingering, Anal_Fisting, Anal_Plug, Anal_Gaping, Oviposition,
      Bondage, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Rape, Underage_Rape/Non-con, Medical
      Kink, Medical_Inaccuracies, Medical_Torture, Mental_Coercion, Emotional
      Manipulation, Mild_Stockholme_Syndrome, Mind_Games, Non-Consensual_Drug
      Use, Unsafe_Sex, Chains, Boys_in_Chains, Superheroes, People_Have_Powers,
      Mpreg, or_-_Freeform, Eggpreg, Magic?????, Prostate_Massage,
      Overstimulation, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Sexual_Abuse, Sexual_Violence
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-27 Chapters: 1/2 Words: 4303
****** have mercy ******
by changelings
Summary
     This is a world of superheroes. People with powers were so common
     though, that superhero groups were usually just communities of family
     and friends. Enemies were rare and it was a fun volunteer community
     service group.
     James 'Jamie' Atteberry, a young superhero teenager with the power of
     invincibility, is innocent and carefree. He likes helping people...
     and he is completely and utterly unprepared for Doctor Desmond Doran,
     a scientist looking for a body to use as a host for his experiments.
     Jamie is stolen and broken into so many little pieces. His friends
     will not make it in time, three months too late to stop his attacker
     from impregnating him with eggs of inhuman origins. His friends fight
     to get to his side, while Jamie fights to birth the eggs, alone in
     the cell he has been repeatedly raped in for the past three months.
Notes
     wow, holy shit. i have never written anything porny in my life. i
     just blasted this out bc that tumblr blog, distendedbellies, inspires
     me so much and i finally found them again. also i am so sorry bc this
     is nearly a full year late and it's not even done. i have the second
     chapter to write (and boyyyyy am i gonna write the fuck outta that)
     distendedbellies, i was the anon who said they would write you that
     ideal mpreg fic almost a year ago. i failed at that. um. this
     includes a lot of my kinks, most notable fisting. the birthing scene
     is in the next chapter. it's not the ideal but it is my first ever
     porn fic so... here you go
Doctor Desmond Doran enters the cell, eyes seeking out his target without
delay. The door clangs closed behind him, heavy metal colliding loudly, and the
naked boy in the corner wakes with a start, skinny legs twitching and a whimper
already escaping him. His arms, up above him, was the only thing holding him
up, chained to the wall.
"Hello Jamie," the doctor says, ignoring the boy's open fear. He bustles
around, readying the examination table and the equipment he was going to use
for today's session, turning on the multitude of cameras. Jamie watches him
with wary eyes ringed with dark bruises. "You look tired, Jamie. They haven't
stop wiggling, have they? Poor thing. I'm going to help you with that Jamie.
Don't you want me to help you?" Doran liked this part, pretending to care and
making Jamie respond.
Jamie stares at him, his face full of blank fear where before it had been
burning hatred every time Doran had asked him if he wanted help. Doran recalled
when Jamie tried to hide his nakedness, pulling his legs close to his body and
how he used to hide his face, not looking at him. Now about three months in,
Jamie was battered and out of his mind with the constant pain and terror and he
does none of that. Doran waits patiently. Sweet little Jamie, he was too tired
to fight anymore. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jamie nods, barely able to do so with
the thick collar around his neck.
Doran smiles so widely at him. "I'm so glad you're settling in. Let's get
started."
Oh, he has so many plans. When he'd first caught James Atteberry, a young teen
in the town's Superhero Group, it had been difficult to choose just one plan.
He'd dallied for a day, having fun wreaking havoc on Jamie's unprepared body
with whims and impulse ideas. Jamie had been so energetic back then, thrashing
and kicking and yelling demands. He hadn't quieted down at all throughout the
session, saying over and over that his friends would come rescue him, would
find him and that Doran would be sorry, so stop! Jamie hadn't stopped yelling
even when Doran had fucked into him hard, making the table where he was tied
down rattle and move across the floor. As much as he enjoyed the helpless boy's
useless shouts, it got quite annoying.
Finally, he found something that shut him up. The face he'd made when Doran had
shoved his fist into him was a treasure, lovingly captured by the cameras that
documented his every session with him. Sometimes, Doran watched the recording
over and over, entranced by how his face contorted and went blank at the same
time, eyes impossibly wide. As much fun as that had been, however, Doran had
solidified a plan the next day. It was perfect, it was long and drawn-out.
Doctor Doran had had the machine in the cell and Jamie in the table with
stirrups holding his legs wide open that next morning. Jamie was still loose
from the fisting and other object insertions from the day before and leaking
out lubricant so Doran hadn't bother with stretching him again. Jamie had been
begging, sobbing, pleading for Doran to let him go, to stop, to not touch him.
Poor Jamie. So used to his power, his invincibility, keeping him from hurting
that the pain began to shatter him so fast. Doran took special pleasure in
knowing that. The collar, the thick black collar that stiffly held Jamie's neck
perfectly straight, suppressed that power, allowed him to feel pain and
everything that Doran did to his body. A wonder of Doran's own genius. He'd
picked Jamie because his power would keep him alive during Doran's ordeals onto
him, even with it suppressed like it was. There was a reason behind everything.
The machine was an experimental one, filled with some even more experimental
prototypes. He'd delighted in telling Jamie that, watching that boy turn white
in utter fear. Straining against the straps of the table, Jamie had been
wailing like a banshee, writhing and tensing up too much for Doran to properly
enjoy sliding the machine's nozzle into him. Doran had nearly gagged him but
figured that the boy would somehow manage to choke on it. Instead, he'd grabbed
his speculum, forcing Jamie open over a too short period of time, as evidenced
by Jamie's renewed screechings and gasps. There was only a little bit of
tearing. It wasn't serious enough to make him stop. The nozzle was shoved in
posthaste and Jamie keened, trying to escape the tube being slid into his
insides. It hurts, it hurts, please, it hurts so much. What are you doing to
me-
The tube went in and in and in and in and Jamie had gurgled, eyes white. Doran
stopped feeding it into him, stepped back to enjoy the sight before him for a
moment, then flicked the switch on the machine. Immediately, the green liquid
inside of it spilled into the transparent tube and Doran watched it as it
filled quickly, glowing a soft minty light, and he knew exactly when the liquid
inside escaped the nozzle inside of Jamie because Jamie gasped liked he was
burning and then writhed with renewed fear, more tears falling from his eyes. A
little bit of fight in him reignited, possibly by the sudden burning sensation
in his organs, because he had screamed obscenities at Doran, snarling around
gasps for air. His friends would rescue him, he kept growling, then whimpering,
please, stop. Take it out, it burns, it burns, why are you doing this, please,
oh god please.
Doran had just enjoyed the sight, Jamie's small body spread out, pinned down,
red with arousal, all with the thick tube solidly inside him, the nozzle at the
end of it pumping out the gel. He could see a result already, that flat tummy
swelling out, a faint green glow emanating from it. Within the hour, Jamie's
belly was rounded like a water balloon and his protests had become more
desperate, his fear-addled mind unable to understand what was happening to his
body. He had understood even less when the first egg forced itself inside him.
Doran had quite enjoyed that part, watching that already torn rim expand even
more to let the egg in. Jamie's continuous stream of 'no' had quickly become
intoxicating, as was listening to him scream. Not gagging him was an excellent
decision.
The second egg was only a little bigger than the first but Jamie whimpered like
it was a basketball. Doran had touched Jamie's face then, brushing back sweaty
bangs, a rare show of kindness, for all that the boy didn't want it nor see it
that way. "Almost done, Jamie," he'd said, using that cute little name that
James Atteberry had only ever used with friends and family. Doran took that
little comfort, that nickname, and he twisted it and he smiled at the boy and
he destroyed any future comfort that James Atteberry could ever get from
hearing his nickname again.
Jamie's breath hitched and then he screamed, the third egg slipping in when his
muscles had relaxed out of pure shock. Doran hummed, taking his hand away. The
third egg had probably jostled the first two along, rubbing along the prostate
as it went. It was a little bigger than the second but not that much. It's too
full, too full, stop stop stop stop s t o p p l e a s e
Jamie had passed out after the sixth egg. Doran waited until the tenth to turn
off the machine. The tube came out with some difficulty and the nozzle felt
embedded but he pulled them out in the end. No gush of liquid followed it and
Doctor Doran grinned. His experiment was working then. The gel would harden,
protecting the new and incubating eggs inside the host. He tapped a hand on
Jamie's swollen tummy and had to restrain a grin at the taut surface, skin
bruised from the unforgiving stretch.
The hardness had lasted for a full month and a half, one very fun month and a
half, and it was only recently that it had begun to soften. Almost forty-five
days of feeling and seeing that hard belly get more supple, rounded where an
egg presses against the skin, jiggling when Doran shoved something hard and
fast into the boy's body. The eggs were now stable enough to not need a
protective shield. He had really enjoyed telling Jamie that. The poor boy
begged for them to be taken out, mindlessly pleading with his captor. At the
time, Doran had also been rubbing it, curling his hands over the curve of the
belly, feeling the heat radiate from inside it. Jamie had whimpered at his cold
hands, trying to twist away from them fruitlessly. It was his favorite
activity, as he often did it at the same he would fuck into the boy's limp
body. One thrust, hands splayed over the round surface, then pulling Jamie back
on his cock by his belly, making Jamie gasp from both the deep thrust and the
pressure on his belly, which made sparks of pain explode across it. The softer
it got, the more it hurt, which made Doran very happy when he gave Jamie's
belly a little shove and watched the boy howl.
The eggs had begun to move, keeping Jamie awake from the churning in his
stomach. Doran found the boy to be especially fun to tease like this, so weak
and exhausted, hardly able to squirm yet still just as affected by his touch.
Too much pressure of the wrong sort could rupture the eggs though, which leads
them to the present day.
Doctor Doran unlocks the shackles holding Jamie's arms and when they come
undone, Jamie falls, crying out as he does. Doran lets him, watching him curl
around his belly and start to cry as feeling returned to his arms. Even with
the extremely painful pins and needles, he still rubbed his numb hands on his
roiling tummy, desperate for relief. "Please..." the boy rasps around a sob.
The things inside him had been tumbling on what felt like his lungs and
breathing was so hard. "Take..."
"Up and at 'em, Jamie. I haven't got all day. You can still stand, can't you?"
Doran sticks his hands in his pockets, watching Jamie struggle to obey, to
stand on boneless legs, his belly hanging low as he leans forward, eyes
fluttering shut. Doran can't resist seeing that pretty face so messed up, he
grabs a handful of Jamie's hair and pulls, forcing Jamie forward too fast.
Jamie cries out, his legs buckling. Doran deigns to catch him this time, other
hand pulling the boy up, still staring at that face. He drinks in those eyes,
so broken, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His mouth is hanging
open, lips chapped and bitten, by Jamie himself or Doran. The dark circles
under his eyes had been there long before the eggs had started moving. The
black collar is a beautiful frame, staking Doran's claim. "Please... it hurts
so much... I... please please please..." Jamie whispers, completely and utterly
ruined. And Doran is responsible for it.
Doran smiles, taking to the boy into his arms in a mockery of a hug. Jamie
whimpers, from having Doran press into his sensitive belly, from the hands that
were squeezing his tender ass, from the bite that the doctor was delivering to
his ear. "Jamie," he says into the ear after releasing it.
The boy swallows with his dry throat, loud enough that Doran can hear it. He
says nothing. His arms are wrapped around Doran's shoulders, the only thing
holding him up. His feet are not touching the floor. He is helpless and he
knows it. Pressed against Doran, his belly is moving without pause and Jamie
bites his lip.
The doctor sinks his fingers into the boy's hole without warning, gleefully
hearing that choked noise that Jamie tries to bury. "Jamie, Jamie," he whispers
into the ear, his breath tickling and Jamie wants to scream at the shiver of
pure revulsion that zips down his spine. "Jamie, aren't you ready to get those
things out of you?"
Jamie freezes at those words, except that Doran jabs at his prostate seconds
later and Jamie couldn't hold back his moan, still stunned. Was it finally
over? The experiment, could he finally get the eggs out of him? "Yes," he
breathes.
Doran smiles against Jamie's collared neck, turning around to lay the heavily
pregnant boy on the table, slipping his fingers out of the hole as he did so.
He gets the boy's legs spread wide, held open by so many straps that his legs
look like a raccoon tail, then ties down his arms and then his chest. He's
feeling considerate, so he gives the boy a packet of water with a straw. Jamie
drinks it gratefully, going as fast as he could without choking, not knowing if
Doran would take it away before he was done. "You're almost ready to pop,
Jamie," the doctor says adoringly, running his free hand over the belly so
wonderfully displayed. "You're so close. You've done so well, I can't even
believe it. Jamie, you look so beautiful." Bruises from restraints litter his
body, bite-marks from when Doran got excited, hand and finger-shaped bruises
around his hips, all painting him in shades of purple, yellow, and green. His
belly is another story altogether, lumpy and outlined in stretch marks, skin
red and faintly glowing green from the things inside. It always served a cold
reminder to Jaime that the things inside him were not human.
Jamie had to close his eyes, trying to ignore the twisted praise. Trying to not
let it sink into his head. Trying to focus on the fact that it was almost done,
the eggs were almost out of him for good, he had a light at the end of the
tunnel when before it was neverending and indefinite. "When...? Get them...
out, out, out now..." The doctor's fingers on his stomach were almost
impersonal, with the gloves, but they were still so cold.
"Patience, Jamie. There's a lot in there after all. I have to get you ready or
you could tear." Not like that had ever bothered him before.
How many- how many, how many eggs were in him? Jamie still didn't know.
Sometimes, when they were still and quiet at night, he tried to count the lumps
on his belly. He counted five once and that was with at least two pressing down
on his organs so painfully he passed out. Doran liked to taunt him about how
many but never say how much.
Doran takes the water away, grabs a sponge from his tray of tools to be used
tonight. It's going to be an exciting night so getting Jamie clean would make
it even better. With a bucket of soapy water, he wipes away the grime that
comes with being chained to the floor, the dried semen on his thighs and
stomach, the lubricant stuck to every other part, sweat omnipresent. Jamie
shivers under his touch, not even trying to escape it. "Good boy, Jamie. You're
so good. Just going to clean your face now. Wash your hair a little, don't
move."
Jamie squeezes his eyes closed when the doctor wipes down his face, struggling
to think. Cleaning had happened only a few times so far, and not all that
recently, so while Jamie was really thankful to get the disgusting dried fluids
off him, he knew- he knew that Doran only did it when he had a 'fun idea' in
mind. As his hair is dampened and cleaned, Jamie tries to take comfort in the
fact that the eggs will soon be out of him. As if hearing that, the eggs slosh
and shift almost angrily in his stomach and his arms strain, trying to reach
down and rub it. They're pinned down though and he just bites his lip, a tear
escaping out of one eye.
Once all the niceties are sorted, Doctor Doran gets ready for his examination.
He switches out his gloves for clean ones, puts a face mask on, pulls the tray
of tools next to the stool that sits between Jamie's spread legs. The cameras
monitor Jamie's face, his belly, his hole. Doran begins by spreading Jamie
open, first with one finger then moving up to two in no time. Jamie always
takes him in so well. "Good, good. Stay still, Jamie."
Jamie throws his head back, not wanting to see Doran's face just avidly
watching his hole... well, his belly bump was too big for that, he couldn't see
that far over it. The third finger is shoved in and Jamie groans. Doran spreads
his fingers wide, hurrying the stretch along as fast as possible. Jamie's
thighs tense, shaking as he fights to not move. It hurts like it always does.
Doran always leaves enough time between fingerings and insertions that Jamie
tightens up almost like new. Doran liked breaking him in, he thinks.
Push, push, spread wide. A rhythm that opens the boy up and that Doran is very
familiar with. The doctor pulls his fingers out to get more lube and is
fascinated by the way that Jamie's hole has reddened, twitching and beginning
to gape. It never fully closes anymore but it's tight enough that Doran feels
like he has taken Jamie's virginity again. He uncorks the bottle of lube and
pours it on his hand, thoroughly getting it everywhere. He starts again, three
fingers, pushing the excess lube inside of the hole.
There is nothing that isn't bad here, in this cell, so any sense of intuition
for bad things to come is useless. Everything is bad. Regardless, something
tugs at Jamie and he feels a fresh fear. Why... why so much lube? "What are
you..." He has to catch his breath. "What- doing, what are you doing?" A camera
zooms in on his hole and another on his face.
"Jamie, it's okay. Relax," the doctor soothes. He adds in the fourth finger,
rotating his hand and reaching for the prostate to rub at it.
When that fourth finger went in, Jamie understands all at once. His blood turns
to ice. "NO!" he shrieks, adrenaline giving him the energy he didn't have,
thrashing to get away. No, no, not again, he can't have a fist up there again.
His fingers clench as he struggles to at least get his arms out. "Stop-" He
cuts himself off on an embarrassingly loud moan, voice wavering. His hips try
to buck. The rubbing makes his muscles turn to jelly. "Don't- you said..." he
lets out a wordless whine, dizzy with unrelenting waves of pleasure, thrashing
turning to writhing. "Get eggs... out. Don't put..." The things inside him
don't like how he moved and punish him by rolling over his stomach. Jamie gags,
but there's nothing in his stomach except water.
Doran patiently waited for Jamie to settle. He was surprised that the boy still
had energy enough to move like that. He keeps up his rubbing, watching as
Jamie's panic is melted away the longer that painful pleasure goes on,
overwhelming every other feeling. Poor boy's eyes are so glazed, even as he
gags, spitting out bile-scented water. The muscles around Doran's fingers go
lax, trembling. "Relax. Almost there. You're so close, Jamie." Doran tucks his
thumb in and pushes in, not stopping, even as Jamie bursts into wet tears.
Jamie hated fisting. He keeps crying, choking on sobs and trying to bring
enough air in to live. He's already so full, fit to burst and the doctor was
shoving his fist into him? He opens his mouth to breathe and finds himself just
wailing again, his body rejecting the fist inside him and Doran ignoring it.
Like when Doran had first put the eggs into him, before he knew how the next
three months of his life was going to be. His own screams echo back at him in
this tiny cell, bouncing off the hollow walls. Sweat pours down his face, his
belly, his thighs, and neck. The collar is too tight, he can't open his mouth
enough to breathe and wail at the same time.
What music Jamie's screams were. Like a sad prologue to a tragedy of a play,
only a small taste of the things to follow. Jamie had no idea what Doran's aim
was beside fisting him. The eggs would just stay inside him forever unless the
last barrier was taken down. He had lied to Jamie a little. The gel hardened,
yes, and then it softened by itself. But Jamie's hole was a vulnerable spot and
the gel was the eggs' protector. It had kept a barrier between the eggs and
Jamie's hole, blocking anything from coming up or leaving. Doran had to break
it to let Jamie birth the creatures and have his experimental results. "Doing
so good, Jamie. Doesn't it feel good? We're almost done."
The pregnant boy was so lucky that Doran was patient. There was a schedule and
the plan was working perfectly. The cameras zoom in and out, catching every
movement by either.
His fist rotates, pushing forward only an inch or so, eliciting a howl out of
Jamie. Doran's patience evaporated in an instant, a frown twisting his face. He
should've fisted the boy more often if he was so melodramatic about it.
Gripping Jamie's hip tight enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise, Doran pulls
his fist back, almost pulling out, then punches forward ruthlessly. He hits
something squishy and in his way and he goes right through it, burying his arm
halfway up to his elbow into Jamie's ass.
The sound that Jamie makes... Doran has never heard one like it before.
Guttural and ravaged, Jamie's mouth continues to make that sound for almost a
full minute, with Doran who froze out of shock with his fist still buried in
that ass. Jamie goes limp, sagging against his bonds like a doll tossed to the
floor. A camera peers at his face.
Doran blinks. "Perhaps a bit too rough," he says to himself. The cell is almost
eerily quiet, now that Jamie's sounds were gone. The only thing he can hear is
the squelching of Jamie's ass as he moves his fist around inside him, lube
dripping from the hole. It's quite obscene. Doran finds his passage into
Jamie's organs much easier now that the boy's passed out. He punches forward
again, seeking out the barrier keeping the eggs inside Jamie. It's deep inside,
hence why he never had to worry about accidentally puncturing the barrier when
he played with the boy for the last three months.
"Ready, Jamie?" he asks of the unconscious boy, his arm inside him up to the
elbow. In sleep, he seems so much more tired and young. Doran imagines him
awake, hears that lovely little chant of 'no's and he grins. "It's good that
you passed out, then. I can't imagine this feels good."
With one slimy and devastating punch, Doran breaks the barrier and something
bursts inside of Jamie.
His belly shakes and trembles, the eggs freed from the tightly packed gel. They
wanted to escape now! The soft gel leaks out around Doran's arm and he pulls
out before any of the eggs can dislodge enough to follow his hand. Seeing
Jamie's gaping hole, dripping out the green gel and clear lubricant, Doran
fights the urge to keep fist-fucking Jamie and takes the last of his tools from
the tray. A thick and ribbed plug, black in color and huge enough to fill any
gaping hole. He pushes it inside Jamie, the boy still thankfully out cold. The
plug fills him up, bright red rim stretched around it, and stops the tide of
liquids. And the eggs.
Doran has to grin. He takes off his gloves, tossing them aside. He lets Jamie's
legs out of the straps, unties his arms and unbuckles his torso. He picks Jamie
up bridal-style, using his forearm that was holding Jamie's legs to push the
plug in, making sure it didn't fall out. Doran kicks the table aside, lays
Jamie on the floor. The cameras on the table swivel around, still intent on
watching the subject. Jamie's prone body, skinny with a gargling belly
attached, looked like a horror film.
"I'll be going now, Jamie. You were so wonderful. Don't worry, I'm never really
going to leave you. I'll be watching you." Doctor Desmond Doran runs his hand
over Jamie's belly again longingly, pets his hair and kisses his pliant mouth.
Right on cue, the tiny cell trembles.
Doran looks up. "Oh, your friends are here. A little early too. Remember you
kept saying they'd come for you? I knew they would too. I had to make sure we
had enough time together though. They're early but certainly not early enough."
The three-month-old baby bump is evidence enough of that. "This cell moves
every single night. Sometimes we're underground, or atop a mountain on the
other side of the world. They couldn't track us if we were across the globe in
hours instead of days." He sighs. "You were so much fun."
The cell shakes again, more violently this time. They're closer now.
Desmond Doran stands up. He looks down at Jamie, a cruel smile curving his
lips. Jamie's body is ruined. James Atteberry will never forget Desmond Doran
and Jamie won't either. The doctor leaves the cell, hands in his pockets,
whistling a jolly tune. His cameras will watch the end of his experiment.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!