At eleven years old the brain starts to understand complexity, to see nuance.  Hate sex for instance is something that would be hard to explain to a child.   Yet I experienced it. Being trapped in that house with my grandmother. She and the thing inside here were my daily sexual partners. My unborn sister-daughter had become just as much a part of all this horribleness. 

I remember watching cartoons one morning.  She never let me watch anything educational except for documentaries on pregnancy.

“I’m close!” She said. I was sitting cross legged watching the TV. I could hear her breathing heavily behind me. The hormones had made her even more sexual than before.  She would regularly run vibrators in both of her holes while cooking or sitting on the couch. It became my job to clean up after her orgasms when she would spill on the carpet.

When she told me she was close. I understood what she wanted.  With as much passion as doing a chore I knelt down in front of her. She lifted her belly for me. Her breathing labored as she exposed her engorged vagina.   I saw her swollen clit. I started sucking. Fellating that almond shaped nub. I would take the time to slide my hand inside her. Pushing past the two or three bullet vibes she always had stuffed in there.  I felt a clench and stopped. There was no use trying to move when that strong pussy of hers was bearing down on me.  

I kept sucking on her clit.  My hand was deep. It felt incredibly warm inside where I had stopped. I was afraid of going deeper.  But she pushed me. All the way until my hand was up against her womb.  I could feel it kicking inside.  Responding to such a close intruder. Its heart-beat went through my fingers. I could feel both of them. Her pulse from her body, my daughter’s pulse through her gestation chamber. 

“You know. If you really wanted to. You could kill it.”  She said in a teasing, low tone. The idea surprised and horrified me. I tried to pull my arm out but she let her belly slide down. I felt the full weight of it pushing on me.

	“Ah, Ow!” I said as she allowed more of her weight to press on me. My son and my grandmother’s combined weight held me down. My arm still in her past the elbow.

“Hnnng you should expect more of this kid….From now on you're my personal clit sucker.” I had already been controlled by her. But this was the first time I truly felt like she held the ability to say I was a person or not. To treat me like an object or not. She pushed my arm out and let me up. I caught my breath.  I don’t think she understood just how heavy a woman late in her pregnancy can be.

She wasn’t done with me. She sat me up and we sat on the floor.  My arm was soaked but she just stroked it softly. Letting me dry it by dragging it along her belly.  The veins were intense. The modifications that were made to her showed a deep complexity of muscles, veins and flesh. She had become something wholly different than the woman who had raped me nightly several months ago. 

	We made our way to the doctor room. I had expected we would fuck on the exam table again. Her plans were made apparent when she took a small black bottle down from a shelf. She poured it into two cups. Looking at me with a smile. 

	“Its time to celebrate” She said. Handing me the glass. I looked down at it.  But she encouraged me to drink. It was unexpectedly sweet and it traveled down my throat like honey.  It was my first time being drugged. 

	She motioned for me to get onto the doctor’s exam chair. She brought the stirrups in and hooked my feet in.   It was strange. Being trapped in a huge chair.  Feeling my knees held uncomfortably apart.  She was fondling my belly and cock while I laid there motionless. The drink’s sweetness had gone, leaving a long sour sting in my mouth.  She moved closer until her belly was between my legs.  That massive shallow curve with a bulbous central knot. When she breathed it rose up slowly. Gaining mass before retreating back as she exhaled.  

	She pushed forward. I could feel my cock jabbing into her stomach. It drove a few angry kicks from the baby but she just pressed harder.  Both of us got  used to it.  She parted her lips to lick along my forehead with her tongue. I heard a sudden rapid clack as she pushed her bullet vibrators out. Letting them hit the floor before turning off.  

	I think around the time she kissed me was when my body had really started to metabolize what she had given me. It made my toes curl and my mouth felt warm and hot. My stomach churned but kept it down. I was too busy hoping my grandmother wouldn’t crush me with her weight. Instead she braced one hand on the exam table and brought the other to my side. Her touch felt cold and hot. Her belly seemed inescapable for myself and my son. 

“Too heavy! Too heavy!” I remember her saying as she shifted. Moving to let my cock slip into her moist folds. Her stomach’s weight was now entirely on me. It reached from my chest down to my thighs.  It was slick with sweat and oils and skin conditioners.  The worst though was the heart beat. It felt as if I could trace every vein keeping the chamber healthy and functioning.  Her strained, milk-filled breasts made sure all I could see was a small triangle of light above and her twisted grin looking down at me. I could never quite become numb to the smell of decaying milk on oily skin. 

I started thinking about her as my brain started to drift.  Strange thoughts of ownership and dependence. I started to feel like her body was almost welcoming.  This mass added to hers that was hers until it could escape.   I knew my cock was too small. My brain somehow wanted me to be able to fuck her. To impregnate the fetus before it had been born.  I suppose my grandmother got what she wanted as these thoughts made my hips buck wildly as I grasped for her wide thighs. Trying to find some degree of stability.

The rolling of her hips smoothed out my thrusts.  Allowing me to drift back to my thoughts. Its hard to picture a family at the age of 11.  I would imagine multiples of me coming out of my grandmother.  Imagine girls coming out and breeding with them. Wondering if babies could get pregnant too.   I struggled to keep my thoughts straight as her thighs and gravid belly crushed atop me. Forcing me against the meager cushioning of the table. 

Every time I felt semen coming out it was a coarse mix of pain and pleasure.  When she finally reached a point of exhaustion and slowed down I tried to gather myself.  Every part of me was sticky or slimy with her. I had begun to lustfully grasp her nipples during our love making and for it I had become soaked in fresh milk.  The taste was on our tongues as she started to kiss me.  Smiling at me. I didn’t realize I’d shot so much inside again.  The pink-ish strands of blood mixed into the seed spilling out of her worried me but she assured me she was fine.  I climbed out of the chair and held her. 

It took a great deal of my strength to support the massive woman as she moved to the toilet.  She looked at me with exhausted pride.  Urging me over to let her fondle my penis like a trophy.  Rubbing it between her breasts and along her neck. Stroking my cheek. She could see I was still shaky from what she had given me.   I suppose that's why she led me to the shower.  Giving me the “gift” of washing her whale-like flanks and all the places her arms couldn’t reach.  But at least we were both clean.    

We moved to the bedroom. I stood as she braced herself on me. Shifting her weight until it fell into her shallow indent. 

“You okay? That spanish fly didn’t fuck you too hard did it?” She said. I had no idea what she meant but I assumed it had to do with the drink she gave me.

“It was kinda nasty and made my head feel weird.” I told the truth. Exhausted so much that even as she flopped my flaccid equine cock around I didn’t show much reaction. 

“You’ll get used to it. Especially when its time to make another baby.” She waited for my reaction. I think she could tell the moment I realized that the family she intended was far larger than just one or two children.   It made her grin as she traced her fingers along her stretch marks. 

“See. I’ve been getting you used to my special concoctions. Do you know what fertility drugs are?”  This was one of the few times during the early years she addressed me with some respect.  Speaking softly as I shook my head no.

“Well…babies don’t always happen when boys and girls screw.” As she spoke I had become hard again.  A tingling, painful warmth that was soothed by her soft touch.

“But lucky. People like me know how to mix certain pills. See kid, I don’t just want a baby.” She waited for me to acknowledge her, too look into her eyes before going back to her huge breasts and that pulsing, heavy belly.

	“I want one that will grow inside me, stretch inside me.  I want to feel its mass confined and frustrated by me. Feel it’s heart beat rapidly as it feels its home shrinking by the day.”  She had begun to divulge her fantasies to me.  I felt a fear and a strange discomforting passion as she spoke. 

	I understood that she was telling the truth. I had a feeling for weeks that something was strange. She was always ahead of the projected sizes from the books she made me read.  Now it’d become clear.  She had managed to work a small painful orgasm out of me.  Licked my cock clean and then continued.

	“I’ve never pushed one this far before.   I was always scared too. Scared it would destroy my body.” She opened up to me in a way that felt oddly more discomforting than all the sexual things she’d done.

	“But now I want to try. You and your child are going to help me.”  She seemed to feel this was somehow romantic as she leaned in. Kissing me. Rolling so the weight of her stomach was once again on me. I started suckling on those heavy bratwurst-thick nipples. In hindsight I should’ve realized how laced with hormones and fertility drugs her milk was. 

The night was full of strange and chaotic dreams.  Dreams of being raped by giant amazons.  Dreams of being trapped in a jail that was also a womb.  I dreamed about having a vagina and my grandmother sliding baby after baby inside of me. Somehow making me more pregnant than her. I would wake up terrified and then quickly be smothered by her.  Comforted by my jailer. 

While I had thought I had only one more month of this it soon became clear to me that her pregnancy was following its own chemically course correction.   Only my unborn daughter knew when she would attempt her escape. Until then all we could do was watch her grow.