Delayed Pt. 7

Here it is! The last part of Delayed, though I am considering doing a brief epilogue. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see a little more of Peter's tale.

Delayed Revisited


Part Seven



“Peter..?” Mike said following the burly officer’s declaration of his arrest. “What’re they talking about?”

“It’s a… a mistake! A misunder… standing!” Peter wheezed out just before another contraction hit, leaving him groaning as he clutched at what he could of his now quaking orb.

“A misunderstanding?” The midhusband repeated, sounding less than convinced.

Peter fervently nodded. “Richard… My ex… husband,” he said through clenched teeth. “He took me to court for… nevermind! It doesn’t matter! I… He said everything was… nnngggh!!!” He groaned, his current contraction slightly more intense than his last. “Fine! He's a… lawyer, he should know!”

“Well maybe you should call him?” Mike suggested, raising his brows as he looked anxiously between the two officers, both of whom had just been standing there staring at Peter after pronouncing him under arrest.

The burlier of the two snapped out of his trance, but only after blinking hard several times in a row. “No call till you've been booked in jail,” he shook his head.

“Jail?!” The laboring content creator wailed. “But my case was, nnngggh!!!” He groaned again, louder than the last time he had. “Dismissed!”

“Not according to the information I have,” the officer replied as his eyes traveled up, down and all around Peter's mostly bared body.

“But it was!” Peter insisted as his latest contraction thankfully began to peter off.

“Not according to the information I have,” “Burly” repeated. “You'll have to take it up with the judge when you're brought back before them, which will happen sometime after you've been booked in jail,” he explained as suddenly, he roughly nudged his skinnier partner with his closest elbow.

“Skinny” startled. He shook his head several times before fumbling around on his belt. It took a few seconds but eventually, he found what he was groping around for: a pair of handcuffs.

They had to be kidding… They weren't seriously about to arrest Peter when he was FINALLY in labor, rapidly approaching giving birth for the first time?!

“I'm in labor!” He desperately but obviously, needlessly pointed out. “I… Oh God!” He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt yet another contraction starting to build within his distended core. “Look at me! I… I can't! I…”

“Do not resist…” Burly warned.

“Resist?!” Peter groaned out as the contraction hit. He felt it forcing the babies lower, especially the lowest. “I'm just… trying to… FINALLY have these… babies!” He huffed as he opened his eyes, his pained and crazed gaze landing on Mike.

The midhusband had gone from looking shocked and confused, to looking panicked. Obviously, Peter needed some help and guidance, and to be tended to in general, but for mainly legal reasons, now didn't seem to be the time?!

Mike's eyes darted about the room as he tried to figure out his best course of action… It only took a few seconds before he (smartly) came to his conclusion.

“I'm sorry, Peter…” he started. “But for… various reasons, I can't be involved with this…” he paused. “Situation, anymore,” he shook his head. “This isn't what I signed up for!” He huffed as he shook it some more. “I have to go. Excuse me, officers,” he said as he carefully squeezed between the pair so he could start collecting his things.

“Please, Mike!” The laboring twenty-eight year old begged. “Help me! Do something?!”

“I'll get you fees refunded as soon as I can, minus my travel expenses and…”

“Screw the fees!” Peter wailed. “I need help!”

He could've saved his breath because that went without saying…

Mike closed his eyes and sighed. This was a nightmare, not only for him, but potentially, Daddies’ ‘R Us as well. “The Internet's Sexiest” midhusband had his company and his own reputations to worry about, so as much as he needed/wanted to book it out of this shitshow as soon as possible, leaving a very pregnant and average man alone, while he was in active labor, probably wasn't the best look for either, so…

“Officers…” he said as he turned to address them. “Obviously, Mr. Pryce needs medical attention… I'm a certified midhusband, and it's my medical opinion that transporting him at this time would be…”

“Mr. Pryce will be seen by the jail medic as soon as he's booked,” Burly curtly cut him off.

“There's a good chance Mr. Pryce might start having his babies before he gets to jail, let alone before he's booked!”

“Well then, would you like to make the trip with him?” Burly asked Mike with raised brows.

“No, thank you,” he declined as politely as possible.

“Seriously, Mike?!” Peter groaned.

“I'm sorry, Peter,” he said again before turning back to continue speaking with Burly and Skinny. “I'd like my medical recommendation to be officially noted,” he requested.

“Which is..?” Burly asked.

“Which is, that since you insist on transporting Mr. Pryce at this time, he be taken directly to the nearest hospital. A jail medic will not be able to adequately handle a situation like…”

“Consider your recommendation officially noted, but Mr. Pryce will first be taken to the nearest jail, where the jail medic, adequate or otherwise, will assess his condition and give their own recommendation,” Burly replied before asking, “Anything else, Mike?”

The midhusband turned to look back at Peter, whose belly chose that moment to contract again. He truly felt bad, but he just couldn't jeopardize everything he'd worked so hard for, so it was time to cut ties rather than umbilical cords. But first…

“Can I help him put on something a… little more suitable?” He asked after some brief hesitation.

“Please!” Burly grunted. “But make it quick!”

“I'll be as quick as I can,” Mike promised before turning to Peter again. “What…”

“The dresser. Just grab… whatever,” Peter vaguely waved before turning his attention to the camera aimed at him, which was still rolling.

“Sorry, everyone… Something's obviously come up,” he informed his viewers with a chuckle that was as anxious as it was pained. “But stay tuned!” He nodded as he forced himself to smile (or at least try to.) “We'll get this sorted out and I'll…” he paused. “I'll be back!” He nodded some more. “With or without Mike!” He concluded with a roll of his eyes.


*****


Without getting Peter out of bed and without bothering to take his cami or jockstrap off, Mike managed to work a poorly fitting t-shirt onto the actively laboring content creator. He also managed to work a pair of shorts as high up his wide spread legs as he could, leaving Burly and Skinny to finish the rest of the job.

As soon as he'd gotten Peter as “dressed” as he could, the midhusband hurried about the room, gathering his things.

“Good luck, Peter!” He called over his shoulder as he all but ran out of the room.

A few moments later, Peter heard the front door open and then shut. Mike was gone, leaving him alone with the police officers, his confused and concerned viewers, and the triplets now trying to force their way out of him at an expedited rate thanks to the herbal tonic.

Again, Burly nudged Skinny, who startled and then came over to the left side of the bed to try and get Peter up. He couldn't, though with much effort and several grunts, he managed to briefly get the laboring man leaned forward enough to cuff his hands behind his back.

“You CAN'T be serious?!” Peter wailed as he collapsed back against the pillows and now also his arms and hands. “I'm in labor!” He moaned as his massive belly heaved and jumped.

For the next several seconds, Skinny and Burly went back to silently staring at his still mostly exposed pregnancy. Eventually, Burly cleared his throat as he once again shook himself from his stupor.

“We'll have you seen by the medic as soon as you've been booked,” he promised again, sounding like he needed to convince himself of what he had to do next.

Peter's legs felt like they were made of jelly as he was dragged to his swollen feet by the officers, both of whom groaned to either bloated side as they strained to support his ungainly mass. Peter's heaving pregnancy looked and felt like a boulder as his volleyball-sized breasts wobbled and bobbled atop it.

The clothes Mike had hastily stuffed him into barely contained him… The t-shirt left over half his belly out in the open, and even after Skinny had pulled the shorts up as high as he could, they still left the top third of Peter's pregnancy-fattened ass exposed. Even though his belly wasn't fully exposed, every heave, quake and lurch it made as he was slowly led through the house and then outside to the cruiser the officers had arrived in, was visible.

“Oh, God!” Peter cried as he was led down the driveway. “They're coming! Now!” He moaned as he nearly collapsed, causing Skinny and Burly both to groan as they took on even more of his weight.

“Yeah, yeah…” Burly grunted out as he opened the back door of the cruiser. “Get in!”

That, needless to say, was easier said than done… Peter could hardly move under his own power, let alone get himself into the backseat of a sedan. The officers had to both more than help get him crammed into the back of the cruiser but they managed, if just barely.

Peter tried and failed to get into a position that didn't make him feel like he was about to explode. His belly and breasts all bulged out over and in front of him since he was too scared to fully sit on his ass. The pressure inside him was surging downward now, and it felt like the first baby to be born was already in position, its overgrown head wedged painfully between Peter's spread legs and widened hips.

This can't actually be happening, can it?! He asked himself as he huffed and puffed. I can't give birth in jail or at the hospital! I put SO MUCH into dragging this damn pregnancy out! Too much! I HAVE to give birth on the livestream and get the rest of the money!

“Mmmmmnnnnh…” he moaned. “Ugh… You don't know… what you're doing!” He groaned as he felt his next contraction starting to build.

Burly, who was driving, remained focused on the road, but Skinny was watching Peter intently through the rearview mirror. The laboring twenty-eight year old glared back at him as sweat dripped from his brow down his increasingly red face.

“You're ruining… everything!” He groaned, his huge belly suddenly heaving and jerking as his next contraction hit.

The force of it caused him to painfully arch his back. Milk started to seep first through the camisole, then into his shirt to the point that all of a sudden, it was dripping through.

“Anything that's been ruined is your own fault,” Burly said as he continued driving towards the station. “There are consequences for breaking the law.”

“But my case was… dismissed!” Peter cried again, this time through his tightly clenched teeth as he fought hard against the urge to start pushing as milk continued gushing from his breasts.

Burly let out a small huff as he shrugged. He either didn't believe Peter, or he simply didn't care. Whatever the case, it didn't make a difference.

Quickly, Peter's ill-fitting t-shirt became totally saturated with sweat and milk. With nowhere else to go, wide rivers of warm creaminess began running down his belly and dripping onto the cruiser's seat before making its way to the floorboard. Skinny was still staring at him, his gaze transitioning to something more lecherous and nefarious, but Peter was too scared, worried, uncomfortable and otherwise preoccupied to notice.

Even after his most recent contraction ended, he experienced no relief. The pressure inside the twenty-eight year old's hot, sweaty, bloated and overloaded body, continued to increase as he tried again to adjust his position, but he didn't have the space or energy to do so. The front of Peter's heaving, bulbous abdomen was just a couple of inches from touching the plastic partition between the front and backseat of the cruiser, making him look (and feel) all the more massive. Even though his pregnancy wasn't contracting at the moment, the urge/need to push was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Oh, God… Oh, no!” Peter moaned as he felt a familiar sensation he'd been hoping to avoid a little longer.

His insides churned as a small and squeaky hiss of air suddenly popped from between his ass cheeks, echoing off the vinyl beneath him. Having been in labor many times before, Peter knew quite well when his water was about to break. That time had just about come again…

“Quit that, will ya?!” Burly barked at Peter over his continued, inadvertent release of air. “A fart can and will be considered assault against an officer!”

“I can't!” Peter wailed. “I… My… My.. I… You need to pull over, NOW!”

Burly grunted as he looked back in the mirror. “I ain't pullin’...”

“My water!”

“You can have all the water you want when we get to the…”

“No! MY WATER!”

“Your water? What water!”

Peter opened his mouth to explain to the idiot what “water” he was referring to, but instead of words, a hoarse groan came from between his lips as simultaneously, a large, loud and wet sounding fart came from between his ass cheeks.

“Jesus Christ!” Burly grimaced. “What did I just tell you?!” He yelled. “Are you TRYING to get on my…”

He didn't get to finish what he was yelling when all of a sudden, there was a loud bang. Somehow, Peter managed to work his feet off the floor and slammed them against the partition, splitting his shorts up the middle in the back in the process. No sooner were they in place when a tidal wave of amniotic fluid started shooting out of Peter's ass.

Burly thought they'd come under attack?! He ducked as he drove, suddenly swerving trying to evade the presumed attacker, but the “shots” kept coming…

“What the…”

“Holy shit!” Skinny yelled as he stared back in the rearview mirror in disbelief as Peter continued to spray his side of the partition with the force of a pressure hose. “His water! It's HIS water! It just broke! I mean it's… it's BREAKING!”

“YOU GOTTA BE SHITTING ME!” Burly shouted as he slammed his right palm against the top of the steering wheel. “GOD DAMN IT! WE JUST GOT THE CRUISER BACK FROM GETTING CLEANED AFTER THAT DRUNK PUKED HIS GUTS OUT!”

“I… told you… to… pull over…” Peter grunted and panted out as his flow very suddenly stopped. He knew exactly why…

The lowest baby's head had descended further, blocking the remaining gallons of fluid he still contained. If history was any indicator, Peter was rapidly running out of time… Previously, once his water broke, he was pushing within minutes. Fifteen at most…

Not that he and everyone else hadn't been expecting them to, but it was more clear than ever now that the babies were coming.

“Please… no…” Peter groaned as he let his head flop back against the back of the seat. “No…”


*****


He was all but dragged into the station, now totally unable to move on his own. It was obvious that Burly was furious with Peter for having once again trashed the back of his precious cruiser. If he thought the drunk puking his guts out all over it had been bad (which he had,) the massively pregnant content creator's (first) water breaking in it had easily been ten times worse.

As Peter, the triplets, and Burly and Skinny all staggered into the booking area, officers and perps alike, all turned and then froze to gawk. Everyone seemed to forget why they were there and what they were doing, even the clerk Skinny and Burly dragged Peter over to once it was their turn to get him checked in.

“Peter… Pryce…” Burly announced, himself now breathing quite heavily.

The clerk just sat there and stared. Not at him, but at Peter, of course.

“Come on!” Burly barked. “He needs to be seen by the medic ASAP!”

“The medic?!” The clerk repeated. “He needs to be at the hospital, man! What the…”

“Just book him!” Burly yelled as Peter sagged a little more at his already straining side.

“Oh God… Oh God!” He moaned as he suddenly folded forward over his belly and breasts, but somehow, Burly and Skinny managed to keep him on his swollen feet.

“I… I'm calling the Captain!” The clerk said as he reached for the phone. “This… this isn't right!” He shook his head as he dialed.

“Nnnnnnghh… Gaaaahhh!” Peter groaned.

“OH SHUT UP ALREADY, WILL YOU?!” Burly turned and screamed at him. “YOU'RE HAVIN’ SOME BABIES… BIG FUCKIN’ DEAL!” He bellowed before turning and redirecting his fury at the clerk. “NOW ARE YOU GONNA DO YOUR DAMN JOB OR NOT?!”

“UNLIKE YOU, I AM DOING MY JOB!” The clerk shouted back before dipping his chin and speaking into the phone, “Captain! Yes… I need you back at the station, STAT! We have a…” he hesitated. “A situation with an intake that requires your…” he paused again to listen. “No, he's not been booked yet, but… OK, sir. Yes, I… But… Alright, fine,” he sighed before hanging up the phone and shaking his head in dismay.

“Well..?” Burly asked, brows raised high as they would go on his tightly scrunched and now very red face.

“The Captain's out on a call right now, but he's coming back and…”

“Just fuckin’ book him!”

“I will…” the clerk said as he shook his head, all while still staring at Peter. “But something tells me, you're gonna regret this…” he warned Burly.


*****


Even though the booking clerk seemed to be on Peter's side, the overall process was long and tedious… All throughout its progression, Peter was hardly cognizant of where he was anymore. His face was flushed and sweaty, tears pouring down his cheeks, snot running from his nose as his booking photos were taken.

All the while, the contractions got stronger and closer together. Every time his belly clenched, it pushed the babies a little lower.

“Hooooo! Haaaaaah!” Peter panted through the pain, trying desperately not to push.

He wriggled his cuffed hands lower and clutched at his ass. Already, his cheeks had started to spread as the first baby tried to crown from the force of the contractions and all the pressure alone. If Peter so much as sneezed or coughed, he was sure the baby would just shoot out! He couldn't give birth now! He had to get back home and back to the livestream, but how?!

“Nrrrrgggggh…” he groaned as he let Skinny and Burly fully support him as they waited to be told which cell to bring him to.

When his destination was finally determined, the officers started dragging him off. As they did, Skinny's hands wandered. They explored and rubbed Peter's heaving, sweaty swell, but no one else seemed to notice and he was in too much pain to complain.

All three of them grunted as he was slowly and awkwardly lowered to a bench. Peter slumped way back against the wall, afraid to fully sit on his ass and further increase the pressure there. He squirmed, groaned and panted as Burly and Skinny left the cell, slamming and locking the door behind them.

In his periphery, he saw the blurry image of other prisoners and officers looking at him. Peter squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to focus on breathing through all the pressure and pain and willing himself not to push.


*****


Peter didn’t know how long he was left alone whining and rocking, while utterly and truly straining to keep the triplets inside, but it felt like forever. Though he’d been given a cell to himself, all eyes remained on him, perps and officers alike, all compelled to stare at the troubling sight of the laboring, barely dressed man. The most pregnant man any of them had ever seen. Many made a mental note to wear a condom the next time they fucked someone, because fuck…

When he heard the door to the cell being unlocked, Peter opened his eyes and looked up. Two men he hadn’t seen before entered, deep in quiet conversation with each other, as Burly and Skinny followed behind. As soon as this new officer looked from the other man dressed in scrubs and saw Peter, he stopped dead in his tracks. Aside from Peter’s labored breaths, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Mr. Pryce…” he said after double checking his paperwork. “My name is Captain Johnson. I, um… I…” he fumbled before clearing his throat. “I was called by booking to come down and, uh… Access the situation, and determine if you should’ve been brought here or taken directly to the hospital,” he explained as he suddenly looked down at the ground, instead of still at Peter, who suddenly wailed.

“I’M IN LABOR!!!”

The medic quickly stepped forward then stopped, like he was afraid to touch Peter. “Captain, I…” he shook his head. “He shouldn't be here! I can't handle this! He…”

The captain wheeled around and immediately started in on Burly and Skinny. “What the hell were you two idiots thinking bringing him here like this?! This is a liability!” He shouted. “A literally HUGE liability!” He screamed as he looked over at Peter again.

Burly and Skinny remained silent. Peter on the other hand, did not. He released a loud, low and long groan that caused everyone who wasn't already to stare at him.

“We need to get him out of here before he blows,” Captain Johnson said.

“Looks like it's too late for that,” the medic noted as he nodded towards what he could see of Peter's ruined, soaked shorts.

“Radio EMS right away,” the captain told Burly, teeth clenched tightly in obvious frustration. “Then you two, meet me in my office,” he said before turning back to Peter. “My apologies, Mr. Pryce. We'll get this situation rectified as soon as possible. You have my word,” he nodded.

“He's gonna have a hell of a lot more than that when I'm through with you!”

Everyone, Peter included, turned and looked at the door.

Richard strode into the cell, followed by another officer who looked like he'd been trying to stop him. “Sir, I…” he began to explain to the captain, who held up his hand, effectively cutting him off.

“Who are you?” He asked Richard.

“Mr. Pryce's husband and attorney. Those are my babies you and your department are putting at risk!” Richard shouted. Now obviously wasn't the time to get into specifics.

“Sir, I…”

“Why was he arrested anyway?” Richard asked as he hurried over to Peter's side. “The case was dismissed!”

“I'm sorry, sir,” Captain Johnson tried again. “But…”

“Save it!” A now seething Richard cut him off as he worked himself under Peter's closest arm. “Come on, Pete… Let's go.”

Eager as Peter was to get the hell out of there, that was easier said than done. Working around Richard, he planted his hands on the bench as his feet fumbled beneath him, trying to find leverage. Peter braced himself to stand but then his next powerful contraction hit, making him collapse against Richard.

His hole burned as his cheeks began to part more. The first triplet was already crowning…

“Mr. Pryce!” The medic shouted. “The head is…”

“I know!” Peter screamed as he hugged what he could of his massive middle, willing the babies to stay put as his entire body trembled in protest.

“Sir…” the medic said to Richard. “I think we need to do this here, right now!” He stressed.

“EMS are on the way,” Burly sheepishly announced. “Five minutes out.”

“Cancel the call,” Richard said, glaring at him. “I'm taking him to the hospital.”

Peter fervently shook his head, sending sweat and spittle flying. “No…” he rasped. “Take me… home.”

Richard hesitated. “Pete, I…”

“Please!”

He sighed. “OK, fine. Let's go.”


*****


Richard was strong. He did the majority of the work in getting Peter up. Once he was standing, the laboring twenty-eight year old slowly proceeded out of the cell at a very awkward waddle. Somehow, Richard worked his jacket off and tucked it into the waistband of his ex's ruined shorts, covering his butt.

Peter's belly was still out on full display. Though they were technically covered, his breasts were also fully visible as his shirt and the camisole underneath had both been rendered completely transparent from all his sweating and leaking. Peter's nipples bulged out against the thin material as they continued to gush, now more than ever since he was moving.

As Richard and Peter exited the station, whatever they were doing, people stopped to gawk. There were more mutters and gasps as they slowly made it out to the parking lot, Peter moaning, groaning and panting the whole time, feeling like he was about to either drop dead or start dropping babies right then and there.

“Ohmygod, Peter?!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted from off to the left.

It was Brad and he was running. He came to an abrupt stop beside the other two (plus) men, leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs as he fought to catch his breath. Peter and Richard did not stop…

“I came as… soon as I could!” Brad huffed out.

“That's great. Now are you… gonna help or not?” Richard grunted out.

Brad nodded as he quickly straightened back up. It didn't take him long to catch up as Peter and Richard hadn't made it much further.

“Here you go, babe,” he said as he gently took Peter's left hand from his belly and worked himself under his arm as he raised it to shoulder height.

Richard glared at him behind Peter's dipped head. Babe? Now, after you all but abandoned him? He internally seethed, but now wasn't the time for any more drama.

Peter let out a blubbering sigh as some of the incredible weight was taken off his legs. Brad grunted as he took it.

“So what's the… plan?” He asked as they continued to slowly progress through the parking lot, and Richard hadn't even parked that far away.

“We're going to the… hospital,” Richard replied as Peter moaned loudly again.

Not that they all didn't, but now that it was rapidly (relatively speaking, anyway) descending, the lowest triplet felt particularly huge. Peter's contractions were coming almost back to back now so between them and all the waddling he was doing, he could hardly breathe. If ever it was more evident he needed to go to the hospital, it was at that moment, but no. He wasn't going to allow it. Not after everything.

“Home…” he panted. “Not… hospital,” he shook his head between the two men fully supporting them, one of whose babies were close to blasting right out of him.

“We're taking him… home,” Richard reluctantly amended.

He knew why Peter wanted/needed to go home but he wasn't sure whether or not Brad did? As such, Richard fully expected there to be some (justifiable) kickback, but there wasn't. Instead, Brad simply replied,

“Home it is!”

Instantly, Richard found that odd. He didn't know a whole lot about the younger man other than his ex-husband seemed to run all over him, so maybe Brad was just agreeable? Or maybe he just had the good sense to know better than to argue at a time like now? Either way, Richard didn't say anything. Not yet, anyway…

“Jesus, Rich… ard! Where the… hell did you… park?!” Peter panted out.

“Right… here,” his ex-husband grunted back as he fumbled in his pocket with his free hand for his keys to open his minivan's closest sliding door.

They were almost there… Just twenty or so more feet and then Peter would finally be off his. He could do this. He had to…

Ten feet away from Richard's van, another contraction hit, more painful than the last. Peter howled in agony as his knees gave out, Richard and Brad both stumbling and struggling to keep him somewhat upright. Milk gushed from Peter's tits as his chin got lost between them.

“Gaaaaaahh!!!” He wailed as he clenched his butt as best he could, trying (seemingly in vain) to keep the lowest triplet from descending any further.

“Come on, babe… You got this!” Brad encouraged him.

Since he knew no one was paying any attention to him, Richard threw his head back, shook it and rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn't about to let Brad outdo him, so he said, “Almost there, Pete… You can do it!”

“No, I… CAAAAAAN'T!!!” Peter vehemently disagreed in the form of another wail.

At that moment, it didn't matter that he was only ten feet away from his ride home… He could've been ten miles from it and it wouldn't have made a difference because he still needed to make his way home, which would take at least several more minutes, and it felt like he'd be lucky if he could last several more seconds before he just gave up, squatted down, and started pushing.

“I… I need to…” he huffed and puffed. “I'm just gonna… nnngggh!” He groaned. “Just gonna start… push…”

“You can't, Pete!” Richard stressed, his voice even but firm, leaving no room for questioning. “You know why…”

“Richard!” Brad scoffed. “If he…”

“NO!” Peter and Richard cut him off in loud unison.

“He's… right,” Peter quietly panted as thankfully, his latest contraction began to subside. “I can't… push yet,” he shook his head before letting out a grunt and sending as much of his waning strength to his legs as he could. “I have to… get home.”

“But…”

“HOME, BRAD!”

“OK…”

“Hurry!” Peter pleaded as he took a painfully small and awkward step forward, having somehow mustered the energy to actually pull his “helpers” along, if only for just a single step.

Just a little longer… Peter silently willed himself. I've already made it this far…


*****


It seemed to him like it took five more minutes to make it the rest of the way to the van, but in reality, it only took a fraction of the time. Getting him turned around so he could back into the van was another story though… It did take several minutes and a lot of help from Richard and Brad to get Peter into his seat after his ex-husband hastily removed the carseat from it, during which time he experienced another awful contraction.

Once Peter was seated, Richard hurried over to the front seat and moved it forward as far as it would go. After he had, he and Brad helped Peter, who was nearly delirious from the pain by then, brace his feet against it. Richard raced around to the driver's seat and Brad around to the other captain's chair in the middle row and sat on/in the booster seat there.

The minivan's engine hummed to life and Richard sped forward out of the spot. They were finally on the way back to the house, but Peter didn't know if he'd still have all three of the babies inside him by the time they got there?

“Oh God, Richard… I can't! I have to…”

“Hold on, Pete,” Richard said as he tore out of the parking lot just as an ambulance was tearing into it, lights flashing.

That's precisely what he'd been doing ever since Burly and Skinny had arrived and screwed everything up! Peter grunted and groaned his way through another contraction, the urge to push nearly impossible to ignore. He yelped as he felt the head starting to crown shudder lower, maybe just a fraction of an inch, but still…

Peter reached down under his raised and spread thighs and cupped the bulge between his cheeks as tears and sweat poured down his cheeks.

“Haaaaaah!!! Haaaaaaahhh!!!” He panted, struggling to breathe.

“We're almost there, babe,” Brad announced as he reached over and took Peter's other hand.

It went without saying that he and Brad still weren't on good terms… As such, Peter shouldn't have let him hold his hand, but he ended up being very glad he did when another contraction hit and instantly, the baby's head jutted forward and out of his hole by at least an inch this time, causing him to throw his own head back and scream.

As his pained, high-pitched scream echoed through the van, Peter squeezed the utter shit out of his (ex?) boyfriend/maybe babies’ daddy's hand, determined to send as much of his pain and pressure as he could there. Yes, Peter had done most of this to himself, but someone deserved to experience a fraction of his agony. Sorry, Brad (but not really…)

“We're here,” Richard said as he eased the minivan to a stop in his former driveway, then hastily threw it into park.

It was only then Peter realized they'd made it home. Now, he had to get inside…

The one part of his body he wanted/needed to feel: his legs, had gone totally numb during the ride. The one part of his body he didn't want to feel: his hole, remained on fire. Combined, this made Peter's extraction process and then waddling to and into the house all the more awkward and excruciating.

He had to stop every few steps, gripping tightly onto Richard and Brad for support with his locked elbows, while now using both hands to cup his ass, trying to hold everything in and together for just a few moments longer. Somehow, Peter still couldn't believe how large the baby's head was… He alternated between worrying about giving birth off-camera, to worrying about the first baby ending up stuck, unable to proceed due to its massive size.

“T-thank you for… coming to… get me,” he panted out to Richard as he hobbled inside.

In the foyer, he brought their motley crew to a halt again as he endured another contraction, a long groan gurgling up his throat. Peter's sweat and milk were both dripping down onto the floor.

“Of course,” Richard replied as he gently rubbed his back.

“How did you… even know I got… arrested?” Peter asked as he started to hobble forward again. The office was just down the hall, and now was not the time to stop.

Richard grunted as he threw Brad a wary look over his ex-husband's slumped shoulders. “How do you think?” He quietly asked.

Peter grunted back, then he grunted again as they reached the door to the office and Richard entered first, momentarily leaving him without his support. As a result, Brad took the brunt of his weight, causing Peter to turn and look at him as he slowly, carefully and awkwardly proceeded back through the now seemingly very narrow frame.

“What about… you?” He asked, frowning some, and not from his discomfort and exhaustion, rather the realization that something was amiss…

Did Brad know about his online career? His livestreams?

Brad ignored the question and instead replied, “Let's get you onto the bed, babe…”

The bed… That's where Peter needed to be. It was so close and yet still so far away, so he focused on getting there instead of asking his question again.

“Wait…” Peter croaked out after he'd been turned, just before “his men” were about to help ease him back onto the bed he was about to ruin. “Take… everything off me… please,” he requested.

“Everything?” Brad asked, not sounding surprised, rather excited.

“Everything…” the laboring content creator confirmed with a weak nod.

“Are you sure about that?” Richard asked.

Peter nodded again. “I'm soaked and burning up. I…”

“He really is, Richard,” Brad nodded as well.

Richard didn't lose often (professionally, anyway) but he knew when he was beat, so he nodded, then he and Brad set to stripping Peter. Two contractions later,they finally got the heavily laboring content creator onto the bed and into position.

“My… computer…” Peter wheezed out to Brad. “Make sure the… camera's still… run… nnngggh! Oooh!” He groaned as his belly rolled and contracted, the baby crowning more without him having pushed even once.

“I don't think that's necessary,” his maybe baby daddy replied with a shake of his head.

“Damn it, Brad!” Peter groaned.

He didn't know how to explain everything to him? He didn't have the energy…

“Please! Just… do it!” He wined through another contraction.

All of a sudden, the baby's head fully emerged from his hole. Peter screamed as he was stretched painfully wide. At least he'd gotten the first head out (without even pushing) but he still wasn't sure if the livestream was on?!

Brad took in a slow, deep breath as he stared between Peter's legs. When he spoke next, he didn't sound like himself… He sounded very calm and articulate compared to his usually blasé demeanor.

“My payment should be more than enough to cover things without the additional funding of the livestream,” he said. “And honestly, I'd prefer a relatively private show,” he shrugged as he looked at Richard and gave a slight frown.

Peter didn't understand? He was straining, already trying to push out the first baby's shoulders even though his belly wasn't contracting at the moment. He screamed again when the next one hit though, unable to hold back any longer. Only when it ended and he quieted back down to gasp for breath did Brad speak again.

“I guess it's about time I tell you…” he said nonchalantly, still intently staring between Peter's legs. “I'm not a stock boy at the grocery store,” he shook his head. “I own it. I own the whole chain.”

Eyes clouded with tears, sweat and confusion, Peter looked out over his heaving breasts and belly at Brad before turning to Richard, who looked equally confused, as well as more than a little concerned.

“I… I d-don't understand?”

“It's simple really,” Brad shrugged. “You thinking I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed made things easier…” he continued with a smirk. “I planned out everything I could… I added hormones, various oils and fats to all your food. When I found out you were having triplets, I almost lost my mind! I'm your biggest fan, after all,” he nodded and grinned.

Both Richard and Peter looked utterly shocked and horrified. For a few moments, they forgot the latter was in labor as they tried to process what Brad was saying.

“I've watched you online since the beginning,” he continued. “I knew one day, I had to have you for myself and finally, I did, but then Richard came back into the picture,” Brad glared at the attorney. “I'll be disappointed if I wasn't the one who knocked you up, but maybe we can try again if I didn't?” He shrugged.

Peter sobbed as it all came together. “You're TryAndMakeYouBlow?!”

Brad nodded.

“You paid for Peter to do this?” Richard asked.

Brad nodded again. “I have a check for the nine million right here,” he said as he patted his front right pocket.

The fact that Brad was TryAndMakeYouBlow wasn't a good thing. It made the situation all the more weird and creepy, but Peter didn't have time to contemplate it any further. With another hoarse groan, he gave his first push, the result, instantaneous.

“Richard…” he moaned. “Catch the…”

“Outta the way!” Richard said as he hurried around Brad and took his place between Peter's legs right as the rest of the first triplet practically blasted out of him.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Brad asked as he walked over and sat down next to the computer. “Just two more to go,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and did just what he'd intended to: enjoy the rest of the show.