Don't Mess With Steve Ch. 2

(This brings the story up through former Chapter 5). Let me know what you think! 

Chapter Two

After another week of seriously intense overeating, Mark's belly was finally starting to get (and more importantly: stay) really pronounced. Whereas he'd had to push it out in order to achieve its full effect the day of the last shoot, now he'd added enough to his gut that it did so on its own. Now, as he dressed for his day job, Mark had to suck in and hold it to be able to get his shirt buttoned.

Once he had, next came the tie. After knotting it like normal, he let it drop and looked down to see it wrinkle and jut out over his growing launch. When he looked up into the mirror, Mark saw several inches of tightly stretched shirt below the tip of the tie, revealing the buttons it normally hid, each of which looked like they were seconds away from bursting off.

Mark was getting fat and by default, starting to look undeniably pregnant. His plan was working. While happy it was, he didn't like it, yet it had to be done. Steady ahead and keep on keeping eating. It would all be worth it when he got his life back and didn't have Steve's threat of exposure looming over him anymore.

After another one of his now epic breakfasts, he left his place early for a doctor's appointment. When his OB-GYN, Dr. West saw him, he was surprised by how much Mark had grown since his last visit. The pregnant man lied and said he'd been having a lot of cravings and hadn't been able to resist caving to them. After commenting on how strong they must've been, Dr. West reiterated the importance of proper, balanced nutrition while pregnant, after informing Mark that according to his just performed sonogram, he was having twins!

It went without saying that Mark was surprised by this. Twins was one more unplanned baby than he'd been planning on, but he quickly got over his shock. It was another challenge to deal with, but he was still happy. Immediately following his appointment, Mark stopped and grabbed a dozen donuts on the way to the office. He had his new belly at full (literal) force by 9 AM. As he headed for the kitchenette at work for a cup of decaf coffee, one of his work buddies stopped him in the hall and gently jabbed him in the side.

'Kinda nice to see that even the mighty Mark porks up when he gets pregnant!" He teased.

At some point, Mark had put all his faith in his shirt's buttons and stopped sucking in his gut. As he was poked and teased, he quickly did so again but then almost just as quickly relaxed, feeling his belly press back out against each and every button. His plan was working!

After taking the physical and verbal jabbing from his colleague, Mark decided to make an alteration (which he'd also have to do to his wardrobe soon) to his plan. While the results of his efforts were starting to show, he decided he needed to step them up to ensure he got himself out of his predicament once and for all. He had to make damn sure he got his belly as big as he could, as fast as he could. Once Steve kicked him to the curb, he'd ease up on the eating and get back to the gym but for now, in order to ramp things up, Mark needed time. Time off, so he took his coffee and headed for his boss's office to plead his case to take a sudden "vacation."

So long as he was able to convince her to let him use it, Mark had three weeks of paid time off available, which would work out perfectly. If his vacation was granted, he could use every second he had to stuff himself before the next shoot, and even start coming up with some sort of "crash" diet that would be safe for him and the babies. Halfway there, Mark's belly was noticed and subsequently poked and commented about again.

"Better ease up on those donuts, Mark!" The cute little twink said with a wink. "You might be pregnant, but you don't wanna be left with a dad bod after, stud!" He said with a final poke before continuing on.

Something in Mark's already seriously tight pants rubbed, increasing their squeeze. He'd popped a boner when his belly was noticed, commented on and poked again. Weird…

His boss was surprised but much to his relief, she granted his last-minute request. She even let him go home early so he could start "packing," which in a way, he was going to, except it would be his stomach with food rather than a suitcase with clothes… On his way home, Mark stopped at the store and bought another massive haul, groaning to himself as he inserted his credit card. All this food was getting to be really expensive but again, it would all be worth it in the end. He was sure of it.

A pregnant man on a mission, Mark took his already impressive binge eating to another level. He became the pizza delivery guy's best friend and was rapidly racking up customer loyalty points at the store, which he hit pretty much every day to restock on more belly-busting food he'd go home and gorge on till he couldn't move. Mark lived in previously loose sweats and once baggy t-shirts, all of which were getting tighter, to say nothing of his more (usual) form-fitting wardrobe.

He spent most of his time in front of the TV so he could try and distract himself from how uncomfortably full and bloated he constantly felt. He ate and ate and ate till he simply couldn't eat anymore and collapsed back on the couch, belly bulging up and out in front of him, tight as a drum as it slowly but steadily grew. Often, Mark fell into food comas, his stomach so packed the rest of his body practically shut down as it struggled to digest the pounds and pounds of food he kept forcing into it.

The days blurred together, always full of food, acquiring more of it, or sleeping while it digested. Before Mark knew it, the big day had arrived.

***

As he approached the back door of the studio, Mark was once again too distracted to notice the hunky security guard eyeing him up and down (and all around) as he lumbered by. This time, it was Steve's shouts that got his attention.

"Where the hell is that asshole?! We're already half an hour behind! If he doesn't show up soon, he's gonna learn the hard way that I wasn't messing around! Someone call him! NOW!!!"

Mark came to a slow stop in front of the door and smiled. This was it. Per Steve's threat, he'd shown up, albeit a half hour late, but what did that matter now? The sleazy, power-hungry director was about to find out he wouldn't be making the film he had planned. Not with its star looking the way he did now… Mark's smile grew as he reached out and opened the door, knowing this time that freedom lay behind it.

Everyone inside was flying around in reaction to Steve's yelling. As soon as they saw him, they all jolted to a stop. Jaws dropped.

Mark had worked hard to positively squeeze himself into a pair of jeans that'd been tight on him to start with. He'd had to leave the top two buttons undone before moving on to stuff his long, now bulging torso into a white tank that'd been a size too small back at his starting weight of 235 lbs. Now, it was so tight it was practically see-through. The nearly translucent fabric highlighted his nipples and the tank's hem left a couple inches of belly exposed, held in place by its widest point.

As it had during his "first try," almost every pound Mark had packed on had gone to his belly, though some had gone to his ass as well, and in a new development, his pecs. His chest was still big and muscular, but also softer now due to all the workouts he'd missed and all the fat that had accumulated there. Mark's goal had been to hit 275 lbs by today, but his eating had gotten so fierce that when the nearly overburdened scale calculated his mass that morning, it did so at 286 lbs, meaning he'd already reached how much he was supposed to weigh at the end of his pregnancy.

As he'd been watching fattened-up, undeniably nearly due looking self get ready in the mirror, Mark knew he'd done it. That being said, despite his intense and deliberate efforts, he still couldn't believe how much weight he'd put on! As he looked at himself, the crotch of his overstuffed jeans bulged from his erection.

Eyeing his lowest bulge, Mark thought about it for a second and realized he hadn't jerked off in over a week, he'd been so focused and determined. As he left to debut his belly, in a (very) weird way, he was disappointed he wouldn't get to shoot today, but only because of the sex. He promised himself he'd take care of neglected "business" when he got home but for now, there he stood at the studio he was about to no longer work at, bloated body on (fully clothed, well, sort of) display, for all to see.

Unsurprisingly, an obviously shocked and equally furious Steve, was the first to say something, which he did at a shout. "What the fuck happened to you?!" He demanded. "I saw you what, a month ago, and it looks like you grew a whole fucking watermelon since then?!"

"Yeah… Well I guess I kinda gave in a little to the cravings?" Mark shrugged, trying his best not to smirk.

"A LITTLE?! You look like you've been pregnant for A YEAR! God damn it! FUCK!!!" Steve fumed. "Go… go to the dressing room. I gotta figure out what the hell I'm gonna do about this?!" He shouted as he stormed by, smacking Mark's bulging belly right beneath his navel as he did.

The pregnant porn star was surprised he hadn't been sent kicking rocks the moment he'd been seen. Really, he was shocked. Still, Mark did as shouted and smugly sauntered towards the dressing room, reminding himself as he went that he still needed Steve to fire him. That was key. If the director needed a few more minutes to come to terms with the fact his (formerly) most popular star was now too fat and pregnant to be in any more of his films, then so be it.

It ended up taking more than a few minutes. Mark was left alone for nearly half an hour, during which he heard Steve's muffled shouts and a lot of scampering and scurrying around coming from the other side of the door. Still, he smiled as he leaned back in his chair, belly just about filling his lap. He grabbed hold of either side of the large ball attached to his still otherwise muscled torso, and gently shook it, silently thanking the babies and fat and food-filled mass.

As he continued to wait, Mark started trying to come up with a new gym routine he could start maybe even today? He didn't know what he'd be capable of now, but he'd figure out something that would hopefully help him shed at least some of the necessary, unnecessary weight he'd gained so much of, so fast. He was still typing ideas into the Notes app on his phone, when there was a knock on the dressing room door.

A moment later, it opened inward, first just revealing the handsome face of a guy named Bobby he'd seen around the studio but had never had the pleasure of penetrating (or being penetrated by) with his cock or tongue. After a second of Mark just staring, Bobby opened the door wider, filling the frame as he stood there.

"I, uh… Um, I…" he stuttered. "Steve told me to tell you to put this on," he said as he held out a hanger, on which hung blue lycra football pants and a matching jersey Mark had worn once before. "You should probably hurry… He's kinda wild."

Mark was too shocked to reply for several seconds. All he could do was repeatedly look from Bobby, who was about his age and almost had his now former build, down to his big belly and then back again.

"What..?" He slowly, eventually asked. "You… you can't be serious?!" He shook his head as he continued alternating his gaze. "He actually wants me to shoot looking like this?! You gotta be kidding me, Bobby?!"

His fellow, beefy (but not pregnant) pornstar shrugged. "I honestly have no idea what's going on… All I know is Steve made a bunch of calls and then sent everyone but you, me and him home," he shrugged again. "He told me to make sure you get out there. Wearing this," he waved the hanger, causing the jersey to flutter.

"What? Wear it home?" Mark huffed as he awkwardly got to his feet.

"Pretty sure that's not what he meant…"

"Yeah? Well fuck him! I'm out!" He said as he tugged at his tank, even more of his belly having revealed itself as he stood. "Can you get out of the way, please?"

"Come on, Mark…" Bobby sighed as he stayed square in the doorframe. "I think you should just…"

"Just what? Make that asshole even more money than I already have?! No fuckin' thank you! I'm done!" Mark shouted this time.

"He told everyone about outing you and we all think he'll go through with it if you don't…"

"Keep doin' what he says?!"

"Basically," Bobby nodded. "It's fucked up. No one else is here 'cause they have to be," he shook his head. "I don't think you should be any different, but what I think doesn't count. What does though is me keeping this job, so please," he said as he tried to hand the uniform over again. "At least just get dressed and go see what he wants now."

"No fucking way!" Mark shouted again.

"I think if you humor him one more time, things will…"

"Never change! It'll keep being 'one more time!'"

"Maybe?" Bobby admitted. "Like I said, I dunno what the hell Steve has in mind now, but please, just do this so I don't get my ass canned too, OK?"

Wanting to lose his job was one thing, causing someone else to lose theirs in the process was another, so with a big, long, exasperated sigh, Mark finally took the hanger from Bobby, who seemed just as surprised (and equally relieved) that he'd taken it without further incident or delay. Steve was obviously out of his damn mind, but just needed to see for himself how ridiculous Mark would look in front of the camera so there, in front of Bobby, he started stripping out of his street clothes as fast as his bloated body allowed.

Shimmying his thicker thighs and wider hips, he first worked himself into the jockstrap that'd been hidden under the jersey. Next, Mark wriggled himself into the stretchy but tight bottoms, letting them snap around his waist just above the strap of the jock. Finally, he grabbed the jersey from where he'd tossed it on the chair he'd been waiting on and pulled it on. Since it was an actual jersey, meant to be worn by big men, over pads, it hardly highlighted his recent gains the way his tank top had, though it still somewhat hugged the pregnancy-fattened (and moreso, fattened in general) stud. The disbelieving looks Bobby gave Mark's new physique as he changed were many and quite obvious, but still went unnoticed by the furious pregnant man.

"There, I'm ready," Mark said after working his feet back into the sneakers he'd worn to the studio.

This time, when he approached the other man, Bobby got out of the way to let him pass. Mark stormed out of the dressing room and headed for the set with surprising speed given his size, forcing Bobby to rush around and guide him in the right direction.

"What?" Mark asked as his arm was tugged on.

"We're not using the main set anymore," Bobby replied.

"Why not?"

"Not sure," he shook his head. "But Steve said to bring you to Set 3."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was still a part of Mark that was used to being treated (most of the time, anyway) as Steve's most popular star, and this part of him couldn't help but be offended. "Only the newbies shoot on Set 3!" He scoffed. "It's small, the lighting sucks, and…" he huffed. "It's so fucking far from… everything else! What does this… asshole have in… mind?" He panted as he headed for the set he hadn't been on in a long time.

"I really don't know," Bobby shook his head as he followed behind. "But I…"

Before he could finish, Mark stormed into the comparatively small room known as Set 3, gut swaying side to side as he headed directly for Steve. The space had hastily been set up to look like a small doctor's office, a set Mark recognized from his early days when he'd played what else but a football player, whose physical exam became a little "too friendly."

The room was centered by a large exam bed, with an old school scale tucked off in the corner, and some medical devices sitting on a nearby counter.  Before the pissed off, pregnant pornstar got a chance to say anything, Steve started in on him.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, or what the fuck you're trying to pull…" he said. "But I'm only going to tell you this once…"

"There's only one thing I need to hear from you now, Steve, and that's…"

"You can do as I say and get your fat, pregnant ass on this table right now," Steve cut him off as he pointed to the bed. "Or I can make you. Your choice."

Mark was incredulous. He simply couldn't believe that after all he'd done to himself: all the binging, overeating and not working out, that Steve still wanted to shoot?!

"My choice is, I'm done! Look at me, man!" He gestured down and around his belly for emphasis.

"I can't not!" The director scoffed. "You practically have a gravitational pull now! So what's it gonna be..? The easy way, or the hard? Your choice. Last time it's offered…" he warned as he pointed to the table again.

Seeing as he'd come this far, Mark reasoned there was no point in backing down now. Steve was simply calling his bluff in what would prove for him to be a failed, last ditch effort to get one more flick out of him. One he wasn't going to make, no matter what.

Or so Mark still thought…

"Tell me somethin', Steve… How the hell do you plan on working a pregnant jock into a film..?" He asked. "I mean, yeah… A lot… most of your storylines are pretty stupid!" He huffed. "But this one would get you and I laughed outta the business, 'cause no one wants to…"

"You're right about you, but me..? No…" Steve shook his head. "Don't think I don't know what you did and why… You thought that gut of yours would get you off my roster! Which it eventually would have, but now… Amendments have been made."

"Amendments?" Mark rolled his eyes. "To what?"

"Everything, thanks to you. It's a gamble, I'll admit, but one I'm willing to take," the director shrugged.

"What're you…"

"I thought about making you get on a treadmill till you waddled your now fat ass back to something closer to a desirable shape…" he continued. "But then I'm happy to say, I came up with a better idea."

Not realizing he was pushing what very little luck he had left, the indignant, pregnant pornstar continued his tirade. "Fuckin' give it up, man! You got your money's worth outta me! Go move onto some other schmuck!"

Steve remained silent for several seconds after being yelled at. Totally silent. After an almost uncomfortable amount of time had passed without him reacting, Bobby and Mark both waiting for him to, both for different reasons, he gave a small shrug.

"Hard way it is then," he said quietly. "Guys…"

In an instant, Mark was being grabbed by either arm. He looked to his right and found Bobby securing him on that side. The fucked was in on it! Mark turned to his left and saw the big, African American security guard from the lot doing the same there.

"What the fuck?!" He shouted as he was dragged over to the table, then using their combined strength, the guy's hefted his bloated, flailing body up onto it. "Get off me! Let me go!" He yelled.

Despite thrashing all his still big and strong (but increasingly buried beneath fat and/or babies) muscles, Mark quickly found himself losing the battle. Working on either side of him, Bobby and the guard soon had his hands strapped down to the sides of the table. After making sure they were secure, they moved down and started doing the same with his ankles after getting his thick, flailing legs under control. Now sweating and panting hard from the struggle, Mark closed his eyes in shock and disbelief,  which Steve took as his opportunity to get up close (now that he could) and reveal his new plan…

"First, let me remind you, it didn't have to be this way, you pregnant son of a bitch… Just remember, you chose this, not me," he said, his voice low and dripping with contempt as he slowly shook his head.

"Get. Me. Off. This. Thing. Right. Now!" Mark demanded through clenched teeth as he tested his restraints, finding them not only holding tight, but allowing little if any movement.

Unsurprisingly, the director ignored the request. "If you thought growing yourself into some ball-bellied, pregnant ex-jock was gonna be your ticket to freedom, I'm here to tell you otherwise," he smirked down at him. "I'll admit it though… It was a good shot and had me stumped for a minute," he chuckled. "But then I realized what you did, opened up a whole new market for me. One I haven't bothered catering to, anyway," he shrugged again. "Till now…"

"What the… fuck are you… talking about?" Mark panted, still trying to free himself but making no progress.

"Just because you and admittedly, I till quite recently, didn't think guys would go for men with huge, pregnant bellies, does mean they don't," Steve shook his head. "We might've assumed they only go for big, buff, muscled jocks, but we were wrong, and since you decided you needed ro make me figure that out by growing yourself a huge, pregnant belly so quickly, I decided to take your career in that direction!"

"I…" Mark started but before he got anything out, there was a loud knock on the back door.

"Delivery!" A shout came from the other side of it.

Realizing this might be his one and only chance of getting help, the pregnant man opened his mouth to scream for it, but before anything came out of it, the guard was there and clapped his big hand over it.

"Thank you, Darnell," Steve commended before reaching into his pocket and turning to Bobby. "Here," he said to him as he handed over a large wad of cash. "Go pay the guy, bring the stuff in and then go get changed."

"Yes, sir," Bobby said as he did as instructed.

Since he couldn't turn his head with his mouth being pressed down on so firmly, Mark turned his eyes and saw Bobby open the door, hand some delivery guy who couldn't see him thanks to the large stack of boxes piled high on a cart he was pushing, the wad of cash and then take the cart. Bobby backed it in through the door, then closed and locked it before wheeling it closer.

Mark saw the writing on each of the sides of the many boxes and saw they were from the place the studio sometimes ordered catering from. He started to panic. This could NOT be happening…

Steve easily read his mind. "That's right, preggo… Since there's a world of guys out there who like their pregnant jocks to have nice, big and round bellies, full of babies and food, you're about to become the newest star of their… interestingly but now for me, conveniently themed genre!"

"But…"

"Hurry up and go get changed, Bobby!" Steve said as he turned and headed for the camera set up facing the bed. "You can let go now, Darnell," he told the guard before quickly adding, "That is when you're ready to get an earful, because I'm sure we will be…"

"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!" Mark as predicted, roared. "THIS IS KIDNAPPING!!! YOU'RE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL! YOU…"

"Are we, now..?" Steve calmly asked as he checked the battery level on the camera before moving on to its record settings.

"YES!!!"

"And remind me… Whose fault is that..?"

"FUCK! YOU!"

"Ahh…" the director sighed. "You're back, Bobby… "Ready to get rolling?"

"Yes, sir," the other pornstar confirmed.

"Good. You know what to do."

Apparently, Bobby did and didn't… He got the first part right by wheeling the food-loaded cart right up next to the pregnant football stud. What he did next, he kind of flubbed… reaching out to give Mark's belly a few solid thumps, which caused him to flinch, groan, rock and test his restraints again, which remained too strong for the pregnant man to break.

"Shit, Mark…" Bobby grunted. "You've really been packin' it in, huh? Your gut not only looks, but feels like a watermelon, it's so…"

"Shut up and start stuffing him, you idiot!" Steve bellowed from behind the camera as Darnell moved offscreen. "We've already wasted enough time!"

The other pornstar now also clad in all red football gear, indicating an opposing team (go figure!) hesitated for a few seconds before nervously breaking open the first of many boxes and pulling a sandwich from it. Bobby hesitated again and looked directly at the camera, breaking the third wall when instead of accepting the food he put in front of his mouth (which was admittedly, a change,) Mark turned his head away, causing Steve to shout again.

"Grab his chin and pull his mouth open!!!"

It took another few seconds for Bobby to get going, but when he did, he did… He took his left, sandwich-free hand, and wrapped it over Mark's chin before pushing it down, forcing his mouth wide open. With his right hand, Bobby pressed the sandwich into and against Mark's mouth, forcing him to take a big bite before pulling it back so he could chew. Steve was not happy with his performance.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Shove the whole damn thing in and feed him like he's apparently been feeding himself for the last month! COME THE FUCK ON!!!"

At being shouted at by the director, Bobby jarred up straight and did as commanded, shoving the rest of the half of the sandwich back into Mark's already full mouth. The doubly pregnant man let out a muffled grunt as he took it, forcing his first mouthful down his throat against his wishes, but wasn't ALL OF THIS against them now..?

"Yeah! That's more like it!" Steve encouraged from behind the camera. "Next one, Bobby! Next one! Stuff thus fucker till he's ready to burst, you hear me?!"

That was all the encouragement Bobby needed to really kick into gear… Keeping his hand on Mark's chin to make sure he didn't clamp it shut except to chew just as much as he had to, he kept cramming half sandwich after half sandwich into the stud till the first box of them was almost empty. Mark's belly quickly began to swell up again, pulling his jersey a little tighter the more stuffed he and it got. When the first box was empty, Bobby looked at Steve beyond the camera, only to be screamed at again.

"You didn't think that was it, did you?! Look how many other boxes there are, genius! You've still got a WHOLE fucking cart of food next to you!"

Upon being screamed at again, this time, Bobby thankfully didn't spring immediately back into action… He looked… conflicted.

"Bobby..?" Steve exhaled. "We went over this…"

"I know. But come on, boss… Look at his gut already!" Bobby pointed at Mark's belly, which was rapidly heaving with his breaths. "There's no way he can…"

"YES THERE IS!!! YOU HEARD ME!!!"

Bobby turned and looked Mark in the eye as he put a hand on his bulging, towering gut. "Sorry, buddy," he whispered. "Guess you're gonna have to eat a little more for me…"

Both men ignored the pressure literally rising at each of their groans as Bobby opened the second box of sandwiches. Halfway through it, Mark just gave in and tried his best to keep up with the endless flow of food, which thankfully, wasn't too difficult (at least not yet) thanks to all his "training." He kept his eyes shut as he chewed and swallowed on repeat, belly growing tighter and tighter.

At some point, Mark had stopped fighting back so Bobby's hand was free to rub his belly. He started at the top with gentle pressure, slowly and carefully moving down. He became genuinely afraid Mark might burst as the feeding moved on to the fourth box. The pregnant man's jersey was creeping higher up his swell, the small holes in the fabric starting to distort from all the pressure they were under. When Mark finished the fourth box, even though there was a fifth and final one waiting, Bobby stopped and turned to Steve.

"He can't take any more… He's gonna blow if I feed him the last box, look at him Steve! It looks like someone inflated him with an air hose!"

For the first time since starting, Steve stopped filming and didn't yell back. The stuffing session had gone on for almost three hours by then and both he and Bobby (as well as Darnell off to the side) watched as Mark lay there prone, audibly panting and groaning now that he had a chance thanks to a pause in all the food. He looked like his belly was about to burst, but Steve knew it wouldn't. Good thing, 'cause he was only just getting started…

"Fuuuuuck!" Mark groaned. "Ooooo! I feel like my… my gut's about to split! Pleeeease, guys!" He begged. "Uuuuuuuggh! You made your… fuckin'... point! I can't… can't fuckin'... breathe!"

The director came from behind the camera and slowly walked over to his stuck and stuffed star. He set both hands on Mark's belly, first, gently running the tips of his fingers all around it like he was rubbing the rim of a glass, then he raised all of them and brought them and his palms both down, slapping the huge, firm gut hard, making Bobby and Mark start. Off in the corner, Darnell didn't react.

"Happy to say I like what we've got so far…" Steve said. "Some fine footage of your huge, pregnant jock gut blowing up, how did you put it, Bobby? Oh, like someone inflated him with an air hose…"

There was another knock on the door. "Delivery!"

Steve turned to Darnell. "Would you mind? This one's already been paid for," he said before turning to Bobby. "Go help him, will ya?"

"Sure thing, boss," the non-pregnant, football gear clad stud nodded before trotting off.

As soon as it was just the two of them (relatively speaking, anyway,) Steve leaned down over Mark and smiled. "Since you got yourself off to an admittedly impressive start growing a pregnant belly that's sure to hit a lot of cult nerves, I'm going to make sure we have enough footage of you ballooning up like mpreg fanatics had only dreamed of seeing so far!" He shared with a bigger grin. "From what I saw, I think this is waking up something not only in you, but our pal, Bobby, who'll star as the baby daddy."

"Babies…" Mark corrected in a panting gasp, still trying to catch his breath.

"Babies?!" Steve repeated excitedly.

"Twins," Mark confirmed with a nod.

"Congratulations!" The director beamed. "To the both of us! This only makes things better!"

"No, it… doesn't…" Mark panted. "I dunno what the… fuck you have in… mind, but you can't… keep me here," he shook his head.

"Who says I can't? Who's going to come looking for you?" Steve asked, raising his brow. "One of your potential babies' daddies, none of whom know you're even pregnant!" He laughed. "Someone from your job? Shit…" he scoffed. "They pay you too much so they'll just be glad to have you out of the picture! And we both know, we don't have to worry about your family, seeing as you haven't had a relationship with them since…"

"How do you…" Mark started to ask. He shouldn't have been surprised Steve had surprised him yet again, yet he was.

"Know so much about you?" The director finished as he started running his fingers all over and around Mark's belly again. "You've been underestimating me and my determination, which is again, your fault, not mine…"

"Please, Steve!" The prone pornstar begged again. What other choice did he have now? Mark couldn't believe his plan had backfired, things going so bad, so fast. "I…"

"I know a lot about you, just like I now know there's a whole slew of guys out there into really pregnant guys!" The director said as he wrapped both hands around his star's massively stuffed middle and started thumping it like a drum. "Like I said, I hadn't planned on catering to that specific market, but since you're my now literally, biggest star, who really seems to have gotten himself into this whole pregnancy thing, growing your belly at a rate I've never seen, I decided to capitalize on this… talent of yours, and once again, make sure you're the center of the show!"

Mark shut his eyes again as he felt his already flushed and sweaty face grow hotter. Had he been able to move either of his legs, he would've kicked himself for not having seen this coming… He'd known Steve was fucked up, deranged and power-hungry, but despite all that, Mark hadn't expected this! But as the director had pointed out multiple times, in an undeniable way, he'd done this to himself…

"Oh, now what do we have here?" Steve asked as he reached down and grabbed Mark's throbbing erection. "Seems like the idea of ballooning up into a pregnant cow has this former bull of ours all horned up!"

Bobby looked down to where Steve was grabbing as he rolled in a handcart, stacked high with three big barrels. "Here you go, boss."

"Thank you, Bobby," Steve said. "Unstack them here," he pointed, right next to the table.

"You got it."

"See…" Steve said as he turned back to Mark. "I can be nice when my people do as I say… But anyway… Since it seems like you're not hating this too much after all, maybe our next scene will get you, my hugely pregnant star, hotter than anything you've filmed for me so far?"

Mark shut his eyes again, holding them tight as he tried to tune Steve out. Not only his words, but how he was gripping and rubbing his cock. The more he tried, the more he felt himself grow and stiffen. Then all of a sudden, his cock was released, the director pushing himself away from Mark using the closest side of his belly, expelling a long, low grunt of discomfort.

"Time to get going with the progressive shots, Bobby," he said as he walked back towards the camera. "You know what to do…"

Thoughts of fear, panic, worry and concern flooded Mark's mind… This can't be happening?! There's NO WAY they can get any more into me! I'm gonna fuckin' burst! The babies! Shit… the babies! He tried to form a cohesive, verbal statement, to say something that would get Steve to stop and come to his…

But it was too late. Before he could get even a single word out, Bobby had the keg's nozzle shoved first into Mark's mouth and then down his throat. As soon as it was in place, he started jamming on the tap, pumping it like crazy as Steve restarted the camera.

After just a few pumps, Mark felt great discomfort and pressure as his gut started to swell again. He felt his stomach (and belly as a whole) tighten and the pressure grow to an intense, firm ache. He pulled and kicked at his restraints again but to no avail, soon dropping his head in defeat. All he could do was try not to think about the tension building in his now dangerously swollen belly and try his best to keep up with the now rushing flow of whatever it was being pumped into him against his will.

Try as he might, even with all his "practice," Mark wasn't able to keep up and the fluid backed up in his throat and filled his mouth as he continued to swallow. At least it tasted good… Sweet and creamy.