Date: Tue, 3 Dec 2013 22:30:38 +0100 (CET) From: Patrick Summers Subject: Frey Inseminated part 2 Warning: graphic birth in this one * * * At first, they had no idea what was going on. They now did *that* regularly, just because it felt good and was a new fun thing they liked to do together, but the strange urgency of their first time never returned. His belly was still a hot spot for Frey, though, something that Weston couldn't quite relate to, but took advantage of mercilessly. The only time Frey ever came untouched was when Weston would mouth around there, just underneath his brother's belly button. He'd kiss and lick the taut skin, and as soon as he'd press his cheek to it, Frey would come undone, crying out and shooting his few drops high up his chest. Most of the time, Weston would put his dick in Frey's hole. He loved it and it was convenient, since Frey made that slick stuff that made it so much easier to glide in. They'd found out though trial and error that Weston didn't care much for being touched there, but he loved having his brother's mouth around his dick. They quite enjoyed finding out those things about the other and there wasn't a day that they didn't find some new way to get to that great feeling. "It's called an orgasm," Frey said one morning as he squatted in the shower, trying to get all the white stuff out that his brother had squirted into him earlier. It ran out of him together with the thick slick his own body produced and Weston watched it with interest. Already, his dick was twitching again. "Uh-huh," he murmured absently, stripping off his sleepwear and stepping into the shower as well. "Interesting." Frey startled when he felt his brother reach around him and pull him back, moaning appreciatively when Weston squeezed his dick into his hole. "Uh, I'll never be, unh, clean at this rate, Wes," he complained breathily, but moved into his brother's gentle thrusts readily enough. The upshot was that Frey spent the whole day leaking their combined juices into the back of his pants and Weston took him twice more, adding to the sticky mess just because he could. There weren't any obvious changes in Frey those first few weeks. He was content, smiling a lot and was very cuddly, but Weston didn't mind the extra attention, even if it meant arranging himself around Frey on the couch each night. Their mom loved the new rapport they had with each other. She had a new boyfriend and spent even more time away from the house. She did leave enough money for the boys to splurge and be able to get take-out every once in a while, so they didn't mind her absence at all. They were in their own little bubble and so happy, they never even noticed that Frey would suddenly crave certain things, when before he'd never been particularly picky. Sometimes Frey would complain about queasiness in the mornings, but that always went away when he nibbled on some toast, so they didn't think much of that either. One time, Weston grabbed his brother as he swayed after getting up too quick and they ended up having loud, enthusiastic sex on the kitchen table, which set a sort of precedence. "I feel faint when you're near," Frey would giggle and struck a Scarlett O'Hara pose, making Weston laugh and grow hard at the same time. Another symptom ignored. It was about twelve weeks after they'd started their little affair that they noticed something that couldn't be ignored as easily. "Huh," Frey said, standing in front of the huge body-length mirror in their Mom's room. He was trying on different outfits for a party at a classmate's house he and Weston were invited to. "I think I grew." Weston peered into the room. "Pants too short?" He asked, buttoning up the new shirt he'd gotten, the one that Frey had said brought out his eyes. He wasn't very keen on going, but Frey was almost giddy with anticipation, so he sucked it up. "Not really, no," Frey frowned. "They're sort of too tight?" Weston burst out laughing. "Must have been all those potato chips you've been eating." Frey rolled his eyes. "Here, look, isn't that strange?" He pointed at his belly. "It's just that bit down here that's gotten bigger." Now that he was looking for it, Weston could see it too. Where before Frey's lower abdomen had been flat, concave even, it was now slightly curved and as his brother turned to the side, he could see that it was sticking out a little from the rest of his lithe body. Stepping closer, Weston laid his hands on Frey's waist. Overcome by a strange feeling of protectiveness, he leaned down and kissed his brother, long and deep. They didn't do this often, despite everything finding it weird to kiss like their Mom and Dad used to, but in that moment, it felt right. "I don't care if you get fat *and* ugly," Weston murmured against Frey's lips. "I'll love you always and evermore." Smiling, Frey snuggled into him. "That's from Cinderella, you doofus." Weston just grinned and smacked his brother on the ass, starting a gentle wrestling match that ended with them making out on the floor in front of the mirror. They never made it to the party. * * * They never talked about it. When it became obvious that Frey's belly wouldn't stop growing, Weston got him new pants and looser shirts from ROSS and cheered him up whenever he whined about feeling like a fatty. Frey didn't seem to be sick, though. In fact, he was looking so beautiful and glowy that it was all Weston could do keeping his hands off him. He was even tighter now, too, and Weston loved being inside his brother and feel that additional weight squish his dick. Somehow, they even kept it hidden from their Mom. It helped that she was always in and out, giving them only cursory once-overs to make sure that they didn't look like homeless crack addicts - her words - and as long as they made do with the money she left them, she didn't care at all what they were up to. It was harder to hide Frey's abnormal belly in school, so they faked a sprained ankle when he couldn't do PE without it hurting anymore. Other than that, though, their teachers were as oblivious as all the other random adults they came in contact with, and for months, the brothers lived their lives as if nothing was wrong. In retrospect, they weren't sure how they could have just sort of missed the fact that there were twins growing in Frey's slight eleven-year-old body. * * * It was when they were doing it in front of the TV that one time that Weston figured it out. Groaning softly as he lay behind Frey, spooning him gently as he thrust his dick into his brother's tight hole, he was only peripherally aware of what was going on on the screen. There were some sort of monkeys, he noticed hazily, tightening his grip on Frey's big belly as he pushed faster and harder into that clenching, wet hole. "Ah," he moaned, "look, baby, they're doing it, too." And indeed, on screen, two male monkeys were fucking just like they were. Weston grunted as he caught a glimpse of the long, thin dick that pushed into the other monkey's wet hole and came hard, spilling deep into Frey in the same moment the monkey did. *Breeder chimps are a rare occurrence* the commentator said and the screen showed another male chimp, its belly swollen. *A chimp's cycle is no different than a human one. Drawn to the scent of fertility that oozes from the natural lubricant a Breeder produces, male chimps will do anything to impregnate the Breeder.* Before him, Frey jerked. "Wes", he breathed, hands going to his big belly. "Yeah," Weston said, stunned. "You're pregnant. And I'm the father." "Oh," Frey breathed. "That first timeÉ?" "Yes." Weston shuddered at the memory, his dick growing full again inside his brother. "You smelled so good, Frey, made me so hard I really couldn't help myself. I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay," Frey panted and moved with him. "Remember, Breeder's have to be impregnated in their first cycle. You saved me." They lay like that for a long time, lost in the pleasure of their connection. * * * The first cry woke Weston from a deep sleep. They'd been completely alone for over two weeks now, and when their Mom had called a few days earlier, she'd told them not to expect her back anytime soon. Apparently, her pseudo-honeymoon with her new guy was more important than her two sons. "Wes?" Frey was crying, lying on his side, curled around his hugely protruding belly. Underneath him, the mattress was wet. "What's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. It was only shortly after three am. "Did you wet the bed?" "No," Frey sniffed. "It just sorta came out the other way. Doesn't smell like pee either. My stomach hurts, Wes, can you get me some soda?" Nodding, Weston yawned and rubbed Frey's shoulder. "Sure." When he got back, Frey had stripped out of his sodden pajama pants and had tossed them to the floor beside the bed. As he walked over to the bed, Weston almost dropped the glass. "Your hole!" He exclaimed, before he could stop himself. "It's open!" Frey didn't answer. As Weston stared wide-eyed at his brother, Frey cried out and writhed on the bed, holding his bulging stomach. As he was watching, Frey's formerly tight hole gaped open even more. When the worst of it seemed to be over for the moment, Frey lay there panting and Weston fought against a rising panic at seeing his brother like this. For a while, he stood there, hoping against hope that whatever illness had taken hold of his brother was over now. The hope was dashed. About two minutes after he'd relaxed, Frey tensed again, whimpering in pain. Frey held out a trembling hand. "Wes," he sobbed. "It hurts, Wes. Hurts so bad. Make it stoooooop!" Crying out harshly, Frey turned onto his back and doubled over, hunching over his big belly. As he howled through the pain, he bend his knees and opened them wide and suddenly, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, Weston knew what was going on. "Labor," he whispered, horrified and elated at the same time. "Oh, Frey, the baby!" But Frey was in no mind to acknowledge that amazing fact. His brother's slight body was trembling under the strain and helpless tears of agony ran down his flushed cheeks as new pain cursed through him. This time, when Frey strained forward with a scream, Weston could clearly see something push against his dilated hole from the inside and knew that the birth was imminent. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," he chanted, scared out of his wits. In his desperation, Weston did the only thing he could think of, the one thing he'd sworn never to do. He called his Dad. "Papa?" He cried as soon as someone picked up. He'd been strong so far, mostly for Frey's sake, but all in all he was still a frightened eleven year old and he couldn't stop the sobs any longer. "Papa, c-can you, can y-you come get us? P-Please?" "Wes, is that you?" At the sound of his Dad's calm voice, Weston lost it completely. "Please," he blubbered, "Papa, Frey i-is p-pregnant and he's in l-labor and in pain and, and-" "Jesus Christ!" He heard his Dad say, and when he spoke next, it sounded like he was running. "I'm coming, Wes, you hear me? I'm on my way, baby. Everything will be okay, and Frey will be fine. Just try to keep calm and be there for your brother." Nodding, even though his father couldn't see the gesture, Weston rubbed his sleeve over his face and turned back to the bed. It seemed like Frey had gotten a short reprieve in between contractions and was now lying there like a ragdoll, panting and staring at Weston as if he could make it all go away. Almost running over, Weston fell to his knees beside the bed and grabbed Frey's hand. "It's all gonna be okay," he crooned, kissing his brother's tear-stained cheeks. "Dad is on the way, and when he gets here, he'll make the baby come out and then the pain will be over." "B-Baby?" Frey moaned, and Weston nodded, laying a hand on his brother's pregnant belly. "Yeah," he said softly. "Our baby. The one we made inside of you. It's time for us to meet it, don't you think?" But Frey didn't answer. Instead, he made a low, guttural sound that Weston had never hear before and when he bore down this time, his belly shifted visibly. Instinctively, Weston got behind him and pulled his brother against his chest. Frey shrieked and strained against Weston's hold in his desperation to get away from the pain, when his panicked eyes found the calm ones of his father, who was suddenly standing in the doorway like a knight in shining armor, laden with his medical kit and some towels. "Hey, sweetheart," Dad said gently to Frey, slipping on gloves and coming to kneel on the bed. "I see you've done almost all the hard work already." Frey was sobbing, but there was relief in the desperate sobs now. "Daddy." "Yes," Dad murmured, and winked at Weston. "I'm here now. You just breathe, Frey, and lean on your brother for a while, okay?" Frey nodded, groaning a little when their Dad pushed two fingers into his dilated hole. "Oh, you're pretty far along here. I can already feel the head. Baby's well on his way, son." Another contraction tore through Frey's young body, and even though he had his hands full with his brother, Weston didn't miss the worried frown on his Dad's face. "What?" "There's something here," he hesitated, cradling Frey's bloated belly in his big hands. "Something. A-ha!" He looked about as stunned as Weston had ever seen him. "It's another one. Frey is carrying twins!" Weston gaped, but didn't have time to react as in that moment, Frey huffed through his mouth and squeezed Weston's hand hard. He let out a hoarse shout as the pain ended and let his head lull onto his brother's shoulder. "They're moving down." Dad took Weston's hand and pressed it into his brother's low underbelly, so Weston could feel the outline of a skull. "The first one is right there. And the second twin is-" he moved his hand up closer to Frey's dilated entrance, "here. Little brother or sister's there." "Oh, god." Weston exhaled, pressing his hand against the bulge of their baby. "We did that. Wow. That's, wow." He cracked a wide smile, looking at Frey in awe. His brother was panting and moaned in pain, but Weston was so amazed by the miracle they'd created that he kissed Frey full-on, tongue and all. "I love you," he murmured against his brother's lips. Frey gave a weak laugh. "I don't like you much right now, Wes." Dad bent over them. He stroked a soothing hand down the side of Frey's sweat-slick face. "Yeah, I bet. You're too small anyway and those babies are right on top of each other now. They can't be any more comfortable than you are, sweetheart, and we need this to be over quick. Can you do that, huh?" Frey blew out a breath and steadied his breathing, sighing into Weston's neck. "I'll try," he said quietly, before crying out as another contraction took hold. "He's already pushing," Dad said, "so at least the first one should be out soon." "Good." Weston rubbed Frey's shoulder, feeling how tense he was. Frey's belly was still now, but the muscles of his uterus were tight even outside of contractions. And then everything went very quickly. With the next contraction, Frey bore down again, panting heavily as he writhed in Weston's hold. "The head's almost out," Dad said, still very calm. "Another strong push, Frey, come on." Frey moaned pathetically, in tears again, and finally accepted what needed to happen. "Ahhh!" With a sharp cry, he did just that and suddenly Dad was pulling at something. Frey's eyes bulged and he screeched in terror, and then his cry was drowned out by that of an angry newborn. "It's a boy," Dad said with a huge grin. Weston stared at the squalling baby in astonishment. He was a father! Frey didn't even look at his new son, though. His stomach had deflated some, but there was still movement in there as baby number two wanted out as well. "Oh, God," Frey whimpered in intense pain, panting with wide eyes. "God, Weston, ahhh!" He gripped the sheets, the power of the contractions increasing again. "It huuuurts!" He moaned, tossing his head back and screaming as he strained to push out his second baby. Dad had wrapped their firstborn into one of the towels and had laid him on the floor. "There comes number two," he commented, even as he carefully helped Frey by pulling. One second, Frey was crying and screeching, and the next he slumped against Weston in utter relief. "And boy number two!" Dad announced. "There's only two, right?" Frey panted breathily, and Weston laughed. He couldn't take his eyes off of both of his sons. He could hardly believe that just mere minutes ago, both of these perfect babies had been inside of his brother. "The afterbirths should be out soon," Dad was saying. As the shock and excitement of the moment slowly faded, Weston felt apprehension rise in him. He had made a vow to himself the day their father had left them to never ask for his help, ever. But Dad *was* an OB-GYN specialized in Breeder pregnancies, so calling him had been a no-brainer. Frey was dozing in his arms, and after making sure that his brother was out for the count, Weston looked his Dad firmly in the eyes. "What is going to happen to us now?" Sighing, his Dad leaned back from where he'd given the babies a check-up. "You can't stay here, that much is clear. Whatever your Mom has been up to these last months, it didn't have a lot to do with raising you two." He rubbed a hand over his face roughly. "How in the hell have you two managed to keep this pregnancy a secret, huh? Admittedly, these babies are small, but they're twins, for god's sake and Frey is not even twelve yet." "We didn't realize he was pregnant," Weston admitted sheepishly. "At least not until Frey was really far along." "You didn't realize," Dad breathed, sounding both stunned and horrified. "That settles it. I'm taking you two and the babies with me. I can see now how big of a mistake it was not to fight for custody when Jessa and I split." "What about Ned?" Weston asked defiantly. Ned was Dad's new lover and the main reason for the resentment Weston had convinced himself to feel on his mother's behalf. To his surprise, Dad smiled. "He'll love having two babies to take care of and he's always wanted to meet you two." "They're our babies!" The harshly whispered words turned both their attention to Frey. The boy looked about as wiped out as one would imagine after giving birth to twins, but there was a stubborn gleam in his eyes as he glared at their Dad. "Yes," Dad murmured soothingly. "They're yours, Frey, and they always will be. But don't you think that you're going to need a little help with them? Have you ever even changed a diaper in your life?" "I can learn," Frey returned, wincing as he tried to sit up. "We'll both learn. I'm not going to let you take them away." "Shush, sweetheart," Dad said, picking up one of the softly mewling bundles and placing them in his son's arms. "Nobody is going to take them away from you. Just let me help, yeah? I missed so much with you two, I won't be making the same mistake with my grandsons." That gave everybody pause. "Huh," Weston said after a moment, grinning widely. "That's right. You're a grandpa now!" "Don't remind me," Dad groaned, and suddenly, they were all laughing. Things would be tough, that much was clear to all of them. As eleven-year-olds they were barely able to take care of themselves, much less two babies. And then there was also the fact that they were brothers, even if the obvious moral implications didn't apply to Breeders in their Cycle. But for now, Weston and Frey just enjoyed being with their new sons, future problems be damned. TBC As always, feedback is very much appreciated.