You Can't Fight Biology

I. How I got into this

It's not every day you meet a pregnant man. Well, I guess I don't look much like a man, anymore. Anyone would take me for a not-very-pretty woman with a huge belly and a couple of big, soppy boobs.

I might be due any day now, for all I know. I haven't been counting.

Well, pull up a chair and I'll tell you how it happened.

I probably had this coming. What I did was very wrong, and while the punishment is bizarre, I can't say I don't deserve it. But my wife and daughter should not have had to pay for my mistakes.

I guess you could call the whole thing a tragedy.

I was a married man, and more or less happy. We had one daughter, Ellen, eighteen years old, in her last year of high school. My wife Annie was as pretty and sexy as any man could want. We'd been together, off and on, since high school, and though I truly loved her, perhaps I did not fully appreciate her. She was ripe and curvaceous, and we had a lively and imaginitive sex life; but, as shallow as it sounds, I always wished she had bigger breasts. Like a lot of guys, I had a thing for a big bust...which is kind of ironic, if you look at me now. But she had a winning smile and a good heart, and I can tell you in all honesty I never intended to cheat on her. But I guess when it came down to it, I was too weak, or too stupid, to turn down sex when it was offered.

It happened one weekend while Annie and the kids were out of town, visiting her mother in New Mexico.

In those days, we lived in a nice suburb. Our neighbour on one side was a pleasant elderly widow. On the other, was a childless couple who mostly kept to themselves. The neighourhood gossip was that he was some kind of scientist, an experimental biologist working for the government. He did not seem to be on a first name basis with anyone. All we knew was that his name was Dr. Mueller, a craggy, scowling man with no time for small talk.

His wife was the very opposite. She was what you might call a babe, and much younger. She can't have been more than twenty, a natural blond with wide, bright eyes and the sort of perfect skin you only see on the very young. And yes, don't worry, I was just about to get to it...she had big boobs. Really big, actually, if you looked closely. I guess I did look as closely as I could, when I happened to catch sight of her working in the garden, or getting in and out of her little red car.

I had never spoken to her before that weekend. It was a warm, spring day, and I was on the back patio sipping a coke and reading a spy novel, when she called out to me from across the yard. I looked up. She was waving to me from the back door, in light-coloured shorts, a ribbed cotton tank top stretched out rather alluringly by her full breasts. What she wanted to know was, would I be willing to come over and help her hang a mirror? I certainly would. In fact, I was over there like shot, and soon found myself in the downstairs guest bedroom of their house, holding a mirror up against the wall. She stood behind me, saying things like, "A little higher...no lower...down on the left," and was kind of enjoying our little interaction. Not in a creepy way, mind you...I was just foolishly pleased to help a pretty girl. But then I happened to look into the mirror and got a bit of a shock. I her reflection in it, standing behind me. She had one hand cupped over her left breast, and she seemed to be squeezing a nipple through the fabric of her tank top. Her other hand was done inside the elastic waistband of shorts, and she was moving it up and down in a rythmical way.

Fortunately, I did not drop the mirror, but I did set it down very quickly.

"Excuse me," I started to say, "maybe I had better..."

She cut me off. "I'm sorry. How embarrassing. I must look totally stupid. I'm not like this, usually. In fact, I'm pretty sure this is because of the pills my husband gives me. I think he's been giving them to me in secret, slipping them into my food. They make me sort of...vague and distracted. And...needy."

It was a weird story, and I should have had the sense to back away. But of course I found it kind of titillating, as you probably would, too. "Wow," I said, "I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Maybe you should call the police."

"Oh, I could not do that. Anyhow, he takes care of me, and I do love him. Even if he is giving me some...some vitamins, or whatever. I'm sure it won't do me any harm. He is a doctor of biology, you know."

Then, she reached out and took my hand and lifted it up to breast, pressing the back of my hand into her soft bosom. I did not resist. Through the skin on my knuckles, I could feel the stretched cloth of her tank top, her nervous breathing, the slight dampness of her skin where her collar opened into her cleavage. She started sliding my hand down her body, over the roundness of her belly, past the elastic waistband of her pants. She turned my hand around, and pushed my palm firmly against the soft swelling of her vulva. Then, she gasped weakly, and I thought she was about to faint. And, instead of pulling my hand away, as I ought to have done, I began moving it slowly up and down. She moaned very softly.

After that, we sort of fell over onto the guest bed, and began clawing off our clothes. When she was quite naked, I had to pause for a moment and take in her alarmingly perfect young body - the trim waist opening onto the ample hips, the softly swelling, and slightly pendulous, breasts, the little triangular puff of blond hair over her vaginal opening. My own clothes came off in a flash, and my thin, hard cock was practically jumping up and down. I crossed the point of no return without so much as a backward glance. Kneeling on the bed, between her legs, I plunged forward and pushed my cock in that little tuft of hair.

To my surprise, she climaxed right away. I felt her muscles stiffening beneath me, and a flurr of little in her labia wrapped snuggly around the shaft of my penis. Startled by the suddenness of it, I paused for a moment, wondering if I ought to carry on. Then instinct got the better of me, and I began tentatively sliding my penis in and out. Within a few seconds, she came again, with a long sigh. Now I began pumping with a vaguely panicked feeling, desperate to reach the finish line. Eventually, I came as well, and she orgasmed for a third time with a sort of triumphant moan. I felt my sperm spurting into her in four long pulses, and then I collapsed weakly over her little body, panting as if I'd run a mile.

I realized, to my horror, that I had just fucked a...well, a kid, really. She was barely out of her teens, and married, too. Mortified, I had a sudden fantasy that I could take the last ten minutes back, the desperate fumbling sex, that incriminating white dribble of sperm caught in the pale tufts of hair around her little cunt.

I gathered my clothes and rushed to get dressed, stammering out apologies like an idiot. She said nothing at all. Her eyelids were closed, and she looked as calm as can be. "Thank you," she said, at last. "That was not your idea, but it helped me a lot. My husband can't ever know about this, and I have to ask you not to tell anyone, ever."

That request suited me very well. Before leaving, I swore to her that I would never reveal to anyone what had happened.

Then, I fled the scene like a criminal, and returned to the unnatural silence of my home.

2. The Doctor begins his Revenge

Months passed, and nothing changed. My sweet, lively daughter got up every morning and went to school. I threw myself into my work, and my wife Annie was as kind and loving as ever. I suppose that, having come so close to ruining our relationship, I appreciated her a bit more, and maybe treated with a bit of extra tenderness. Our family life was better than ever. And of the "girl next door"-I didn't even know her name!-I saw nearly nothing. I saw the back of her head once, as she drove off with her husband. Once I cauht her silhouette in the side window of their house.

So, it came as a surprise when I looked out, one sunny morning in early fall, and saw her on her knees in the back yard, with a hand spade, digging in the garden. Against my better instincts, I allowed myself to stare at her backside for a while as she worked, soaking up the picture of her beautiful, ripe hips and the plump cleft of her butt. But when she stood up and turned around to brush some crumbs of soil off her workclothes, I startled to see a distinct roundness under her apron, and an added heaviness in her bosom. She was pregnant. I was knocked back by a wave of panic. Was the baby mine? I had a sudden impulse to run out and ask, but suppressed it. After all, there was no reason why it had to be my child she was carrying. Why shouldn't a young married woman be pregnant? It was the most normal thing in the world. In any case, she seemed quite serene, even happy, bending over in the garden to scoop up her tools, moving slowly, expertly working despite the awkward bulk of her big belly and heavy tits.

I was very worried by what I had seen, but I decided to do nothing about it. I convinced myself that she would have her baby, that her husband would raise it as his own (which it probably was, in any case!). I did my best to put it out of my mind.

But one morning, as I walked out ito the driveway to go to work, everything went dark. I felt a cloth bag closing around my head, and gagged on the sweet reek of anesthetic as I fell to the ground.

I have no idea how long I was unconscious. I've tried to work it out, since then, but I have so little to go by. Certainly, I was in some sort of drug-induced coma for a very long time...days or weeks at least. I came close to waking up a few times, and dreamt constantly...strange, hallucinatory dreams, disturbing and intense. It might have been as long as a month, before I woke up with a clear head, in a clean, quiet room surrounded by white curtains.

I pulled myself up in bed, and looked around me. Was this a hospital? It looked a bit like one. Had I been in some sort of accident? Had I been...in surgery? With that thought, I panicked and yanked back the sheets to check out my body. I was relieved to see that everything was still there: no missing legs, no new stiches or scars. I palpated my torso, and ran my hands over my face, which felt a bit stubbly, but otherwise normal. I seemed to be OK, but I knew I had better get out of there.

I felt a bit light in the head as I started climbing out of bed. My bare foot had just touched the ground when the door opened and in came a black-haired man with heavy eyelids and an unmistakeable scowl. Dr. Mueller, husband of "the girl next door." I knew then that this was not going to end well.

Behind him was a bustling, efficient-looking young woman in a crisp garment. A nurse, it seemed.

"Ah," she said rushing over to my bedside, "you're awake. Please don't try to stand, you'll find your legs are still weak. It will be a day or two before you are fit to move around again."

Indignation rose up in me, and I grabbed at her sleeve. "What is this about?" I demanded. Then a bad idea crossed my thoughts. "My daughter, my wife..."

This time, it was Dr. Mueller who spoke. "They're fine. Better than ever, I would say, noticeably improved. Not that you have any right to know." He looked at me sharply. "And unless you would like to see them hurt, I recommend that you do not say another word." He raised a finger and looked at me over the rim of his glasses. "You will exactly as you are told, or the consequences will be on your head."

He turned his attention to the nurse at his side, and gave her some instructions in a voice too low for me to hear. Then, they both left the room, and I heard the soft click of the door being latched from without.

They kept me in that clean, comfortable prison for another few days, during which my strength returned to me. I forced myself to be quiet, and compliant, for now. The nurse came in at intervals to feed me, and see that I was comfortable and healthy. She even brought me some books and old magazines for my entertainment. Whenever she was out of the room, I practised walking, and I could feel my strength coming back. By the third day, I resolved that the next time she came in I would overpower her and make my escape. However, the next time the door opened, it was not the nurse who came in, but two large men, who grabbed me quite roughly. I struggled as well as I could, but they soon manage to wrestle me into handcuffs, and to strip off my clothes as well, so that I was naked, exposed and entirely in their power. What the doctor had in mind for me, could not even imagine.

The two men led me out of the room, and prodded me from behind, none too gently, taking me down the hall to a much larger room, with soft carpeting on the floors and comfortable chairs all around. There was a large structural post in the middle of the room, and they fastened me to this by means of a short chain.

Several minutes passed. The air in the room was warm, but I shivered at the thought of what dreadful things they might be planning to do to me. I was expecting physical harm, further humiliation, possibly even torture. What actually happened next was something I did not imagine at all.

The door of the room came open, and a larger group entered. At the front of the party was a familiar face: the "girl next door," now hugely pregnant and dressed only in an oversized T-shirt, with little wet spots over each nipple. She looked fixedly at the floor and would not even glance in my direction. Next, came the scowling doctor. Then, two more figures swept in: the prim nurse who had brought me my dinners, and a much shorter female whose face was hidden by a curtain of reddish brown hair. It was a young girl, I could see, very short...perhaps five feet tall, with short, childish arms and- as I could see, even from here-extremely large breasts. She was wearing nothing but a loose-fitting top, and a pair of white cotton panties, under which were a pair of girlishly plump, bare legs. She lifted her head, and turned to look at me, and with a terrible shock I recognized the face. It was my own little girl, my darling daughter. But cruelly transformed.

"Look what they did to me she wailed mournfully, tears springing to her eyes. "They made me into a cow...and they even won't let me shave." She glared angrily down at her white panties, and I could see a little fringe of dark pubic hair peeking out over the elastic. Now the tears were streaming down her face, and she gave a pathetic cry as the nurse began to unbutton the loose shirt from behind and pulled it away.

Her breasts were simply huge. What monstrous procedures had they used to cause such a dreadful transformation? Her breasts hung heavily in front, swaying slightly from side to side as the poor girl sobbed. I was aghast. "My poor baby," I called out. I turned angrily to Mueller. "What have you done to her? The girl was innocent! She's done nothing wrong."

"And we have not harmed her in any way," he said. "She is certainly no worse off than my lovely wife. Who seems to be, as you must have noticed, in the family way." He gestured with his chin toward the "girl next door now slumped miserably in a chair at the far end of the room.

Then he turned back to my daughter. "Finish removing her clothes he said. And the nurse pulled out a pair of scissors and neatly snipped the panties free, exposing a shocking triangle of dark black hair. The girl tried to cover it with one of her hands, but could not conceal her shame.

"Now, have her assume a receptive position," said the doctor.

The nurse pushed Ellen down on all fours, like an animal. Now, her tits dangled down in front between her short arms, the nipples just brushing the carpet. I looked over at the doctor, and saw, to my horror, that he was removing his own pants, in a slow and methodical way, folding them carefully and placing them on a smal table. His penis sprang up, as if from nowhere, and a horrible huge thing it was. He was far bigger than a normal man, and correspondingly thick.

"As you see," he said "I am not unwilling to use such biological enhancements on myself. My methods are experimental, but perfectly safe. A carefully calibrated mixture of hormones has made a fine young woman of your daughter. And I have found another formula to enhance my own...qualities." He moved behind my daughter, who was still cowering and sobbing on all fours.

Then, he knelt down behind Ellen, took his massive organ in his hand and began pushing it into her vagina from behind.

"Daddy, make him stop!" she cried.

I lunged against my chains. I had to put and end to this. A curse sprang to my lips, but by then he had already plunged his oversized stiffness into her. All I could do was close my eyes in anger and dismay. She shrieked, as if she had been struck with a whip. He pushed again, and she cried out again. Then he began thrusting into her, and with every thrust, she sobbed more loudly. And with each thrust, her huge tits swung and wobbled between her tiny arms, the nipples brushing against the harsh fibres of the carpet. Slowly, I could see those nipples become hard and erect. And gradually, as the thrusts continued, her sobs turned to astonished gasps; then the gasps turned to little grunts, which turned at last to moans of pleasure. And soon, my little daughter was crying, "Uh! Uh! Uh!" in rhythm with the repulsive pushing. The tears were gone, now, and the pitiless doctor kept thrusting, and thrusting. I called out, "Be brave, dear, you will survive this!" But she did not seem to hear me at all, for at this point my little girl made a particularly loud moan, and I could see that she was arching her back, and pushing against her attacker with something almost like enthusiasm. She made a little cry that sounded almost joyful, and then her whole body began to shudder and quake as she experienced what may have been her first orgasm.

And then the doctor climaxed as well, and as he did so his scowling face reddened slightly and the veins in his neck stood out. For the first time, I noticed the pair of big, heavy balls swinging under his genetically enhanced prick, and realized that he was, at this very moment, pumping his foul sperm into my sweet little girl. She had started sobbing again, with her arms crossed over her huge tits, but now they were tears of satisfied exhaustion, mingled with something a bit like ecstasy.

When he had finished filling my daughter with his hideous sperm, the doctor pulled out and put his clothes back on, calmly stuffing his fat dangler back into his pants and cinching up his belt.

Then he looked over at me, and it was only then that I became aware of an embarrassing fact. There I was, naked, and handcuffed to a post, and my own erect penis was sticking right up between my thighs. It was a rather small thing, compared to Mueller's, but it was as stiff as a little carrot, bobbing up and down irrepressibly. I could do nothing to hide it.

He spoke to Ellen, now. "Your father seems to have enjoyed this almost as much as you did. Now, go put your hand around his little thing."

Ellen looked at him with horror and dismay, but he did not relent. "Do as I say, or you will regret it."

She shuffled over to me, her arms crossed over her breasts, trying to hide them as well as she could. I could do nothing but sit there, with my stick poking up. "Touch it he said. She reached out, very tentatively, and wrapped her fingers around the end of my prick. I tried to force my thoughts elsewhere, but my penis twitched and shook, in her hand, and I could do nothing to prevent what happened next. A glob of semen shot out, and landed on her knee. Then, a second spasm took me, and another string of sperm shot out. This one went further, landing right over the nipple of her left tit. The third spasm produced a slow flow of semen that spilled down the shaft of my penis and all over her tiny fingers.