The Janitor Pt. 7

Here's where things really, really start differentiating from the OG. Pt. 8 is going to be almost entirely (ENTIRELY) new content, as I am having somewhat of an "easy" time working on it since I'm "in the zone."

Please look for some more absolutely incredible pictures from @fulleclipsehex to accompany this story soon.

The Janitor - Revisited

By 

Brimmingbelly04

Based on The Janitor

By

KomperaKlause

Part Seven

A few moments later, Ben Whitman proved his slightly younger, possible “protege” right. He was barely moving but he still came to an abrupt, ponderous stop and turned to look back at Derek. 

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, eyes widening as his chubby face went beet red again. 

“Come on now!” Derek whined as he dropped his huge, heavy ass down on the same corner of his poor desk the other preggo had recently relieved. 

Through his strained slacks and underwear, he could feel the residual heat Whitman's own pregnancy/Matt-fattened ass had left behind on the wood. Not even a full moment later, the frazzled thirty-three year old became even more so when he heard a slight, fleshy pop which was followed by a splash. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Derek didn't want to, but he couldn't keep from staring at his potential future's sweats-clad ass as it spewed amniotic fluid onto his carpeted office floor. A lot of the stuff. Once again, fuck.

“Ooook…” Whitman shakily exhaled. “No need to panic!” He said as he craned his neck in a futile attempt to look behind him at the mess he was continuing to make. 

While he was still in the process of releasing a generous amount of its contents, the sheer size his belly remained prevented him from being able to do so. 

“I'm good,” he continued, mostly to himself. “I'm good. We're good,” he nodded. “I can still get outta here and get back home.”

“Back home?!” Derek repeated incredulously. “Don't you mean to the hospital?!”

Whitman scoffed right back. “I haven't needed to give birth at a hospital in years!”

“Congratulations?” The thirty-three year old reluctantly offered, his tone understandably unsure and uncomfortable. 

“Thanks,” the laboring man rolled his eyes. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. At least we know someone who can clean it up!” He chuckled. 

“Unfortunately.”

“I should be going,” Whitman said. 

“Please!” Derek exhaled and nodded dramatically. “No offense…”

“None taken. I did what he asked, though now that I'm thinking about it…”

“Yeah?” He raised his brows. 

Ben sighed. “I'm pretty sure he played me.”

“How so?” Derek frowned. 

“Matt would've come back to me. Cum in me, I should say, even if I hadn't come here today.”

Derek exhaled. “If you asked me, I'd say he's pretty damn good at following through on his threats… Anyway, you really should get…”

“But maybe he didn't play me?” Ben realized aloud. “The more I think about it, the more I doubt it.”

“Why's that?” Derek asked before he could stop himself. He needed Whitman and his brood gone, preferably while they were all one unit. 

“I thought for sure Matt would come back because you'd be out of the picture, but then I realized, you won't be,” Ben sighed as he shook his head. 

“Um, yes the fuck I will be!” Derek scoffed. “I don't understand how or why the fuck yoy would, but if you want Matt, he's all yours!”

“I would've said the same thing my first time,” the former CEO nodded. “Really, I would've. In fact, I probably did, but then…” he trailed off in a sigh he accompanied with another shake of his head. “Then I started missing it, it being the belly, and more specifically, it being packed full of Matt's babies.”

“Well you and I are not alike. Thank fucking God!” Derek huffed. 

“You think that now, but just you wait,” Whitman said as he turned and started making his way out again. 

He'd only made it a couple inches further before he came to another stop. As he hunched over his belly, Ben released a howl of pain so awful sounding, it practically lanced right through Derek's soul. The thirty-three year old grimaced at the sound, then grimaced at what he saw next: something quite sizable causing the seat of Whitman's sweats to tent. 

“Fuck!” He groaned. “They really do come faster each time!”

 “No shit…” Derek muttered, eyes widening, refusing to tear away from their target. 

“These babies want out, now. Sorry…”

“You literally can't help it,” he continued quietly. 

“Maybe you could… have your secretary, Tina?”

“Tammy.”

 “Right, maybe Tammy could call…”

Right on cue, Tammy burst into Derek's office, leaving the door open behind her. A crowd had gathered behind her outside and everyone was clamoring to see in. 

“Oh my god!” Tammy yelled. “Someone call an ambulance!”

 “One or two?”

 “Two to be safe!”

 “I'm fine, Tammy,” Derek assured her. 

“Two!” She yelled again. “And someone call the janitor! What's his name?!”

 “Matt,” Derek and Ben replied in unison, their gazes locking as the odd nature of their connection truly hit home. 

***

Derek was still in shock. Extra queer looks followed him as he left the building. 

Two heavily pregnant men in one industry? In one building? Rare as male pregnancy still was, it was completely implausible. 

And then there was Nick, the intern… Known cases of male pregnancy remained in the hundreds, possibly thousands, worldwide, so for there to be three of them in the same place at the same time?! 

People knew there had to be some sort of connection, but thankfully, because the situation was so outlandish, everyone had difficulty putting a finger on what the link could be. For now, much to his supposed “credit,” Matt, his various “schemes” and his addictive cock, remained unknown. 

Derek wasn't the only one who felt easy… Once they found out what was going on in the VP's office: former Micronacore CEO, Benjamin Whitman moaning, groaning and shouting as he pushed out baby after baby right there on the floor, leaned back against Derek's desk; they summoned the in-house legal team for an emergency meeting. 

Things were going well for CorpaCorp, thanks in (literally, increasingly large) part to Derek, and they wanted to keep them that way. Their pregnant man was A-OK with them, and the intern they'd hired? Well he hardly counted, leaving them not OK with him having some weird connection with a former corporate rival. Before Whitman had pushed out his third baby (of the last half hour,) Derek's bosses and the legal team were well on their way to “fixing” everything.

The first thing they decided on was to have security put the building on lockdown. No one was allowed in or out till they'd all signed nondisclosure agreements, promising that whatever and whoever they may've seen or heard today, remained secret. The process wasn't quick and Ben actually ended up finishing with his task before CorpaCorp did, despite the size and quantity of the most recent babies he'd delivered. 

There were five of them. In less than half an hour, Whitman delivered all of the plump babies, needing little to no assistance from the shocked and astonished EMTs. Ben asked for him and the five newborns to be taken home, but the EMTs insisted they be taken to the hospital to be examined. 

Once his office had been cleared, Derek remained inside despite the mess. He couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed: Ben clutching, panting, sweating and groaning as he pushed out baby after baby. He knew it was a sick look into his future. Hard as he tried, Derek couldn't stop replaying everything in his head, which left his hands clammy and his heart racing. 

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Matt asked as he entered the office pushing his cart, there to clean up the mess. His mess. Part of it, anyway. 

Per usual, he looked totally nonplussed. Derek glared at him. 

“You're a seriously sick fuck!” He spat. “Why'd you make him do that?! Why'd you make me have to see it?!”

The janitor shrugged his broad shoulders “Thought you would've liked a little preview of what's to come?”

With a loud grunt and a roll of his eyes, Derek heaved himself up and waddled out. 

Despite his better judgment, after cramming himself in the car, he didn't head home. Instead, he turned in the opposite direction and headed for the hospital. Why, he honestly had no idea?

After some fifteen minutes of arduous waddling, wheezing and bumping his belly into countless things and people, Derek found himself in the hospital's maternity Ward. It was littered with expectant women, all of whom looked downright tiny. Even though most appeared to be in labor, their bumps could all be described as “cute” and “little.” Silently resenting them, Derek waddled on till he found Whitman's room. 

“So you're… OK?” He asked breathlessly after dropping down into the rocking chair next to Ben's bed. 

The chair groaned as it rocked and squeezed his flanks, which unfortunately, was nothing new by now. Derek tried to keep the chair from rocking as he absent-mindedly rubbed the top of his giant belly. 

“I'm fine,” Whitman nodded. 

He was quiet and seemed a little out of it. He had to be exhausted. 

“Quints?” Derek asked, even though he already knew the answer. He was just making conversation. 

Ben nodded again as he looked over at the bassinets lining the far wall of the recovery room. “First set. Hopefully not the last…” he sighed. 

God. This guy was almost as insane and deranged as Matt! 

“Sorry for the spectacle, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do!” He went on with a weary laugh. “Good news is, I already heard from Matt.”

 “Did he call to congratulate you?” Derek grunted. 

“He texted to say he's happy and promised to come over as soon as I get home. I'd tell him to sneak in here, but even I'm not that crazy! Still, I can't wait for him to fuck me!”

Derek shuddered. He couldn't imagine wanting to be fucked right after pushing five big babies out of him?!

Hell… He couldn't imagine ever wanting to be fucked again. As soon as he birthed all “his” babies, Derek planned on either becoming celibate, or a top! 

“He always seems to do his best work when we do it right after I give birth. It must be all the hormones or something?” Ben shrugged as he continued to look at the quints.

The now very much more pregnant corporate executive couldn't believe what he was hearing?! Ben seriously had issues… Serious issues! Obviously, he needed help and surprisingly, Derek was willing to offer it.

“You should tell Matt to come here!” He huffed as he nodded. “And you should have the police here waiting for him!”

Ben's still flushed, chubby face broke into a smile as he turned and looked up at him. “Why would I have the police here waiting for Matt?”

 “To arrest him!”

“For what?” Ben laughed. “This was consensual!” He gestured to himself. “Has been for a long time now.”

Given all the chaos back at the office, it was only now as Whitman gestured at himself that Derek noticed something: his belly, which was tucked under a sheet and blanket, was still there. It was nowhere near as big as it'd been, but it was still quite prominent, making Ben look like he was at term with either one big baby, or a set of normal sized twins. 

It could've just been residual “baby weight,” but it also could've been more babies. Now is when Derek was about to find out if Whitman and Matt had told him the truth. His throat and mouth went dry. 

“Are you…” he slowly started to ask. “Are you still…”

Ben shoved the top sheet and blanket down, revealing his belly in all its remaining glory, still big enough that the hospital gown covering it was struggling to do so. With a smirk and a chuckle, he reached out and grabbed Derek's closest hand, placing it on his bump just to the side of his still huge belly button. 

He pressed Derek's hand down flat and held it there, seemingly waiting. The wait wasn't long… A moment later, Derek felt movement. Strong movement. 

“Pregnant? Yes,” Ben confirmed. “And hopefully come tomorrow, I'll be even more so!” He grinned. 

***

As much as he'd quickly come to fear giving birth after witnessing the event five times in a row, Derek still desperately wanted for it to happen to him. Even though he was now more scared than ever, he wanted it. 

He needed to get these babies out of him and try to get on with his life. Whatever remained of it…

CorpaCorp gave Derek a couple days off while his office was being “refurbished.” The day after Whitman caused his damage, while he knew where Matt was and what he was doing (Whitman,) Derek called Dr. Porter and arranged a “special” appointment. 

The thirty-three year old didn't tell the specialist much, other than he wanted to be seen as soon as possible, not only by him, but by any other “experts” he could quickly convene. Needless to say, Porter was intrigued. 

He promised to put a team together by the following morning. Derek told him he had until that night. He wanted to have his appointment under cover of darkness, to hopefully avoid any run-ins with paparazzi or other press. 

He was being hounded more and more every day. The “countdown” was on, everyone waiting for him to “pop” as he faced increasing scrutiny and suspicion. All the NDAs had worked… Fortunately, the press hadn't caught wind of Whitman, but that only left all the attention on Derek, and rightfully so. He was outlandishly enormous, after all. 

“I just don't understand it?” Porter sighed. “Do any of you?” He asked the team he'd assembled. “The induction drugs should be working, right?”

The assembled doctors, all nodded in puzzled agreement. Dr. Linbrook, Derek's primary, was there and he was even more puzzled than everyone else since he wasn't a specialist. He hadn't seen Derek in months and was therefore shocked when he entered the room and saw the thirty-three year old now. 

More thorough and rather violating exams were performed. Derek was tired. They'd been at this for over three hours and still nothing. 

“I don't think it would be safe to administer another dose,” one of the other specialists said. 

Everyone agreed. 

“So what… now?” Derek asked somewhat breathlessly despite the fact he was just lying there on the hospital bed, propped up by pillows. 

“We're still trying to figure that out, Derek,” Dr. Porter smiled and nodded, hoping he sounded reassuring and not unsure like he felt. “Things just… Well to be honest, they're just not adding up,” he said, raising his brows. 

“Derek…” Linbrook said. “Have you been… exposed to anything over the course of the pregnancy?” He asked. “Any unusual medications or drugs?” He “suggested.”

 Immediately, Derek's heart rate increased, enough to trigger the monitor, which Dr. Porter quickly silenced. 

“Not that I know of!” Derek lied, far too scared and mortified to come clean about what Matt was doing to him. 

He knew about doctor-patient confidentiality and under other, more normal circumstances, he would've had full faith in it, but not under these ones. Derek didn't even know what specific drugs he was on, just that he shouldn't have been. Whatever they all were, they'd obviously had the effect Matt had intended them to, but if they hurt the babies in the long run, then it would be Derek, their mother, who would be responsible. 

No one would understand why he'd “allowed” them. It was unlikely enough anyone would believe him! If he confirmed the use of drugs, it could turn into a really huge scandal… He'd probably get fired and maybe even jailed? The babies might even be taken away from him, which might not be the worst thing in the long run, but no. It wasn't worth the risks. 

“Why would you… even ask if I've been exposed to anything?” He scoffed when he realized everyone was still staring at him incredulously. 

“Only because this… situation is completely unprecedented,” Porter said. “Your babies are past ready to be born, Derek… Their combined weight and size are causing you a lot of stress, physically and emotionally,” he nodded. “Therefore, it's important you be as open and honest with us as possible. We're here to help.”

“Then make them come out!” Derek yelled. “I'll have a c-section!” He frantically nodded. 

“Derek, a male cesarean is still far too experimental and the extremely unique nature of your condition prevents you from being a candidate,” Dr. Porter said. “You, I… We…”

“The scans are inconclusive as to how many babies there actually are now, Derek,” Linbrook chimed in. “It's… I don't think any of us have ever seen anything like this!”

All the so-called specialists and experts present shook their heads in agreement. This appointment was not going as Derek had hoped. Not at all. Honestly, he should've known better than to have expected it to.”

“I'm putting you on bed rest, effective immediately,” Porter said. “I'm admitting you for observation while we all work to figure out what's preventing you from going into labor.”

“No!” Derek huffed. “I… No!”

As much as he would've loved to be, he couldn't be on bed rest. If he wasn't home or at work still pregnant, it would ruin him. Specifically, Matt would ruin him. Unlike Ben, Derek knew the janitor would follow through with his threats/promises, at least when it came to him. 

“I have to go,” the thirty-three year old said as he started pulling the countless sticky nods off his pregnancy. 

Linbrook and Porter tried to stop him. “That would be highly…” the latter started to say as he grabbed his closest arm. 

“Get off of me!” Derek shouted as he pulled away as best he could. “Just… Just let me go!” He begged. “Shit, you know where to find me!” He rolled his eyes as he genuinely struggled to get his feet off the side of the bed, his lower half having gone numb with his belly sitting heavily on, in and all over his lap and thighs for the last few hours. “Just figure something, ANYTHING out, and get back to me! Soon!” He pleaded.  

***

“Jesus, you're huge!”

It was pretty damn ironic to be hearing that from Benjamin Whitman of all people. The former CEO stood in his doorway, still quite heavily pregnant himself, with a chubby newborn strapped to his bloated front, sucking from his breasts. 

“Yeah…” Derek just barely managed to get out. 

This time, he'd taken an Uber to Whitman's, just like he did anywhere he needed to go now that he was too big to drive. Even if still could've managed to cram himself behind the wheel though, he wouldn't have because he was always so tired now. 

Exhausted, really. When he got dropped off and got out of the Uber, Derek felt like he'd waddled all the way to Ben's, not just the few paces up the rest of his driveway to the front door. 

It was Saturday and he didn't feel like seeing Matt (at least not yet,) so he'd called Ben to see if he'd still be willing to start “showing him the ropes.” Fortunately, the former CEO remained agreeable, because it was too late for Derek to start reading any of those “mommy and me” books and hope to get anything from them. Exhausted as he was, he needed to get some first-hand experience, stat. 

“Come in,” Ben said as he stepped back. “We'll go to the living room so you can sit and catch your breath.”

Very slowly and ponderously, Derek tottered forward. As soon as all of him was inside, he felt (but couldn't see) something hit his left shin. Almost immediately after, he felt something warm and sticky reach up and touch the right side of his almost half exposed belly. What he felt were children.

“Oh! Um..?” He laughed nervously, the mass and spread of his belly and breasts preventing him from seeing either of “the offenders.”

“Don't worry… Slow as you move, they'll get outta your way in time,” Ben said, not sounding at all concerned for the safety of two of his countless children. 

But as he slowly resumed his trek to the living room, Derek remained concerned, less than confident he wouldn't end up crushing an unseen child (or two or three,) so he tottered ahead extra cautiously. He tried to make it make sense by reminding himself that he was there to learn from Ben, who had a lot more experience than he did. If Whitman wasn't concerned, Derek knew he shouldn't have been either, but like too much else, that was easier said than done. 

As he followed the former CEO through his large house, the overly fecund thirty-three year old envied how easily the other man moved now. Derek knew Ben was still pregnant, but now, he was so much less encumbered, making him jealous. 

“Sit there,” Ben pointed to the closest end of the sectional, once they'd made it to the living room. 

The seat he pointed to was notably, deeply compressed. 

“That's Mommy's special seat,” Whitman explained as Derek eyed it. 

Ben was Mommy. At the moment though, Derek was more of a “mommy,” at least in terms of how pregnant he was, and therefore got his/her seat. Ugh…

“You're gonna have to… tell me if the… coast's clear?” He panted as he feebly looked back at the sectional over his left shoulder after positioning himself in front of it. “Don't wanna… squish… anyone.”

“Coast is clear,” Whitman confirmed with a chuckle. “Sit when you're ready, then take your shirt off while I go get you something to drink.”

“Take my…” Derek started to question but didn't have the air or energy to finish, especially knowing he still had to get his huge ass down onto the sectional. 

Once he was seated but before he leaned back for some much needed support, he peeled off his sweaty tee and set it next to him. Since he was outgrowing everything so quickly, Derek hadn't invested much in casual wear as of late. Instead, he spent way too much trying to keep himself (mostly) covered and contained at work, where it mattered more. 

At home, which was pretty much the only other place he could be found when not at CorpaCorp, it didn't matter how much of his disturbing fecundity he showed. If and when Matt was around, the maintenance worker usually insisted on him showing it all off, anyway. 

So, yeah… “Keeping it casual,” hadn't been much of a concern, but now that he was somewhat “out in public,” it was. It was also too late… With Derek's belly more than filling his lap, its furthest point extending beyond his knees and its sides beyond his “waist,” it looked like he wasn't wearing bottoms, his strained shorts completely hidden from view. Up top, things were only slightly better… 

His huge, fat and heavy tits, now each the size of a volleyball, were only somewhat contained by his biggest, mostly recently purchased bandeau. Big as it was, his breasts were still about to burst free from it because try as he might, Derek just couldn't keep up with the necessary pumping any more. 

His sister Amy's “thoughtful” present had ended up being a blessing and a curse… As soon as he started using it, Derek experienced a great and much needed release of pressure, but using the pump only further encouraged his milk production. As a result, his giant breasts now constantly throbbed with the need to release, and leaked and dribbled relentlessly when they weren't being tended to. 

Fuck Matt for being right again. No, seriously, fuck him. 

The thirty-three year old, begrudging daddy-to-be awkwardly shifted, groaning as he started to slowly lean back, only to rapidly end up pinned to the sectional by all the weight and mass in front of and atop him. Derek's belly was now much wider than the rest of him, to the point he couldn't come close to encircling it with his arms and hands, no matter how hard he tried. 

When was his belly and the rest of him going to stop growing? When and how was this insane pregnancy going to end?! Derek honestly didn't care about the how anymore, just the when, because he so fucking needed it to be soon!

As Ben returned to the living room with a large bottle of water, Derek stared at his exposed breasts and the large newborns suckling from them. He hated to admit it, but that was going to be him soon, to a degree, anyway… Nursing and caretaking, like some woman. He internally cringed at the thought. 

But there was something to sort of look forward to… Kind of, maybe? Presuming CorpaCorp let him keep his job, or some new variant of it, at least he'd have to return to the corporate workforce in some capacity…

If CorpaCorp let him go, unless Derek won the lottery, which he hadn't bothered playing in months, given his “luck” as of late, he'd need to find another job. If he'd be able to, remained to be determined because if he was let go, it was just as likely he'd end up blacklisted in one way or another, for previously being such a fertile freak. 

Blackmailed and blacklisted?! Fuck you, Matt… Fuck you, very much. 

Regardless of what eventual outcome he faced, in many ways, Derek was glad he'd be forced to return to the workforce. Not that he saw himself doing do, but being forced to stay in the corporate environment would only further prevent him from fully transitioning into some ceaselessly fertile, mindlessly addicted to breeding, mother of a “man,” like Benjamin Whitman. 

This was little to no consolation for all he'd faced (and continued to,) but at least it was something. 

A few of Derek's biggest babies chose that moment to once again, needlessly remind him of their extended presence. He groaned loudly and couldn't help but painfully arch his already strained back as his massive middle suddenly rather violently lurched. Immediately, Derek's hands flew to it and frantically started to rub. 

“OoooOooh, fuuuuuuck!!!” He whined. 

He hated how pathetic he sounded, almost as much as he hated how pathetically he felt. Had he located one big enough and had he actually been capable of doing so, Derek would've crawled down a hole and never come out again. 

Whitman let out a quiet grunt as he handed over the water. “God… He really did a number on you!” He said with a shake of his head. 

He didn't sound wary or concerned… He sounded almost jealous. Derek couldn't fathom why?

“How often were you or are you letting him, you know..?” Whitman asked, wagging his brows. 

Derek didn't bother answering for a couple reasons. One, because the answer was so (literally) painfully obvious. The second reason was because he was too damn busy huffing and puffing, trying to get him and Matt's rabid babies to calm the fuck down. Now that his left hand was holding the water bottle he continued to rub up, down and all around what he could reach of his massive pregnancy with his right. 

There was no give whatsoever. Derek was packed full. So full that now, more often than not, he wished he would actually burst! 

His life was close to being in complete shambles, with no sign of things getting any better, anytime soon. All things were going to do was get even more different and undoubtedly, more daunting and challenging. 

It seemed so insignificant to even think so anymore, but it just wasn't fair… He wasn't that bad of a person. Shit. 

Derek hadn't spoken to his brother or parents in months. He could only imagine what they thought of him now… Honestly though, he no longer cared. 

Good or bad, Amy was still around, but things were changing with her as well. Recently, she seemed almost as worried and concerned about everything as her older, now much bigger brother. She wasn't as happy and excited as she'd once been, and Derek didn't blame her. How could he?

He was little more than a freakishly productive baby and milk factory now, overloaded with countless, overgrown children, past ready to be born, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Without a doubt, Matt had him by the balls. Balls Derek hadn't been able to see or adequately reach himself in months. Months… 

“Matt…” He sighed in utter defeat. “He has it out for me.”

“Or maybe he just really, really likes you?” Whitman countered, definitely sounding jealous this time. 

Even though doing so hadn't done any good in awhile, Derek still hoped like hell that Matt didn't like him, and once he stopped getting knocked up with more of his babies and had finally birthed them all, the janitor would be done with him and move onto his next victim, and/or back to Ben being his most “prized pet.”

 God knows Ben would absolutely love that, the poor guy…

***

A couple minutes later, just as Derek's biggest babies began to calm down and he was finally starting to catch his breath, one of Ben's nannies entered the room pushing the biggest stroller the thirty-three year old had ever seen. As soon as he did, Derek groaned, knowing he was going to need a couple of them, as well as a nanny or two, himself. 

Fuck. 

The mid-twenties something nanny's eyes bulged as they landed on Derek, but only for a second. The sight of him apparently wasn't so shocking after having worked for Ben Whitman however long she had, but that hardly made Derek feel any better…

“So…” Ben said quietly as he and the nanny began swapping babies. “Something told me you'd be a little flustered when you arrived,” he chuckled. “So while you continue to cool off and catch your breath, I figured we could work on feeding,” he said as he worked on strapping the second “new” baby into the carrier he was wearing, and then guided its mouth to his/its nipple. 

Derek stared blankly at Ben. “You want me to work on feeding?”

 The former CEO nodded. “Now go ‘head and roll your top down,” he said as he lumbered over, nanny following close behind with her loaded stroller. 

Derek continued to stare in disbelief. “You want me to feed your babies?!”

 Whitman nodded again. “It's important you know how to!”

“Unfortunately, I agree!” The thirty-three year old grunted. “But I think I've already got the gist of it!”

“There's no reason to be embarrassed, Derek!” Ben tutted. “It's totally natural!” He nodded again. 

“The hell it is! It's…”

“Breast is best, Mr. Carter!” Ben cut back in. “If I could, I'd breastfeed everyone, but not only am I not as endowed as you are, I have too many mouths to feed!” He sighed before turning to the nanny and requesting, “Can you hand me the wipes please, Chelsea?”

The nanny quickly ducked and reached under the stroller for a fresh pack. She handed it over to her boss, who tore it open and then handed it to Derek. 

“You said feeding, not diaper changing…” the fecund VP frowned as he reluctantly accepted the pack. 

“We'll work on diaper changing later, after you're less engorged,” Ben replied. “You're welcome for that, but don't get used to it,” he shook his head. “Anyway, for the moment, the wipes are for you. It's important to keep yourself clean,” he nodded. 

“Come on, Ben. I…”

“What's the problem?” Ben exhaled. “I know Matt, and I know he has an affinity for breast milk, so I know he's been…”

“Yeah, yeah!” Derek cut him off. “But that's different! That's…”

“It is different,” Whitman conceded. “Matt knows what he's doing, babies don't, at least not at first,” he shook his head. “You're in luck ‘cause these two are still learning,” he said as he tottered out of Chelsea's way so she could hand Derek the third “new” baby, the first of which he was apparently going to feed. “Now get that silly top out of the way and hurry up and wipe off before he starts to cry!”

Derek groaned as he moved his hands to the top of the bandeau and slowly pulled it down, fully revealing his huge, leaky tits. 

“I can't believe I'm doing this!” He grumbled as he grabbed a couple wipes and set to work cleaning himself. 

“You better start believing and then get used to it!” The former CEO replied with a knowing wink and chuckle. 

A minute or so later, well before he was ready, Derek had a (big) newborn in the crook of each arm and was holding them gently against the taut, swollen sides of his belly. He looked down at the babies as they suckled from him and shook his head in disbelief. 

As it turned out, feeding babies was indeed different than feeding Matt and/or pumping. The suction their tiny mouths produced was much more gentle than that of the janitor or Derek's breast pump, but it still relieved the pressure within his overloaded chest, making it notably more bearable (for the time being.)

For the next hour and a half, Derek fed baby after baby. He had no idea “who was who,” and didn't really care, but after the first two, Ben's kids started ranging in size and age. The biggest Whitman he fed was about two and a half, and boy oh boy, could he suck. He could also nibble, but not with finesse like Matt sometimes could. 

Some halfway in, Derek lost count of how many mouths he fed, but knew it was only a fraction of Ben's hungry children. 

“Feeling a little better?” He asked as he took the last child, a girl, probably about a year old, from Derek. 

The (for now) bigger preggo nodded as he reached again for the baby wipes. He'd gone through quite a few between kids. “Definitely less tight,” he said as he wiped his left breast and nipple off one last time. “Up here, anyway,” he groused. 

“Good!” Whitman smirked down at him. “That'll make what's next easier.”

“Diaper changing?” Derek asked less than enthusiastically as he pulled his bandeau back in place, noting as he did that it fit much better now and he wasn't soaking through it. 

“Yes, but first, you need to get up.”

 He groaned. “Do I have to?”

Ben nodded. “Big as your belly is, it wouldn't make a good changing table. I've never been as big as you, yet, but I've tried and it doesn't work,” he shook his head. “Need a hand?”

 Derek sighed. “I just need a minute.”

 He ended up needing closer to three. That's how long it took to work up the willpower and physical strength to get off the sectional. 

“OK…” he exhaled one he'd put his shirt back on which thankfully had dried during the feedings. “I'm ready,” he unenthusiastically declared. 

“Follow me,” Whitman said as he tottered off. 

They ended up in what was meant to be the home office, but since making babies was Ben's job now, he'd converted it into a baby changing factory. There were changing tables lining each wall, spaced out by small cabinets that contained all the necessary supplies. As Chelsea returned with more children, Ben gave Derek a lay of the land, as well as some suggestions as to how he could keep his changing room well supplied, organized and clean. 

But Derek wasn't going to have a changing room, just a single changing station. That would suffice. At least that's what he told himself. 

“I've never changed a diaper before,” he said as he gently held one of Whitman's youngest children in place atop the changing table next to him. 

“Chelsea will tell you what to do,” Ben said over his shoulder, already working on his second diaper of what looked like it was going to be a marathon session. 

“But I can't even get close to the table!” Derek said, looking between the table and his belly. 

“Gonna have to work over and around yourself,” Whitman replied. “It's awkward at first, but you'll get the hang of it.”

It took awhile but eventually, Derek did. On his fourth diaper, he finally felt confident and Chelsea didn't have to physically help or tell him what to do.

He felt oddly proud. Before he realized it, Derek was smiling. As soon as he did, he made himself stop. There was nothing smile-worthy about this, it was just necessary. 

By his eighth diaper change, the thirty-three year old was ready for a break. His back, hips, legs and feet were all killing him and he needed to use the bathroom. Derek told Ben all of the above, only to be told to “keep going,” and “power through.”

“You'll be just fine,” the former CEO assured from the other side of the room. “Gotta remember, it's not all about you anymore.”

 Derek didn't need to be reminded of that. Nothing had been about him, at least not in any way he wanted it to be, for months now. He still groaned anyway. 

Finally, after eleven changes, Ben said he could take his break. As he took the last baby Derek had changed, he pointed him in the direction of the nearest bathroom and said he'd meet him back in the living room after. 

A sore and tired Derek nodded and slowly wobbled off to relieve himself. 

Five minutes later, he tottered back into the living room feeling slightly lighter. Already though, his chest felt hot and increasingly tight, hard at work producing more milk. Without countless actual children to feed, Derek knew he was going to be crazy engorged later. 

“So…” Ben said from his perch on the sectional. “Thoughts? Comments?”

 Derek didn't reply till he'd plopped down on the far end of the long piece of furniture. “It's… a lot!” He exhaled. 

“And there's still so much more…” Ben shook his head. “There's putting them down, changing their clothes, making meals for the older ones and feeding them. The list goes on.”

 “And on, and on, and on…” the thirty-three year old groaned as he stroked his belly. 

Legally speaking, he had some eighteen-ish years ahead of him. Presuming he fucking stopped having them, Derek would be fifty-one by the time his youngest child was considered an adult, but that didn’t mean he’d be able to “retire” from his job as dad/mom/whatever the hell he was going to be called… Being a parent was a lifelong job, which is why Derek hadn’t wanted to accept the position, especially not in such a manner. 

He looked over at Ben and shook his head. “At least I won’t end up with as many as you,” he sighed before adding, “No offense.”

Whitman wasn’t offended, nor was he convinced Derek was telling the truth. Smartly he chose to keep this latter bit to himself.

“Do you think you’re gonna get help?” He asked, somewhat changing the subject. 

“I’ll have to,” Derek nodded. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to make do with just one nanny but probably not since eventually, I’ll be going back to work.”

“Full-time?”

He nodded again. “God knows I’ll need the money and the health insurance!” He rolled his eyes. 

“That’s the one thing I wish I had…” Ben replied. “Health insurance through work, ‘cause getting it privately is just astronomical!” He rolled his eyes this time. “And just so you know… Good nannies aren’t cheap,” he warned. 

The daddy-to-be grunted. “So I’ve seen!”

“You’ve been looking?”

“Just preliminarily. Contacted a few agencies electronically, but haven’t had any serious interactions yet.”

“Let me set you up with who I found Chelsea and Diane through,” Whitman offered. 

“I’d appreciate that. God…” Derek suddenly groaned. “I just need to stop letting Matt fuck me! I can’t handle any more babies” He shook his head. “But you know! When you’re with him, even when you don’t want it to, it just feels so fucking…”

“Good. Yeah, I know,” Ben chuckled. “Especially when you’re nice and ripe. It’s especially addicting then,” he said knowingly. 

He was right. Abso-fucking-lutely right. Derek hated to agree, but he nodded again. 

“Wanna hear something funny?” Whitman asked. 

“Will I actually think it’s funny?”

“I know for sure you’ll find it ironic,” he chuckled. “Anyway, before this…” he said as he gestured at himself. “And all of this,” he gestured around the room. “I was a total top.” 

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked from his pregnancy to Whitman. “You were?” 

Simple as it was, given how many children he had, how many more he still wanted, and how he had them, the idea was almost too preposterous to believe. Ben Whitman a total top?! 

“I was,” the former CEO nodded. “Till Matt came along, I was always the one doing the fucking.”

With a low grunt, Derek sat forward as much as he could. What he'd just heard was intriguing enough to make the almost pointless effort worth it, even as his tits came very close to touching his chin. 

“So topping's never really been my thing,” he shook his head. “So in a sense, as much as I hate to say it, me, I get,” he conceded. “But you..? Why the total change?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“To try something new, I guess?” Ben shrugged, breasts bobbling. “As much as I loved, and still do love topping, I always wanted to give bottoming a go, I just never met the right guy till Matt?” He shrugged again. 

“What made him the right guy?” 

“He was the first to ask if he could top me?” He shrugged a third time. 

“Shit…” Derek grunted. “Wow, I… Well…”

“Surprise!” Ben chuckled. 

“Really!” He huffed. “I take it you don't get the opportunity to top much anymore?”

“Pretty much never,” Whitman frowned. “I couldn't even tell you the last time,” he sighed as he shook his head, obviously disappointed. 

“Shit!” Derek grunted out again. “After this!” He said as he looked down and out at himself. “I might make a total switch too!” He rolled his eyes before letting his gaze land back on Whitman, who was quick to clarify, 

“While a few years ago, I was a total top, despite everything, I still don't consider myself a total bottom,” he shook his head. “So, if you're ever interested…” he trailed off. 

“Yeah..?” The still intrigued thirty-three year old raised his brows as he sat back, already in need of some additional back support again, even though Whitman's nice but heavily used, and therefore abused, sectional didn't offer all that much. 

“Even though you were right there when I last gave birth, in your office!” Whitman winked at Derek, who internally cringed at the recollection of that “momentous” day's events. “In my book, you and I are still just starting to get to know one another,” he nodded. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Derek nodded back. 

“We're already connected now,” Ben went on. “Our children share a so-called father,” he rolled his eyes this time. “They're biologically related.”

“I never thought about it like that till now, but yeah,” Derek agreed. “You're right.”

“So what if you and I became more intimately related?” The much richer, slightly older and now notably less pregnant man suggested. “I know you're trying to avoid more… interactions with Matt, and I also know from experience, how horny you are now,” he nodded again. “Or at least I can imagine, since I've yet to be as big as you are, but anyway… If you're interested, I'd be down.”

“Down to fuck?” Derek asked for clarification, even though the implication couldn't have been much clearer. 

“Yes, down to fuck. DTF…” Ben chuckled. “We could kill two birds with one stone, annnnnd…” he trailed off. “I'll admit it's been a minute, but I've been told I'm pretty good!” He winked again. 

“That's good to know,” the thirty-three year old smirked and winked back. “Lemme… I'll think about it,” he nodded, not thinking he ever actually would, because Ben was right…

The two of them were in the process of coming to terms with their and their children's unusual (as well as unorthodox and unfortunate) connection. They were maybe on their way to becoming friends, but to become fuck buddies.?!

The last time Derek had gone down what he thought was going to be that path, he'd ended up where he currently was, somewhere just short of disaster. 

Ben nodded again. “No pressure on my part,” he assured. “Just another offer to help!” He smirked. 

“I appreciate it, but honestly..? I should be swearing off sex all together!” Derek huffed. “Look where it got me!” 

“You?!” Whitman laughed. “Look where it got me!” He threw his hands up in another, this time more exaggerated shrug. “But now that I'm here, I wouldn't change it for the world!”