Prologue: An Urge to Procreate

Rachel had just graduated from a womens' college and moved to Boston to start her career. For the first time in four years, she was around men. Rachel's strong instincts to educate herself and breed had been in conflict since she entered adolescence, but the superego (and parental pressure) had gotten the better of her in deciding where to matriculate.

The id was not only expressed in her urge to be constantly pregnant. Her body displayed signs of extraordinary fertility, principally in the wideness of her hips and narrowness of her waist. Her hips and ass expanded so violently upon hitting puberty that white stretch marks now striped their expanse, running vertically up her love handles, horizontally on the small of her back, inward down her thick thighs, and arcuately along the contours of her 44" booty. Rachel believed that her junk in the trunk served an evolutionary purpose as a fat store to nourish life growing in her womb. In contrast to her thick lower half, Rachel's waist was only 26", giving her a waist to hip ratio of 0.59, unheard of among mortal men.

Although Rachel fantasized about her womb ballooning outward to match her booty's circumference, she was still somewhat insecure about her 5'4", 130 lb. body. It was annoying but arousing when she misjudged the position of a corner of a table and bruised her sashaying hips, or when the tables were too close at a restaurant, so that when she squeezed out between her chair and the person behind her, her booty would flow over the back of their chair, brushing against their back. She also had contradictory feelings about having to jump up and down to pull up her jeans and the inches-wide gap left between her midriff and the back of the jeans. All of her pants had an inconveniently short lifetime, because the chafing of her thighs would turn the inner pant legs threadbare in a few months. Her strained panties were always visible through the skin tight fabric cradling her butt, adding another second to the indiscreet double takes of men walking by.

Most embarrassingly for Rachel was the inadequate size of her boobs. While the bottoms of her shirts were stretched out of shape from being pulled down continuously over her shelf ass, their chests flowed amorphously over her perky but insubstantial 32", B cup boobs. How was she supposed to feed the sets of multiples she hoped to birth when her mammaries could hold only a few ounces at a time? To cure this deficit, Rachel secretly hoped to pass through the first trimester and its miraculous natural boob job as many times as were needed to inflate her boobs to at least a 38E.

Rachel's beautiful face won over any man who was not drawn to her voluptuous pear-shaped frame, and she was quite content with her visage. Her pale eyes emanated a turquoise light. Her nose was the perfect median; strawberry lips capped her delicate mouth. Golden waves of hair flowed down to her shoulders, framing a small head that by contrast accentuated the enormity of her hips.

This was the fertility goddess who arrived in Boston fresh out of a nunnery in rural New York. Rachel hoped that she could establish herself in a job before her id ran amok, but a corner of her brain hoped that she could immediately find a mate and begin breeding.

Very nice start. Looking forward to the breeding!

DA

Chapter 1: A Serendipitous Match

A chemistry major, Rachel lined up an internship with a Harvard biochemistry professor developing on an experimental alternative to Clomid. She was immediately assigned to work on drug synthesis under a brilliant but absent-minded postdoc. The work was exciting for a few weeks, with breakthroughs in product yield from the organic synthesis.

Rachel had little time to cook for herself and was hungry at the end of the day. After work, she would head over to a buffet where she could consume enough calories to "keep the booty big," in her own words. Unexpectedly, few men hit on her in her isolated daily routine. Most of the science students were hopelessly introverted, and well over half were Asian. She had virtually no attraction to men with a halting command of English and was not about to start asking out slouched nerds hiding in the hallway shadows. The most forthcoming suitors were older, professorial types, who would approach her on the street in the blatant expectation that she was a typically ambitious Harvard co-ed who would trade anything for access to the privileged sphere of pompous academia. These goateed men with round, black glasses repulsed Rachel.

At about the time she started getting bored of her new routine, she was making a salad at her favorite buffet when a handsome man a handful of years older than her commented on her crouton to salad ratio.

"Are you putting raisins and bacon bits on there, too? At what point does it stop being a salad?"

Rachel was taken aback by this unexpected exclamation. "I'm going to douse it in Thousand Island until it becomes unrecognizable. Look at your salad, though. It's a bunch of green peppers and not much else. Doesn't a salad require a solid bed of lettuce?"

"No one likes lettuce. It's just filler for the toppings."

"Well that's why people use spinach nowadays."

"I would eat spinach if it didn't have the name spinach... Spinach. Popeye helped spinach, but it needs a big media campaign, like Dr. Dre's Beatz. I've been seeing a lot of people eating beets recently."

"Yeah, the beet lobby had a real coup with that one."

"Hey, are you sitting with anybody? Cause my phone is dead, so I don't have myself to be antisocial with. I'm Jacob, by the way."

Rachel quickly learned that Jacob had gone to Harvard for a PhD in 19th century European history, but had stopped at his Masters after concluding that the only possible career path in academia was writing about the pivotal but previously unrecognized role of minorities, women, and homosexuals in every historical development from the spinning jenny to the October Revolution. Instead, in the last year, he had pursued other passions, including the development of a type of logical puzzle that had been instantly picked up by major newspapers across the globe. What Rachel didn't learn immediately was that the rights to this puzzle, and all the books of these puzzles now being sold at airport gift shops, had made Jacob a millionaire.

After a few weeks of dating, Rachel and Jacob realized they were perfectly compatible and started exploring the bounds of what the other would tolerate in sex. Jacob started fondling her thick love handles while pounding her on top and noticed that this turned her on. He then started sucking at her nipples more, which made her groan. She soon acceded to doggy style, and he would graze his fingernails across her corrugated expanse of stretch marks. Each thrust sent a shock wave rippling through her mottled booty. He thought how absurdly narrow her upper body looked from his perspective, how his dick would have trouble reaching her vagina if her booty got much bigger. His hands would grab fistfuls of her thick hips or fondle her clit and nipples as she pressed her head into the bed, trying to suppress the discomfort of having a stupendously thick, foot-long dick probing her deepest recesses. Jacob and Rachel used contraception as they built trust, and Jacob was fine with it because his dick would stay hard enough at the sight of Rachel that there was no shot clock counting down as he fumbled with the condom wrapper.

After a month, they started talking more liberally as their fuck sessions got longer.

"Jacob, tell me what turns you on about me."

Jacob responded with a quality in Rachel for every one of his thrusts. "Well, your crystalline eyes, and your sculpted nose, and your feminine arms, and your perky boobs, and your narrow waist, and your, um, your fertile booty..."

"Fertile?" Rachel responded with a sudden glean in her eye. "What do you mean fertile?"

"Well, fertile like an Olympian goddess, I guess..."

"So good for getting knocked up, you mean."

"Um, I guess... But that's a quality that's inherently attractive to men."

"So would you like it if it was your seed that knocked me up?"

Rachel felt Jacob's dick swell inside her.

"I wouldn't want it to be someone else's!"

Rachel laughed. "You know the best way to prevent someone else from knocking me up? For you to keep me knocked up as long as I'm fertile."

Jacob's dick started leaking pre-cum inside her. "I would love to keep you pregnant."

"Oh, my belly will be so big. And my boobs will be leaking with milk..." Rachel moaned, and she came.

Jacob suddenly knew that she also had a thing for pregnancy and shot his load.

You have a very unique writing style. Excellent read so far can't wait to see her start expanding.

Chapter 2: Long Laid Plans

Rachel and Jacob were banging like rabbits after learning of each others' fetishes. The sexual storytelling became elaborate, with breeding epics unfolding over multiple sessions. In one, the lovers alternated describing the changes to Rachel's body as the months of her imaginary twin pregnancy passed, and in the next, they documented the changes week by week through a triplet pregnancy to 41 weeks.

"I can't take this anymore, Jake. I'm horny all the time from this 24/7 fantasy and need to get knocked up in real life. Your puzzle is paying all the bills -- I think we can afford it."

"But one pregnancy isn't going to be enough. I want you to be pregnant nonstop until it's no longer possible."

"Of course! But I want it now! And I don't want a surrogate. I want it to be from you."

"Well, we can afford a house, and we can afford live-in assistance as our family grows. Let's go for broke -- you know our fantasy about using the Ovextra from the lab? Why don't you start stockpiling it so that we can breed big litters."

The infertility drug being developed in Rachel's lab had recently been tested on mice, with shocking results. The drug was too effective, increasing the fertilization rate by hundreds of percent, and causing an average litter size of 12 in the test subjects, compared to the normal average of 7. As other members of her lab worked out kinks in the drug, her boss switched her to another project, an experimental drug to prevent preterm labor.

"As long as I stockpile Ovextra, I should also bring home Duragest to keep my pregnancies long, healthy and huge!"

Rachel and Jacob were in a hallucinatory state of mind. Despite the concerns of their parents, they married in a private ceremony less than six months after meeting. Rachel was smuggling drugs under the nose of her absent-minded postdoc supervisor, oblivious to the multiple felonies she was committing. They were frequenting their favorite buffet to fatten Rachel up for breeding, and her ample ass had expanded another inch to 45", and her soft belly was becoming tight against her skinny jeans. Her boobs were feeling constrained in their bra, and Jacob was excitedly observing their increasing heft.

The week before their target for ending the use of prophylactics, they moved into a large two-story house bought with the unexpected millions coming in from Jacob's puzzle. Rachel's upcoming pregnancies factored into their choice -- figuring that she could very well become immobile with multiples, they purchased a house with a first-floor master bedroom. They also bought a minivan to accommodate the first batch of offspring.

Their basement refrigerator was overflowing with smuggled drugs. Rachel had been synthesizing her own batches in the lab with no notice from any of the other busy lab rats. She had begun taking the drug every morning, and was so anxious to be pregnant as soon as they started trying that she doubled the mass-adjusted dosage that had been given to the mice. The thought of growing a heavy litter in her belly, expanding day by day, could derail Rachel into a masturbatory haze of rubbing her clit and fondling her boobs, which she imagined would soon balloon with copious milk.

The day finally arrived. Rachel and Jacob had settled in their house, and they had enough drugs frozen to last the next 20 years assuming Rachel would be pregnant three-quarters of the time. They planned for up to 40 offspring, assuming an average load of two. The escalating cost of this endeavor spurred Jacob to develop other puzzles and games, which had promising preliminary sales. A week after they consummated their plan, Rachel took the fateful test. Of course it was positive.

Wow! Waiting for next chapter

this is an incredible start. would love to see where this leads. I love stories like these.

Great start, by all means keep it coming

Chapter 3: Keeping up with the Jones's

Jacob and Rachel moved to a secluded house with a big lot on a wooded dead end because they anticipated needing lots of space for their massive brood. Their only neighbors on the cul-de-sac, Leah and Bob Jones, took immediate notice of the young, childless couple, finding it interesting that they would purchase a new minivan.

"Bob, we should invite Rachel and Jacob over. Why would they buy a big house and a van unless they're Godly people planning to fill their quiver? Since they're new to the area, we could introduce them to the Quiverfull community."

Leah and Bob mirrored Rachel and Jacob in many ways. The Jones's were a young, wealthy couple who had recently moved to the cul-de-sac because of the advantages it afforded for raising a large family. Bob's father was a prominent televangelist who practiced what he preached, raising seven religious sons and daughters. Quiverfull was not a prominent movement at the time Bob was growing up, but its growing recognition due to the Duggars dovetailed with Bob's secret sexual desires. He sought out a daughter of a Quiverfull clan, knowing that she would be brainwashed into breeding like a rabbit, fulfilling his lust for a perpetually pregnant spouse. Although the Duggars pretend that Quiverfull courtships must be chaperoned and supervised, in reality, the chaos of caring for legions of offspring precludes monitoring the dates of 21-year-old daughters, especially when they are pursued by the son of a respected preacher. The lack of supervision made the courting period tolerable for Bob; although they abstained from consummation, the couple perfected the art of edging.

Leah's body was the yin to Rachel's yang. Leah's center of gravity lay somewhere in her boobs, which swung pendulously below her ribcage when unconfined. When her cantaloupe size breasts were stuffed into their 36H cups, they hung perilously from her body, seeming to defy gravity. If Leah walked faster than a deliberate gait, her jiggling knockers threatened to detach from her body. At a brisk pace, the pulsating flesh in her bra would heave up out of its confines, occasionally brushing her chin. Leah was convinced that she was blessed with giant boobs in order to fulfill her holy mission. She hoped that pregnancy would round out the backside of her 5'3", 140 lb. frame, which was abnormally flat compared to her curvaceous chest. Her measurements, taken the day the new neighbors moved in, and the day she discovered that she was pregnant with her first, were 45-30-32.

Rachel heard the doorbell. "Hey Jacob, can you answer the door?"

Jacob saw his new neighbors standing at the door. He had only met them the other day and thought it was nice of them to be neighborly, unlike every other neighbor in America.

"Hi Leah! Hi Bob! Nice to see you again!"

After a few platitudes and inviting them over for dinner, Leah got down to business.

"So Jacob, we couldn't help but notice that you got a van. We're planning on getting one soon as well."

Jacob's ears perked up. "Oh, why do you need one?"

"We just found out that I'm expecting!"

"How exciting! Congratulations!" Jacob leaned in to give her a hug, which was somewhat awkward with the bowling balls in the way. "We're also planning on expanding our family."

"I can't wait to have a passel running around the house," Leah responded. "That's why we moved out here."

Jacob's dick swelled at the sound of passel.

Leah continued. "Our kids can have so much fun growing up together! You should meet some other young families in the area. Would you like to come to our church this weekend?"

Although Jacob wasn't religious, part of his brain was intrigued. "Sounds like fun! I'm sure Rachel would like to go as well."

There were few signs that Heritage Church was not an ordinary church. Even the large number of vans in the parking lot would not look out of place at many suburban churches. As Rachel and Jacob parked on Sunday morning, they were therefore astounded to see a 15-passenger van pull up and unload 15 occupants.

Rachel's mouth was agape. "Is this... a Duggar church? In Massachusetts?"

The service was kept short due to the hectic nature of the teeming congregation. Jacob's hard-on eventually died down after he got used to every second woman of child-bearing age being visibly pregnant. It also helped that most of them dressed modestly. Pride of place in the congregation seemed to go to the parents with the most offspring. A family of 17 occupied the front bench of the sanctuary.

After the service, Leah introduced Rachel and Jacob to some of the other families.

"After number 10, I had to use IVF to get pregnant," said one 34-year-old woman swollen with twins. Her monochromatic, floor length dress was almost a foot higher off the ground in the front than in the back. Her milk jugs draped heavily on either side of her belly, appearing as if they were about to slide off, the dress tucked between her oblong belly and bag-like udders. "I can't imagine a year off from this," she continued, slowly rubbing the upper expanse of her belly.

"So IVF is acceptable in the Quiverfull community?" Rachel asked.

"The more miracles the better! It doesn't matter how they're conceived, they still come from my husband and me."

On the way home, Jacob was brimming with ideas. "If they aren't adverse to IVF, isn't it be logical for them to embrace bigger broods, through any means? Wouldn't they love Ovextra? We could probably put it in the water at a Quiverfull banquet, and they'd think it's a miracle that all the women get knocked up with litters."

Although it seemed like a fantastical idea, Rachel and Jacob's line between fantasy and reality had become blurred. "Jake, it'd be like we're doing them a favor."

dang, did this story just die out? It was getting pretty good.