Not Kyle Ch. 03: Emily’s Dilemma

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This is the continued saga found in Not Kyle and Not Kyle 2: Brandon to the Rescue.

If this is the first of the series you have read, please go read one of the first two, as this story is not designed to stand alone.


“Okay, another big push.” The doctor said.

I bore down, hoping that this one was it. I felt the burning breaking in my groin I vaguely recalled from my first birth, but it didn’t go all the way through.

“I see her head. You’re doing good, just a couple more good pushes and it will be over with.” The doctor said.

I grunted. My first child had been so much more cooperative. This one was being stubborn. I felt another contraction, and I bore down with it. The doctor said something, no doubt something encouraging. She was entirely too damn jolly. The pressure in my groin intensified, the heat increasing as I moved my new child a few more millimeters through me. She felt heavier than Iness had down below. I was sure she was going to be monsterous. I felt another contraction. I gripped my heart pendant and pushed again. I felt my pelvis crack open on the inside front as the painfully hot pinching stretch of my vagina increased.

Kyle grabbed my hand and petted it. I gave his hand a quick squeeze in appreciation. He was going to put a other of these in me as soon as he could. I hoped this one broke my hips open to make the next come out quicker. It wasn’t so much passing the kid through my birth canal that hurt, that was mostly heat and pressure with a little pinching. What hurt was the backtwistingly painful contractions of my muscles forcing a watermelon through a keyhole. The doctor continued to yammer while I focused on bringing another life into the world. I felt another contraction coming. I squeezed my tiny heart charm as I bore down with everything I had. The cracks in my pelvis widened, and then broke high left and mid right. I knew nothing was actually breaking , but it felt like it. Actually it felt more like cracking knuckles. Like an unpleasant bubblewrap. Not really painful, only uncomfortable. Except for the soreness and heat of the stretching. And the contractions. The gutwrenching contractions bending every bone in my lower back. It was the contractions that were killing me. The pain suffering through them was a reminder to me, that for good or ill, I belonged to Kyle. But I knew from experience that the contractions didn’t hurt as much once the baby was forced out. It was up to me to end my pain.

Another contraction arrived, I once again squeezed my totem as Kyle petted my other hand and I bore down. I felt her give, and slip out as I finally pushed her into the world with a guttural cry of effort. She worked her tiny lungs to the maximum she could, a pitiful squeak unique to newborn babies. The doctor wiped her up and handed her to me. I smiled. I felt amazing, much better than I had the first time I went through the process. I barely noticed the continuing contractions that were separating the now useless placenta from my womb and passing it out of me. I bore down at the doctor’s request, but didn’t even really notice when the afterbirth came out.

kissed me on the mouth as my daughter snuggled against me, recovering from her traumatic entry into the world. I could see in the twinkle in his eye. He was already planning on putting another in me. I took my totem off and handed it to him.

“You can give it back to me once you fill me again.” I told him. He took it and kissed me again.

My unscientific assessment of her being bigger turned out to be true. Instead of the tiny 6 pound 2 ounce birth weight of my little Iness, my new daughter was a monsterous 9 pound 1 ounce. Kyle sure knew how to make them big.

Kyle named his new daughter Jacelyn Patricia. Despite my desire to reopen the factory, my pussy was still sore from birthing. It was nowhere near recovered when Kyle came up to me and insisted it was time. It was only a measly twenty eight days later. Still, my body belonged to him. His name was written all over it as proof.

I laid down on the bed and spread my legs open for him. He was extraordinarily gentle on insertion. I laid back and tried to enjoy it, but even a month later it still felt pretty raw. He slowly thrust in, keeping his motions smooth and level as he enjoyed my body. I relaxed, letting him use me as he would. I watched him approach orgasm, and then go over it’s peak, once again baptizing my reproductive system with his lifegiving gift.

He collapsed on me, laying on top of me while he deflated. I kissed him, and he returned the kiss.

“Are you going to give me a son this time?” I asked him.

He laughed.

“What’s the matter, you don’t like daughters?” He asked.

“Well I thought for sure I would start off with one of each.” I said.

He kissed me.

“Patience.” He said. “I plan to give you more than enough of each for you to be fully satisfied, and then some.”

He filled me every day, as he would until I conceived. It wasn’t until 7 weeks after I gave birth until manisa escort I started having orgasms again.

By the time my 23rd birthday came along, I still hadn’t had a period. This marked a little over two years without one. Remembering how last year a few weeks after my birthday I was pregnant, I took a test to start my day off right. It came back positive, my factory churning away. I handed Kyle my test, and in return got my little heart necklace.

I wore an outfit similar to the one Iness was conceived in out for my birthday. We went to a park. I stopped being shy about my tattoos after my mom attempted to use them to take my first daughter away. The park we went to was Iness’s favorite, as a result I was somewhat fairly well known there. Some of the parents wouldn’t have anything to do with me because of my tattoos. Some of the more lecherous men thought I was fair game because of them, but since I always wore low cut shirts I could always point between my boobs and tell them I was a taken woman. And some parents got over themselves and treated me like a perfectly normal human, once the shock value wore off.

Today was my celebration though. It was Jacelyn’s first time to a park. It was about me, Kyle, our two daughters, and the new bump. Iness was excited to show her sister everything. Sand from the sandpit, a leaf from under a tree, a wood chip from where the teeter totters were, she attempted to give her 4 month old sister a full tour of the textures of the playground. This continued until Kyle scooped her up and gave her a tour of the swings. Iness laughed as her daddy played with her.

I smiled as I nursed Jacelyn. I hoped that we would always be able to spend at least a little time with all our kids. It didn’t even occur to me to consider Iness as my brother’s anymore. Kyle had kept true to his word, never showing even the slightest hint he had not accepted her fully.

My smile disappeared as I remembered my brother. I had a flashback to when he kidnapped me.

I had just sat down after putting Iness down for a nap. I didn’t know quite how far along I was exactly since I didn’t have a period to measure off of, but the doctor estimated it to be around 25 weeks from the ultrasounds. I was far enough along that getting out of chairs was a chore, so I was miffed when the doorbell kept getting pressed every minute. I was forced to sling myself out of the chair or else risk a cranky baby, so I was understandably angry when I answered the door. I saw my brother Brandon standing in the doorway. I had a flash of fear. I knew this conversation was coming, where he asked me if the baby was his. I girded myself to vehemently deny it was. The baby was Kyle’s. I paid for it to be so. He didn’t even show any concern for it though. Instead he was arguing about how I was being abused.

“I know about the rest of your tattoos. And I overheard him say he was going to punish you. Don’t even try to pretend he isn’t hurting you!” Brandon said.

“He’s not. And what goes on between us is none of your damn business.” I said.

“I heard him telling you to deny medical aid when you birthed his bastard. Don’t even…” Brandon said.

I slapped him as hard as I could.

I put my finger in his face as he rubbed his cheek.

“Don’t you ever talk about my daughter like that.” I said.

“I guess I will have to do this the hard way.” He said.

He suddenly pushed me on my arm. I felt myself toppling over. I twisted in midair, trying to land in a way that wouldn’t impact against my delicate baby. I landed hard on my side. My head hit the floor. I saw stars, but I was pretty sure I avoided hurting my child. I suddenly felt Brandon rolling me over on the stomach I just tried to protect my unborn child. He jerked my arms back violently.

“Ow! You motherfucker! Let me go!” I shouted.

I felt something cold and plastic like wrap painfully around my wrists. I attempted to roll and dislodge him, but he applied pressure to my shoulders, keeping me down. Then a piece of rolled up cloth was lowered in front of my face and pulled painfully against my teeth and upper lip. I clinched my mouth shut to keep him from gagging me. He reached down and pulled at my chin. The gag slid right in. It pressed painfully into my cheeks, and then he knotted it behind my head, tangling it up in my hair. Then he applied the plastic loop around my ankles.

I tried to kick him off, but he was able to overpower me. He grabbed me by an arm and leg and dragged me out. I was being dragged along the ground, and down my porch steps. I winced as my belly slammed into the ground at each step, not even registering the impact of rest of my body, absorbed entirely in concern for my child. I looked desperately around as he dragged me down the walkway to his car. Nobody was there to see.

His trunk was open and he dragged me to it. He reached below me and rolled me painfully up and into the car. He closed the trunk. Using my tongue and jaw, I worked the gag off of me. I felt my cellphone miraculously still in my pocket. It was always falling out when I sat down. I wiggled and managed to get out of my pocket as the car started to drive off.

The acceleration slid both me and my phone around, both of us impacting hard. I continued to move around, trying to get my face to it. I finally managed, and using my jaw, tongue, and nose, unlocked the phone. I pressed the contacts icon with my nose, and then Kyle’s name, and then the call button. It had been difficult, but I achieved it. My Kyle picked up immediately. I was so relieved I almost sobbed, but there were other things more important. Iness was left home alone, and I needed help.

I snapped back to the present. Brandon was getting out of prison in 16 days. I regretted not testifying against him and locking him up forever. But it was my brother, I couldn’t do that. Jacelyn started to fuss. The flashback had caused me to tense up, which restricted my milk flow. I relaxed again, content that all things were well, at least for the moment.

The next day I called my doctor.

“Please tell me you are calling me to ask a question and not that you are pregnant again.” The doctor said.

“Sorry.” I said. “I need to schedule a prenatal exam.”

“As I explained at your last examination, You need to rest between pregnancies. You should be waiting at the very least a bare minimum of six months. This is dangerous. Your body is not designed for this. There could be serious complications.” The doctor said.

“I understand.” I said.

“There’s a huge risk of placental abruption. The baby could die. You could die. You Both. Could. Die.” She said, accenting the last part. “You need to stop this. You need to space your pregnancies out. You need to tell him no.”

“Look, I get it, but it’s my life. This is how I choose to live. There’s a lot of people out there doing dangerous stuff.” I said.

“This isn’t some kind of game for you do for an adrenaline rush. This is stupid and unnecessary!” The doctor said.

“I understand if you don’t want to be my doctor anymore.” I said.

I heard the doctor sigh.

“I just want you to be as healthy as you can be. I will still be your doctor. I just hope you will reconsider this decision before the next one. Or that your husband will, since I think this was really what he wants and not what you want. I am going to recommend you both see a specialist together who can explain the full risks involved. A colleague of mine, I will be consulting with him regarding your case from now on. Also I want to start you off with weekly prenatal examinations. My calender is currently full, but I will move some stuff around. I want you in here tomorrow at four. I will be keeping my office open late specially for you. And at the slightest sign of trouble, I am hospitalizing you.”

“I understand. Thank you.” I said.

“If you want to thank me stop being so stupid. This is your third pregnancy in two years. Have you even had a period since your first child?” She asked.

“No.” I replied.

“You need to stop doing this to your body and let it heal before you get pregnant again.”

“I understand.” I said.

“I don’t think you do. You have already ignored me twice before. But if you aren’t going to listen, I can’t force you to.

“Yes. Thanks. I will see you tomorrow.” I said.

“You better. And have a talk with that husband of yours. Make sure he understands you could die.” The doctor said.

“I will. Thanks. Goodbye.” I said.

“See you tomorrow. Goodbye.” She said.

I hung up my phone. After Kyle settled in after work I told him what the doctor said.

“I guess I can you give you a few weeks off before your next pregnancy.” Kyle said.

He walked up to me and fingered my crystal heart, which he had given back to me to wear until I birthed. Something I started doing after Brandon kidnapped me. I felt like it kept my babies healthy inside me. It seemed like Kyle felt it’s power too, Since he patted it back against my chest.

“If you let me. You seemed to be pretty intent on being bred as quickly as possible this time.” He said.

He was right. I recalled thinking about being impregnated again right away while I was busy birthing Jacelyn. And I gave him my crystal heart as if begging for him to put another little beating heart in me. I felt my stomach flutter, and I covered the stylized factory on my pubic bone with my right hand. Kyle put both his hands over mine and kissed me.

“You do look good pregnant.” He said.

He continued to kiss me, and I eagerly returned the affection. His hands slid into the band of my skirt. I moved my hand away so he could pull it down, but then heard Jacelyn begin to fuss.

“Hold on.” I said.

Kyle paused in his action. Jacelyn quieted down, and Kyle resumed, disrobing my bottom. I reached towards Kyle’s pants, unfastening his belt, eager to practice disobedience to the doctor. Then Jacelyn broke out into a full cry. I sighed, Kyle chuckled.

I pulled on my skirt, leaving my panties on the floor. I fully intended for the dissatisfaction of the local babymakers union to be addressed as soon as I could.

I breastfed Jacelyn, and then Iness. Then there was changing diapers, baths, and bedtime stories. I could have had Kyle help me, but I was anticipating the day when I would be nine months pregnant while dealing with everything from newborns to teenagers. That meant letting my system grow organically and not using Kyle unless I had to.

I listened close to the experienced moms at the park, and was starting to get pretty proficient at managing two babies, but it still took me three hours to settle them. With the Babies settled, I went to my own bedroom. I found Kyle there, asleep. He was wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else.

I admired him. Ever since my kidnapping he worked out at least once a week at the gym. He had a good firm tone to his body, with noticeable abs and visible muscles. I began kissing up his stomach, moving slowly towards his lips. Somewhere along the way it woke him, because his lips met mine when I got there.

Despite the three hours between, I was still aroused from earlier. I started to breathe heavily through my nose as I kissed him. His hands rubbed my back as I reached down and pulled his cock out through his pajama hole. He pulled my shirt over my head.

I once had a nice body like his. A firm, flat stomach, shapely hips. You could bounce a quarter off my cute ass. My skin was unmarred. I only had B cup breasts, but I knew how to work them. Two back to back pregnancies had destroyed my body. My belly was a spiderweb of stretchmarks and had sag all around it. My hips were wider than they used to be. My ass was much fuller and not as tight. I had tattoos all over me. The only part I felt I gained was in the breasts. Having two hungry babies pop out of me and keep draining my boobs did wonders to encourage them to master production. My modest B cups turned into gargantuan DDDs. They even reached Es when they were full of milk.

Kyle released the clasp of my nursing bra. My whole body moved with the weight no longer supported properly. He pulled my bra off, exposing my milk laden mammaries. He caressed them, then lightly squeezed. Without the cloth of my nursing bra to absorb it, milk escaped and ran down my tit.

While he mauled milk out of me, I reached back and grabbed his penis. His cock was rock hard. I tugged on it a few times as I scooted backwards, lining myself up for penetration. Then I sat back on it, feeling it slide into me. I sighed as I felt it settle where it belonged. I started rolling my hips while Kyle kept kneading and massaging my breasts, practically milking me as we fucked, as he usually did.

He took his hands off my breasts. He had stimulated them enough that milk was free flowing from my nipples, rolling down my body, and making a mess on him. He brought his hands to my waist, and guided my movements. I grinned down at him, the father of my children, my virile stud who had repeatedly impregnated me.

He brought one hand down between us. His palm resting on my pelvic tattoo, his middle finger found it’s way into my gash, rubbing from my vagina up across my clitoris. Using my own internal moisture for lube, he massaged my clit. I felt the pressure of an impending orgasm. I rode him over the top, cumming hard.

As I came down I realized he wasn’t Thrusting into me anymore. I looked down at him. He was coated in my milk. I laughed. I had let down and sprayed all over him. He looked at me indignantly.

“That’s your fault for playing with them.” I said.

He rolled over unexpectedly and I fell on the bed. He rapidly moved, and I found myself face down on the bed.

“We’re on your side now, you better keep your tits under control, unless you want to sleep in milk.

I felt him slide into me from behind. I shivered, still sensitive from my last orgasm.

I felt growing wet spots under my boobs. My milk wasn’t something I could control, so instead I focused on rhythmically squeezing my pussy and thrusting back on him.

My technique to encourage him to cum faster worked, and soon I felt him hilt in me, as he basted my already fertilized cervix with his baby juice.

He pulled out, and I rolled over and sat up. I grabbed my nursing bra from where it was discarded and put it back on, replacing the pads so as to absorb the leakage better.

As he went to wash himself off, I sighed. Even getting him off quickly, I had wet my bed pretty well. I went and got a towel, placing it over the place my boobs soaked. I changed into pajamas and laid down in my mess.

Kyle finished washing himself up and joined me. He ended up spooning with me, both of us on the towel on the wet spot my breasts had created.

I went to my appointment. Everything looked fine. The doctor estimated I was about 10 weeks pregnant, with a due date sometime around mid February. She gave me the contact details for her specialist and told me to setup an appointment with him and Kyle. We went, and we both listened to the specialist explain all the myriad of health risks and statistics for not recovering after birth.

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