The days blurred together. Each day was the same. There were hardly any variations between the days besides Belle’s growing body. At first I tried to escape: I tore apart sheets and climbed out the window, I stole the car keys while she was asleep, I threatened her at gunpoint, I tried countless ways and all of them ended in failure. Every attempt at escape cost me more of the freedoms I had left. It got so bad that I was no longer allowed to cover my body with anything. No towels after a shower, no sheets when I sleep, nothing. One of her mobster-bodyguard-goons took pity on me. Either that, or he was sick of seeing me nude. He tried his best to teach me Italian whenever we were alone. He’d point to things and name them, repeat common phrases and questions I’d need to ask if I were to ever make it out of this place. It wasn’t often, but we were making progress. That was until today.
BOOM!
Blood spattered all over as the kind bodyguard fell to the ground. I couldn’t do anything but stare in horror as my hopes of freedom drained away from me. Belle somehow found out that he was teaching me Italian. She brought him outside to execute him in front of me. It was a single shot to the head while he kneeled and begged for his life. Belle was such a crazy bitch. It was easy to forget she was a dangerous mob boss when all she did was demand I fuck her and strut around naked with a growing pregnant belly. I never expected to see such violence in my time here. The gentle sound of the ocean waves didn’t match the terrifying sight before me. My dreams of escape lay dead in the sand.
“If you so much as think of leaving, it’ll be you next time,” Belle warned. It was a hollow threat since she said something of the sort after each escape attempt. “Now come upstairs and wash me off,” she demanded.
I remained motionless. Anger surged within me with no place to go. Belle was going to regret this. I felt something change inside of me. Maybe that moment was the last straw. All I know is that I finally realized I couldn’t escape. It was time to plan my revenge instead. There wasn’t much that I could do. I had no money, no connections, no clothes. Belle provided everything for me. I was a cross between a pet and a sex slave to her. I wasn’t in any position to get back at her but I swore that I would as I gazed upon the blood soaked sand.
Belle was already washed up by the time I made it back into the house. Her long, golden hair was wet from the shower. “What the fuck took you so long? You barely knew that guy, get over it,” Belle complained. She stroked her hair, trying to wring out some water. Her big baby bump glistened from the moisture. As usual, she had made me pissed so I’d fuck her brains out.
Without warning, I shoved Belle over and plunged my cock inside her wet cunt. She grabbed onto a nearby countertop to stabilize herself. Little moans escaped her throat. I was fully aware I was giving her exactly what she wanted. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help it. After doing nothing but have sex with Belle for months I found myself addicted. It didn’t matter that Belle was a psychopath. Sex was sex and it’s easy to grow an addiction to it. Part of it had to be Stockholm Syndrome because it wasn’t just a sex addiction, it was an addiction to sex with Belle specifically. I hated myself for it. She was the worst, yet I found myself craving her body. If I were to escape some day I don’t think I’d be the same person I used to be. I’d grown used to the rough, reckless fucking I’ve been giving Belle. I wouldn’t be able to fuck someone I care about the way I ruthlessly fucked Belle. Not only that, but I’d had sex with Belle more than all the other times I’ve had sex in my whole life. At this point I’d forgotten what it was like to have sex with a woman who wasn’t pregnant. Belle kept getting bigger each day, it felt odd to imagine a day when she won’t be pregnant. Our constant sex really messed me up. I’d grown too accustomed to Belle and her body.
My hands instinctively roamed down to cradle her pregnant belly. It had gotten so big. She never told me any updates about her pregnancy, though she had to be due quite soon. Despite living with her for several months I learned little about her. Whenever we were in the same room together we were always fucking. I didn’t even know the gender of our own baby. I stroked Belle’s round belly subconsciously. Our constant sex made me quite fond of her swollen tummy. It was going to suck once she gives birth and bans me from sex. It was going to be impossible to adjust to such a drastic change. I gripped her belly tighter and pounded her harder. Belle truly messed me up.
A brilliant realization popped into my head. Finally, I figured out how to get my revenge. Belle messed up my head but I could mess with hers too. If sex was addictive enough for me to start craving Belle, it had to go both ways. If not then I’d fuck her silly, give her all that I got for as long as possible until she was addicted too. I needed her to keep craving kaçak iddaa me. She said many times that it was over with us after the baby comes. I was to be her right hand goon/husband/sex toy. She did say she’d still have sex with me from time to time but she’ll be returning to the states to take charge again. That’s not gonna give us much time to fuck around constantly like we do now. However, if I get her addicted she might go back on that. She’ll crave me, need me, demand me. When she gives in I’ll knock her up again. Belle doesn’t want any more kids. She didn’t even want this one. It won’t be easy since she’ll make us use protection but that can be tampered with. It was the most bizarre thing I’d imagined though it might be crazy enough to work. Belle stopped all direct mob involvement when she was pregnant. Her men would certainly overthrow her if she was constantly pregnant, never there in person and gained weight from all her consecutive pregnancies. She used her looks as a weapon. Belle would lose her power if I kept her pregnant.
There were better ways at getting revenge. My mind was so corrupted that breeding Belle like a bitch in heat was the only thing I wanted to do. Warm droplets of milk splashed on my hands. Belle was leaking breastmilk. The unexpected feeling brought my attention back to the present. I slowly rubbed Belle’s beautiful belly in wide circles, admiring its considerable weight and smooth complexion. The breastmilk dripping onto my fingers reminded me to give her swollen tits some love. I worked my way up to Belle’s breasts and took one in each hand. They had gone up at least two cup sizes once her breastmilk came in. I squeezed her tender nipples. Milk sprayed out of her heavy tits. “Oh fuck they’re so sensitive right now,” Belle warned.
I ignored her. My fingers squeezed harder and toyed with her nipples. She was a bitch, I didn’t care if her tits were sensitive. Besides she liked the pain. Belle came soon after I started playing with her tits. Milk gushed out of her breasts like a geyser. Loud moans of orgasmic bliss filled the house. I made sure she was getting pounded to heaven, hell, and back before I finally came inside her. We were exhausted by the end of it. Her swollen tits had my handprints on them after being so rough.
All of a sudden, Belle spun around and plunged her tongue into my mouth. I wasn’t expecting her to be so hungry for sex after just doing it. My hands cupped her soft, round ass while her grand, pregnant belly pressed against my cock which was still hard from sex. Her hands roamed and groped my body. Belle’s movements were frantic and lustful. “I can’t wait to get married,” Belle breathed. “You’re such a great fuck, your cock is mine, it belongs to me!” She whispered in my ear. A slender hand wrapped around my cock as she said this. Her big belly blocked the view of her tugging at my dick.
It was true that we were going to get married. She wanted to own me more than marry me but marriage was more legal than ownership. Belle stated many times that she wanted a big wedding. If I acted out of line she’d rather kill me than have me embarrass her on her big day. Everything had to be perfect which meant she wanted to wait until after she had the baby. Belle was absolutely repulsed at the thought of being a pregnant bride. She repeatedly said that only whores get married while knocked up. I didn’t see a difference, either way she already got pregnant before marriage. At least I knew the early steps of my plan was working. She desperately wanted me. I had no clue when she arranged our wedding for but it must not be for a while since she planned on losing the baby weight before it too. If everything went according to plan she’d be knocked up again before losing anything.
Belle shoved me against the bed. She crawled on top of me and chained my feet to the foot of the bed. The handcuffs she used were to prevent me from running away in the night. As I grew complacent, they eventually became used for kinky sex only. I underestimated Belle’s libido. “Damn, you’re still going? These pregnancy hormones are no joke,” I gasped while Belle mounted me.
“It’s not the pregnancy, it’s just how I am,” Belle purred. Her gigantic belly rested on top of my whole upper body. I could hardly see her face with that globe of a belly in front of me. Her thick thighs and ass felt unbelievable all squished against me while she rode me up and
down. There was no way I’d be able to go back to having sex with her old stick-figure-like pre-pregnancy body. Her newfound curves were irresistible. Every inch of her was thick and round, begging to be touched.
“Oh fuck yessssss,” Belle screamed. She tossed her luscious blonde hair back as she came forcefully on my cock. Loud moans echoed within the room. Breastmilk made her tan tummy shine as if it were oiled up. Large contractions emphasized how powerful her orgasm was. She was completely lost in ecstasy. It seemed it wouldn’t be hard to get her addicted to sex, she already was.
“Ah kaçak bahis fuck, damn it, my water broke,” Belle cursed just as I began to cum in her hot cunt. She clutched and rubbed her swollen belly. Somehow I didn’t notice. There was already so much moisture between her coming out of the shower, the breastmilk, and her cumming, I didn’t realize her water broke. My eyes went wide. Not only was I shocked to find out just how long I’d been trapped here but I was also scared about going back to her criminal empire. Everything was about to change.
Belle gave birth to our son twelve hours after her water broke. She didn’t let me go to the hospital with her. We might be getting married soon, however, that didn’t make us equals. I was still below her, a goon, a servant to the all powerful mob boss. Despite it being my son, I was not allowed to see her in such a vulnerable state, giving birth. God forbid she ever looked weak in front of a man. That was the main reason she hid away throughout her pregnancy. It was all about appearances with her. She couldn’t let her men see her waddle around with a big, swollen tummy, she wouldn’t be nearly as threatening. Too bad I planned on knocking her up again. What would she do then?
Belle named our son Gian, pronounced like John. I had no say in it. Not a single word. In fact, when we return to the United States it was almost as if Gian didn’t exist. She never talked about him around anyone other than me or the nanny. I couldn’t believe it. Our kid was going to grow up raised by nannies and servants as Belle was too busy running her empire to be a responsible parent. Not even I was able to spend much time with him. I was now Belle’s right hand man, obeying her every command.
Each day I was loosing touch with reality. After spending months isolated with Belle my sanity was already questionable. She had sex with me almost every day, often several times a day, however she wasn’t getting pregnant. It was terrible. She lost just about all of the baby weight within two months. Eventually I realized that she was taking birth control pills. I felt beyond stupid. That’s why she wasn’t getting knocked up! I wasted so much time and now she was only ten pounds away from getting her pre-pregnancy body back. I slammed my fists on the countertop. Belle had already headed out for the day. My fingers dug into my palms as I clenched my hands in frustration.
“Something wrong?” one of her personal cooks asked. He was more of a body guard than a chef, especially with the way he botched my scrambled eggs. Not sure how someone could manage to screw up eggs but he always found a way.
“No, it’s nothing,” I sighed. It was my own fault. What kind of weirdo gets revenge by breeding someone into oblivion? That’s the strangest, dumbest thing ever! I had to kill her, not impregnate her. A normal person would have planned her demise from the start. Why the fuck did I want to repeatedly knock her up? How was that a solution? My face turned red.
“Dude, you’re burning up. Are you sure you’re ok?” the muscular body-guard-chef interrogated. If he knew what I was thinking, he would’ve killed me on the spot. That was the real reason why he was there. It sure as hell wasn’t to cook half-assed eggs. He was stationed to keep an eye on me. There was always someone watching me. She had one of her goons to drive me around too. Killing her was impossible. At least not without getting shot immediately after. If this so-called chef kept cooking all our meals it would be impossible to poison her either. My forehead hurt as I racked my brain for ideas.
“You seriously look terrible. I’m gonna get you something for that headache,” the chef said as he lumbered out of the room. It took a few seconds for what he said to sink in. The dots were slowly connecting in my head. They didn’t click until he placed the pain reliever in front of me. A lightbulb went off in my head.
“You have access to the medicine cabinet?” I asked in a perplexed tone.
“Of course, sometimes miss Romano has me fix her a drink with the medication in there. You’re not supposed to mix meds with alcohol but it sure makes it more palatable,” he explained. The hulking man paused for a moment. He studied me up and down. “You mean to say you can’t open the medicine cabinet in your own home?”
It wasn’t really my home. I wasn’t sure what to call it. All I knew is that this man was my ticket out. If he could change her birth control pills for a low dose poison then I could gradually poison her over time. She’d die without anyone suspecting me. Even if they found out about the poison, they would trace it back to someone with access to the medicine cabinet, not me.
A tiny smile spread across my face. The chef was about to speak when another thought crossed me head. No, what am I thinking? This is my chance to carry out my original plan. If I could tamper with her brith control then why kill her? I could replace it with a placebo and knock her up! My smile faded. What the fuck illegal bahis is wrong with me? No! I literally told myself that plan was absurd no less than two minutes ago. However, there was no hope for it to succeed two minutes ago. Suddenly, another thought exploded into my mind. Why replace her birth control with a placebo when I could replace it with something to make it easier for her to conceive? Belle can get anything with her connections. There was no need for a doctor visit or prescription. All I had to do was research the scientific name for the leading fertility drug and tell her men she requested for it. They would never recognize any drug if it’s not written out as the brand name. Hell they wouldn’t recognize the components of an orange if it was described in chemical terms. Who would? For all they know they’d be heisting powerful dope as usual.
My plan was beginning to come together. It was nerve wracking. I had gone back and forth on acting upon it for days. The day that Belle began giving me tasks related to planning our wedding was when I finally put it into motion. She gave me the authority to order two goons around for anything wedding related. I could send them to get flowers, find caterers, buy furniture, decorations, search for scenic locations. Soon I found myself with a plentiful supply of the top leading fertility drug in the market which happened to “fall off the truck”. I just needed access to that medicine cabinet.
“Hey man, do you have the key to the medicine cabinet? I don’t know where Belle put it. I gotta put my migraine meds away,” I lied to the chef. He seemed a little confused as the last time I had a headache he had to get the pain reliever for me.
“You have access to the medicine cabinet?” he tested.
“Of course, I live here. I already got meds out of the cabinet, I just wanna put them back. Why does she always hide that damn key?” I faked. He spotted the pill bottle in my hand. It had an unmarked label preventing him from reading what it truly was.
The chef laughed. “I don’t know, she’s really paranoid. I mean, weren’t you an ex federal agent? She’s also super smart, always ten steps ahead of everyone, planning out every minor detail, protecting herself from all angles. It makes sense that she’d want that cabinet locked up. It doesn’t make sense that I have access to it honestly, but at least it means I got a spare key!” he jested. The keys poked my fingers as he tossed them at me. He wasn’t the brightest.
“Thanks man,” I cheered as I walked to the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and breathed deeply. My hands shook. Could this be it? Was I really about to do this? It seemed like fate. The bathroom was the only place in the house where I wasn’t watched by someone. A loud squeak emitted from the medicine cabinet door. I paused. The bottle of birth control pills stared straight at me. My lips twisted in uncertainty. What was I doing? I should be poisoning her, not impregnating her. Fuck it! I made it this far. It was my only chance to do something. Killing her is too merciful anyway. I’d rather see her heavily pregnant with multiple kids so frequently that she loses all her power, all her men, all her money, until she’s left with the scraps of what used to be her empire.
A hot sensation ran through my face. The birth control pills looked different from the fertility pills. How dumb could I get? Why did I think it would be a simple switch? The world began to blur. No, I can’t panic. Everything will be fine. Belle is not going to notice. They were similar enough that she probably won’t look too closely. I gulped as I finally switched the bottles and flushed the birth control pills down the toilet. What the fuck did I just do? I scolded myself as I watched the pills swirl out of sight.
A week went by. Belle hadn’t said a thing about her medicine. She might have noticed, however, she wasn’t the type to say nothing if she suspected something. It seemed like she really didn’t catch on. Everyday I lived in fear that she’d realize. It was like torture. She probably was still on birth control. She probably noticed and got more pills. These thoughts circled my head constantly. I felt like the world was closing in on me. That feeling didn’t go away until months later.
“God fucking damnit! What is that horrible smell!” Belle cursed one morning.
“Scrambled eggs? I make them for breakfast all the time?” the chef shrugged.
“Nah, you fucked them up! I don’t remember scrambled eggs ever smelling like God damn sulfur!” Belle spat. She pointed at the trash can. “Throw that shit out right now!” she ordered.
“But, it’s-” the chef tried to defend himself.
Belle cut him off. “You’re fucking fired if you think that shit smells fine. God, I cannot believe you can’t smell that! You’re our chef for fuck’s sake!”
The lumber jack of a chef walked out with his tail between his legs. There was never any arguing with her. Belle grabbed the pan and scraped all the eggs into the trash. All of a sudden, she grabbed the rim of the trash can and vomited. “Christ, and he has the nerve to say they’re ok. They made my whole fucking body nauseous!” Belle complained while clutching the trash can.