Quattuormom

Her cervix squeezed at the tip of his cock as it continued to be rammed inside by gravity and Ernest's spasmed pulls. Jessica continued to shake her head, barely coherent, as Ernest pressed her against him. Every point of flesh on her body now felt like a clitoris being rubbed to the verge of climax, and the aching delight she felt in her stretched pussy was unreal. Rather than stimulating the internal structures of her clitoris--as normal sex might--now every surface of her tender pocket offered an unreal sensation, and nearly every inch of it was currently gripping Ernest's cock. Her legs remained anchored where they wrapped around his body, letting her thighs twitch against his hips; their arms coiled around one another like true lovers, no matter how much Jessica wanted to escape; and her breasts, squeezed against him, could feel no discomfort from being crushed and left only the enhanced sensitivity of hard nipples being suffocated against male skin.

They remained anchored to one another like this for minutes that scorched her like hours, and she could no longer ignore how desperately she wanted him. The room reeked of their sex, compounding this problematic train of thought; Ernest could barely even think about the ring anymore, obsessed as he was with the simple, joyful act of feeling his lover trembling in bliss. The two were now covered in a thin sheet of sweat--where they weren't already thickly coated in what emanated from their union--and both panted desperately as they came together, trembling and clutching, while the dilated cervix could only welcome the full batch of new, perfect sperm. The uterus, normally tightly packed and empty save a bit of fluid and the microscopic invaders from the south, began to expand thanks to the pressure of this new, invasive liquid... and the tens of millions of egg-seeking swimmers it contained. Normally a worrying development, Ernest's wishes kept Jessica safe... from illness or pain, at least.

"You... you love it, don't you?" Ernest sighed as he broke their kiss.

Jessica, her voice a pleased whistle, could only shake her head with what sense she had remaining.

"Your... body can't... lie...!" Ernest pulled her down again... and felt something give.

Jessica's eyes went wide as she felt it too... and felt the ecstatic pressure of his entire cockhead finally slipping into her womb. The gripping ring around the base of his head felt incredible, though Ernest hardly needed another excuse to come: he did so, and now the first batch was joined by the second, inflating Jessica's womb to the size of a fist as cum slowly drained through her Fallopian tubes. In the meantime, a small lump on Jessica's abdomen betrayed how unnaturally full her babymaker was.

Ernest could not manage much more than an incoherent moan, a chorus Jessica mewled in joining. The two joined lips again, both crying in rapture, as they came together once again. Their sweaty, locked bodies twitched and rubbed against one another; Jessica's breasts surged as they sensed impending need of hungry youths; and Ernest's back rippled as pressed Jessica down to finally sheathe his entire, monstrous cock inside her. It was doubtful he could pull out now; neither made the effort to try.

I wish we didn’t suffer any muscle or skeletal pains that weren’t necessary to warn us of serious danger or injury.

Such an innocuous wish made on that first, heady night they shared... but what did it mean? Pains would come... and they would come to warn of serious danger. A warning was information... and information had to be articulate as needed for the danger. A dull pain for impact was enough... but a carefully placed, abdominal ache could warn of more. But a wish-enhanced series of pains? Depending on the need, those would practically be telepathy: carefully worded from nervous system to thinking mind... and these were the signals Jessica received as her womb realized the serious danger she was in.

The fimbria ovarica is an important party of female anatomy. Of the fimbriae at the end of the fallopian tubes, this one is that which, when engorged, will sweep and tickle at the ovary until it releases one of its hundreds of potential eggs into the tube proper. This engorgement of the fimbriae, and the fimbria ovarica, is what happens during the period leading up to ovulation... and normally, Jessica was nowhere near that part of the cycle. Instead, she was in the start of the follicle phase: where the ovary produced 15-20 egg cells but, eventually, would choose just one to let mature while the others died off. Ovulation wouldn't occur until this harrowing Hunger Game came to pass... at least, that's what normally happens.

But the Fallopian tubes also aren't normally packed full of super-semen magically programmed to do their job "perfectly."

The sperm hit the end of the road as the uterus continued to expand with cum, and each knew its objective now. Batted away from these super-swimmers were the helpless defense mechanisms of the uterus; none could hope to stop these genetically-engineered babymakers now. Tens of thousands of swimmers pressed against the fimbria ovarica with unnatural intelligence and indelible purpose; wave after wave joined this effort. Some slipped away by the natural tides of the body: they would end up trapped between other fimbriae or swept into the body proper, bouncing uselessly against the ovary before being lost in Jessica's anatomy; their sacrifices would be remembered by no one. But the tens of thousands who weren't swept away became hundreds of thousands, and then became one of the thirty million already traveling either tube, rushing to reinforce their older brethren on their mission. New recruits were being pumped into the main stage, fresh for the fight, but the hardened veterans at end of both tubes were about to win the war... again, and again.

Jessica felt the presence of these invaders... and despite not being well into anatomical sciences enough to know what these sensations meant, she instinctively knew this pain-like warning: she was being **** to ovulate... and it would result in far more babies than would be safe to bear.

The first part of the news already had her kicking to try and get away from Ernest. Her cries for release were muffled in his mouth; she couldn't withdraw her tongue even as she tried, such was the anchoring pleasure. Even her kicks were largely futile efforts; soon they returned to anchoring her to him. Why?! Her mind screamed... but the pains continued to come with their terrifyingly articulate warnings.

The fimbria ovarica swelled under the stimulation... and shifted as it was pressed by the join might of millions of microscopic tadpoles of life-growing cells. A few twin-tailed sperm arrived; normally useless and doomed to dysfunction, these had learned how to swim perfectly with their malformed bodies and, now, torpedoed into the **** fimbria. It was too much to resist.

No! Don't... Don't release them! Jessica pleaded with her ovaries, barely able to grasp anything other than the fact that she was doomed if they did. I don't want to get pregnant... please... please!

At the end of each tube, the fimbria ovarica pressed against the ovary, urgently and violently...

Please, not like this, not like-!

... and each surrendered a prize.

The two eggs were not mature... but Jessica's perfect health meant they wouldn't simply die from exposure. Instead, each traveled nearly in sync. The press of semen might have washed such precious cargo away, but the sperm knew their job here: not to fertilize, but to haul. The youthful eggs were carried off by the excess sperm, pushed through the mucus they all enjoyed, and rushed headlong into the uterus proper where the greatest among them would be chaperoned into the egg's core.

They were to be implanted... Jessica was going to be a mother. NO!

But the mission was not complete. There were still more prizes to win, after all.

The fimbriae were pressed again... and again... and again... and her body warned her, uselessly, as she felt the repeated ovulations. Her breasts ached; her pussy clenched; and she cried in bliss and in terror as she tried, uselessly to urge her body to resist. I can't have a baby... I can't have two... three? Four- no, stop!

But the fimbria ovarica continued to tap...

... until the ovaries no longer had anything to give.

Thirteen in all, the eggs were hauled away... and by the time the thirteenth was passing, Jessica felt a new, explicit, particular pain: that of the chemicals in her uterus changing. More than the quarter-gallon of jizz sloshing about in her babymaker, those chemicals that were meant to be there shifted... because the first fertilization was about to occur.

No! Get away from them... don't fertilize them! DON'T-! She moaned her **** plea into Ernest's mouth... and a caress of the back of her neck turned her plea into another blissful cry.

The best of the best was guided to the egg... and all but melted right through the egg's hopeless barrier.

Jessica's eyes screwed shut as she realized it was done... but she wasn't ready to quit just yet.

The fertilized egg would make a new life the moment it implanted itself in her uterine lining... and she bucked and shook, trying desperately to somehow evade or shake an internal cellular movement. The approaching doom was felt as it crossed tenths of a millimeter towards its goal. Jessica begged and pleaded against it, unable to do so with her mouth... right until she felt, with a scream, the egg nestle into her uterus. Perhaps with a stern shake, or a tumble down some stairs, or something, she could still-!

But the mission of perfect sperm was not done... and now, joining as one until they had pressed and melted their bodies together... the sperm anchored a net of cellular matter to keep the egg safely implanted until it could no longer be shaken so easily. Her body warned her of this too... because it knew it was going to happen over a dozen more times.

Fuck... fuck, no! I'm too young to be-!

But the next ones were coming... and as this slow, transformative process took place, so too did the orgasms keep coming, each compounding the speed of the next. Jessica was coming almost every other second by the time the tenth fertilized egg found its home... and it was only then that, in some bizarre act of mercy (or boredom?), Ernest finally, with an internal "pop," pulled out of her womb. His cum began to flush out of her, but only as far the cum would permit itself to be flushed; each was now doing the same work they had done on the other two women Ernest had inseminated, perfectly spacing out the eggs (one of which would be twins!) so they'd grow in relative... "comfort." But being pregnant with fourteen children was very dangerous, her body warned her... and continued to warn her as she continued to buck, and cry, and come even as Ernest withdrew from her stretched cunt. He laid her down on the bed and pressed his body against hers, continuing the orgasmic level of contact; he had little choice, since her legs were not locked around his waist.

"See how much you're into this...?" Ernest cooed.

Jessica simply gasped and drooled and cried as her eyes rolled back... and the fourteenth embryo was prepared. Each infused with Ernest's perfect sperm... none would fail or be stillborn. With Jessica's unbreakable body, she would survive to see them born. But it was still dangerous... and so she was left with a permanent, quasi-ache of knowledge: of knowing just how woefully pregnant she now was.