Twin Birth

Rebecca crawled onto the bed and lay down carefully on her side, resting her head on the pillow and one hand on her pregnant belly.

Eight months ago, she felt like her world came to an end. On the day she discovered that she was expecting, her husband went missing. The next day, she got hit by another piece of bad news: another girl named Courtenay Fortney was promoted to Senior Producer. Miller had lied to her.

Fortunately, Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought International, had heard of her case. Not only did he transfer her to another department with a better salary, but he also demoted Miller "due to his bad behavior". When her pregnancy reached the eighth month, she received a fully paid maternity leave.

Rebecca grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Every channel reported on the latest achievement of Homelander.

On screen, the figure in the striped cape stood at a podium bearing the seal of the mayor's office. The camera caught her from a flattering angle, chin slightly lifted, hair catching the stage lights in that precise way that made her look simultaneously approachable and untouchable. She raised her hand and smiled, and the audience had an uproar.

A sudden abdominal rumble disrupted her attention. Rebecca gripped her belly and doubled over in pain. When the pain had passed, she grabbed the wireless phone and called for an ambulance.

As she put the phone down, something burst down below. She froze as something trickled out of her slit down her inner thighs.

Her water had broken.

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In a building sixty miles north, the actual Homelander sat in a recliner that had stopped reclining six weeks ago. She had wedged a pillow behind her lower back to support her spine. The remote control lay on a small table next to her, but she hadn't touched it in twenty minutes. She was watching herself give a speech on television.

When she discovered that she was expecting eight months ago, the workload of Vought's Hero Management Department doubled. A team of trusted doctors and nurses was formed to take care of her. Queen Maeve and Black Noir had to do missions in her place. When her belly became too big to hide, a shapeshifting Supe named Doppelganger was hired to act as her stunt double in public.

Her hand moved to her abdomen, spread flat against the straining fabric of her new suit. The doctor recommended maternity clothes, but she wore her suit almost all her life. She couldn't imagine wearing something else. In the end, the R&D department had to continuously create new suits to keep up with her expanding belly.

Homelander looked down. Her navel had long since pushed out into a fat little pink nub from all the pressure inside. The swollen mass of her belly had bulged out and pressed on her thighs. It's rock hard, so stiff that her fingers couldn't even make a dent in it. She once had the idea to test its durability against a machine gun, but the doctor almost had a heart attack when hearing it.

When the morning sickness period was over, life was beautiful. The meal became more delicious. The sleep became sounder. She didn't need to fly around all day to play the hero. Homelander thought that she had become addicted to being pregnant, and regretted that she didn't stop using birth control sooner.

Suddenly, a twinge of pain ran through her body like an electric shock, shaking her to the core. Being near-invulnerable, Homelander never felt that kind of pain in her life. The scream ripped out of her throat as a surge of something wet poured down her legs. Her oversized belly tightened, her body shaking all over with convulsions. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room, trying to calm her down.

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St. Jude Children's Research Hospital was a subsidiary of Vought International. Online, it claimed to be a nonprofit medical corporation that offered gynaecologic and pediatric treatment services. However, in reality, the hospital was a research center that experimented on babies to create Supes. Today, two special patients were sent there: one by ambulance, one by helicopter.

Homelander could feel her pussy lips stretching painfully wide as the top of the baby’s head peeked out. The bed made from special alloy deformed under her strength. Her laser vision went into a rampage, leaving long burn marks on the ceiling.

"The baby is crowning. Keep pushing."

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” She cried as the intensified pain became unbearable. Another tensing of her uterine muscles roiled her innards, and she took another deep breath and pushed hard. Then a fluid-soaked baby popped out.

"Congratulations, you have given birth to a girl. Do you want to name her now?"

"Anna. Her name is Anna."

At the same time, three stories down, Rebecca also successfully delivered her baby.

"Congratulations, you have given birth to a boy. Do you want to name him now?"

"Ryan. His name is Ryan."