Amber’s having a baby part 2

The story of Ambers pregnancy continues

Amber and Marcus’ relationship continued, the corsets remaining a constant method of restraining and restricting her growing baby bump. Jamie would be forced to sit and watch as Amber begged Marcus to tightly squeeze her growing bump, to watch him fuck her brutally, to pulverize her tightly compressed tummy. Amber would happily sit and squirm on his huge cock, her back to his muscular chest, her corseted belly bulging as he penetrated her deep. Her tiny arms holding tight to his, leaning her head back kissing him passionately and she would giggle into his mouth as they both felt his big black cock stabbing into her womb. Marcus took her to an OBGYN that he knew, a sexy older blonde that was married to a black stud. The doctor grinned wickedly when she saw Ambers tight corset and gave Marcus a knowing look. “The baby is still healthy,” the doctor said to Marcus impishly, ignoring Amber completely. “Though it’s healthy, it’s small and underweight.” Dr. Elena's words hung in the air like a filthy promise, her wicked grin splitting her red lips as she wiped the ultrasound gel from Amber's previously corseted belly with a rough swipe of her hand. Pushing her fingers into Ambers belly harshly. Dr. Elena refastened the clasps of Ambers corset, the tight boning digging deeper into Amber's flesh with every shallow breath, her swollen bump forced into an unnatural, protruding shelf that quivered under the pressure. “Your little white whore is gaining weight, Marcus. She’s up 4 pounds, she’s getting fat,” the doctor said angrily. Amber watched as she spoke privately to Marcus.
"Meth, huh? Smart thinking, doc," Marcus growled, his massive hand clamping down on Amber's thigh, nails biting into her skin. He ignored her soft whimpers, eyes locked on Elena's heaving tits straining against her half-open blouse. "This little cumrag's been packing on pounds like she's hoarding for winter. Time to slim her down—keep that baby girl tiny and tight for me."
Elena leaned in close, her perfume mixing with the sharp, sterile tang of the room, her fingers trailing possessively over the corset's laces. "Exactly. A few hits a day, and she'll drop that fat fast. The crystals will crank her up, make her crave your cock even more while starving the brat inside. Jamal swears by it—keeps me lean and eager for his loads." She shot a glance at the door where Jamal lounged, his own meaty dick still bulging heavy between his legs, glistening from Elena's recent blowjob. "Right, baby?"
Jamal chuckled, deep and rumbling, stroking his length lazily. "Hell yeah. Turns 'em into perfect fucktoys—high as shit, holes clenching like vices." He eyed Amber's restrained form, her tiny arms rubbing uselessly against the bump under her corset, pussy lips puffy and dripping. "You gonna pipe her up right here, Marcus? Let the slut taste her new diet?"
Amber's heart hammered, a twisted thrill sparking through her veins at the doctor's depraved advice. The corset squeezed her ribs, making her dizzy already, but the thought of the rush—the burn in her lungs, the electric fire in her blood—had her clit throbbing. She bit her lip, thinking about the hard fuck to come and the danger to her unborn baby girl.
"Nah, we'll save the first hit for home. Got Jamie waiting to watch the show anyway." Marcus hauled Amber off the table, her legs wobbling as cum trickled down her thighs. He cinched the corset tighter, yanking the laces until she gasped, her bump compressing into a rigid dome that pressed agonizingly against her womb. "Let's roll, pet. Doctor's orders."
On the drive back, the city lights blurred past, Amber sat ridged in the passenger seat, her tiny body bound by the corset's design, every pothole jolting her. Marcus pulled into a seedy alley stop, the kind with flickering neon signs and shadows lurking in doorways. He vanished inside for minutes that stretched like eternity, returning with a small baggie of shimmering crystals and a glass pipe that caught the dashboard glow like a dirty jewel.
"Your new best friend," he rumbled, dangling it before her eyes. Amber's mouth watered, a pathetic whine escaping her throat. She nodded eagerly, the doctor's words echoing in her skull—small baby, lose weight, crave the high. By the time they pulled into the driveway, her body buzzed with anticipation, nipples hard against the unyielding fabric.
Jamie was there, of course, tied to the armchair in the living room like the pathetic voyeur he was—Marcus's little cuck sidekick, eyes wide and dick straining against his pants at the sight of Amber's disheveled state. "W-watch the show, Jamie," Marcus barked, shoving Amber toward the couch. "Your girl's about to get her fix."
He lit the pipe first, the flame dancing under the glass as the crystals melted into a swirling vapor. The acrid, chemical sweetness filled the air, and Marcus pressed it to Amber's lips. "Inhale deep, slut. Let it burn." She sucked greedily, the smoke scorching her throat, exploding into her lungs like liquid fire. Coughs wracked her body, but then the rush hit—euphoric waves crashing through her, sharpening every nerve, making her skin tingle and her pussy flood with fresh slick.
"Fuck... oh god, Marcus," she gasped, high already, her vision sparkling. The corset felt like armor now, amplifying the drug's pulse, her bump a hot, confined weight that begged for abuse. She crawled onto his lap as he dropped his pants, his huge black cock springing free, veined and rigid. Straddling him reverse, her back to his chiseled chest, she sank down, impaling her soaked cunt on his girth. The stretch burned deliciously, his head battering her cervix with the first drop.
Her tiny arms reached back, clutching his thick forearms, pulling them around her waist. "Squeeze me—crush my belly, please!" she begged, voice breathy and wrecked from the meth haze. Marcus obliged, his biceps flexing as he wrapped around her corseted torso, hands interlocking over her protruding bump. He compressed hard, the boning creaking, forcing her swollen abdomen inward until it bulged obscenely against his palms, the pressure grinding against the life inside.
Jamie squirmed in his bonds, forced to stare as Amber rode Marcus brutally, her hips slamming down, pulverizing her own compressed tummy with each descent. His cock stabbed deep, spearing her womb like a piston, the meth making every thrust electric—sensations amplified tenfold, her walls fluttering wildly around his invading thickness. She leaned her head back, lips crashing into his in a sloppy, passionate kiss, tongues dueling as she giggled into his mouth, the sound manic and high-pitched.
"Feel that, baby? Your big black dick... wrecking me, stabbing our girl," she moaned between kisses, her body arching as he thrust up viciously. The corset bit into her skin, sweat slicking the laces, her bump throbbing under his vise-like grip. Jamie's whimpers were background noise, his eyes glued to the way Marcus's shaft disappeared into her, balls slapping her ass with wet, rhythmic smacks.
For two months, it became ritual—Marcus doling out hits like rewards, keeping Amber perpetually blitzed, her pleas for the pipe as desperate as her begs for his cock. Mornings started with her on her knees, pipe in one hand, his dick in her mouth, sucking down smoke and pre-cum in tandem. The meth melted away the weight, her body leaner, sharper, the corsets lacing even tighter now, her bump a perpetual, restrained orb that never swelled beyond control.
Nights blurred into frenzied fucks, Jamie always nearby, his face a mask of tortured arousal. Amber would straddle Marcus on the bed, back pressed to his sweat-slick chest, her corseted belly grinding against his abs as she bounced, high and insatiable. "More dope—fuck, I need it! Then pound me harder!" she'd cry, the crystals hitting her system just as his hands clamped her waist, squeezing until stars burst behind her eyes.
One evening, after a massive rail snorted off his thigh, Amber was feral—eyes wild, skin flushed, pussy dripping rivers down his shaft as she impaled herself reverse cowgirl style. Her tiny arms locked around his, nails digging into his flesh, head thrown back for a devouring kiss. Giggles bubbled from her throat, mixing with moans as his enormous black cock ravaged her depths, the meth rush turning each stab into a lightning bolt of ecstasy. "Pulverize it—crush my tummy, make the baby feel you!" she demanded, and Marcus growled, his grip iron on her corset, compressing her bump until it deformed under his palms, the internal pressure making her womb clench around his invading head.
He flipped her then, face down on the mattress, ass up, corset unyielding as he mounted her from behind. His hips snapped forward, brutal and unrelenting, his balls battering her clit while his hands yanked the laces tighter mid-thrust. Amber's screams echoed, high-pitched and doped-up, her body convulsing as orgasms ripped through her—wave after wave, the drug prolonging the bliss until she was a shuddering mess, cum gushing from her stretched hole.
Jamie watched it all, night after night, his own releases denied, forced to witness Amber's transformation into a meth-fueled breeding whore. The baby stayed small, just as the doctor ordered, but Amber's cravings only grew— for the pipe, for the squeeze, for the savage reaming that left her bruised and begging for more. Marcus owned her completely, the corsets and crystals his chains, turning their home into a den of raw, unfiltered carnality.