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It was almost the end of the day. Finally. The final class was PE, but even that didn't have the same appeal that it used to. Coming to school was getting harder and harder. The year had started off easily enough. I had a cute boyfriend. I was at the top of my class. I had been accepted to the only college I applied to. But all of that changed and now it was almost over.

In every sense of the word. I rested my hand on the bulge of my belly and sighed. The globe beneath my t-shirt stretched over my white belly fur shifted beneath my palm as I rested on the bleachers. I looked up at the rest of my class playing basketball. Tod was there, of course, one of the best players in the class.

I used to like watching him. I would hang back and watch the goal while he ran down the court with the ball. I loved watching his ass move while he ran down the court. And seeing his muscles move beneath his orange fur. Sure, I'd seen plenty of foxes before. I am one! But there was something intoxicating about Tod and watching his athletic body move.

But even that hurt now. Not as much as the glares I got when he caught me watching him. He hated me now. It isn't like it was my fault. I didn't ask for this.

We'd been dating all through high school. But it was just that. Dating. We only took the next step a few months ago, just before fall break. We went and saw a movie then drove back to his place. His parents were gone. Vacationing for their anniversary. I walked him to his front door and we kissed.

Then we kissed some more.

Before I knew it, we were stumbling through his front door, tugging at each other's clothes. I was naked. He was naked. His hands were so firm, but so soft. He touched me in ways I had never knew felt so good. I tried to do the same for him. I must have done something right because he was rock hard instantly. I pawed him off as his fingers worked their magic on me in kind. He was throbbing in my palm when I spread my legs for him.

Then he was in me. God, it hurt so much at first. I cried. I didn't want him to see it, but I know he did. He was gentle. He made love to me on his front sofa and knotted me like a stud I thought I'd have forever.

When I told him I was pregnant, he yelled at me and screamed at the top of his lungs. He never let me spoke. I couldn't have if I wanted to. I never wanted it. I couldn't help it. How could I? He said it was unnatural, a freak of nature. Maybe it was. An eighteen-year-old boy, pregnant in his senior year.

I thought that would be the worst of it. I'd finish school, go to college, get a good paying job to take care of our baby. Hardly. It was going well at first. I started showing and word got around. I was the laughing stock. And now? I couldn't even participate in PE with the rest of my class because of my pregnancy. I was a small fox to begin with, so a small fox with a big bulging baby belly was deemed too much of a risk to let into the rest of the class's participation.

It was just as well. I didn't feel up to playing or anything anyway. But Coach had me working out. He was one of the few people that didn't judge. Not to my face anyway. He was kind, encouraged me when I needed it, and kept me fix and healthy. His wife had just gone through the same thing, after all. He gave me little, low-risk exercises to do while everyone else played.

The bell rang throughout the gym and the rest of my class whooped and hollered, rushing into the locker rooms and leaving the ball forgotten in the middle of the court. It hadn't even stopped bouncing before the gym was quiet and empty.

With a sigh, I hefted my heavy body up and waddled into the court to bend down, with some effort, to grab the ball. I tucked it under my arm and replaced it at the rack. Without a word, coach walked over and draped an arm around my shoulders. He didn't have to say anything. Just being there, another person willing to be close to me again was more uplifting than any words he could have said.

As quickly as they had disappeared, my classmates were back, running across the court toward the exit. School was out, there was no need for them to stay there. Coach pat my shoulder and offered a kind smile that warmed my broken heart.

"Go on, go get changed."

He stared down at me for a moment then turned and made his way into his office.

Wishing I were already home, I turned on my heel and waddled toward the locker room. The short stairs down into the locker room in the old gym were far more treacherous than I would have liked, but I made it without incident. The locker room was empty, except for the strong musk of virile male. I couldn't help it. Just smelling it got my sheathe swelling beneath the bulge of my belly.

I stripped my shorts and t-shirt off and stuffed them into my locker and retrieved a towel. I draped it over the open door of my locker and walked toward the showers, cradling my belly as if to alleviate the strain on my aching back.

I stepped into the thick steam in the showers and felt about for the nearest knobs. They were easy enough to find and a moment later, hot water rushed over my orange and white fur.

I breathed a heavy sigh and leaned against the wall. I stared down at my belly, silently asking where things had gone so wrong. As if in response, the life within shifted slowly and I felt a little paw press against my bladder.

So I thought what the hell? There was no one else there. I let a hand drop away from the wall and pulled my sheathe back to reveal my bright red dick to the hot air. Then I let go. The relief was instant. It was fleeting, I knew. All it took was one drink and a swift kick from the baby and I'd be dancing on one paw again.

As I let my hand return to the wall, my sheathe didn't replace itself over my cock. No, the warm air and hot water coupled with the smell wafting all around me had me quite hard. I thought about pawing off there in the shower, squeezing my knot and spraying my cum all over the drain, but I just wanted to go home.

Two hands gripped my rump tightly. They were both the cause of and the only thing preventing me from jumping out of my skin. Those hands pulled my butt cheeks apart and I heard a soft laugh behind me. Brad. When had he come in here!? Why hadn't I heard his hooves on the tile!?

"I don't know what I was expecting," he said, kneading my rump beneath his large palms. "A pussy maybe." His hands slid around my waist and glided along my belly. I wanted to vomit. "Where's it gonna come out?"

I writhed, pulling forward away from him. "Don't touch me," I pled in a small voice.

He moved right along with me and I felt my belly press uncomfortably against the wall.

"I'm going to touch you, faggot." Brad laughed and pressed himself against me. I felt his thick sheathe and several inches of his hot, soft horse cock against my back. "I'm going to do much more than that." He leaned down and nibbled my ear.

Now, as terrified as I was in that moment, he'd stumbled onto my one weakness. My knees went weak and I whimpered. As my body began to fall, his large hands darted out to catch me. In retrospect, I am thankful he caught my belly in his big palm, but at the time I felt my stomach turn.

"If you let yourself," Brad said as he effortlessly lifted my weight back onto my feet, "you might even enjoy it!" His flat teeth grinded my pointed ear between themselves again and I moaned. Fuck him, I thought. I wanted to run away and cry, but the rest of me desperately wanted him under my tail.

He led my rubber legs out of the shower and into the main locker room. My vision was so blurred from the forced pleasure and fear that I barely registered his naked chocolate body beside my own glistening and wet. He must not have left the shower before I arrived. A glance at his locker confirmed that his bag and locker were open, waiting for him to pack up and go home. Just like mine.

One of his hands pulled my towel from the door of my locker and laid out on the wide bench in the middle of the locker room. He turned me around and helped me sit down on the end of the bench, facing him. Normally when I stand up, my head comes up to the bottom of his chest, but now, sitting there, I was staring him right in the balls.

It was a good thing I was already sitting down. Finally getting a good look at those big orbs made me lose all control. Tod and I had frequently sat and fantasized about Brad. Of course, Tod wanted to fuck that big pony's pucker, but I wanted to lick his sheathe, roll his testicles in my hands like I was juggling baseballs and, though I would never verbally admit it to my ex, feel that enormous shaft buried to the hilt inside of me.

One of Brad's hands rested on my shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. "Like what you see, faggot?" he sneered as his free hand stroke his engorged cock from sheathe to lightly flared tip. Seeing the mottled black and pink skin on that monster shift with every stroke made my own tiny (by comparison) cock spurt a bit of pre- onto the floor between us.

"I had planned on seeing how good a little cock sucker you were," the big horse said, "cram my dick down your throat and make you choke on it, but if I do that now, I'll fucking cum before I'm good and ready. Last thing I wanna do is drown you and have to explain that to Coach!"

He eased me back and I didn't protest. A small part of my brain was crying out for my body to run away, but the rest of me realized that, rape or not, I was having a dream come true! I felt my back press against the bench and without any prompting, I spread my legs wide for my would-be rapist.

"A bit horny, faggot?" he asked as he crouched over the end of the bench and leaned over my gravid body. "Pregnancy's not being good to you, is it? Well, it's being good to me!"

I felt his tip press against my puckered tailhole and hissed sharply. A moan slipped from my mouth and I arched my back. Encouraged, Brad pushed more insistently against me until all at once, my tight ring gave way and several inches of his much-too-big cock disappeared into me.

My insides burned. My eyes opened wide and I squealed. It hurt much more than Tod's knot had! And he was getting deeper and deeper! I pressed my palms against my belly and took handfuls of my white belly fur against my palms! More and more of him sank into me. He went on forever! I didn't know where I was putting it. I didn't know if or when he was going to shove his cock right up against my baby. But I did know that part of me that wanted to run was getting louder.

Then I felt his balls press against my ass at last. My back thumped back onto the bench and I lifted my head to stare over my belly at him. Of course, I couldn't see his groin. My baby was in the way. But I could see his lower chest pressed against that rolling hill. I could feel his chest pressed tightly against the swell.

"Good God, where are you putting it?" he asked, echoing my sentiments precisely. He smirked and shook his head as slowly he started to draw himself out of me.

It was agony, feeling him push deeper and deeper, but feeling his medial ring and partially swollen flare dragging against my sensitive flesh inside sent electricity shooting throughout my body. I arched my back again and cried out, this time for a much different reason.

By the time he was pushing into me again, my hands were up over my head, curled in the warm fabric of my towel.

"Wanna know a secret, faggot?" he asked as he fucked himself into me again. "I've got a huge thing for pregnant women." His lips curled into a wicked sneer and his hands glided over my belly, trailing little jolts of pleasure behind them. "Not quite a pregnant woman, but you're the closest thing I've ever gotten to fucking one." He smirked and leaned forward to kiss my tummy. As if in response, the kit beneath his palms shifted and rolled.

Brad smiled and shook his head as if in disbelief. "Good faggot."

I shook my head, reaching down beneath my thigh to feel where he was fucking me. My tailhole was stretched wide, just on the cusp of pain at any given moment! I felt more full than I had ever felt before, and as someone only a couple months away from giving birth, that's saying something! Feeling it with my own fingers was something else entirely. My skin was perfectly smooth, stretched obscenely around him as he drove into me and pulled out.

"Stop," I whimpered, struggling to find my voice. I curled my fingers loosely around his cock, feeling him drive himself into me again with my smooth fingertips.

As his medial ring slipped under my fingers, Brad smirked and shook his head. "I aint stopping, faggot. I'ma fuck you till you cant walk straight!"

His groin pressed tightly against mine and I twisted my hand around. I curled my fingers around one of his massive balls and massaged the firm orb inside his smooth sack. He nickered at me and I reached down to let my other hand join in. Finally, I had his balls in my hand, rolling them against my palms like I was juggling baseballs.

"No," I said as I found my voice. "Stop talking and fuck me already!"

As my hands returned to the towel over my head, Brad smirked once more and shook his head. "Good faggot," he said again and leaned over me. Most surprisingly out of all of this, he set his hands in my own and let me interlace our fingers. He grinned down at me and threw caution to the wind.

His hips pounded against my own. His abs slapped the underside of my belly and his breathing grew labored. I stared up at him, my dream come true. He'd always been an untouchable fantasy I'd shared with Tod, but now he was here, fucking me with wild abandon!

I felt his flaring tip slide dangerously close to my tailhole before driving deep inside of me again. Each time, I was afraid he'd slip out and it would all disappear, but each time he just shoved it all right back in where I wanted it. I arched my back and writhed beneath him like a bitch in heat. My knot swelled and I came all over us. Harder than I'd ever come before. I have to wonder if he was just so large he was squeezing more of it out of me, or maybe he was hitting my balls and squirting it out just like smashing a ketchup packet.

Whatever the case, my orgasm went on and on, just like our fucking. And I was fine with that. Someone could have come down to see what his whinnying and my yipping was about. Someone probably did. I didn't care.

"Fuck me!" I cried out and squeezed his hands tightly. I held on for dear life as I felt his head flare out uncomfortably deep inside of me. Thankfully, he held himself there, his groin tight against mine and his balls pulsing against my ass. "Fuck me, Brad! Fuck me please!"

My hips bucked up against him when I felt that first rush of heat rush into me. I swore I could taste each spurt as he came inside of me. I could feel his cock swell as each was rushed down his shaft and erupted inside. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to die in that moment and experience it for the rest of eternity!

The only thing that brought me back to reality was his teeth nibbling at my neck. I blinked the colors away and stared up at him. No, not up at him. He was kneeling beside me. One hand was caressing my belly. Was it bigger? It looked bigger!

I turned to look at him and he lifted his head from my neck. He smirked down at me, fully clothed, and stood up. "You're a good fuck, faggot." He turned, clip-clopping to the locker room door while I tried to put myself back together on the bench.

He stopped, one hand on the door frame and the other carrying his bag that looked comically small next to his large pony body. "Hey, you ever want another fuck, you let me know, faggot." He took another step, then stopped midstride and nodded toward me. "Maybe when you pop..."

I stared at him, my head craned upward to rest the top of it against the bench so I stared at him upside down. When I pop? "What?" I asked, my hands exploring the swell of my belly. It was definitely bigger. And much, much warmer. And slushier.

"Maybe when you pop, I'll put a foal in there, yeah?"

Wait, did I hear that right? I slowly rolled over much the same way a whale rolls on the beach. I hefted my new, heavier weight up onto my paws and strode over to him. He looked genuinely afraid. Like I was some predator that might bite him if he got too close.

I stopped in front of him and reached up toward his face. He leaned down and I caressed his cheek with my palm. On a dare, I leaned up and gently brushed his lips with my own. I felt him tense up, so I didn't linger. As our lips parted, I smiled up at him and guided his free hand to my bare belly. "I'd like that, Brad," I said.

He stared down at me, dumbfounded. It was like he couldn't decide if I was being serious or if he wanted to follow through. Instead, he just smiled and started up the stairs. "See you around, faggot," he said much less aggressively.

"I'll be your faggot if you want me," I called.

He smiled over his shoulder at me. Then he was gone.

I exhaled slowly and made my way back to my locker to towel off and dress myself. I cast a glance to the doorway as if expecting him to be there. He wasn't of course. Not physically. But somehow, I knew he'd be there if I needed him to be. I might have just turned my rapist gay!

I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out so bad after all. I caressed my belly and stared down at the taut white fur covering it. I know it was stupid to get my hopes up, but I allowed a daydream to slip through.

"Maybe he'll make a good daddy. What do you think?"