Male Mpreg Novels & Stories

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."

Six months after our divorce, my ex-wife, Shanon Reich went viral with her new influencer boyfriend, Tobias Hunt, gaining over ten million followers. One day, by sheer accident, I scrolled into their livestream and saw my three-year-old daughter, Ginny Herbert, trapped inside a car. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looked utterly helpless. Shanon didn't smash the window, nor did she call the police. Instead, she laughed brightly at the camera. "Thank you to our top fan for the moneybag gift!" Then she grinned and said, "Send another moneybag! I'll smash the window once I get it, okay?" I lost my mind. I raced over like a madman and wrenched the car keys out of her hand. "Leomund Herbert! Are you insane?" she screamed. "Do you know how much this stream is worth? It's just a little heat! She's not going to die!" I held my daughter in my arms. Her tiny body was limp, and she was barely conscious. With reddened eyes, I pointed at her and shouted, "Shanon Reich! You will pay for this!"

After my wife had a miscarriage, the doctor said she could never have children again. She cried and told me to find another woman and to forget about her. I held her in my arms and told her I didn't care about having any children. However, I was smiling when she wasn't looking. The abortion remedy I bought in the countryside had worked much faster than I expected. After all, that child wasn't mine to begin with.

After waking up from a car accident, I realize that I've lost some of my memories. My wife, Samantha Ross, embraces me immediately and says in a choked-up tone, "The doctor said that you've hurt your manhood in the accident. You… might not be able to perform in the bedroom anymore." My father-in-law, Edmund Ross, sighs heavily as well. He tells me that even if I can't get Samantha pregnant anymore, I will always be the only son-in-law who's married into the Ross family. Everyone compliments me on marrying into a wonderful family. After all, Samantha refuses to abandon me, and Edmund completely understands my situation. But I know for a fact that my kidneys aren't busted at all. Also, I already had a son with Samantha a long time ago. The thing is, where on earth is that child now?

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

At the annual company meeting, my wife, Rosalie Smith, claims that I've never made any contributions to the company, so she demands that I give up my position as the chief engineer and transfer all of my research findings to her first love, Harry West. Enraged by Rosalie's shamelessness, I quit my job on the spot before throwing the divorce agreement at Harry's face. "Working in this day and time is very difficult, you know! How about I just be more generous and let you take over my position as the CEO's husband instead?" For a moment, everyone swaps looks with each other, thinking that I'm merely jealous of Harry. But no one knows that I'm the one with the core technology of the company. No one can replicate it nor steal it from me. Without my core tech, the company's products are reduced to a bunch of useless codes. As for Rosalie, she will face massive debts and the crisis of her company going into bankruptcy.

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

When my CEO girlfriend, Lana Piller, learned that I had given the design that took me half a year to complete to her first love, Aiden Connaught, for a competition, she, who had always been afraid of marriage and having children, suddenly agreed to marry me and have children with me. Aiden was pissed off and pretended to have a depressive episode; he picked up sulfuric acid, intending to ruin his own hands. Lana immediately panicked. Not only did she give him my position as the design director, but she also accompanied him to the Arctic to witness the aurora borealis and fulfill his dream. They ate and stayed together all the way, being inseparable. Three months later, Lana casually remarked, "Zac and I have been busy competing and seeking inspiration, unlike you, who has been slacking off at work. Your designs are entirely unoriginal! You’ve run out of ideas. That's why you're envious of his talent." Looking at Lana's increasingly prominent baby bump, I was not angry; I just smiled calmly and continued with the wedding preparations. Lana thought I was still in the dark, laughing and saying she had overcome her mental barrier and could not wait to give me a child. However, she had no idea that the wedding would take place as scheduled, but I had already chosen another bride.

Before the company Ruby Lane and I built finally landed a multimillion-dollar funding, she had agreed that we would get married once the deal closed. But when I rushed to the celebration party that night, I saw Ruby kissing the investor, Jack Hunter, in front of everyone. Then, she proudly held up their marriage certificate. Jack took the microphone and said, "To prove I'm serious, I didn't just invest money into the company, I gave myself too! My wife will lead this company to even greater heights!" My colleagues all looked at me, expecting me to cause a scene. Instead, all I did was smile as I clapped. "That's great news! I wish both of you a happy life from now on and hope that the company goes public soon!" The entire room went into an uproar. After the party, Ruby pulled me aside to explain what happened. "Jack throws money at this project like it's nothing to him. He just wants to know what marriage feels like, that's all. Did you really have to act that childishly just now? "Once the company goes public, I'll divorce him. Then, I'll make it up to you by doubling the amount of shares you'll get. You can see the big picture, right?" I smiled and stepped back. "Don't bother. The share price would have crashed. We're done, Ruby."

On Valentine's Day, I wait for my wife, Nancy Curtis, to get off work after preparing a candlelit dinner for our date. But she only texts me at 9:00 pm. "I have something going on at the company. There's no need to wait for me." Soon, I see a Facebook post made by Nancy's secretary, Derek Jones. "I'm on a business trip with my female boss on Valentine's Day. The thing is, the hotel's fully booked. Oops, this is getting awkward…" The photo in the post features a feminine silhouette standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window while draped in a bathrobe. Everyone in the comment section compliments Derek for being lucky, seeing as the boss of his has a smoking hot figure and is extremely charming. Derek merely replies with a cheeky emoji. So, it turns out that Nancy's "business" is having fun with her own secretary, eh? I take a screenshot of Derek's post before uploading it to my own social media feed. I even include a smiley as a caption. Immediately, Nancy calls me on the phone and starts berating me. "Derek was just cracking a joke! Why are you being so petty, huh? And here I thought you were mature!" I end the call immediately before texting her, "Let's get a divorce."