Portal into Pregnancy (Patreon)

— No, damn it, no! There was just a portal there — Stefania muttered, trying not to scream but still unable to hold back her emotions, running her palms over the cold metal of the back wall of the locker as if she could push through the steel or at least shove it aside to bring that passage back.

She leaned in harder, as if trying to crawl inside, but her huge belly immediately pressed against the edge of the metal shelf, and she had to jerk back sharply so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

— Shit… — she exhaled, instinctively wrapping both arms around her stomach, unable to believe that this massive bulge was now part of her body.

At that moment, as if in response, a strong, clear blow with a heel or elbow came from inside, right under her palms, making the skin on her stomach stretch even tighter, and the red swimsuit let out a quiet but distinct ripping sound along the side seam.

Stefania froze, her breath caught. Her eyes widened even more.

— Oh… — slipped out of her, short, almost plaintive. She reached her hand back into the locker. — I can’t get stuck like this, damn it...

— Stuck how? — a pleasant female voice filled with notes of kindness and care sounded right by her ear, and she recognized it immediately.

— Mo… Mom!? — Stefania exhaled sharply as she turned her head in surprise, her high ponytail whipping against the metal locker door.

From the sudden movement she swayed. The huge belly pulled her forward, her center of gravity shifted, and she had to grab the edge of the door desperately so she wouldn’t fall. The metal painfully dug into her palm, and something inside the locker clattered down.

— Careful, sweetheart, — her mother’s voice was calm, even slightly amused. She easily, as if it were the most ordinary gesture, placed her hand on Stefania’s shoulder, helping her straighten up. — You must have something important in there if you’re searching so hard.

Stefania looked at her and couldn’t say a word, and of course it was understandable, because just a few minutes ago she had been Stefan Reid — a thirty-six-year-old owner of a chain of fitness clubs in Illinois, who was inspecting one of the potential gyms, especially the locker rooms, planning to add it to his franchise after a full renovation — and instead now she was standing in a cramped cheap locker room of a sports section, sideways to a row of gray-green lockers, with a huge belly stretching the bright red swimsuit until it shone, and she could feel the baby moving under her skin again.

— You’ve gone pale, Steffie, — the woman in the sweater said softly. — You shouldn’t get so nervous in the ninth month.

'Ninth?' flashed through her mind, and she immediately swallowed, feeling her throat tighten.

— I… I just… — her voice broke into a high, trembling pitch. — Mom, what are you doing here?!

Her mother looked at her and, tilting her head, spoke as if she were a five-year-old girl.

— What am I doing here? — she repeated with mild surprise. — Waiting for my daughter after her prenatal aqua aerobics. You asked me yourself to pick you up because “my legs are swollen, Mom, and the bag is heavy, and it’s scary to walk to the car alone.” Remember? Or did you forget again that you now have the memory of a goldfish on hormones?

Stefania opened her mouth, but at that moment the baby kicked inside again, this time even harder, as if showing its own anger, making her wince.

— I… didn’t ask you, — Stefania breathed out, automatically hugging her belly from underneath, supporting it. — Shit, I need to get inside!

She turned to the locker, clearly realizing that all of this was just some kind of nonsense or a strange dream or, hell knows, whatever this could be. None of this could be real — could it really be real that while checking the locker room she, back when she was still he, saw a strange glow inside a locker, and when he opened the back panel he saw a copy of this same locker room there, even though by all the laws of physics there should have been a street behind it? Everyone had disappeared at that moment for some reason, and Stefan, following his curiosity, climbed inside — and came out here. In this body. With this belly.

— Sweetheart, what are you doing?! Where the hell are you climbing?!

Stefania had already squeezed herself almost waist-deep into the locker, as far as her belly allowed, her hand finally feeling that precious “button” or something like it, and she saw the glow again. "YES! Just a little more!" was spinning in her head as the metal of the locker pressed unpleasantly into her ribs and the edge of the shelf dug into the lower part of the bulge. She literally had to lift her belly with her palm from underneath just to push forward at least a little, but it still got in the way.

— What the fuck are you doing, you pregnant idiot?! — her mother hissed through her teeth, grabbing her by the hips and yanking her back sharply, but Stefania put all her strength into it and still pushed herself forward.

She literally growled through clenched teeth, bracing her shoulders against the metal walls. The palm under her belly trembled from strain, trying, like before, to simply suck her stomach in to squeeze through. But it wouldn’t suck in, it was blocking her from moving forward, even though her hand was already sticking out on the other side of the other reality and she could already see her fingers — male and hairy like before.

— Get out of there right now! — her mother was already pulling her by the hips.

And at that moment her belly tightened sharply, and this was no longer like a kick or the baby moving. No, it was a real contraction, and right after it a wave rolled from her back and passed through her whole belly, crashing downward with such force that Stefania screamed.

— Aah…!

Stefania froze in that ridiculous position — waist-deep inside the locker, one hand on the other side, her fingers already visible in the bright locker room of her club, while her body was trapped here, in this cramped section with peeling paint.

Her belly turned to stone, as if it had become a heavy ball bursting her from the inside. A wave of pain started in her lower back, rolled through the whole roundness, and struck downward with such force that her legs buckled.

— Oh God… This isn’t a practice one anymore! — her mother pulled her harder.

Stefania dug her fingers into the edge of the metal wall with that other, male hand of hers, but another contraction forced her to unclench it at once, and before her eyes the male palm crossing the border between the worlds inside the locker turned in moments into a thin female hand with neat, oval nails on fingers spread wide from strain.

— No-o-o!… — she rasped.

The glow inside the locker flickered and sharply narrowed into a dot, turning back into an ordinary metal wall, and the border between the worlds snapped shut with a quiet, almost audible click.

Stefania immediately howled, not even from the contraction, but from some instinctive and merciless realization that it was over and there was no way back.

— Mom… mom… it… it took my hand… — she sobbed, tears running down her cheeks, mixing with sweat. — I… I’m not anymore…

Her mother wasn’t listening. Finally pulling her daughter out, she had already started calling an ambulance and shouting to all the women who were there to bring towels, clean cloths from their bags, boiling water from the cooler — anything, as long as they didn’t just stand there frozen.

— An ambulance! Faster! She’s in labor! Right here! — her mother’s voice broke into a shriek, the phone pressed to her ear, and with her free hand she held Stefania by the shoulders so she wouldn’t slide all the way down to the floor.

And meanwhile Stefania felt like she was falling apart and being put back together at the same time: in her head that quiet click of the closed portal was still ringing, erasing the last outlines of the name “Stefan,” and low in her belly a powerful, relentless pressure was building, leaving room for nothing else at that moment. She clenched her thin fingers against the tile, spreading her legs wide, feeling how her body was taking control on its own, how every muscle was working not by her command but by some ancient, precise mechanism that could not be stopped or tricked, and beside her a voice sounded: — Breathe, Steffie, breathe.