Cover model (Breeder part 2)

Chapter 2: Playbump, 1982

Evelyn sat in the living room, her arms folded tightly over her chest. Her mother, Maria, paced near the window, her phone pressed to her ear. Despite Evelyn’s protests, Maria had insisted on calling her own mother—Evelyn’s grandmother—for backup.

“She’ll be here in ten minutes,” Maria said, hanging up and turning to face her daughter. “She’s bringing something that might help you understand.”

“Understand what?” Evelyn snapped. “That this family is insane? Because trust me, I’ve got that part figured out already.”

Maria sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, she sat down on the couch across from Evelyn, silent for once.

True to her word, ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Maria opened it, and in walked Clara. Evelyn had only met her grandmother a few times before—usually at Christmas or other family gatherings—but she always seemed to fill whatever space she entered. Even now, in her seventies, Clara was a commanding presence. She wore a flowing dress in a bright floral print, her silver hair teased into a voluminous style that hinted at her 1980s heyday.

“Evelyn,” Clara said warmly, crossing the room to pull her granddaughter into a firm hug. “Your mother told me everything. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Evelyn squirmed in her grasp, uncomfortable. “Confused,” she muttered.

“Well,” Clara said, releasing her and smiling brightly, “I brought something that might help.” She reached into her oversized purse and pulled out a glossy, faded magazine. “This,” she said, holding it up, “is Playbump, May 1982.”

Evelyn stared at the cover. The title was bold and steel with blue shadow, its sharp letters glowing against a backdrop of misty greenery. The centerpiece of the cover was unmistakable: a massively pregnant woman standing in front of a waterfall, her hands cradling a belly that looked almost comically large. Her skin glowed bronze, stretched tight over a dome that jutted outward like a monument to fertility. Her face was framed by puffy, hairsprayed 1980s hair, face looking strained from the weight but confident.

“That’s… you,” Evelyn said, blinking in disbelief.

Clara chuckled, flipping the magazine toward herself to glance at it. “It sure is. I was six months along with fourteen babies in this photo—the first pregnancy of its kind back then.”

“Fourteen?” Evelyn whispered, the number making her stomach twist.

Clara nodded, settling into a chair. “That was before breeders were a thing. Fertility rates had just started to plummet, and people were desperate for hope. Pregnancy became this… unattainable fantasy for most people. And when I started showing with multiples, well…” She gestured to the magazine. “People couldn’t get enough of it.”

Maria leaned against the arm of the couch, her arms crossed. “Mom was a sensation. The first woman in the world to carry so many babies at once.”

“I was popular,” Clara admitted with a coy smile. “But it wasn’t just about fame. It was about giving people something to believe in again. Pregnancy became more than just a biological process—it was a symbol of survival. Of hope. And, well, people found it beautiful.”

Evelyn snorted. “Beautiful? You look like a balloon with legs.”

Clara laughed, not offended in the slightest. “Oh, honey, you’re not the first person to say that. But you’d be surprised how many people thought I was the most stunning thing they’d ever seen. Playbump wasn’t just a fluke—I ended up on a dozen magazine covers that year alone.”

Evelyn glanced back down at the magazine. Her eyes kept drifting to her grandmother’s belly, which seemed larger every time she looked at it. She tried to imagine herself standing in Clara’s place, her own body swollen to that size. The thought sent a shiver through her, and that same strange tingle from earlier began to creep through her body. She clenched her fists, trying to shake it off.

“You… liked it?” Evelyn asked hesitantly. “Being that big?”

Clara’s smile widened. “Liked it? I loved it. There’s no feeling in the world like carrying so much life inside you. Every kick, every movement, every stretch—it was magical. And the attention didn’t hurt, either.”

Evelyn frowned, still trying to reconcile the surreal image of her grandmother with the words coming out of her mouth. “But how did you manage it? You’re so… huge in this picture. How could you even walk?”

Clara waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, walking wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. By the last month, I mostly waddled around or stayed on bed rest. But it was worth it. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt powerful. Like I was doing something no one else could do. And when those babies were born, I gave every single one of them to families who couldn’t have children of their own. Seeing their faces when I handed over those little bundles of joy…” Her voice softened. “It made everything worth it.”

Maria chimed in. “Mom was the inspiration for the breeding program, you know. Scientists studied her for years, trying to figure out how her body could handle so much. When they realized other women could do it too, it changed everything.”

Clara nodded. “I don’t regret a second of it. I was pregnant as often as I could be after that. Every pregnancy felt like a gift, not just to me but to the world.”

Evelyn’s mind raced. She stared at the magazine again, her throat dry. She tried to imagine herself standing in front of that waterfall, her body transformed. Her belly would be so massive it would block her view of her feet, her hands barely able to reach around it. Dozens of tiny lives would be squirming inside her, their movements constant reminders of her purpose.

The thought sent a warm shiver down her spine. She pressed her thighs together, her cheeks burning as the tingle deepened. She hated it—hated the way her body was reacting, the way her mind kept conjuring images she didn’t want to see.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Clara said, her tone knowing.

Evelyn’s head snapped up, her face flushed. “No! I mean… I don’t know! This is all just so weird.”

Clara reached over and patted her hand. “It’s not weird, sweetheart. It’s natural. And if you decide to embrace it, you could do something extraordinary.”

Evelyn didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her mind was too full of images she didn’t understand—images she couldn’t seem to push away.