The Janitor, Part 5

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Summary: Derek Carter, CorpaCorp's Chief Executive Vice President, gets knocked up…by the janitor. And subsequently blackmailed by said janitor into carrying the baby (babies?) to term. And further blackmailed into doing various other disturbing things that exacerbate his expanding condition. All while fruitlessly battling an unwanted addiction to the aforementioned janitor's...impressive portfolio. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, stuffing, weight gain, butt expansion, pregnancy.

Previous Chapter 

-

The following morning, Derek swore he had gotten bigger. The shirt he had tried on the night before was no longer fitting him, instead straining at the buttons. He held his belly and stared down at it, feeling horrified. He whispered a few obscenities.

Derek could hear sound coming from the kitchen, and found himself offended that the janitor hadn’t fucked off and gone on his way. Derek walked towards the kitchen, doing his best not to waddle like some cow. When he entered, he could see that the janitor was preparing something on the counter. When Derek saw the tub of vanilla ice cream, he realized that it must be one of those milkshakes. Deeming this to be acceptable, Derek leaned back on the wall and waited.

Derek noticed that the janitor had unloaded several items onto the kitchen counter. There was butter, sugar, eggs, heavy cream, but also…pill bottles. A lot of them. Big ones, small ones; many looked like vitamin supplements, whereas some looked prescription. Derek furrowed his eyebrows.

After mixing his concoction together in Derek’s blender, the janitor filled up one of Derek’s huge 2-pint beer stein’s and brought it over to Derek.

“What did you put in that?” said Derek suspiciously, not accepting the beverage even though he was salivating.

“Some really nice stuff,” said the janitor as he idly drank Derek in, his eyes running over where the buttons strained at Derek’s navel.

“I can’t drink that shit,” Derek snapped. “I don’t know what you put in it.”

The janitor’s hand went down Derek’s pants, dipping inside to take hold of Derek’s cock. He gave a gentle squeeze and Derek instantly lost his breath, his back arching and belly jutting forward. His libido was fucking insane these days. Even when he despised and resented the man, he just wanted the janitor fucking him.

“You can, and you will,” said the janitor dangerously.

Derek took the drink. He sucked it down, filling his stomach until it ached.

“One more,” said the janitor, taking the emptied glass.

Derek grabbed hold of his shirt before he could pull away. “Fuck me first,” he entreated.

The janitor just smirked. “One more,” he reiterated, then he was refilling the glass to the brim with more of the shake.

Derek drank it despite that it was painful, his belly tight and clenching. Once finished, he gasped for breath and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He grunted as the janitor lightly patted his round belly.

The janitor unbuttoned Derek’s shirt and began to stroke it with his sticky, greasy fingers, rubbing it all over. Derek sighed and leaned more heavily on the wall. This wasn’t nearly sufficient but it still felt fucking amazing.

The janitor circled Derek’s bulging bellybutton with his thumb. “You had a growth spurt last night.” He smirked. “Was it while I was fucking you?”

Heat rose to Derek’s face. He swore, he was fucking inflating.

“Look how fat you’re getting. How many do you have in there? Barely two thirds through, and only getting bigger. You’re going to get a lot bigger.”

Derek groaned as the janitor leaned down and took a swollen nipple into his mouth. He nipped it then licked it. Derek’s chest was still growing but he tried not to think about it. But the sensation, well, the sensation wasn’t bad.

“You did a number on yourself, boss. Really took it like a bitch. Barely out of your second trimester and already this huge. You can’t even fit into your clothes. You’re not gonna fit behind your desk. You’ll barely fit through the door when my kids are through with you. VP of a fortune-five-hundred company, breeding like a bitch in heat.”

Derek panted as a janitor moved closer. The large mound between them was awkward, but they made it work, pressing it between them. The janitor seemed to enjoy the sensation of the huge swell.

“Get ready to grow to the size of a blimp,” the janitor taunted. “You’re my breeder, my baby factory. You’re gonna be a real bitch. Pushing out all those babies I filled you with.”

-

Derek had tits.

He might as well admit it.

He stared down at the full B-cups on his chest, breathing heavily, wondering what the hell was happening to his body. His nipples were swollen, erect, and achy. Just the sensation of their existence was terribly arousing.

He donned two undershirts that didn’t fully pull down over his belly, but at least would smooth out the prominence of his chest a little. In addition to one of the custom-made button-down shirts he had ordered online, he pulled on an amorphous, baggy sweater. Not exactly professional, but it was the best he could do.

When Derek made his way into the office that morning, he could feel more people than usual looking his way as he passed. When he said good morning to one of the corporate lawyers, she just stared at him. There were even some whispers that followed him as he walked. Clutching his briefcase in front of him, Derek went directly to his corner office. He closed the door and puffed out a long breath as he cupped his navel. He knew that he wasn’t nearly hiding this anymore. His changes were obvious, and it was only getting worse.

Before Derek could even start to get settled, he heard a furious pounding on his office door. His receptionist wasn’t in yet so there was no one to screen his visitors.

“One minute –” Derek started.

But the door burst open. Derek stood frozen as one of the company’s top investors, Felix Shepherd, barged into the room.

Felix’s his eyes immediately shot to Derek’s abdomen. “‘the hell is this? Take off that trash bag,” Felix demanded.

Derek tensed. “If you mean my sweater, it was a gift from my grandmother.”

“Do you think I’m here for jokes, Carter?”

“Then what can I help you with, Mr. Shepherd? Or did you come here specifically to critique my wardrobe?”

Felix shoved a newspaper into Derek’s face. Derek paled at seeing his image stamped right in the middle of the business section.

It was of him seated at the pews in church last week, looking like a depressed elephant. He was slumped in his seat, his hands cradling his blatantly huge belly.

“What the hell?” Derek attempted to snatch the paper, but Felix pulled it away.

“CorpaCorp Senior Vice President, Derek Carter, spotted out and about and decidedly pregnant,” Felix read. “Though long seen as a myth, rare occurrences of male pregnancy have been popping up around the world in recent years. There have only been a handful of documented cases, and are exclusively caused by anal sexual relations. Carter, a conservative, has been outspoken in his condemnation of gay marriage and other gay rights. A devout Catholic, Carter may be concerned about the appearance of hypocrisy going forward. The revelation of his condition begs many questions, among them: How long has Carter been covertly engaging in homosexual relations? And who is the father, exactly? CorpaCorp often touts their reputation as a family company, frowning on all things from premarital sex to homosexuality and the sheer existence of male pregnancy. In light of Carter’s condition, they may start to rethink the executives on their roster when contracts are up this fall.”

“Shit,” was all Derek could say for a moment. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“So it’s true?” said Felix. He gave Derek another once over. “Who am I kidding, you look like you swallowed a fucking melon. What the hell is wrong with you? And why didn’t you fucking get rid of it?”

“It’s complicated,” Derek spat back, feeling his life start to crumble around him. He made his way to his desk. He had to sit down. He eased his ass down into his chair, clutching his belly as Felix made a noise of disbelief.

“You’re about to blow,” said Felix, shaking his head. “How were you intending to hide a fucking baby?”

“Shut up,” said Derek, his head pounding.

“We have to get in front of it,” Felix decided.

That might’ve been Derek’s only option. It was out. It was fucking out. And the full might of his extremely traditional company was going to crash down on him unless he made things right.

“Schedule a press conference,” said Derek, feeling sick.

They put one together for that very afternoon. The media room was swarming with press, all rabid for something hot and controversial. It had been a very long time since something as juicy as this had shaken up the business world.

It took Derek twenty minutes to convince himself to walk out onto the platform. When he did, he was nearly blinded by camera flashes, capturing his form at every angle.

The baggy sweater was gone. Now he was wearing a fitted button down that showed everything from his huge swell, to his bloated ass, and even the B-cups sitting perky on his chest. Derek made his way to the podium, hiding what he could of himself behind it.

“Thank you all for coming today,” he forced out, despite that he felt like he was choking on his heart as it pounded in his throat. But he would have to get through this. His whole fucking life depended on it. “I understand that many of you have questions, and I intend to get through as many as I can. But firstly, I would like to proudly apprise you of my condition. Yes, I am pregnant. As you can see, I’m pretty far into it. I intended to keep this a private matter as it is a bit of a distraction, but now I realize that was wrong. It’s important to go public so that others can see, not only the reality of male pregnancy, but the miracle as well. I couldn’t be happier.” He tried not to grimace as he said the last sentence. “Now…ah…for questions?”

The reporters exploded into yammers, each of them raising their hands and entreating for his attention.

“Mr. Carter Mr. Carter!

“Derek, over here!”

“You,” Derek pointed to one of the reporters in the front row.

“Paul Schmidt with NZK News. Mr. Carter, how did this happen?”

Derek felt himself flush. His belly heaved, his insides lurching. He absently rubbed it behind the podium. “I hate to be the one to break it to you Mr. Schmidt, but there’s only one way for this sort of thing to happen.” There were some chuckles around the room. “Yes, you.” Derek pointed at another reporter.

“Terry with World National. Was this pregnancy planned?”

“I don’t think you can plan a male pregnancy. It’s just so rare. But it was a…delightful surprise,” Derek’s words were stilted. “And you, in the back.”

“Trent Gibbs from Business Now. Does this mean you’re officially out of the closet?”

“Who said I ever was?” Derek responded, to several mutters amongst the crowd. Great, now he was officially posing as a gay man. He hadn’t thought his predicament could get even worse.

“How far along are you?” another reporter asked.

“That’s between me and my physician,” Derek responded. “Those are all the questions I have time for today,” he added to an uproar of protest. “Thank you for coming. CorpaCorp has some great product launches coming up, so keep your eye out for upcoming announcements.” Then Derek was walking off the stage, again assaulted with a multitude of flashing lights as reporters got snapshots of his substantial profile. He was just glad to disappear back into the building, where he avoided the eyes of his many colleagues standing around, staring at him. Staring at what he had become.

“That’s enough distraction for the day,” Derek said calmly. “Let’s all get back to work.” Then he took retreat in his office.

-

But it didn’t end there. Derek was a hot topic for days, and few scandals in the business world came close to topping his, not even when CEO Kurt Glade at Veranill got caught skimming millions off client accounts then abruptly absconded to Nepal, disappearing into some cave system in the mountains.

Reporters camped outside of the building and hounded Derek with questions every time you came or went. He had stopped trying to disguise the bulge. He was now posing as a proud father-to-be, rather than the mutant pariah that he knew he truly was.

He was all over the news, pundits criticizing him relentlessly for his blatant hypocrisy. People held up signs outside of the corporate offices, demanding that he step down, or calling him out as a gay homophobe and hypocrite.

None of this looked good for his upcoming contract negotiations. Derek knew he should have been strategizing damage control, but he was overwhelmed and exhausted.

He started arriving at work two hours early just to avoid the circus. One morning he heaved himself out of his car, clutching the underside of his belly. He felt as though he was getting heavier every day. His was the only car in that area of the parking garage, but he appreciated the privacy. He closed his car door and waddled slowly towards the elevators, when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Derek started to turn.

He was suddenly shoved so roughly, the air was knocked the out of his lungs. He found himself pressed hard into a wall, a hand roughly cupping at his belly. He looked up to meet the gaze of a stranger with disheveled clothes and crazed eyes. He had a slim physique, and Derek was certain he could have put up a good fight, had he not had several babies about to explode from his torso.

“Oh god, it’s real,” the stranger said with a deranged grin. He pressed into Derek as he ripped the bottom buttons of Derek’s shirt apart so he could plant his hands against the smooth swell there. “You’re positively stuffed. And what do we have here?” The stranger freed a hand to grab Derek’s left breast, causing a grunt to escape Derek’s throat. The stranger squeezed.

“Ngghhh…” groaned Derek. “What do you want? I — I have money —”

There was a flash of metal. He was suddenly holding a pocket knife to Derek’s belly. “I want to know if this male pregnancy thing is real or not. It’s a hoax, right? You can’t really have a baby in there. But you’re just huge. How would it get in there?”

“Fuck, yes, I am,” Derek stammered, close to hysterical. “I have m-multiples. I-it’s moving. See.” Derek pulled at his torn shirt, exposing the side of his belly, where the faintest flutter of movement was detectable under his skin. “I had s-sex. With a man. I bent down, and took it, and now I’m really fucking pregnant!”

There was a roar, and a flash of movement, and suddenly his assailant was being tackled to the ground. Derek watched in shock as the stranger and a security guard struggled on the floor until the guard managed to knock the knife away. He pinned the stranger down on his chest while pulling his arms behind him.

“You okay, sir?” the guard gasped out, looking back up at Derek.

But Derek could hardly speak. He just nodded, standing frozen as several other security guards descended on the scene.