Farm Girl, Part 3
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Note: This is a female version of Farm Boy.
Summary: A high school senior, Megan noticed that her older sister has been dipping into the chemical on their parents' farm, and has been gaining a lot of weight. A bit disgusted, a bit curious, Megan tries the chemical hormones herself, and experiences the best high of her life. She quickly introduces the chemical to her two best friends, and the three progressively get addicted, all while experiencing incidental changes, such as butt growth, breast development, belly expansion, in addition to other, stranger, things. Contains: Female: pregnancy, breast expansion, multiple breasts, breast-belly, butt expansion, weight gain, and more. Also, issues of drug addiction.
-
Days passed, and things continued to develop, oddly.
Megan’s chest was only getting bigger and plumper, and for the first time in her life she had full breasts, ones that even rivaled the size of some of the girls in her high school. It was such a change from spending her adolescence as the flat-chested girl.
At first Megan took to just squeezing herself into her increasingly tight and ill-fitting bras, but when the bras just got to be too uncomfortable, she started wearing layered undershirts. She felt suffocated otherwise.
The material felt uncomfortable on her tender flesh and achy nipples. She found herself fidgeting a lot, feeling overheated, constantly wanting relief. But she was scared of her parents finding out just how much she was developing.
She just couldn’t deal with them fretting over her the way they fretted over her sister. Or worse, people at school finding out about her seemingly belated puberty. It was her last year of high school and she preferred to graduate without being sexually harassed.
Her friends didn’t seem to be faring much better than her. Megan discreetly eyed them that afternoon as the trio gathered near one of the barns.
Sam’s gut was getting worrisomely large. It now resembled a forming beer-gut, stretching out her shirt, though it looked rather firm. Sam didn’t make any comment about it, she just scratched at it from time to time. As naïve as Sam was, it was hard to tell if she even noticed it. If it was bothering her, she didn’t mention anything. Meg wasn’t even sure if Sam acknowledged the weight gain as odd.
Jane had put on weight as well, and like Megan and Sam, it seemed localized. In her butt. Jane’ butt was expanding, sticking out, stretching out the seats of her pants. Jane had taken to donning sweatpants either to reduce the blatancy of her ass growth or because her other pants just didn’t fit her anymore. She also took to wearing baggy shirts that she pulled down over her ass, but there was little hiding the protruding mound.
Unlike Sam, Jane seemed distinctly uncomfortable. But just like the other two, she made no mention of the embarrassing changes her body was going through.
God, Megan thought as she stared at her friends. Their growth was so obvious. Was her growth obvious? Did everyone know what was going on under her shirt?
Megan dismissed the idea. It wasn’t as though breast-growth was all that odd, anyway. She was eighteen, but still growing. And anyway, her chest was hidden well enough. She had already adjusted her diet to decrease her calorie intake. Things were going to be fine.
They stood in a loaded, hesitative silence. Megan wondered which of them would be the first to address the elephant (elephants?) in the room.
No one stepped up.
“You have the powder?” said Jane, getting straight to business. They were always jonesing by this time, after a long day of school.
“Let’s go,” said Megan, pulling the sandwich bag full of powder out of her pocket.
It wasn’t just embarrassment that kept the trio from talking about their bodily changes. It was the burden that came with acknowledging their changes as side-effects, and the potential solution to that. Stopping the drug. No one wanted to risk it. Things were just so good at present. What did a little weight gain matter anyway?
-
Early one morning, Megan awoke sweating heavily. It was before sunrise, and it didn’t’ take her long to realize what had roused her. Her body was hot, her chest tingling, and her nipples aching in pain but also in need. Her loins were tingling, and she was so close to the cusp, she found herself gasping.
She needed to cool down. In just her pajama shorts and a tank top, Megan got up and shuffled out of her bedroom, heading for the bathroom down the hall. She crossed her arms over her bloated chest in case she bumped into anyone. She locked herself in the bathroom and climbed into the shower, dousing herself for just a minute in cool water. Her nipples stung more, and her fingers twitched to touch them, but the water was pacifying enough that she was able to resist.
Megan got out of the shower, toweled herself off, and waited a few moments until she stopped shivering. She got dressed and paused to survey herself. She stared at the way her breasts bulged out in her shirt. They were full and soft—they had to be B-cups by then. Her nipples protruded out visibly in her shirt, and the mounds were honestly perfect. Sometimes she wondered why she was fighting this anyway. People would accept her late development, even see it as normal, probably.
Still, she tried not to touch them in general. She tried not to pay too much attention to them but they seemed to be growing bigger every day.
Lightly shaking her head, Megan left the bathroom, making a beeline for her room, but she couldn’t help noticing the beam of light down the hall where her sister’s bedroom door stood ajar. Megan found it so typical that Amy would make the same mistake twice. Of course, the first time had been a dream. …hadn’t it been? Megan felt her legs moving, felt herself drawing closer to the strip of light, as though magnetized by it. It made sense that Amy would be up this early. She had college midterms this week. She would be heading off to the library for some last-minute studying. It was probably entirely innocent.
Megan continued to covertly approach her sister’s bedroom door. Maybe she wanted confirmation that Amy’s weird, massive, belly-breast—thing—hadn’t actually been real. Maybe she wanted…something else. She didn’t know and she was too distracted to really think about it. She laid her hands on the doorframe, took a deep breath, and peeked through the opening.
Amy wasn’t sprawled back in bed beneath a beach ball of a belly as she had been in Megan’s dream about her.
No.
Instead Amy was standing upright, back straining to support the same beach ball of a belly, the massive one, that looked at full-term with triplets (albeit more jiggly), the belly that seemed to inexplicably shrink down in size during the day, but was egregiously massive at present.
Amy was straining into some sort of material contraption, face red as she struggled to wrap it around herself, her belly. It was maybe a girdle of some sort, a…was it a…maternity girdle?
Amy was panting heavily, struggling, fumbling. She backed into the wall, leaning on it for leverage as she grunted and puffed out frustrated breaths until finally she managed to close the first latch on the girdle.
Gasping for breath, face red, Amy closed the remaining latches, until her mound was tightly compressed, so much so that Amy could hardly seem to inhale. A patch of moisture bloomed on the face of the girdle, and Amy cursed quietly, laying her hand on the side of her mound. Lightly shaking her head, Amy pulled a huge T-shit over herself. She had gone from looking hugely pregnant to just beer-fat again, her belly looking quite large, but nowhere near as obscenely massive as it actually was in reality. Megan could only stare gaping, speechless as Amy wiped some sweat from her brow. Megan wondered how long her sister had been growing. How long she’d been trying to…hide it, in this way. Megan felt herself backing away from Amy’s bedroom door. As quietly as she could, she slipped back into her own room, where she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, absolutely stunned.
-
Megan wished it had been a dream. But now she knew that both instances that she’d spied on her sister had been utter reality.
The following afternoon she sat in her bedroom, still a little dazed by the morning’s events. Sam and Jane were present, riding out their highs, slowly coming out of it. The trio had begun to worry less and less about the prospect of getting caught, now routinely getting high in Megan’s bedroom with Megan’s parents downstairs only a few dozen feet away.
Meg gazed around at her friends. They looked entirely content, Jane perched in Megan’s desk chair, and Sam slumped back on a bean bag. Megan herself was sprawled across the width of her bed. “Do you think we should stop?” she blurted out, even as she licked some residue of the drug off her finger.
Sam and Jane looked at her in shock.
“Hell no,” said Jane, getting up.
“Are you insane?” said Sam, struggling a bit under her weight.
And they were right, in fact, echoing the sentiments that filled Megan’s own head. She looked at Jane’ plump ass—a nice ass at that. Not that Megan was gay or anything. It was just a fat, plump ass that looked juicy in its perfection. It looked as though it was surgically enhanced, as though Jane had gotten implants or injections. It stretched out Jane’ tight leggings, the material hugging the mass and sinking deep into her crack no matter how much Jane fidgeted for relief.
Sam was a different story. She was just getting round, her belly firm and bulging, making her look seven months into a pregnancy. Sam often hiccupped or patted her mound fondly. Megan sometimes eyed Sam’s stretched shirts, looking for the protrusion of the odd massive nipple that Amy’s belly had developed. But Sam’s belly button remained inward as far as Megan could tell, and her belly didn’t have the characteristic softness of Amy’s, but remained firm-looking. Megan didn’t know whether or not to see this as a good sign.
“You’re right,” she said absently, glancing down at her shirt, where her breasts were uncomfortably confined, yet still beginning to puff her top out, because there was only so much the layered undershirts could hide.
She could no longer imagine her life now without the daily highs. It was indisputably worth it to feel this good, this happy and unburdened, and she just couldn't—couldn’t—go back to the way things had been before. She didn’t think she would survive it.
So if she continued to grow, that would just be incidental to her new self. The high was more important. “Just kidding,” she murmured.
-
Amy’s shirt was wet all the time, even in front of their parents. She was…leaking, and dripping white stuff—her, her milk—all over the place, and her parents didn’t know what to think about it. Maybe they were baffled. Maybe they thought it was sweat. Megan found the whole thing to be weird and fascinating, that her sister had developed a giant breast where her lean midsection had once been.
Amy tried to keep to her bedroom most of the time. When she wasn’t, she could be seen huffing and puffing, flushed and huge, even with her girdle on. She was blowing up, and their parents’ frustration had turned to anguish. They were worried about Amy’s health. There was talk of specialists, therapists, even consults with bariatric surgeons. After one final fight, Amy had had enough. She made on her threats and left. Megan couldn’t blame her.
It was actually kind of a relief to the uneasiness Megan felt whenever her gaze had crossed her sister’s expanding body.
It had made Megan uneasy about her own changes, her own—breasts. Would they just keep growing? They hadn’t stopped yet.
The mounds were as plump as ever, and incredibly tender. They were full Cs by then, and were stubbornly pushing into visibility despite Megan’s efforts to conceal them. Most of the day Megan either felt uncomfortable or aroused by the heated mounds. Her grades were near perfect, her spirits higher than ever, but her breasts remained a constant distraction that resulted in her thinking about them constantly, and fidgeting to touch them. And hell, it might have been time to indulge.
