Addicted IV

Note: This is a story-prompt for skyshield.

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John had taken the kids and left a year or two (or three) ago. Emma wasn’t sure what she thought about that. It was hard to think, at all, when she lived in such a chronic state of bodily completion.

Her belly was taking up all of the room by then, beginning to press into the living room wall. She would have to get that removed. Her swollen body was no longer accommodated by a king sized-bed (or the two that John had shoved together in the days before he realized he was through with her). Instead a bed had been made for her on the floor, comprised of blankets, pillows, and soft, fluffy animal beds.

Emma couldn’t say how many pregnancies she had undergone, or whose offspring she was carrying anymore. Things had begun to overlap at some point, and she was actually able to get herself re-impregnated, resulting in babies with all different gestational ages.

The pleasure of growth was ceaseless, but the numerous litters confused her body to no end. In result, she had missed her last several due dates. In fact, Jean was still waiting for her children. Emma had to be years overdue.

Emma wasn’t certain that she even could give birth anymore, and yet she continued to take on jobs. A hopeful couple here, a desperate woman there—none were rejected. She allowed herself to be inseminated again and again, and in consequence, surged with the growth of each litter of babies. There were some clients who didn’t even seem interested in children. Women who stared at her with amorous eyes, as though they couldn’t believe she was real. Men who offered their contribution to her mass while explicitly stating that they had no interest in any offspring that came of it. Emma took them on as well.

She was certain that she would have to take down all the walls in the house in only another few months. Soon she probably wouldn’t even be able to fit inside the house anymore.

Emma’s belly was as high as it was wide, brushing into the ceiling by then. She squirmed feebly on the floor near its bottom, spread wide, and attached to it, hugging it continuously as it throbbed constantly and suffered frequent surges of growth prickling her skin with inches of expansion. It happened a few times every hour, and left her groaning in pleasure, her loins seeping.

It happened then. Emma arched and moaned as her belly heaved with tension that didn’t loosen, instead rising up, as though it was being pumped with air or fluid. She knew it was baby flesh, the infants packed, squirming within her. She could hardly believe how big they were getting. She couldn’t believe how big she was.

Her two breasts were massive globes of flesh, each the circumference of a car tire by then, while being nearly perfectly spherical. Her ass was perched on the floor behind her, two massive mounds of fat even larger than her tits, throbbing, growing, pushing out behind her.

Her groin was huge and plump, fatly engorged, as though in constant preparation for birthing, but that never seemed to occur.

Her legs widened and quavered as she experienced another electrifying surge of belly-growth. It felt so good she feared she would pass out.

The sound of the doorbell ringing brought her down from her pleasure, leaving her flushed and sweaty, faint but conscious. “Ngghh…” Her eyelids fluttered, but she managed to lift them. Thinking that one of her home care aides had come by, she gasped out, “Come in!”

The front door opened the closed, after which two people came to stand in her bedroom doorway, but they weren’t the aides.

It’s was Emma’s agent, Pam, and she had brought a ruggedly handsome man who was staring at Emma intently, his look of shock giving way to pure arousal. He bit his lip and his nostrils flare.

“I brought you a potential new client,” said Pam in a self-satisfied way. She threw Emma a grin and a wink.

Emma stared back at the man, her heart pounding. She unconsciously licked her lips. “Let’s talk numbers.”