Campus, Part 1

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Summary: When Sam leaves home for the first time and starts college, she immediately notices that her campus has a shockingly high fertility rate, among other things. Women walk around with swollen bellies and heavy multiples-pregnancies. Some just tout along fat bellies with no children contained inside of them as they stuff themselves relentlessly with food. Some women have monstrously massive breasts, or hugely swollen asses. And the men all seem to be hung like bulls. When Sam finds herself starting to put on weight herself, she tries to escape the campus, but all her efforts seem to just lead her in circles. In the meantime, she swells. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, pregnancy, weight gain, birth.

-

It was her first day of college, and Sam found herself staring at her classmates during Calculus.

At eighteen, she was well-aware of the increasing sexuality of people in their late-teens and early twenties, but this…this was a bit much.

Her new campus seemed to have a shockingly high fertility rate, and Sam had doubts as to whether this was a normal, college thing. Girls heaved around massive, pregnant bellies on their torsos—too big to be normal or healthy. Many of them actually looked happily overdue as their bellies bulged over their waistbands and strained their button-downs. They were absolutely huge.

The girls who weren’t pregnant touted around massive tits, gigantic round asses, ridiculously voluptuous hips, or they were simply really fat, with thick hips that rubbed together, plump cheeks, soft shoulders, and squishy guts. A thin girl waddled about with a swollen belly bulging out in front of her. At first, Sam thought that she was pregnant, but as the girl sat down, Sam saw the way her belly indented at the navel into two plump rolls of fat. Her mass wasn’t the product of fertility but sheer gluttony.

Sam grimaced and turned away, but found her gaze straying to another student, this one seated beside her. Two blotches of moisture began to seep into the girl’s blouse. The girl had a pregnant belly, possibly at term. Her fat EE-cup breasts sat perched on her large abdomen. At noticing her leakage, she stood with some effort, huffing and puffing, her full cheeks flushing. She proceeded to waddle out of the room, the pregnant professor barely minding as she left. A few seats down, another female student had a whole box of custard donuts perched on her desk, and was enthusiastically stuffing them into her mouth. Sam eyed the girl’s tight shirt, her belly still small, maybe in the fifth month of pregnancy, assuming it wasn’t just fat. Regardless of which it was, the girl was certain to blow up quite fast to match her peers, if her eating habits were any indication.

Astonished by it all, Sam found herself flipping through the college brochure, but there was no sign of pregnant students amongst all the smiling imagines. There was no mention of high fertility rates in the city or fertility services on campus. Sam’s attention was torn away from her brochure when the professor released a sharp groan.

In the skirt she was wearing, it was clear that Professor Peters was leaking…fluid…down the insides of her legs, where it was making a puddle on the floor. She was breathing thinly, her belly heaving up and down. It was massively large and incredibly low. The professor feebly clutched it with one hand as she leaned on the desk with the other. Then she made a vain effort to waddle for the door.

As the professor wobbled by the class, Sam marveled at how truly massive she was. She looked as though she was overdue with triplets, her belly cradled low on her hips, as the professor pawed at different parts of it, releasing short sobs of discomfort. She stopped and groaned again, her back arching. Students got up and hurried to their instructor’s aid, even pregnant ones who looked ready to pop themselves.

“It’s coming!” Professor Peters cried, spreading her legs and hunching slightly. Sam could see a bulge pushing out at the spandex material of her skirt.

Sam sat in silent shock as the professor proceeded to pop out three babies, one after the next. Flushed and sweaty, the professor was just getting started on a fourth when the bell rang.

“Nrrgghhhh…oohhhhhh…don’t forget to read chapter four!” the professor cried as students awkwardly shuffled off, newborns wailing around them. A few students remained to continue to aid the professor as she gave birth to her hoard of babies, one even serving as an impromptu wet nurse.

Minutes later, Sam sat in the library feeling dazed.

Even the guys seemed blatantly fertile, their huge packages bulging out prominently in their pants as they swaggered around. After finding herself staring at the school librarian’s package for several moments too long, Sam quickly grabbed up her books and headed back to her dorm.

That night, Sam did not sleep well. She tossed and turned, sweating through her pajamas as she dreamt of calloused hands sliding against her skin, warm lips ghosting against her stomach, skillful fingers stroking between her thighs as she was pinned harder against the mattress, as she was—

“Oh god!” Sam gasped awake, and it took her several moments to realize she was alone. She shuddered in remembrance of the dream, her skin prickling wherever her dream-companion’s body had made contact with hers. It had been so realistic.

Sam fell back and stared at the ceiling for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. Shaking off the final remnants of the dream, she got up to take a shower.

As she washed herself, Sam quickly came to notice that her body had changed slightly. Her usually flat stomach was slightly bloated. She wondered if her period was coming, but recalled that she’d already had it two weeks ago.

And this seemed worse than hormonal bloating. She ran her hands over the firm expanse of flesh that bulged up from her pelvis to navel. It was startling to see such abrupt weight gain. She had only gotten to the campus about a week ago.

Admittedly the cafeteria food was rich, much heavier than the meals Sam was accustomed to eating at home. She sighed and decided that she would get her dinners from the salad bar for the time being, at least until her body was back to normal.

But things only worsened.

Over the next few weeks, her weight steadily crept up, sometimes by a whole pound a day, and it was only exacerbating.

Soon her breasts were full mounds rather than the slight anthills that they had been before. Sam stared at the way they bulged against her small bra cups.

Her belly had continued to gradually rise like dough, uncomfortably bloated and oddly firm. It was big enough that it was getting noticeable, gently pressing her T-shirts out, rather than remaining hidden beneath the loose fabric.

Her hips were wider, no longer thin and boyish. Even her backside had plumped slightly, tightening the backs of her pants.

She knew that she had been stress-eating. The salad-diet was not working out well. For some reason when Sam attempted to restrict food, she was assaulted with continual hunger pains she had never suffered before. She tried embellishing her salads with boiled eggs and olives, later adding shredded cheese, dressing, croutons, chopped up bacon, and sometimes even bacon grease to cover up the bland flavor of the lettuce leaves. The incremental changes got worse and worse, as her appetite refused to adapt to the limited portions. She added fried chicken strips, cheddar, rice, black beans, ground sausage, and even mayo, until she found that she was eating a mound of gelatinous slop better suited for a farm animal than a human. If she was being generous with herself, she referred to it as a “taco bowl.”

Sam surveyed herself in her bedroom mirror one day. She stared at the way her belly was no longer pushing gently against her shirt, but instead stretching the material tightly against it, round and full as the mound had become. B-cups breasts sat perkily on her chest, fat and plump, and free of a bra, because even the latest ones just felt so tight lately.

Sam turned to her side, her heart sinking as she slid her hand up her belly’s underside—her gut had an underside! She was starting to look as thought she was six months pregnant, most of her weight concentrated in her lurching abdomen.

There’s no way this is normal, she realized. With a trembling hand, she lifted her cellphone, and speed-dialed home. “M-Mom? Oh hey, yeah, my grades are good. Everything’s going g-great.” She waited a moment as her mother responded, heart pounding and sweat forming on her brow. “Yeah, I know, I just thought I’d stop by to—to visit—nothing’s wrong!” she insisted hastily. “I just feel like something weird is going on at campus and um…I’d really like to see you guys.”

Sam’s face fell as her mother protested. It was the beginning of the week, her mother said. It would be irresponsible to skip classes, the woman groused.

Sam and her mother finally reached a compromise—Sam could come by on the weekend, and return to campus on Sunday evening. With a sigh, Sam hung up the phone and wearily lowered it to her bureau.

-

By the time the weekend hit, unfortunately for Sam, she couldn’t find a clean outfit that wasn’t slightly embarrassing in its poor fit for her body.

Her belly was bulging slightly from under her T-shirts, revealing a strip of bloated skin beneath the strained hems. In anything with sleeves, she seemed to sweat profusely creating horrible patches of moisture at her underarms. And her ass seemed to have had a growth spurt, because it was bulging out prominently behind her, while dragging down the waistband of all her sweatpants, an inch of her crack popping out every time she made a move.

Sam managed to squeeze herself into a tank top and pair of gym shorts, after which she surveyed her appearance in the full-length mirror.

Though the tank top fully covered her stomach, the material was stretchy as spandex, and was practically pasted against the bulging mound in a way that only seemed to make it all the more prominent. The neckline was low enough that the cleavage of her bloated C-cups were bulging heavily against it. The hem of the shorts willingly stayed around her hips, only because the bottom pulled tight against her round ass, riding up so her backside was sticking out, the tight material looking like hotpants in their tightness.

Sam reached back and laid her hands on her ass, cringing at the warm softness of her swollen flesh. She turned her back to her mirror and craned her neck to see that her posterior had not only gotten more prominent, but wider as well. It was beginning to look ridiculous.

Lightly shaking her head, Sam turned away from the mirror. She fidgeted awkwardly in her clothes as she exited the dorm. She found herself consistently tugging her tank top down, or plucking at the back of her shorts, which seemed firmly intent on settling itself into her crack. Her breasts wiggled slightly, and she noticed that her nipples were hard and erect, not settling down no matter how long she waited.

Sam headed for the main road, where she knew she could catch a bus to her parents’ house, and was surprised when the road she encountered revealed itself to lead to one of the Science buildings on the campus’ periphery. She ventured around the building, a little breathless by then, but was only confronted with yet more of the campus.

She asked several people for directions, trying her best not to stare at the wobbling breasts, heaving bellies, and bulging packages everyone seemed to adorn.

“Oh, you make a left around the Nursing building,” one student said informatively.

“You’re on the wrong side. Main street is on the east of campus.”

“You loop around North Administration, and on the left of the Language building, you’ll see a little alley.”

But Sam’s efforts to heed the conflicting advisements left her flushed and sweaty. The directions usually just led her deeper into the campus, sometimes even taking her back to her dorm building. She struggled to comprehend the campus map, but it was positively nonsensical. By then, it was getting dark out, and her efforts to get to her parents’ house seemed all but hopeless. Sam found her hand clutching at her lower back, which had developed some tension.

As she desperately looked around for a place to sit down, she spotted one of the campus security vehicles, and dragged herself over to the sidewalk, flagging for him to stop.

As the driver pulled over and rolled down his window, Sam couldn’t help arching her tense back, planting both hands on her lurching stomach. It felt so tight right then, practically throbbing, the pressure incrementally rising and heating her whole body.

“What’s going on, miss?” said the guard.

Sam recollected her composure and blinked down at him through her sweaty face. “I’m trying to get to main street,” she said breathlessly.

The guard frowned. “It’s getting late, miss. Almost curfew.”

“Curfew?” said Sam. She hadn’t realized the campus had a curfew, then again, with all her feelings of bloatedness and lethargy lately, she couldn’t say she had ever had any inclination to stay out very late. Sam gave a glance at the sky. The sun hadn’t even fully set. Curfew must have been really early, which was bizarre for a college. She was eighteen, after all. “I really need to get to main street. I’m going to see my parents. It’s sort of an emergency.”

The guard seemed unimpressed. “You really shouldn’t be out here in your condition.”

“Condition?” said Sam in confusion.

She heard the car door unlock. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thank you,” she said in relief, as she opened the door, and lowered herself to the seat—with more care, than she was used to, she realized. She cursed the awkwardness of her bloated physique.

The guard just gave a nod as he pulled off from the curb.

Sam sighed and leaned back in exhaustion as the car drove past a couple of the campus buildings to finally stop…outside of her dorm building.

Crap, she thought.

“Have a goodnight, miss,” said the guard curtly.

Face set in a grimace, Sam climbed out of the car. “Thanks,” she spat irritably. He gave a salute and drove off. Absently rubbing her hands on her aching hips, Sam glared up at her dorm building and made her way towards the door.

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