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To Science, Part 10

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Summary: After Connor's comatose body is donated to science, he wakes up to find himself adorning large, expanding breasts. Contains: Male: breast expansion, lactation, possible breast impregnation later on.

Previous Chapter

-

He couldn’t believe how big he had gotten in only three weeks.

Her breasts were now perched in his lap. They were massive and round, yet fatty, each with a thick layer of fat, and they quivered almost continuously now.

They were so obstructive, Pete had to spoon-feed him. They were so heavy, Connor could hardly get up, not without Pete’s aid, both of them clutching Connor’s twin mounds as they staggered together into the living room, then back to the bed at the end of the day.

Connor was in bed at present, flushed, and breathing through the increasingly powerful quivers. Each of his breasts resembled a beach ball in size, his skin frequently pressing outwards, subtly shifting in shape, as each baby squirmed, as though struggling inside him.

It was uncomfortable, and it had been going on for days now. He could hardly stand to be stuck in bed, immobile, so massive, and yet so heated by the uncomfortable movements, his nipples dark, sore, and throbbing. Connor would release a groan every time a baby would press at one from the inside—which was becoming quite frequent.

Connor hated being home alone. Though he didn’t admit it, he was afraid of his size and how this whole thing would—end. Pete was out that afternoon, grocery shopping. But who really knew? He had always been a shady, manipulative asshole. He could have jumped ship for all Connor knew.

“Ohhh…” Connor gasped out.

That had been a strong one. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that would satisfy his offspring, though he was pretty much stuck there, propped up on pillows, breasts perched on his numb thighs.

His breasts had overtaken his torso. They were round balls of quivering fat. He found himself fidgeting with the increasingly persistent movements inside him. His nipples were positively burning, but he resisted the urge to palm at them.

His nipples were the sizes of baseballs by then. Over the past week, they had gotten larger, harder, and more distended. He was scared of what that meant for him. But then, he found it best not to think about it.

“Ohhhh…” Connor groaned, as his left nipple twitched with a painful spasm. He tensed up, grimacing as it happened to the right one. Both masses tightened, and it…it reminded him of what had happened with the chicks. His right nipple gave another violent twitch, and Connor clutched at it tightly, despite the soreness that caused a whimper to escape his throat. He could see a strange, pale slime beginning to push out of his right nipple. “Oh god…oh god…” He was going into labor.

“Nggghhhhh!” He arched impulsively as both breasts tightened and clenched with contractions. He could feel the heaviness of each baby, feel their masses being shoved towards his swollen nipples at an alarmingly rapid rate.

Panting heavily, Connor began to struggle, as though to escape this somehow. “Oh god…oh no…ahh…goooooodd!” He cried out as his left nipple swelled to the size of an apple, the main pore beginning to open up, as though something was pushing at in from within.

The right nipple was quick to follow. Tears were pouring down Connor’s cheeks by then. He leaned on his hands and heaved himself up straight by some strange compulsion, spine taut, back arching, nipples swinging up into the air. They released twin spurts of a clear fluid. Connor struggled to catch his breath.

“Hahhh…hahhh…hooo…” he breathed, feeling the sensation of masses pushing at his nipples from the inside. The left one was really beginning to open up, and the pain was so bad, his vision was blurring at the edges. Where was Pete? “Nggghhhh…” This was too much. As if on cue, he heard the front door of the cabin open. “Here!” he managed to yelp out, then dissolved into more sobbing.

When Pete trudged into the room, he gazed at Connor with a look of shock. Connor could swear that it was a full thirty seconds before Pete lightly shook himself, and hurried over to his bedside. “How are you doing?”

“Nghhaahhh…” Connor could not produce words. The left-side baby was beginning—beginning to crown! His face was hot and sweaty, nipple burning, body twisting with every contraction that pushed the infant harder against the stretching pore. He released a strangled cry as he felt the right baby begin to crown as well. Suddenly Pete was applying numbing cream to his stretching nipples. It hardly helped. Pete murmured something about ice and hurried out of the room, before returning shortly with two ice packs.

The crowning baby was a truly grotesque sight. It was obscenely painful, and Connor thought he would throw up. He tried to twist away, but Pete forcefully held him in place, upright.

His nipples were the size of grapefruits by then, stretching to accommodate his children’s heads. The left tensed, and Connor screamed as a head abruptly popped through with a gush of slimy fluid. Pete simply made calming noises, and supported the infant, guiding the rest of the body out. Connor’s throat croaked as the shoulders were guided through, and then the room was filled with the hoarse wails of a newborn.

The second baby was still stretching him. He just wanted this to end, for the pain to cease. Pete hushed him quietly as Connor sobbed shamelessly. Clearly Pete didn’t have much sympathy. His eyes continued to gleam with excitement.

The first infant was lowered to a cot against set up by the bed, before Pete returned to attending to Connor’s right breast, applying ice and numbing cream, rubbing the plump flesh down with each painful contraction.

“Pete…this…nnghhh…it’s t-too much,” Connor cried, his body aching so badly he was almost too scared to look down at himself.

“You’re doing fine,” Pete consoled. “This baby’s moving along. Almost fully crowned. Just another good push or two…”

Pete clearly didn’t know how ridiculous he sounded—how could Connor possibly push? He fleetingly wondered if Pete was high right at that moment, but was distracted by an especially forceful contraction. “Aggghhh!” he screamed, arching as the second baby breached him, the pain shooting through every inch of the massive expanse of his breast. He sunk down against the pillows, dissolving to whimpers, as Pete navigated the baby out of his body. There were shrill baby-cries to accompany the first.

“Connor, you’re amazing.”

Connor was out of it. He could hardly lift his eyes to see what he had produced.

“Nrrgghhh…gzzerrr…” he mumbled, feebly reached out, before everything went black.

-

When Connor awoke, his body was sore, but not in the acute pain that it had been in before he’d passed out.

He blearily blinked around for a few moments. The room was dark and silent, with no sign of Pete or the…or the babies.

Connor slowly looked down at himself.

His breasts had shrunken a good deal, and it was almost strange to him, after touting around two babies inside of him for the past nine weeks.

Each mound was still quite large by any standards—each bigger than a basketball, pressed together, and bobbing on his chest. But he was no longer immobilized by them. Connor tentatively shifted his legs off the bed.

His nipples were dark, hard, and now the size of large grapes. He shuddered as they pressed against the cool air. He stood and found a thin tanktop which he stretched over himself. It left his abdomen fully exposed, and the pink splotches of his swollen nipples visible as they poked out against the material.

His breasts rocking, Connor made his way to the living room, arching his tender back as he did. He immediately saw Pete sprawled on the couch in his usual spot, furiously playing video games. But only now there were two rocking bassinettes on the floor in front of him. Pete was absently rocking one with his bare foot as he continued to focus on the game.

“Now what?” said Connor, blankly staring at him.

Pete roughly jerked, as though he had been caught at something. He turned to Connor, and shrugged. “Parenting, I guess.” He returned his attention to the game.

Connor stood there numbly for a moment, before finally dragging himself to the couch. He released a sigh and slumped down beside Pete. “Pass the other controller.”


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