Farrow, Part 19

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Summary: Gina is impregnated with piglets. Contains: Female: Belly expansion, multiple breasts (3 pairs), breast expansion, and more. Spin-off of Piglets.

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Warren set a large container of Gainer balls on the desk. There had to be twenty-four in there.

“That’s a full day’s dose,” said Gina, as she stared uneasily down at the balls. And that wasn’t even including the ones she had already taken throughout the morning. She uneasily rubbed the side of her stomach. She looked almost as though she was due with twins by then.

“Indeed,” said Warren.

Archburger was chewing his bottom lip, looking keen.

There were so many calories and no time to burn them. What more had Gina expected? She eased herself into her seat, resigned to the obligation. Just get through today, she reminded herself as her belly squished down against her lap.

She got started, ignoring the lecherous stares as she plucked the first dough ball into her mouth, followed by a second and third in quick succession. She chewed languorously before forcing it all down her throat.

One would think that this was a recipe for choking, but the dough balls were slippery—probably an intentional design. They slithered easily down her throat, even in moments when it seemed that it was crammed there with no hope of passage. It always just moved along, as though contracting in her body, sinking and expanding to facilitate swallowing.

Though the balls were compacted enough to fit into her mouth, they hit her stomach heavily, squeezing against her insides, as though she was swallowing something three times the size.

She tried her best to contain her groans—Warren didn’t deserve the pleasure—as she stuffed ball after ball into her mouth and gulped them down her throat, her stomach feeling unbearably tight as she gulped down a fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth dough ball. Before the eighteenth, she released a small belch, and covered her mouth, hoping she would not purge.

But the feeling of sickness wasn’t there. She felt incredibly full, but the compacted dough seemed to sit inside her as though one solid mass, with no hint of coming back up.

“Nnggghhh…” she quietly moaned, before muffling herself with the eighteenth, and subsequently, the nineteenth dough ball. She was almost finished. Just five more left. She fidgeted somewhat in her seat, her belly feeling heavier than ever before.

“Problem, Mrs. Smith?” said Fletcher anxiously from where he stood with the others across her desk.

Gina shot him a glare, but refrained from snarling back. After all, she had no idea how long she had paused. She was vaguely aware that she was flushed and sweating, her belly heaving up and down with her heavy panting.

With a groan, she took in the twentieth ball, her skin practically tingling by then. She was so heavy and lethargic. She couldn’t have gotten up had she tried. It was just so much. She feebly rubbed her gut as she forced down the twenty-first ball, pausing to breathe, then stuffing down the twenty-second.

She felt like a slovenly pig. Better year, a whale. She pressed dough into her mouth and chewed in an endless cycle, cheeks puffed out as she forced in more and more. Her eyes teared as she gulped down the twenty-fourth ball. “Ohhhhh…” she grunted in a muffled whimper, arching in hopes of relieving the twinging in her back and the discomfort of her over-stuffed mound pressing heavily on her thighs.

She was vaguely aware that her blouse, which had been loose before, now seemed to fit her properly, if a big snugly, where it was wrapped against her sweat-sleeked skin. Her breasts wobbled slightly as they heaved up and down, and the three strapless maternity bras she was wearing felt too tight against them. She shrugged off the hapless blazer, and she could tell that the thin blouse was growing transparent where it had become too saturated with her sweat. “There,” she gasped out.

Fletcher was evidently fascinated, and Archburger, very evidently aroused. Only Warren looked distinctly unimpressed.

And still, Gina could feel her body swelling and growing, her litter of creatures growing plumper as her body stretched and tightened to accommodate their growing pressure within her.

She was so hot. She needed air, but the thought of getting up was daunting. She felt like she could collapse against her desk. Resisting that urge, she forced a smile across her sweaty face and silently willed her guests to leave.

She had not wanted to give the men the pleasure of seeing her overtaxed body, and how overwhelmed she was, both physically and mentally, but her reservations were moot now. She could see how each of her breasts was slightly overflowing her bra cups now, small splotches of moisture on the face of each bra cup indicative of the fact that she was not just sweating, but leaking as well. Though she had pumped her breasts more than adequately before work, she could feel each of the six mounds gradually warming, more heated than the rest of her. She could actually feel them slowly filling up. She stifled another moan. Her belly gurgled. She pressed her hands firmly against the edge of her desk, fidgeting, arching, her body so tight and uncomfortable, she didn’t know whether standing would improve things or just make them worse.

“I-I have to…” she released a hoarsely strained grunt as she struggled to her feet, her belly seeming to push out more. It looked even bigger now, and felt as though it would burst right open. Barely managing to hobble her way to the wall, she leaned back against the cool plaster, allowing her mound to gurgle and tighten as she rubbed her palms against it, cradling its underside, panting, and adjusting her hips to cradle the weight of it. She looked as though she was due with triplets. She huffed out, then belched, as it gurgled more. It quavered discreetly.

There were some excited murmurs amongst the investors. It seemed they were satisfied, at least. She had to continually shift her weight in her efforts to accommodate the advancing discomfort.

The door opened almost meekly, and Rhonda slipped into the room—Gina honestly hadn’t noticed her secretary had left. Warren moved aside to motion Rhonda forward, and what the woman was holding in her arms caused Gina to nearly flinch away, aghast.

It was another container of the Gainer balls.

“It’s as they say—go hard or go home,” said Warren, almost questioningly, as he rolled the proverb around on his tongue. He wore a wry smile as Gina paled. Rhonda gently set the container on the desk, not meeting Gina’s eyes but throwing furtive glances at her belly.

Gina yelped as her abdomen jerked in a furious leap of growth that nearly caused her knees to buckle. Suddenly Jennings and Archburger were on either side of her, holding her shoulders as they guided her back to the desk, where she was settled her down into her increasingly-snug chair.

“You c-can’t be serious,” Gina managed, as she stared down at the container in unease. It was another twenty-four.

“I am quite serious,” Warren responded. “The others and I have agreed that if there was a demonstration, we would prefer a sufficient one.”

“This isn’t sufficient?” Gina cried out, motioning to herself.

“Keep eating,” said Warren dourly.

Gina blinked rapidly, refusing to cry. Clenching her jaw, she fixed her attention on the dough balls, and lifted one to her lips.

She felt weak and exhausted, between the waves of lethargy, and the tightness almost bordering on pain. Her clothing seemed to be strangling her by then, but she refused to unravel herself and reveal what this was doing to her.

Three servings into the second container of dough balls, Gina grimaced and clutched the side of her mound. A vague bulge had risen on the surface, undoubtedly one of the—creatures—as though it might break right free of her over-taxed womb. It slowly sunk back into place, innumerable masses shifting lazily as they swelled, fattened, and packed themselves more tightly inside of her, each looking for more space to grow.

Her belly button was the size of a golf ball and pulsing. It shifted slightly, as though a creature was squished up right behind it. Panting heavily, Gina crammed a fifth Gainer ball into her mouth.

She just had to get through this, and it would be over. “Nrrghhh…” she grunted, as her belly pushed out, diamonds of skin growing between the buttons or her tautly-stretched blouse. Her nipples ached and tingled, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they started squirting. There was a stinging pain shooting down her tailbone, but it seemed inconsequential what with everything else.

“A-as you can see,” Gina forced out, if just to stall, “there is no question as to the matter of my p-pregnancy.” Her belly bloated out a full inch, a button popping off her blouse. She screwed up her face, heaving her ass, just slightly, out of her seat, trying to alleviate the increasing discomfort of her belly squishing into her lap. “Hoo…hooo...” she panted, dripping sweat by then, before she settled back down, thighs spread, hips twitching. She whimpered. So heavy…

“It’s quite innovative,” said Fletcher in an effort to seem composed. Gina hummed feebly, cramming two more dough balls into her mouth.

How such an experiment would be of any benefit to the future, Gina didn’t know and didn’t inquire. In fact, the scientific connotations seemed dubious at best. She was just living out some sick perversion.

She felt as though she had a small person inside of her, pushing at all sides in their effort to get out. Worse, her groin was tingling, panties soaked, pressure hitting her loins in unpleasant waves of arousal. She grimaced, worried that piglets might just start popping out.

She worked her way though the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth dough balls, quite close to crying by then. She knew that the faster she ate, the more compounded she would feel the effects in the end, and yet she would be all the more likely to finish. Gina continued to shove the dough balls into her mouth as quickly as she could.

A stray tear slipped down her cheek as she gulped down the twentieth, twenty-first, and twenty-second. She didn’t know how she got the last two down, but she soon found herself slumped back in her chair, gasping for breath.

The investors stared at her with expressions ranging from pleasure to alarm. Jennings awkwardly cleared his throat and made to leave the small office, but Warren held up his arm.

“Wait.”

Gina squeezed her eyes shut, resenting Warren more than she had ever resented anything. She grunted as a quaver ran through her belly. “Of—course,” she panted, with a sneer. “Wouldn’t—want to—miss the—b-best—part—ohhhhhh!” she cried, as her belly lunged outward, popping free of the remains of her blouse, a large flushed globe plopping against her overfull lap, and still steadily swelling.

Her breasts plumpened in milder waves, nipples bulging, the chest of her blouse straining as diamonds opened, and button by button gently broke off.

The bras could barely contain her any more, her breasts all but popping out of them. Her nipples eased out as her body continued to grow in heated throbs. She tried to contain it, but it was no use. Abruptly her six nipples began to spray milk, the first wave splashing against Warren’s chest, before it tapered, and took to spraying on her mahogany desk.

“As you might imagine, the swelling will progressively slow down in the hours to follow,” said Warren, “yet it should continue for at least a full day of steady growth.”

There were murmurs of interest. Archburger hurriedly excused himself to the bathroom.

“We appreciate the demonstration, Mrs. Smith,” said Warren.

Gina bit back several obscenities and collapsed against her desk.