Gas

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

$20 Patreon Directory

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Sandra had been feeling bloated all day. Only when her blouse started feeling uncomfortably tight, did she head into the ladies room to assess what was wrong.

Sandra certainly looked bloated, her stomach rounded and firm. It must have been a side-effect of the new herbal medication she had been trying. It had warned of slight gassiness, but nothing like this. She was starting to look as though she was pregnant.

Sandra sucked in a deep breath and prepared for a belch, when a toilet flushed in one of the stalls. Sandra froze as one of her interns came out.

“M-Misses Weathers,” stammered out the mousy girl whose name Sandra couldn’t remember.

Sandra nodded politely as the intern washed her hands. In the meantime, Sandra stood in the mirror and pretended to fix her makeup until the intern exited. But as the girl left, another employee walked in. This was pointless. Sandra exited as well.

Sandra went to her office, intending to relieve her growing discomfort, and was surprised to see two of her top clients standing before her desk.

“Sorry for just showing up,” said Mr. Rivers, shaking Sandra’s hand. “Your secretary let us in. You see, my wife and I were having some concerns about our contract.”

“Of course,” said Sandra, settling down behind her desk. “Please take a seat.”

And so things proceeded, Sandra’s gas worsening, bubbles and pains littering her tight belly. She felt her skirt cutting into her flesh, and impatiently jammed the waistband down beneath the mound. She smiled and reassured her customers repetitively, before expertly concluding the unplanned meeting.

Sandra squirmed in her seat, and as she began to stand, she was horrified to see that the bottom five buttons of her blouse had torn apart without her noticing. She reddened and hastily pulled on a sweater. Though it was skin-tight, it offered the coverage she needed. As Sandra ushered her clients out of the office, they took to staring at her belly. It was only once they had gone that she looked down at herself in shock. She looked as though she was at term with child!

“The investor meeting is set to start in 30 seconds,” her secretary piped in, poking her head through the doorway.

Sandra swore under her breath. She couldn’t be late for this. She stiffly grabbed her notes up from her desk and made her way to the meeting room, feeling her problem worsening with every step. She just needed release.

Sandra made her way carefully through the door, feeling as though she might burst. Her face reddened as her belly pushed out and shuddered, struggling to accommodate the growing pressure.

The investors gawked at her as she slowly, carefully, sat down. Sandra rushed through the meeting, struggling not to belch, or worse. She had to pause and cover her mouth several times, people staring at her in wonderment.

She reached the final presentation, which she couldn’t be seated for. Sandra began to stand, slowly, gently, but it was too much. She belched.

It was neither a cute nor dainty burp, but a loud and pervasive one, which burst though her hands that covered her mouth. Her belly shuddered and gurgled, but felt just as tight as before. “E-excuse me,” Sandra managed, her face beet red. She turned to leave and salvage what was left of her dignity, when her body decided to release a long fart.

There were gasps and murmurs of astonishment. Sandra quickly turned back around. “Oh my goodness.” She held her round belly. “I am so so very sorr—” Another belch erupted from her mouth. Her spectators looked appalled as one belch after another tore through Sandra’s throat. It took three minutes before she regained herself enough to hurry out the door.