Baby Elephant - Male Version - 11-12 Weeks

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Summary: An intern is impregnated with a baby elephant.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

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11 Weeks

Reed took to bringing him beverages throughout the day. He never knew what it would be. There were thick, chocolatey, buttery milkshakes topped with rich whipped cream. Other times she brought him protein drinks, or sweet juices. Connor couldn’t help guzzling it all down as it was provided. The sheer sight of food caused him to break out into a sweat lately. Reed ensured that he was pumped with calories around the clock.

In the past week, Connor had experienced ¾ inches of growth. That was a ¼ inch increase from what had become his norm. Though it seemed a negligible amount, Connor couldn’t help being concerned. He had learned early on that every fraction of an inch counted, especially considering how all the growth seemed to cumulate with the passage of time.

He wondered if it had something to do with all the night-time eating. For the past six nights, Connor had somehow ended up staying up late with Reed, discussing ongoing projects over take-out. The latest had been Chinese—a vast variety, more containers of it than he could even count. While Reed modestly snacked on a pint of chicken and broccoli, Connor had lost track of how many grease-dripping containers he had worked his way through.

Perched in his living quarters one morning, his legs spread wide yet still squashed beneath his massive belly, Connor examined the measly of attire one of the other interns had brought for him. It was as though they hadn’t even tried.

He struggled into a DDD-cup bra, but it proved exceedingly tight, his breasts bulging against it from all corners. He struggled to get it off, but it quickly tore and burst open in the front, leaving him gasping and relieved. Connor massaged his sore breasts, but this only proved to stimulate them. His shoulders twisting, he released a grunt as the mounds tightened and both nipples distended before squirting twin streams of milk. Panting, Connor waited for the flow to mitigate. He dabbed at his chest with a towel.

The next impractical piece of clothing was a pair of shorts. Connor glared at it, and quietly cursed under his breath. After several attempts, he somehow managed to navigate his feet through the openings despite not being able to see much of his legs, then he fidgeted and fumbled to ease the shorts up his plump ass. At one point, he had to shift his weight forward, against his belly, and nearly toppled over. Somehow he maintained his balance, though he wasn’t too concerned about the fetus. As he understood, it was more durable than he was.

The shorts went down past his knees, but couldn’t seem to entirely cover his round backside. It felt like his crack was close to bulging out over it.

Huffing in irritation, Connor proceeded to lift the shirt that looked measly compared to his mass. Mumbling a few more obscenities, he tugged it over his head, and got it pulled down as far as covering his breasts. It served as little more than a crop top.

Connor breathed heavily when he was finished. At least he had been granted some vague amount of modesty. He absently rubbed his hands over what he could reach of his belly, his mind drifting to worries he usually fought hard to suppress. What would happen if the thing started moving? What would he do if his belly got too big for him to move?

There was a knock on the door. “Ready, Connor?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he responded. He resented that he was still being forced to participate in work. Though, admittedly, it was the only thing that kept him sane.

Two interns walked in and flanked him, both leaning down to wrap one of their arms around his back, while placing their opposite hands beneath his belly.

“On three,” said Chris. “Ready?” They gently rocked his with each count. “One, two—”

And suddenly he was back on his feet.

12 Weeks

Connor hated staff meetings, but he played his part.

“I think in order to stabilize the sample, we need to reintroduce the radioactive…” Connor trailed off as he noticed the others were staring at him. “What is it?” he said.

“It’s just that you’re…dripping on the file,” said James.

Connor looked down to notice his shirt was soaked through, his round breasts drooping just slightly where they were perched atop his belly. Milk seeped and splattered onto the folder he was clutching in his hands.

Connor impatiently slapped the file onto the table. “Well what do you expect me to do, James?” he snapped. He impatiently grabbed a wad of tissues out of a box sitting on the meeting table and unthinkingly dabbed at his breasts, before pausing, his face reddening. He took a few deep breaths. “On second thought, I think I’m going to have to excuse myself.” He pushed back his chair. “Can I have some hel-ahhhh…” he groaned, lifting his hands, but stopping himself short of making contact with his breasts.

His shoulders tensing, Connor grunted in discomfort as his breasts tightened, the milk going from a drip to a pour. His areola puffed up like small rounded cupolas as his nipples distended, before the milk flow turned to a spray, breasts continuing to swell round, and bulging against the neckline of his stretched top. Connor fell into panting. All this lactation was getting out of control. His face flushed, he looked around at the scientists, who had dropped all they had been working on to closely observe him, some taking notes.

“A little h-help here,” Connor repeated impatiently.

Reed stood and hurried over. It took some effort, but she helped him to stand. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the meeting room. With his free hand, Connor held the side of his belly.

“I’m fine now,” he said to Reed once they had left the room.

“You’re getting milk all over the floor. I don’t want you to slip,” Reed responded as they walked in the direction of the bathroom.

His belly was massive, and heavy. He could only stand for increasingly short periods of time. The mass had long surpassed a beach ball, and was slowly approaching a boulder in size. His lactating breasts were the least of Connor’s worries. He had experienced another ¾ inches of belly growth over the past week.

Reed took him all the way into the restroom, and soon Connor was sitting on a toilet, trying to gather his bearings. He didn’t even have to use the toilet. He just sat there, breathing, shorts and all.

Connor found that he lost his breath quite easily now, and this was a prime example. Finally giving in to his temptations, he pulled up his shirt and grabbed his breasts, allowing his milk to splash into his palms. His body shuddering, he massaged the mounds, not caring as the pressure increased, and they tightened in his hands. He didn’t even care that Reed was standing by, watching the whole thing.

“Ohhh…mmmmmph…” Connor moaned, as the mounds rose like heating dough. Eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks grew redder, his nipples aching and spraying against Reed’s lab coat. “Nnnghhhh…yesss…ahhhhhh,” he groaned, throwing his head back. His belly rocked and breasts bounced with his heavy breathing.

When it was over, and Connor had regained control over himself, he dropped his arms and let his head fall to one side as he tried to catch his breath. He glanced up at Reed to see that she was still silently observing him.

He rolled his eyes. “Gotta take what you can get.”

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