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Kompera
Kompera

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Gas (4 Parts)

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

Prompt Directory

1.

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.

2.

Over the next few days, Sandra tried to release the gas, but she could never seem to relieve it completely, and in only a few hours, she would become uncomfortably bloated again to the point of looking nine months pregnant.

Sandra saw a specialist, who declared Sandra’s condition unprecedented, and called in a colleague. Soon Sandra found herself surrounded by doctors, who were staring at her as though she was an alien.

In the following days, she was referred to specialist after specialist, and had to put up with awkward waits in crowded waiting rooms, and clerical staff members continuously trying to direct her to maternity wards.

Finally, Sandra had no choice but to give up. She had missed enough of work, and now she was at serious risk of losing her job.

She returned to the office, and did her best to ignore the stares of her colleagues. She made a strategic schedule of breaks, in which she would slip off, and relieve the growing pressure. And though Sandra did not shrink much further than her present, at-term-looking state, she did not grow any larger, which was a minor victory. She even took to wearing maternity clothes to spare herself the difficulties of finding tops in extraordinary sizes at regular stores.

She looked perpetually pregnant. Her belly was big and low. She noticed her breasts had gotten slightly plumper, as had her hips. With a visit to her primary physician, Sandra learned that her body seemed to think she was with child, and was preparing itself accordingly. Her breasts were engorged, and her pelvis was spreading. The whole thing unnerved her, but as there was nothing she could do about it, she did her best to ignore it. 

Her dating life was ruined, or so she had thought. It had taken a full month to get a date, and she was sure Richard probably thought her to be pregnant.

They met at a fancy Italian place. Sandra eased herself down carefully. She was surprised by how naturally the conversation flowed, and how much she was enjoying herself, despite her traitorous body. She had previously condemned herself to a life of loneliness. Sandra’s belly prodded the edge of the table, and she blinked.

Oh! she thought belatedly. She was late to relieve herself. “Excuse me,” she said, standing with care. Grimacing at the pressure in her gut, Sandra headed to the bathroom, and was dismayed to see there were already several people waiting in line to use it.

Sandra waited and waited. Back at the table, she could see Richard impatiently tapping his fingers. After fifteen minutes, Richard paid the check and started to leave. There was only one more person in the line ahead of her, but Sandra had no choice but to leave and intercept Richard at the exit door.

“Sorry,” she said, breathless and quite tight.

The frustrated look disappeared from Richard face. “I almost thought you snuck out.” He walked Sandra to her car.

“Oh, I was thinking about it,” Sandra teased, as she hoped he didn’t take notice of how much bigger she was. Her belly was large and heaving and uncomfortably pressurized. It lightly bumped against Richard’s torso as they turned to face each other. She imagined she looked as though she was overdue with twins by then. She could feel her swollen breasts heavily bulging against the cups of her bra.

The tension was only growing. Sandra held her lower belly, her legs fidgeting beneath her. She absently tugged at the bottom of her maternity blouse as her body continued to steadily outgrow it. She was so full by then. She needed relief. She just needed to get into her car.

“Regretfully, I’m going to have to ask you for a second date,” Richard teased back.

Sandra gave him a winning smile. Her belly stood between them like a barrier.

Richard laid his hands on her waist, pressing slightly into her girth, and causing her to squeak. He took this as a good thing. As he leaned down to kiss her, Sandra opened her mouth, and a belch came out.

Richard stared at her in shock. Sandra was horrified.

“Of my god, I am so—” She belched again, cutting herself off. Her belly was wracked with vicious tremors. “Oh god,” Sandra choked out, before releasing belch after belch. She opened her car door before she could do anything worse, squeezed herself behind the steering wheel, belched again, and drove off.

2.5

In the following days, Sandra was referred to specialist after specialist, and had to put up with awkward waits in crowded waiting rooms, and clerical staff members continuously trying to direct her to maternity wards.

Finally, Sandra had no choice but to give up. No doctor could give her an explanation for her condition. She had missed enough of work, and now she was at serious risk of losing her job.

She returned to the office, and did her best to ignore the stares of her colleagues. She made a strategic schedule of breaks, in which she would slip off, and relieve the growing pressure of the gas in her belly. And though Sandra did not shrink much farther than her present, at-term-looking state, she did not grow any larger, which was a minor victory. She even took to wearing maternity clothes to spare of herself the difficulties of finding tops in extraordinary sizes at regular stores.

She looked perpetually pregnant. Her belly was big and low. She noticed her breasts had gotten slightly plumper, as had her hips. With a visit to her primary physician, Sandra learned that her body seemed to think she was with child, and was preparing itself accordingly. Her breasts were engorged, and her pelvis was spreading. Strangely, her stomach was now beginning to fill with fluid. The whole thing unnerved Sandra, but as there was nothing she could do about it, she did her best to ignore it, at least until she heard back from a specialist.

She was getting progressively heavier. Her dating life was ruined, or so she had thought. It had taken a full month to get a date, and she was sure Richard probably thought her to be pregnant.

They met at a fancy Italian place. Sandra eased herself down carefully. She was surprised by how naturally the conversation flowed, and how much she was enjoying herself, despite her traitorous body. She had previously condemned herself to a life of loneliness. Sandra’s belly prodded the edge of the table, and she blinked.

Oh! she thought belatedly. She was late to relieve herself. “Excuse me,” she said, standing with care. Grimacing at the surprising heaviness of her gut, Sandra headed to the bathroom.

Once inside, Sandra belched as much as she could, her belly tremoring with each one that tore through her. Sandra was surprised when the belches ceased, quite abruptly. She tried to belch again, even to fart, but it was as though her body had no more gas.

Sandra looked down at herself. Her belly was still large and round, but heavier, and bobbing slightly. She steadied it with her hand, feeling unnerved. Fluid, she mused.

Sandra made her way back to the table, finding herself moving in a slight waddle by then.

Richard abruptly stood. “I took care of the check.”

Sandra forced a smile. She was unnerved by the increasing sensation of pressure, and the sudden inability to relieve it. She allowed Richard to walk her to her car.

She hoped he didn’t take notice of how much bigger she was. Her belly was large and heaving and uncomfortably pressurized. It lightly bumped against Richard’s torso as they turned to face each other. She imagined she looked as though she was overdue with twins by then. She could feel her swollen breasts heavily bulging against the cups of her bra.

The tension was only growing. Sandra held her lower belly, her legs fidgeting beneath her. She absently tugged at the bottom of her maternity blouse as her body continued to steadily outgrow it. She was so tight by then. What if she needed to go to the hospital.

“I’d like a second date,” Richard informed her.

Sandra couldn’t help but smile. Her belly stood between them like a barrier.

Richard laid his hands on her waist, pressing slightly into her girth, causing her to squeak. He took this as a good thing, and lightly kissed her. “Come back to my place?” he murmured.

It didn’t seem like the best of ideas. Yet she didn’t want to reject him. Sandra opened her mouth to provide an inevitably flimsy excuse, but instead heard herself say, “Sure.”

3.

Sandra found herself stuck in a continuous cycle of belching and farting. She set her phone alarm to wake her up every hour so that she could empty herself of as much gas as she could. She knew that it wasn’t practical. Having to constantly disrupt her sleep left her fatigued. By the morning, she still somehow had grown bigger, and she dragged herself through her pre-work routine, completely exhausted. She looked as though she was overdue with triplets.

Sandra could barely squeeze herself behind the steering wheel of her car, her round belly stretching out the largest maternity dress she owned. She looked ready to pop.

The plump DDs on her chest bobbed slightly as she awkwardly maneuvered herself around the office in her overly-tight dress. Her colleagues were gawking at her, as though trying to make sense of her growth. Worse, Sandra could still feel the gas steadily building, stretching her more. She needed release, and she needed it fast. She waddled into her office and quickly closed the door.

“Rrrrrrr…” A fart tore through her backside, her belly trembling as she tried to release the build-up. “Urrrp,” Sandra belched as she held her mound, feeling the pressure taper just the tiniest amount.

She eased herself down carefully on her desk chair with her overfull belly, allowing another large belch to burst up as the inflated mass pressed down on her lap.

She couldn’t believe how huge she was getting, how uncomfortably pressurized. Sandra reached down to organize some files on her desk top, her belly pressing into the edge, and causing her to belch again and again.

A dinging noise sounded from her cellphone. Sandra lifted it and saw that she had several text messages from Richard, her date the previous night.

She couldn’t believe that he was still trying to contact her after the—the display she had put on. She warmed at the thought of it, but then just felt more dismayed about her ever-increasing size.

Sandra tucked her phone into a drawer and began to go through her paperwork. Every some of she would remember to belch or fart, and found herself constantly shifting her hips, trying to get comfortable with the mass of gas trying to dominate her body.

She could practically see herself growing. She could feel her belly pushing outwards, stretching out her dress until the stitching strained and pulled apart.

She tried not to think about it, instead absorbing herself in the monotony of paperwork. She could hardly keep up with releasing the gas by then. Between the flush, the fatigue, and the mundaneness of work, Sandra began to doze off.

-

There was a light tapping on the door.

Sandra gasped awake. She found herself slumped in her chair, her belly pressing hard into her desk, skin prickling, abdomen tense, and insides aching.

Breathlessly, she pulled back, and marveled at her size. She was beginning to look as though she had a beachball under her dress, the hem pulled up from her knees to high on her thighs. The material was beginning to tear in some parts. As her office door opened, Sandra quickly hunched forward and tried to hide the mass beneath the desk. She groaned as it trembled, her face red and sweaty. Her breasts were hugely engorged, nipples aching. She looked as though she was about to pop.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

It was Richard. He worked on the floor above her office.

Sandra whimpered, and covered her mouth, struggling not to belch. Finally she managed to speak, “So you show up at my work place?” She tried to come off as indignant, but she suspected she just sounded desperate and disoriented, as she was.

Richard gave her a dubious look. “What’s going on with you?”

“Richard, this is my job. You…nrrhh…you have no right to barge in like this. I don’t even know why my secretary let you—” Her belly seemed to tighten a notch, mound squishing under the edge of the desk and causing her insides to churn. Sandra’s words were cut off by a monstrous belch, that proved a harbinger to several more. Even a fart tore out of her. She was mortified.

Sandra struggled to contain it all, but the gas seemed to build and build. “Richard you—urrrrrpp—you have to—burrrhh.” She desperately motioned for him to leave, even managing to heave herself up, causing the pressure to shift, and she didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing.

All she knew was that Richard was now staring at her massive abdomen, the mound perfectly round and outgrowing her flanks, and he was looking strangely…enamoured.

“Get out!” Sandra finally managed to cry out, pointing at the exit, before she descended into more belches and farts.

Seeming to jolt out of her reverie, Richard gave her belly one last glance, then hurried off.


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