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Kompera
Kompera

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Encore (4 Parts)

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

Prompt Directory

1.

“This used to be a dump site,” said Fran dubiously as she watched Viv dip her toe into the water. “I wouldn’t.” She crossed her arms.

“How bad could it be?” said Viv as she stripped down to her bra and underwater. The lake water was a murky green and seemed to even give off a faint glow. It was alluring somehow.

Viv turned around to give her sister a wink before dropping back into the water.

Shaking her head, Fran walked back towards their parent’s cabin rental.

From the water, Viv frowned. The sisterly bonding trip was not turning out as she had hoped.

-

Viv was happy to get back to her city apartment Monday morning. She had work after all.

Viv was multitalented. She played numerous musical instruments, and even sang and danced. She got by doing performances at venues throughout city. She had a modest yet reliable fanbase. It wasn’t a lot of money, but she was doing something that made her happy.

As she got dressed for her performance that evening, Viv found herself having trouble getting into her favorite outfit—black shorts and a blazer. The shorts were proving too tight, squeezing against her backside, and barely buttoning. Viv turned sideways in her full-length mirror, idly cupping and squeezing her ass. There was a new layer of softness that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Viv absently scratched at an itch at the midpoint of her left cheek. She has always thought she could do to gain some weight, and didn’t mind the growth too much. In fact, it gave her an excuse to go shopping.

At her gig that night, where she performed as a backup dancer, her ass felt more swollen than ever. People seemed to be paying more attention to her than the other dancers, who had slim, lithe physiques in contrast to her curving one.

Her performance a few days later was a harp recital, and Viv was frustrated to find that her blouse buttons would barely connect. The weight gain had only surged, now accompanied by a few odd rashes.

She was not eating differently, though she was approaching thirty. She had heard that the metabolism slowed down at that point in a person’s life. Viv resolved to go on a diet.

In only a matter of days, her belly was rounding out quite profoundly, and her ass was full, soft, and plump, looking as though she’d gotten injections. The rashes on each cheek were now accompanied by a bump at the midpoints. The more she scratched, the more defined they seemed to become.

Her stomach had gotten so swollen, people often thought she was pregnant. The mound wasn’t firm though, but fat and soft. Weirdest of all, her belly button had popped out and taken on a pinkish hue. Viv knew she was packing on the pounds but it hardly seemed normal.

Because of her lack of insurance, Viv continued to put off medical attention. She did performances as scheduled, and her spectators seemed to find her weight gain fascinating. Her following even seemed to grow. But some of the people who came to watch her didn’t seem too interested in her music.

In only another two weeks, it became a struggle to get up. Her belly was almost as large as a woman’s at term in pregnancy, albeit more soft and bouncy. She functioned in soft of denial, and continued to adapt to the discomforts as though they were normal. When she walked around, she supported the underside of her belly with her hands, and had even taken to wearing pregnancy girdles when it got to be too exhausting.

The mound had gotten tight and tingly, her belly button large, pink, and stinging. It was even…responsive. It hardened at times. Viv tried not to touch it, and told herself it was merely inflammation. The rash that surrounded it made it look almost like a giant…nipple. That evening, she grimaced as she squeezed it into the largest pregnancy girdle she owned, before going to her latest show. She danced gently, but awkwardly, and felt her ass swaying. Her cheeks resembled fat honeydews in the back of her leggings, the distended moles on each sticking out visibly.

By the end of her performance, she felt suffocated. She usually waited until she got home, but found herself clambering into her dressing room and desperately releasing her belly from the tight confines of the girdle. Gasping for breath, her ran her hands up and down the hot, tingly mound. She groaned and arched. Her belly button tensed. “Ohhh…” she trembled. Her navel burned, and something abruptly started—spurting out of it, against her vanity. It looked like milk. Viv stared down at herself in shock.

There was a knock on the door. “Viv, they’re demanding an encore,” the club’s owner called.

Gasping for breath, Viv clutched at her belly nipple, trying to stop the leaking. She was completely nonplussed. “I don’t t-think…” she began to stammer.

“They’re wild for you, Viv. I’m willing to triple your commission.”

Viv needed the money badly. She struggled to rise, not bothering with the girdle—knowing that it probably wouldn’t fit her anymore. Her round ass rocked and jiggled. She could feel twin patches of moisture forming in her pants, but was too uneasy to examine it.

Swallowing down her nerves, Viv tugged down her shirt with one hand, clutched her belly with the other, and began to make her way back to the stage.

2.

In the encore performance, she tried to dance and sway gently, but she could feel herself leaking again with the movements. As damp spots formed on her front and her ass, she could see people pointing and whispering. The singer missed a note as he glanced back to see what was going on. By then, Viv was dripping on the floor. She shuffled off as soon as the performance ended, her employer goggling her as she hurried into her dressing room and slammed the door behind her.

This was insane. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. A long one. Viv gingerly cupped the side of her gut.

How was this even possible? How had her belly turned into a giant—a giant breast. And her ass cheeks—the whole thing was ridiculous. She was sure she was high, or had gone crazy, because this couldn’t be real.

Yet it went on and on, and when Viv awoke in her bed the next morning, the matterss was damp from her—milk. The thought was still unnerving.

She tried to ignore her changes, but she felt as though people could see what was happening beneath her clothes. At the grocery store that afternoon, she tensed as she felt her belly button—her belly-nipple, begin to grow erect, distending farther and harder, until it was visibly bulging out in her shirt. Viv shuddered as it began to tingle and sting, before the sensation of moisture returned. With a gasp, she clutched her navel with her hand, and hurried out of the store, her cart of groceries left forgotten.

She wanted to continue to avoid the issue, but she couldn’t. Her attempt at errands had proven that. Instead she experimented with baggy clothes and padding. She ordered support-wear online and selected rush delivery. She tried stockings and leggings to support her bloated, wobbling backside, and the distended pink nubs that protruded from those as well.

She looked overdue with child by then, and her ass would have put Nicki Minaj’s to shame. The latest maternity girdles arrived, but she could hardly squeeze into any of them, all proving to be painfully tight.

While her physical state continued to devolve, her career seemed to take an arbitrary and bizarre boost. That afternoon she noticed several voicemails. It was from a club she worked at from time to time as a backup singer. They wanted her to headline next weekend. They didn’t care what she did, they just wanted to offer her the coveted 10PM slot.

Viv was stunned. The club was ridiculously popular, and had made the careers of several people before her. She didn’t think she could pass the opportunity up. She hesitated, picked up her phone, called the club’s management office, and accepted the gig.

-

Over the next few days, Viv planned her performance, which helped distract her from the horrifying fact that things were exacerbating. Her giant belly-breast was growing, as was the smaller pair that had overtaken her ass.

The mounds were so sensitive, just sitting down made her groan and shudder, as her loins tingled and her ass stung. She had fashioned herself a spandex band to minimized the wobbling of her round belly, but the mound was so large and weighted, it hardly helped.

When she arrived at the club on the day of her big show, the costume designer on staff gave Viv an appraising look. “I didn’t know you were expecting.”

Viv reddened but did not correct the woman.

“Well, you can’t go out wearing that, baby or not,” the woman grimaced at Viv’s baggy shirt and loose pants. She rummaged in the dressing room closet, before producing an outfit. “Here, wear this.”

It was a small skirt and formfitting top that hugged against the curve of Viv’s belly once she pulled it on. Viv had realized she couldn’t wear any supportive garments that would compress her diaphragm and impact her singing. As Viv looked down at herself in the selected attire, she realized that it hid little, especially in terms of her excess nipples. She took a deep breath before she waddled towards the stage, praying that the room was dim at least, or that the audience would be so enraptured by her song that they didn’t notice the abnormalities of her body.

3.

In the stretchy tube top and skirt, that only just covered her up, Viv sauntered onto the stage and took her spot behind the microphone. She was doing a few ballads, no backup necessary for her performance. As such, she had a spotlight beaming down on her, and the audience seemed mystified, with no distractions except her huge belly and extraordinarily plump ass.

For just that moment, Viv allowed herself to be content with herself. Never in a million years had she thought that she would be in that spot, headlining Titan.

She began her song in stunning acapella, instruments progressively joining in to layer her melodious tune. She kept her movements at a minimum, then realized she could get away with hardly any movements at all. Instead she cradled the mic in her hands and tried to embody her favorite musicians, ones who could freeze a crowd and silence a room with their song.

And it was going splendidly, except for her nerves, which she feared were exacerbating her condition. She felt her body as a whole growing hotter, and her belly, oddly tight, her backside tingling, and all her nipples aching. She realized what was about to happen.

Viv laid her hand on her navel in a desperate effort to hide her leaking. It looked natural, and her song went on uninterrupted, though the feelings of tension continued to grow, and Viv wasn’t sure what was happening to her. Her palm grew moist with sweat and milk.

The nipples on her bottom were beginning to leak as well, but she kept her back pointed away from the crowd, and tried to ignore it. She could feel milk trickling down the backs of her legs, slipping into her flats and hitting the stage. She would have to be careful not to slip on her exit.

Yet tighter she grew. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her face red as she continued to belt out. She struggled, truly struggled, to keep it all in, to not release it. If she could just finish this song—

She missed a note, and she was getting odd looks from audience members. She knew the distress was evident in her face.

Her milk was creating a wet trail along the bottom of her shirt now. Her hand wasn’t hiding it anymore. It was a matter of time before she would start dripping.

She felt a throb of tension and her latest note quavered through her throat. She could practically see her belly pushing harder into her top, and soon there was nothing theoretical about it anymore.

“Nnrrgghh,” she grunted, actually pausing in the song. Everyone sat frozen, breaths held, as Viv panted. But she gathered her bearings and resumed.

Only now she was tripping over her words, and moving slightly, hoping to distract from the fact that she was visibly swelling.

Her shirt stretched over her belly, until some of her skin began to peek out beneath the taxed hem. She felt like miniature explosions were occurring beneath her skin, as her insides thrummed and burned, tingling and pushing; stretching her.

“Ohhh…” she arched her back by impulse, pushing her belly out as it grew immense on her torso. “Ahhhh…nghhhh…” she could hardly handle it. Her loins were sopping, back straining, as her belly rose like dough and her backside bloated out behind her.

When the hem of her shirt drew up so high as to pluck over her distended pink belly-nipple, gasps rang out throughout the crowd. “Mggh…” Viv groaned, as her fat nipple released a squirt of milk which splattered onto the stage.

She quickly covered the nub with her hand, but the damage was already done. She struggled to breathe as more milk trickled to the ground, as her skirt rode up her ass, and her body quivered.

It was mortifying. Her efforts to pull the tube top down over her belly-nipple caused risk of exposing her chest. She couldn’t believe how huge she had gotten. She looked due with triplets by then.

“I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered, turning to waddle away, not without revealing her massively bulging ass. She tugged feebly at both her top and her skirt as she made her way to her fitting room. There, she eased herself down, and put her face in her hands.

4.

The club manager banged on the door of her dressing room. “Viv, you have to come back out and finish your set.”

Viv raised her face from her hands. “You’ve got to be kidding, Tom. I’m a freakshow!”

“They’re going crazy. The crowd loves it.”

Viv was stunned. She carefully heaved herself to her feet, cradling the side of her belly to keep it steady. She went to the door and opened it just a crack to look Tom in the eye. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious. They want more,” said Tom eagerly.

Viv opened the door wider, and Tom’s gaze shifted down, locking on the mound of her belly as it bulged from the bottom of her top.

“I don’t know what kind of weird magic tricks you’re pulling…” Tom started.

“This isn’t a trick,” said Viv, feeling a little hysterical in the madness of the situation. “I wish it was, but—this is all real.” Viv patted the side of her belly-breast lightly, unintentionally causing it to release a fat squirt of milk that splashed against Tom’s torso.

Tom looked down at himself in astonishment, his mouth hanging open. He seemed briefly at a loss for words, until he managed, “The show must go on.”

So it must, Viv thought grimly. “About my bonus…” she lead.

“The double-bonus?” Tom caught on quickly. “Already taken care of.”

“I’ll be out in five,” said Viv, doing her best to seem cheerful.

“Make it two,” Tom responded. “And don’t bother changing. This is—this is perfect.” He motioned to her tight, wet clothes, most of her bobbing belly protruding free of her tube top, her tight skirt hugging against her, the bottoms of her butt-breasts beginning to protrude from the hem.

With one more lingering stare at her unusual form, Tom turned and walked off, lightly shaking his head and quietly chastising himself about his drug use.

Viv sighed and shook her own head. She truly didn’t want to go back out there. She briefly considered changing, but thought better of it. A dry outfit would probably be pointless with her leaking as she was.

Taking a deep breath, Viv slipped her feet into her shoes and gingerly walked out of her dressing room, heading to the stage while doing her best to keep her balance. Her round belly-breast bobbed, and her butt-breasts wobbled behind her, all of her nipples squirting and dripping. Even the two on her chest were starting to oddly sting.

She was astonished that when she meekly stepped out onto the stage, the crowd went absolutely wild. They stood to their feet, cheering and screaming. Viv went red in embarrassment as someone wolf whistled.

And yet it was encouraging.

Maybe her audience didn’t mind her oddities. Maybe her song really resonated with them. Doing her best to ignore the hot tightness of her three additional breasts, Viv took the mic in hand, gathered herself, and began the song again, starting from the beginning.

She closed her eyes, and imagined she was singing privately, getting lost in her being, where she was made aware of the prickles of sensation that littered her body. But she didn’t fight it this time. She gave herself over. She continued to sing, as she experienced the sensation of her original breasts—the ones on her chest, growing warm and hot like the others, nipples bulging out, as though being pushed forward by pressure.

Oddly, the skin beneath the breasts on her chest prickled and burned quite intenself, until she could feel something…changing. Pushing, developing, experiencing rapid growth on her proliferating body. Viv opened her eyes again as the song ended. She regained her whereabouts. She also took notice of what had happened on her chest.

She had two pairs of breasts on her chest, abusing the strained neckline of her shrinking tube top. Both pairs were round and fat, and perched upon the massive breast that had taken over her stomach. She now had seven breasts total, all seven nipples large and aching, and dripping milk. Viv stared down at herself in amazement, shifting, observing how bloated and heavy each individual mound was. This had to be happening for a reason. Her body was unusual and daunting, but it was also quite…bountiful and unique.

The crowd was silent, gawking at her, as though afraid to react. Viv sighed, and was just about to start a new song, when she took a sharp gasp of discomfort as the prickling sensations littering her body surged as though she was being electrified.

“Mmghhhh,” she shuddered, cupping her belly as it pushed out yet more, nipple squirting. The breasts on her backside seemed to shift down, as a new pair rapidly swelled into existence above them, making two wobbling pairs.

But things didn’t stop there. “W-what’s—h-happenning,” she stammered, as yet a third pair of breasts sprung forward on her ribcage, the crowd continuing to stare, mystified.

New breasts swelled on her shoulder blades, lower on her back, and even on her thighs. Secondary breasts began to develop against her massive belly-breast, others springing on her flanks. She was transforming—her body was becoming covered her breasts! “Oh god,” Viv breathed in horror, turning on her heel and waddling off as fast as she could.


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