Shark, Part 27 - Male Version

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Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, multiples, weight gain, stuffing.

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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There was a light knock at the door. “Hey, just dropping off the mail,” Dane said as he pushed his way in. 

Colton nodded tiredly, forcing a smile. 

Dane took a few steps into the tiny office before setting the mail he had on top of the pile already sitting on the edge of the desk. 

As Dane turned to leave, Colton jolted. He hadn’t realized he had audibly gasped until Dane glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, I guess it’s been a while,” Dane said in amusement as he gave his backside a pat that left it wobbling. 

Dane had the biggest ass Colton had ever seen! It was absolutely enormous! It looked like he had a pair of volleyballs stuffed into his pants. And the pants gave him a profound wedgy, leaving very little to the imagination. 

Colton lightly shook himself. “I guess those supplements worked,” he choked. 

“Ditto,” Dane said, throwing a long look at Colton’s chest and belly. 

With a wink, Dane walked out of the room, his globes quaking. Colton ran his hand down his face. What the hell is this place? 

The sound of another knock startled Colton. He jerked, looking expectantly at the door, wondering if Dane had forgotten something. 

But this time, Chris poked his head in. “Hey man, how ya doing? Heard you had a great meeting.” 

Colton shot him a hateful look. “That’s one way to put it,” he said coldly. 

“I heard the data was solid. And also, your tits look great.” 

“What do you want?” Colton deadpanned. 

What Chris wanted became apparent as he stepped inside, his right hand clutching a hanger from which a jumpsuit dangled. “Amy just wanted me to drop this off.” 

“Chris…” Colton started warningly. 

“I mean, with the big boss coming, you don’t think you’re wearing that, do you?” He nodded to the shirt and trousers Colton was wearing, both custom-made. 

As reluctant as Colton was to admit it, Chris did have a point. Mr. Oharo would certainly be displeased to see Colton dressed in business attire. Oharo worked in the café space and would expect everyone to be dressed like one of the…workers. 

One of the Oho’s waiters particularly: perky, skimpy, and round. 

Colton’s gaze darted to the jumpsuit. It looked like it could comfortably fit someone half his size. “Is that really my only option?” 

Chris threw the suit across the desk, knocking over some of the papers stacked there in the process. “Just put it on. He’s gonna be here any minute.” 

Chris gave a mocking wave with his fingers, his huge tits bobbing in the process. Then he turned and left, leaving Colton alone in the office, Colton’s thighs starting to go numb beneath the weight of his belly. 

Right, he thought, frowning down at the outfit. 

After arduously heaving himself up, Colton waddled over to the door to lock it. He then made sure that the window blinds were securely closed as his hand moved to cup his churning abdomen. 

Pulling on the jumpsuit took an infuriating amount of effort. Colton knew from the start that it wouldn’t fit, yet was convinced that any complaints he made would be ignored—not unless he proved the suit wasn’t in any way adequate. 

He struggled and groaned, his cheeks reddening as he managed to pull the strained, stretchy material over his hot, swollen body. He twitched as his nipples hardened and ached, yet he somehow managed not to lactate. 

Colton was panting by then. Of course it was ridiculously tight at the stomach. The jumpsuit was so absurd and impractical, he could have laughed. But instead, he fumbled, he pulled, and he forced the buttons together. 

By the time he got the thing on, he felt weak in the knees, so he leaned heavily against the wall. He looked down at himself in disbelief. Somehow, the suit actually fit him. 

It was formfitting at the gut, the material awkwardly thin. It even displayed an embarrassing few inches of cleavage.

His belly heaved with his heavy breathing, so blatantly massive and round that every ripple was visible as the mound rose and fell, every movement detectable against the taut surface. The jumpsuit hid nothing. His stomach might as well have been bare. 

“Fucking Amy,” Colton breathed, because this was just typical of the damn tailor. He tugged and fidgeted, but there was no improvement in terms of coverage.

Just as Colton started to consider taking the offensive outfit off, he heard a small commotion outside. Seconds later, there was another pair of knuckles insistently rapping on the office door. 

“They picked him up from the airport. His ETA is ten minutes,” Chris called from the corridor. 

“Great,” Colton muttered sarcastically under his breath. Tempted as he was to just barricade himself in the office, he clutched his belly and waddled over to the door. 

After he opened it, Chris gave him a once-over. “Looks great,” he leered. 

Colton rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered as he fidgeted and tugged at the suit some more. 

Trying not to think about the two boxes of goop’ms he had just scarfed down (he was fucking surrounded by the stuff), he followed Chris down the hallway and back into the main café area. 

“Everyone, just try to look busy,” Chris called out to the café workers buzzing around. “Colton, come behind the display, next to Logan here.” 

Indeed, there stood Logan, looking cool and relaxed in a crisp suit, his hungry gaze practically devouring Colton. 

Colton just gave him a hateful look, gripping the display for balance as he closed their distance. He flinched when his belly bumped into the counter and took a step back. He had yet to acclimate to how far his body spanned now. 

“You’re looking healthy,” Logan muttered, checking his watch in an attempt to appear nonchalant. 

Was that Logan's way of calling him fat? He wasn’t worth a retort. Colton just rolled his eyes and tried not to pay too much attention to the chocolate cake in the display practically emitting subliminal messages demanding Colton to eat it. 

God, he was tight – his belly packed with food, fat, and fucking life. “I really need to sit down,” he muttered to Chris who was leaning casually against an adjacent counter. 

“He’s outside,” Chris hissed, his gaze on his phone. He hurriedly shoved the device deep between his enormous tits. “Everyone, look natural!” 

God, this is stupid, Colton thought, fidgeting with his jumpsuit again. 

It really was, though. All of this, as a whole. He looked around at all the skimpily-clad servers in various degrees of pregnancy. How the hell did this even work, as a business model? 

The door opened with that tacky jingle Colton could hardly tolerate anymore. A man in a suit walked in and held the door for Oharo’s slow entry. 

Suddenly Colton’s breath caught in his throat. He was abruptly reminded of the tenuous nature of this collaboration. If Oharo didn’t like what he saw here, it could be the end of the whole café deal. 

Oharo took a moment to look around, his aged hands adjusting his glasses. He gazed at the café, the servers, and then the front display. He steadily registered the people behind the counter. Chris, then Logan, then finally, Colton. His expression brightened. “Colton, it’s been too long!” 

Colton tentatively smiled. “Indeed it has, sir,” he said, giving a slight bow of his head, because a bow at his waist just wasn’t going to happen. 

“You look well!” Oharo boomed, moving closer. “Come here so I can see you.” Still, he had yet to greet Logan, Chris, or anyone else. 

Colton’s face fell. Suddenly feeling rather gross, he obediently made his way out from behind the counter, his belly slowly emerging before the rest of him, a swollen display of his most profound failings. 

Oharo looked delighted. “My, have you changed!” 

Colton gave a grimace of a smile. “Yes, things are certainly…progressing. You must be exhausted from your flight, sir. We can have you escorted to your hotel. Or would you prefer a quick tour?” 

Oharo opted for the tour, and insisted that Colton be the one to give it. 

Colton awkwardly waddled around, guiding Oharo through the small establishment. Oharo watched the way Colton clutched his abdomen, his movements onerous, his narrow frame not well suited for the expanse of his condition. 

Colton’s pregnancy was unusually large. Beyond the size of what women typically reached, even when they were at term. Colton just tried his best not to think about it. 

“And that’s our set-up,” Colton told Oharo at the close of the tour. “It’s quaint, but functional. I sent you the numbers. Business is doing really good.” They found a table in the main café, where Colton eased himself down. This was a parallel experience to his visit to Asia, only now he was hosting. He was fully indoctrinated into the insanity. 

“Sir, it’s good to see you again,” Logan said as he sat down with them, hilariously pretending not to notice the fact that Mr. Oharo had entirely ignored him thus far. 

“Cool to finally meet in person,” Chris said as he plopped down to join them. 

“Mr. Graham,” Oharo said with a nod. “Chris.” He smiled. 

A waiter came over with tea and pastries, setting them on the table. 

Colton glanced at the waiter, only to find himself eye-level with Dane’s enormous ass cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze again. 

Oharo gave Dane’s butt a considering look, before he returned his attention to Colton, Logan, and Chris. “How is he doing?” Oharo asked Chris. 

Chris seemed to know what Oharo was talking about without any need for elaboration. “He’s doing great. Big appetite. We’re getting him a snack in a minute.” He winked at Colton, who reddened. 

“Oh?” 

“He is very compliant,” Chris went on with smugness. “Oh, he’s practically insatiable. Hardly needs any coaxing anymore. He just loves to eat, just wants to fatten that belly.” 

Colton felt himself going tense in his seat, his stomach throbbing. 

“We give him plenty of sugar, wheat, lard, and sometimes…” Chris went on and on, talking about Colton as though he wasn’t a person, but a damn farm animal. 

It was infuriating. Colton’s hands balled into fists. It took every drop of his resolve not to deck Chris. 

“He’s really taking to his role here,” Chris finished. 

It was delusional. Colton hardly even frequented the café anymore. His work was in the corporate office. 

Nevertheless, he did his best to look calm, no matter how flustered he felt. He only had to tolerate this for a few days, after all. He offered Chris a deranged sort of grin that promised suffering in the near future. 

“Mr. Oharo,” Colton sharply cut in. “I was actually hoping that you could speak to Roger for me. You see, he’s not…very comfortable with my condition. So, I thought if you put in a good word—” 

“Why don’t we get an early start today?” Oharo interrupted, still addressing Chris. “It’s nearly lunch. Colton deserves a treat for all the hard work he’s been doing.” 

Colton stiffened. 

“Sure thing, boss,” Chris said, waving his hand to get the attention of a nearby server. “Bring out Colton’s lunch.”

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