Shark, Part 26 - 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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Colton was getting used to all the staring.

The most baffled looks came from the executives who had not seen him since returning from the retreat.

Others seemed to find his condition distasteful. Only a small minority of people seemed to listen to what he was saying.

“And those are the projections for June, once we implement the new payment protocols,” Colton breathlessly said as he motioned to the whiteboard. He was breathing heavily as he clutched his orb and awkwardly turned to face the meeting table.

A dozen other executives were blinking back at him, their faces mostly vacant. It didn’t seem that they realized the presentation was over.

“Any questions?” Colton said, though he hoped there weren’t. He grit his teeth as he tried to keep the volume of his panting to a minimum.

The room was silent, everyone looking rather numb, or as though they weren’t sure what they had just witnessed.

This was good news for Colton. He fully intended to just grab his things and abscond to his office. But just as he was reaching for his briefcase, someone raised their hand.

“Where does the maintenance budget factor in?” asked a man named Palmer. “I like the recommendations for new equipment, but are we going to need to hire more people for the training and upkeep?”

Colton felt as though he was sitting in a sauna, the heat nearly dizzying as it encompassed his belly, his chest, and his face. He tried to breathe through it. He deeply wanted to sit down, but he put on a pleasant smile, presenting himself to be as calm and content as could be.

“You’ll find more information on the budget in the packets I handed out,” he said, indicating the papers set in front of each person at the large, rectangular table. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to review all the numbers today, but if you’d like to read through it, you’re welcome to email me with any questions.” Colton tugged at his collar. He was starting to feel suffocated.

It wasn’t just the heat, he realized. His skin was tingling so relentlessly it felt as though a thousand spiders were crawling all over his chest. His nipples were tense and stinging. They felt as though they were distending. Colton tried his best to breathe evenly, hoping that no one else noticed how truly erect his nipples were getting.

He wasn’t quite sure what was going on. There was nothing here to arouse him. Well, aside from the relentless weight of his massive pregnancy sitting low on his pelvis, pushing on his sex organs. But that feeling was continuous, and it wasn’t the root of the current sensations assailing him. He could feel himself sweating, dampness collecting into beading moisture. Maybe he shouldn’t have been embarrassed about all this. He was pregnant. Quite heavily pregnant, at that. Shouldn’t some awkwardness be expected?

“If there’s nothing else…” he panted, “…thank you all for your time.”

His hands fumbled when he reached again for his things. He felt disoriented. He could just come back for it later.

And so, clutching only his massive belly, Colton drew a deep breath, and took a step toward the door.

But he froze.

“Oh…” Colton breathed.

Executives who had been gathering up their papers and preparing to take their leave stalled at seeing Colton’s inactivity.

“You okay, Stevens?” one of them asked.

Colton pressed his lips tightly shut, but a grunt still made its way up his throat. His breasts just felt so strange at that moment. There was tingling, and heat, but also an increasing heaviness and a strange sense of being bloated. The pressure was increasing. His cheeks reddened as he struggled to breathe. As his skin prickled, he finally realized what was happening.

He wanted to get out of there, but he didn’t think he could move. His face contorted as his breasts throbbed, his hands sliding up from his belly to cup them.

Every pulsation was accompanied by an increase in pressure, Colton breathing heavily as he tried to endure it. He could also feel the girth of his breasts subtly increasing, as the mounds grew rounder and fuller, his nipples swelling even more.

“What’s the matter?” another executive asked, reminding Colton that he had an audience.

His breasts were expanding. Colton could feel his bra cups pinching into his flesh as he steadily outgrew them. It took only seconds for the bra to become painfully restricting, a few seams snapping, as Colton’s shirt grew tighter at the chest.

It wasn’t the same sort of pressure he had experienced during the growth spurts of his belly. This pressure was more liquid and uniform, pressing at all sides as he tried to endure the rapidly increasing engorgement.

His breasts were growing, getting fuller and rounder as his nipples bulged yet more in preparation.

Executives who had stood up to take their leaves abruptly sat back down, placing their hands on their laps. Everyone stared in dumb silence as Colton stood there, struggling.

The final fibers of his bra gave way, diamonds of flesh forming between his shirt buttons. Colton’s cheeks were red, his packed flesh feeling insanely sensitive. The mounds continued to throb and swell, his nipples aching for release as he inhaled slowly, hardly moving. One of his top buttons snapped off, revealing a generous fold of sweaty cleavage.

Colton knew his chest had been DDs at the start of the day but suspected they had jumped up at least two cup sizes in just the past moments. They sat high on his chest, shelved by his massive belly. They were too sensitive for him to even cradle with his hands anymore. He shifted and arched his back a little, groaning. He wished he was alone. Wished the others would leave. He felt nearly delirious from the combined pressure, heat, discomfort, and arousal.

Another button snapped, yet more embarrassing cleavage pushing forward. By impulse, his hands moved toward his nipples but then froze short of making contact.

God, this was mortifying. Two weeks ago, no one at the office had even known that he was a pregnant freak of a man. The pressure continued to increase. His face reddened worse, his body pouring sweat as he grunted, and his body pushed him past the brink of control.

Colton groaned as a flood of warm fluid spilled into his shirt. The material thinned as it dampened, seeming to pull closer against him as it outlined every detail of his swollen chest, until he might as well have been wearing nothing at all.

Fluid continued to gush and saturate his clothing. He couldn’t believe the volume. This felt like…this was coming out of him. He was full of milk. Lactating.

He rapidly soaked his top until milk was dripping onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath his feet as he stood there, flushed and struggling to breathe.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, the unexpectedly arousing sensation of release in sharp conflict with his humiliation.

Seated around the table, several businessmen gawked at him, frozen, silent and open-mouthed.

His chest felt as though it were pulsing. His nipples were drastically, almost painfully, erect. He couldn’t stop releasing milk. This was all so new to him, so jarring.

He staggered for the door, whimpering pathetically. He couldn’t believe how heavy he was. The other executives remained stunned silent as Colton dragged himself out of the room.

Somehow he got himself to the nearest lavatory and was soon sitting in an extra-wide handicap stall (he hadn’t even attempted the regular stalls), seated on a toilet, staring forward as he breathed, even shivering a little. He was soaked in cooling milk, as warm fluid continued to methodically flow out of his nipples. It must have been going on for fifteen minutes now. Colton had no idea how he was able to produce so much of it.

He felt rather dazed, unable to focus on any one thing. His mind spun as his hands absently slid up to cup his chest gently.

Someone rapped on the stall door, startling him.

“Erm…Mr. Stevens, sir?” called a feminine voice. It must have been one of the receptionists.

“This is the men’s room,” said Colton hoarsely.

“Sorry sir,” she called back awkwardly. “It’s just—Mr. Rodriquez asked me to check in on you. And I…I was able to grab this from the shopping center on the corner.”

Colton looked down at the pair of high heels beneath the stall. “What?” he said weakly.

A box was pushed beneath the stall door. And the image displayed on it was—

Oh.

Breast pumps. Colton’s numb mind tried to start working again.

“Preloaded with batteries,” Ruth explained gently. “The instructions are really easy. I actually used this brand when I had my son — well anyway, you just have to get firm contact, and you flip the switch.”

Colton nodded dumbly. With shaking hands, he lifted the box.

“I’ll be right outside if you need any help.” Ruth’s heels clicked as she retreated. Colton could hear the bathroom door open and close again.

He gazed forward at nothing, still rather stunned. He wondered if the disaster in the meeting room had gotten back to Roger yet. What did this mean for Colton’s career? He had seen the looks of disgust the other executives had been sending him.

Despite the static, he tried to get his body to function.

And so, following a deep breath, he started to unbutton the remains of his shirt.

-

There was no manual on having a pair of fat, lactating breasts.

Colton supposed there was plenty of information online, but he personally preferred not to peruse it with any depth.

But he got the general gist of things. The more his nipples were stimulated, the more his body would try to cater to a need, presumably that of a hungry baby. And so, the more milk he produced, the bigger his breasts would grow.

If he was able to avoid unnecessary nipple stimulation, his breasts would not keep producing greater quantities of milk, and his breast-size would stabilize. Maybe even decrease.

All of this made Colton uncertain about the electronic device he had been given and whether he even had any use for it.

He had tried out the pumps briefly at work in the bathroom stall, just to handle the surplus and stop making a mess. And the sensation had been conflicting, to say the least. It felt warm and comfortable, and even a bit pleasurable as he sat there, breathing heavily, clutching his huge belly as his breasts throbbed in rhythm with the pulsing draws of the machine.

But that was stimulation. It had felt good, but it was…counterproductive, wasn’t it?

Colton couldn’t stand that he was in an even greater mess than before. If he wanted to alleviate the leaking, he had to pump. Yet if he pumped, his breasts would rebound with even greater quantities of milk. It was a disastrous cycle.

“Fucking Chris,” Colton muttered under his breath.

At present, Colton was in the café office, which he hardly fit in anymore. He was starting to realize that the world wasn’t made to accommodate men like him. He remembered the way he had watched Tim try to navigate his massive belly around corners and furnishings, bumping into things. It had been absolutely absurd – even comical.

But now Colton was facing the same struggles. Was he truly becoming just like Tim?

He cringed at the thought and tried to dispel it from his mind.

He felt wedged there, his huge belly perched against his lap while pressing against the edge of the desk, separating him from it so much that he could hardly reach it. It was becoming impractical to be productive in his condition. Colton spent most of his time struggling and fidgeting, trying to get the world to accommodate his expansive body.

His breasts had surged up to the size of cantaloupes since the meeting yesterday, sitting high on his chest, pressed together to create a deep fold of cleavage. Colton was keeping a watchful eye on them, almost afraid to move lest he start leaking again. Whatever Chris had given him had been extremely potent. Colton still couldn’t believe how he was being transformed at the leisure of others. For whatever sick pleasures it offered.

He was continually uncomfortable, the arms of his chair digging into his body, making him realize that the width of his belly had outgrown the rest of him. It was outrageous!

His belly gurgled and lurched, causing him to clutch it, his face scrunching. He sat there anxiously, awaiting word on Oharo’s arrival. The magnate was traveling there all the way from Asia. He was checking in on the budding franchise, clearing them for expansion. And expand they would.

“Ngghhh…” Colton groaned as his belly trembled. He rubbed it desperately. Lots of activity. He blamed his nerves. But he would handle Oharo (not the other way around). He would guide the businessman through his brief visit.

Colton was an adult. He had rights, autonomy, and best of all — agency. This was his turf, and he was in control. There was nothing to worry about.

He would handle Oharo.

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