Obsessed, Part 9

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Summary: Though he knows it is odd, Theodore desperately wants breasts. Through diet, drug treatments, massages, and more, he develops C-cups, and he thinks the size is perfect. They're not too extravagant, and he doesn't mind the stares he gets. He couldn't be happier. But someone in Theodore's life is really turned on by Theodore's breasts, and isn't satisfied. He wants them bigger.  Contains: Male: breast expansion, weight gain, lactation, eventual pregnancy.

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.

Previous Chapter

-

Lingerie was usually fun.

But that evening it was proving a struggle. Theodore was trying his very best to squeeze into the custom-made corset top John had gifted him only a couple of days earlier. But Theodore just couldn’t get it to accommodate any part of his torso. He wrenched and squeezed. He didn’t need it on for long. In fact, it was meant to be pulled right off. If he could just get it around him for all of five minutes —

The fabric started to split, Theodore’s cleavage surging free as he gasped for breath. He gazed down at himself, a little daunted.

He knew that once he explained this wardrobe mishap to John, John’s only regret would be that he hadn’t been able to witness the top tearing off of him.

-

Theodore was still gaining weight. Honestly, it was the least of his problems. But now, he had a certifiable belly, one that was rounded and protruding, yet was entirely overwhelmed by his jugs, so most of the time, he hardly thought about it.

But that evening, Theodore was given a stark reminder of the mound, after he had gobbled down three greasy baked chickens under John’s urging.

Theodore usually wasn’t one for binge-eating, but, paired with his surging appetite, John seemed to like it. And Theodore liked what John liked. In the end, it turned them both on.

Theodore was sweating where he was perched in his seat at the kitchen table, breathing deeply and arching, sweat pouring from his brow. His belly was painfully tight. It hadn’t just been the chickens. There had been a large bowl of buttered rice, another of creamy pasta, and dessert had been a pair of overstuffed custard pies. For once, Theodore’s swollen, engorged breasts were not the pinnacle of his discomfort. His shaking hands slowly moved to cup his overstuffed belly, and he was briefly stunned by how far it spanned. Since when had he been this round?

He groaned as his belly tightened yet more and pushed out at least an inch, his body stiff as he endured the last of the tension. Then he took to gasping, clutching the edge of his chair as John simply watched him.

Theodore heaved himself up from his seat, grunting from the effort. He momentarily gripped the table, then stepped back, before he started to stagger for the bathroom, not even explaining his departure. His huge tits swayed with his movements, his belly over-packed. He had barely made it to the bathroom when his nipples started gushing milk in the white tank top he was wearing. But that was hardly unusual. Theodore finally got through the door and closed it behind him, before he made his way to the sink.

His hands cupped the sides of his breasts, mainly to lift them slightly, and afford himself a better view of the mound beneath them. His belly wasn’t nearly as absurd as his breasts were, but it was definitely something of note. Had he not had a pair of basketball-sized tits perched on his chest, his belly’s size would have appeared quite notable and substantial. Even unusual.

There was a knock on the door. “You all right?” John called.

“Yeah…” Theodore responded. “Just…” He didn’t know what to think of it. He continued to stare at the round curve. He gently released his breasts, allowing them to plop and jiggle. He carefully slid his fingers over his stomach. It was firm. Which meant that this couldn’t just be fat. There was something abnormal about this internal tension.

“Open up,” said John.

Theodore was still panting. His hands lightly glided over the firm mound of his stomach. “Yeah.” He shuffled over to the door, not sure why he had locked it in the first place. He opened it and tried to smile convincingly. “I think I might be sick.” He dropped his chin to indicate his abdomen.

John stepped closer. He joined Theodore in cupping the swell, his hand large and rough.

Theodore inhaled sharply. His insides were still aching from his binge earlier.

“Odd,” John muttered. “It almost looks like you’re…” He trailed off.

“What?” Theodore raised a brow.

“One minute.” John gently guided Theodore out of the way so that he could step inside. John then walked past him and went to the sink, where he opened the medicine cabinet. He pulled out something that made both of Theodore’s eyebrows shoot up this time.

“My ex-wife’s,” John explained. “We had a scare before she left. Thank god it was a false alarm.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Theodore leaned back against the doorframe. “That’s literally impossible.”

“Well your body has been known to do very unique things,” John countered, motioning to the huge breasts heaving on Theodore’s chest.

“It’s no comparison. For me to get — well it requires a whole fucking set of organs I wasn’t born with.”

“How do you know you weren’t?” John countered.

“You think I’m intersex?” said Theodore, baffled.

“It would explain a lot.”

“No, I it’s just that damn…” Theodore trailed off, flushing. He had never told John about the drug that had started this all.

“Doesn’t hurt to try it out.” John raised the test a bit higher. “Why not? Just for fun.”

Irritably, Theodore grabbed the offered pregnancy test. “Fine. I’ll take it. Get out.”

John appeared amused by the order, but nevertheless, left the bathroom.

Theodore trudged over to the toilet, thinking it utterly ridiculous to find himself shoving his pants down and peeing on the little plastic stick. He sighed as he flushed then adjusted his pants before staggering over to the sink. He set the test on the edge and washed his hands, still panting somewhat.

“You done?” John called.

Theodore rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “As I said, it’s a waste of time, it’s—” He froze as he looked down at the symbol that had materialized on the plastic stick.

John let himself back in. “God damn,” he said as he also stared, seeming baffled that his own inference had turned out true.

“This makes no sense,” Theodore choked.

“It’s damn insane,” said John. Steadily, he smiled.

Theodore was finding it difficult to breathe. “G-gotta be a mistake,” he managed.

“We can try another. A different brand. We can pick one up tomorrow.” But John said this with a knowing look on his face.

Nausea roiled through Theodore’s stomach, but it wasn’t strong enough that he thought he would throw up. “I — I can’t —” He was starting to panic. It was John’s look of triumph—the man had the tendency to always be right.

Theodore grunted at a sudden rumbling gurgle in his belly, the mound perceptibly tightening. He clutched it, groaning. There was no way any of this made sense.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” said John.

Theodore gave a hysterical little laugh. He was still in shock. His hands trembled where they were gripping the sink edge.

John came over, helping him, wrapping an arm behind him. “Let’s go. You should get some rest,” he muttered as he ushered him off, and as Theodore’s head continued to spin.

-

Even after testing positive for pregnancy on several different tests, Theodore was still experiencing a certain level of denial. He just didn’t understand how this could possibly be happening. Frankly, it was insane!

But John helped him through the numbness. Even capitalized on it a little. John said it was for the best that Theodore was constantly supplied with mountainous portions of food, even helping Theodore at times to mechanically shove it all into his mouth, bite by bite. Somehow this only seemed to exacerbate Theodore’s monstrous appetite.

Theodore’s students were understandably shocked by his ongoing transformation.

They sat in silence, staring, yet not absorbing the information that Theodore was relaying. Grades were plummeting. Theodore tried fruitlessly to get them engaged, but it was hard. Nearly impossible, with the weight on his chest straining his body. His belly packed with a heaviness that was more solid than liquid. He felt perpetually bloated and gassy, his insides lurching. And he was getting bigger every day. Eating, growing, and struggling to support it all.

He was always flushed and sweaty. Hot and dizzy. He didn’t know how he managed to keep up with his workload. His body was a relentlessly working machine and things were beginning to snowball.

“We should move in together,” John mentioned one evening after work.

It wasn’t the first time he had suggested it.

Theodore offered a sort of hum in response, straining a smile as he had done before. It was awkward. He wasn’t ready to move in with John. He wasn’t even sure if he saw his and John’s relationship as a long-term thing. There was just something rather unsettling there.

Possibly the power dynamic. Theodore could not help seeing John as a superior, regardless of context.

John did not appear upset by Theodore’s non-response. He just smiled in a way that suggested he thought their cohabitation to be inevitable.

They were certainly spending a lot of time together. Even at that moment, they were making their way into Theodore’s apartment.

There were papers everywhere. Dust covered the furniture and banisters. Dishes were piled high in the sink, odds and ends littering the counters. Theodore wasn’t the most functional lately. It seemed to take every ounce of will and energy he had just to get through the day.

“John,” he pleaded, dropping his briefcase and papers right by the entry, adding to the mess. But he could hardly care.

He released a yelp as his nipples started spraying. John came up behind him, wrapping his strong arms around what he could of the younger man. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Theodore wasn’t opposed. He was absolutely desperate for some attention. Sex proved to be an outlet for the release of much of his milk in addition to other things.

In only moments, they were against each other in bed. Theodore was on his knees, gripping the headboard, his tits jiggling and his belly bouncing — he looked at term despite the fact that he wasn’t nearly. Couldn’t be.

And then John was just fucking him, hard and forcefully, thrusting in rhythm with the heaves of Theodore’s body. It felt amazing somehow, all of Theodore’s discomforts lost to the growing tension in his cock and the waves of pleasure coursing over him. When he came, both of his tits sprayed forcefully, offering more relief from the chronic pressure that filled him. Theodore could hardly breathe but he smiled all the same, his eyelids fluttering, milk pouring down his chest and onto the bloated flesh beneath.

John wasn’t far behind him. Theodore could feel the tension in his body, and when John lost himself, somehow the force made Theodore’s core reverberate with muscles spasms.

There was a surge of tension like something bursting inside of him, Theodore’s eyes going wide as his gut pushed out with force.

He released a hoarse wail, his belly jiggling as it settled, the mound having shoved out several inches in only a few seconds. There was no way this was normal. Then again, he’d left normal behind weeks ago.

Theodore gripped the headboard for dear life, struggling to breathe. “Fuck,” she choked out, clutching the orb. Trying to process what had just happened.

“Christ,” John muttered, still holding onto him.

Theodore could barely fit in any of his clothes anymore — even the newest ones he had purchased from the online maternity store. And his body was just so damn heavy. Yet it was getting heavier by the moment, it seemed.

“You should take a leave from work,” John suggested as he helped Theodore shift into a proper sitting position.

This was another of the man’s suggestions that Theodore was not open to. He had worked tirelessly to make it into his current position. There was no way he was giving it up over a little baby weight.

“No,” was Theodore’s simple response. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Obstinately, he heaved himself up, grunting from the effort.

He found himself waddling as he made his way to the dresser, attempting to tug on the undershirt he had doffed earlier.

It barely pulled halfway down his belly now. Theodore’s gaze drifted to his driver’s license lying there alongside his keys, the photo of him displayed there looking thin and focused.

To think that this determined young man had been him only weeks earlier. He could hardly believe how much his eccentric little dream had completely warped things.

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