Baby Elephant, Parts 10-12 - Male Version

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Note: This is the male version of Baby Elephant.

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Summary: An intern is impregnated with a baby elephant. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, animal pregnancy.

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10 Weeks

Another week, another half-inch of growth. Connor couldn’t physically see it, and would not have known had he not been measured. It wasn’t that significant, and initially he had considered it to be a relief—it was a huge improvement over his growth spurts of several inches—but as Connor did the calculations in his mind, he came to realize how much growth he could accumulate as the weeks progressed. A half an inch a week was two inches a month. As he was expected to endure his condition for another 21 and a half months, that was another 43 inches, which was north of three and a half feet! Connor uneasily rubbed the side of his belly. There had to be a solution to this. He had to find one.

Connor buried himself in his graduate studies. The sooner he finished his program, the sooner he would be capable of seeing the experiment through more perspectives. He did most of his school work online now, but it was still a struggle to balance papers, readings, and tests with his intern work at the lab, on top of his new, and overwhelming, condition. Sometimes he stared down at his mass. It was hard to believe he had become so huge in only the span of ten weeks.

Connor was now delivered home with the assistance of a minivan. He would be helped inside, in the back, where the row of seats in the middle had been removed to make way for his belly. Then he and his belly would be affixed to his seat though an awkward arrangement of straps, that mostly served to secure his belly, heaven forbid the fetus was jostled. The jostling did, however, bother him. Though the van was driven at a painfully slow pace, any minor bump or pothole left him rocking terribly, his chest leaking, and his stomach uneasy. One evening, he got sick, and there was a huge commotion. The van was stopped a mere block from his home, and a hoard of scientists sped over to meet them, collecting his vomit to measure, test, and examine, in the meantime, hauling Connor back to lab for a variety of tests that all told them the same thing: he’d had motion sickness. By the time it was over, it was dawn, and everyone had to get back to work at the lab. For Connor, it had been exhausting. Just thinking about it was exhausting. He never wanted to go through it again.

Connor looked up from his paperwork. It was 10PM already. The thought of making the trip home made him groan. Instead, he decided he would use the attached apartment again. Though not home, it served its purpose, and the bed was comfortable enough.

Connor pushed back his extra-wide chair. The arms were padded to support and cushion his girth. He breathed deeply, in and out, in preparation. It took him a while to heave himself up from his seat, his belly shuddering and breasts wiggling, until he was standing. Though the physical therapy was helping, the pregnancy was still a huge strain on his body.

He looked down at himself, belly and breasts rising and falling with his heavy breathing. He was still stuck in his too-small lab coat, and it was beginning to remind him of a stripper costume, with his belly popping through the opening, the single button straining as his breast-flesh bulged over the neckline, and his nipples close to being visible. Sometimes his puffed areola did peek out as he wobbled about. And now his newly-rounding ass was sticking out in the back in his too-tight pants that were slowly shrinking against his plumpening cheeks.

His belly was bigger than he was, and he could only support it for short periods of time. It was constantly flushed and sleek with sweat, constantly tight and feeling as though it was pulsating from within. Even then, he was holding onto one of the handles that had been adhered to the wall as he took a moment to catch his breath.

“Connor? Still here?”

Connor looked up to see Reed walking by, holding some folders. “Yeah. I’m staying tonight,” he said bitterly.

“Oh,” Reed nodded. “Well I ordered some food. You interested?”

His stomach growled, almost in affirmation. He reddened. “Sure, why not.” Reed had helped turn him into a freakshow, the least she could do was provide him with free food.

“Great. I just have to file these, but I’ll meet you back at my office in a few.”

Connor didn’t think much of it. He waddled to Reed’s office, surprised that there were about three boxes of pizza piled on his desk. He opened the top box and took a slice. It was covered in extra cheese, sausage, pepperoni, and pieces of bacon. Connor eyed Reed’s measly desk chair, but knew there was no way it would be able to accommodate his massive mound. Instead, he pressed his ass against the desk to lean on it (the desk was mounted on the floor), finding a relatively comfortable position to take a bite of the slice in his hands. It was delicious. Within moments, he demolished it, then got started on a second. By the time that was finished, Reed had still not arrived. Connor hesitated, but then he shrugged and reached for a third slice. He didn’t care. His appetite was out of control and it wasn’t like he was trying to watch his figure.

As Connor chomped on the pizza, he glanced around the office. He noticed a photo of a man on the desk. Though attractive, he was very small and frail-looking. Standing on a beach, he grinned at the camera, wearing a pair of trunks that were practically falling off his bony hips. That must have been Reed’s spouse.

“Sorry about that,” said Reed, as she walked in. She leaned against the desk beside him and reached for a slice. As they ate, the two engaged in idle chatter about ongoing projects (not including the one he was unwillingly cultivated in his belly). The conversation was awkward at times, Connor’s frustration still obvious, but he could feel himself slowly uncoiling. He could only hold his hostility for so long before it became draining. He had so much on his plate as it was. It was better to just play nice, and get Reed back later, when Connor was more capable of it. As he ate, some sauce dripped onto his plump, sweaty cleavage. Reed reached out as though to wipe it off, but then stopped herself, looking embarrassed. Connor grabbed some napkins and wiped it away.

After Connor finished his fourth slice, he noticed Reed was still working on her first. Reed noticed his hesitation. She motioned to the box. “Help yourself. There’s plenty more.”

Connor went for it. He might as well.

In the meantime, Reed got Connor’s chair for him, feeling guilty that Connor couldn’t sit down, given his condition. Connor appreciated it, but once he sat, he immediately knew that he would be disinclined to getting back up any time soon. As his belly sank down on his lap, his breasts were heaved higher, and pushed towards his chin. It made eating more awkward, but Connor made it work. Reed passed him a fifth slice.

The two discussed an amphibian project both were working on, Connor barely noticing as he went through yet another slice as Reed attentively watched him eat. As Connor finished his sixth, he realized how late it was getting. “I should go,” he said, interrupting Reed, who was just discussing the slime samples she had gotten off the rare dessert frogs they were studying. Connor swallowed his last bite, only then realizing how full he felt. But as Reed opened the next box, the aroma of hot chicken and ricotta pizza overcame his, causing his stomach of ache and grumble as he stared at it in surprise. He rubbed his hand against the bloated flesh.

“Stay.” Reed offered him another slice. “One more.”

That evening, Connor finished off the remaining two boxes.

<b>11 Weeks</b>

Reed took to bringing him beverages throughout the day. He never knew what it would be. There were thick, chocolatey, buttery milkshakes topped with rich whipped cream. Other times she brought him protein drinks, or sweet juices. Connor couldn’t help guzzling it all down as it was provided. The sheer sight of food caused him to break out into a sweat lately. Reed ensured that he was pumped with calories around the clock.

In the past week, Connor had experienced ¾ inches of growth. That was a ¼ inch increase above what had become his norm. Though it seemed a negligible amount, Connor couldn’t help being concerned. He had learned early on that every fraction of an inch counted, especially considering how all the growth seemed to cumulate with the passage of time.

He wondered if it had something to do with all the night-time eating. For the past six nights, Connor had somehow ended up staying up late with Reed, discussing ongoing projects over take-out. The latest had been Chinese, a vast variety, more containers of it than he could even count. As Reed modestly snacked on a pint of chicken and broccoli, Connor had lost track of how many grease-dripping containers he had worked his way through.

Perched in his living quarters one morning, his legs spread wide yet still squashed beneath his massive belly, Connor examined the measly container of attire one of the other interns had brought for him. It was as though they hadn’t even tried.

He struggled into a DDD-cup bra, but it proved exceedingly tight, his breasts bulging against it from all corners. He struggled to get it off, but it quickly tore and burst open in the front, leaving him gasping and relieved. Connor massaged his sore breasts, but this only proved to stimulate them. His shoulders twisting, he released a grunt as the mounds tightened and both nipples distended before spurting twin streams of milk. Panting, Connor waited for the flow to subside. He dabbed at his chest with a towel.

The next impractical piece of attire was a pair of shorts. Connor glared at it, and quietly cursed under his breath. After several attempts, he somehow managed to navigate his feet through the openings despite not being able to see much of his legs, then he fidgeted and fumbled to ease the shorts up his plump ass. At one point, he had to shift his weight forward, against his belly, and nearly toppled over. Somehow he maintained his balance, though he wasn’t too concerned about the fetus. As he understood, it was more durable than he was.

The shorts went down past his knees, but couldn’t seem to entirely cover his plump ass. It felt like his crack was close to bulging out of it.

Huffing in irritation, Connor proceeded to the shirt that looked measly compared to his mass. Mumbling a few more obscenities, he tugged it over his head, and got it pulled down as far as covering his breasts. It served as little more than a belly shirt.

Connor breathed heavily when he was finished. At least he had been granted some vague amount of modesty. He absently rubbed his hands over what he could reach of his belly, his mind drifting to worries he usually fought hard to suppress. What would happen if the thing started moving? What would he do if his belly got too big for him to move?

There was a knock on the door. “Ready, Connor?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he responded. He resented that he was still being forced to participate in work. Though, admittedly, it was the only thing that kept him sane.

Two interns walked in and flanked him, both leaning down to wrap one of their arms around his back, while placing their opposite hands beneath his belly.

“On three,” said Chris. “Ready?” They gently rocked his with each count. “One, two-”

And suddenly he was back on his feet.

<b>12 Weeks</b>

Connor hated staff meetings, but he played his part.

“I think in order to stabilize the sample, we need to reintroduce the radioactive…” He trailed off as he noticed the others were staring at him. “What is it?” he said.

“It’s just that you’re…dripping on the file,” said James.

Connor looked down to notice his shirt was soaked through, his round breasts drooping just slightly where they were perched atop his belly. Milk seeped and splattered onto the folder he was clutching in his hands.

Connor impatiently slapped the file onto the table. “Well what do you expect me to do, James?” he snapped. He impatiently grabbed a wad of tissues out of a box sitting on the meeting table and unthinkingly dabbed at his breasts, before pausing, his face reddening. He took a few deep breaths. “On second thought, I think I’m going to have to excuse myself.” He pushed back his chair. “Can I have some hel-ahhhh…” he groaned, lifting his hands, but stopping himself short of making contact with his breasts.

His shoulders tensing, Connor grunted in discomfort as his breasts tightened, the milk going from a drip to a pour. His areola puffed up like small rounded cupolas as his nipples distended, before the milk flow turned to a spray, breasts continuing to swell round, and bulging against the neckline of his stretched top. Connor fell into panting. All this lactation was getting out of control. His face flushed, he looked around at the other scientists, who had dropped all that they had been working on to closely observe him, some taking notes.

“A little h-help here,” Connor repeated impatiently.

Reed stood and hurried over. It took some effort, but she helped him to stand. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the meeting room. With his free hand, Connor held the side of his belly.

“I’m fine now,” he said to Reed once they had left the room.

“You’re getting milk all over the floor. I don’t want you to slip,” Reed responded as they walked in the direction of the bathroom.

His belly was massive, and heavy. He could only stand for increasingly short periods of time. The mass had long passed the beach ball stage, and was slowly approaching a boulder in size. His lactating breasts were the least of Connor’s worries. He had experienced another ¾ inches of belly growth over the past week.

Reed took him all the way into the restroom, and soon Connor was sitting on a toilet, trying to gather his bearings. He didn’t even have to use the toilet. He just sat there, breathing, shorts and all.

Connor found that he lost his breath quite easily, and this was a prime example. Finally giving in to his temptations, Connor pulled up his shirt and grabbed his breasts, allowing his milk to splash into his palms. His body shuddering, he massaged the mounds, not caring as the pressure increased, and they tightened in his hands. He didn’t even care that Reed stood by, watching the whole thing.

“Ohhh…mmmmmph…” Connor moaned, as the mounds rose like heating dough. Eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks grew redder, his nipples aching and spraying against Reed’s lab coat. “Nnnghhhh…yesss…ahhhhhh,” he groaned, throwing his head back. His belly rocked and breasts bounced with his heavy breathing. Before he could stop it, he came in his pants.

When it was over, and Connor had regained control over himself, he dropped his arms and let his head fall to one side as he tried to catch his breath. He glanced up at Reed to see that she was still silently observing.

He rolled his eyes. “Gotta take what you can get,” he said wearily.

Reed’s face remained impassive. “Indeed.”

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