Campus, Part 6 (Patreon)

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Summary: When Sam leaves home for the first time and starts college, she immediately notices that her campus has a shockingly high fertility rate, among other things. Women walk around with swollen bellies and heavy multiples-pregnancies. Some just tout along fat bellies with no children contained inside of them as they stuff themselves relentlessly with food. Some women have monstrously massive breasts, or hugely swollen asses. And the men all seem to be hung like bulls. When Sam finds herself starting to put on weight herself, she tries to escape the campus, but all her efforts seem to just lead her in circles. In the meantime, she swells. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, pregnancy, weight gain, birth.

Previous Chapter

-

Sam awoke several times throughout the night, panting and sweating and fumbling beneath her mass. None of this was right. She had to go. She wanted to escape the campus and her condition, but the concept of getting up wasn’t even vaguely practical at that point.

The urge to push was still uncomfortably present, and exacerbating with the passing minutes, her hips aching, thighs twitching as she fought against it. She could hardly even move anymore. She was a prisoner in her own body.

Sam was sprawled back on her too-conveniently massive bed, her body practically crushed beneath her bolder of a belly. She would shift constantly, often laying on her side so her belly was perched beside her, tight and throbbing. Her massive breast were shelved atop it, mounds resembling basketballs in size, her stinging nipples sticking out like coke caps, areola puffy and outlined against her top like the rest of her flesh.

Her t-shirt—more aptly a belly shirt at that point—could barely contain her breasts, a large chunk of flesh pushing out beneath the strained hem. Despite the paltry coverage, it hardly served any purpose, as the taut material was so soaked with her sweat that it was rendered transparent.

Below, Sam was wearing an oversized pair of sports shorts she had picked up at the campus shop, but with the recent growths of her posterior, it was stretching and straining to contain her, and rendered so small, it might as well been lingerie, with the way her ass cheeks were bulging out at the bottom.

She was simply massive. Her feeble body quavered under the strain of all the swelling it had endured.

Yet it still wasn’t over. Sam could feel her mass tightening, throbbing, inching forward. She was breathless and exhausted, feeling as though she was in a constant state of cardio, just with the effort of existing as she was at present, as the bizarre caricature she had become.

She had to escape.

Sam didn’t know how, but with time and effort, she somehow maneuvered herself upright, swinging her belly down against her softened thighs which were rapidly going numb beneath the weight of it.

She shifted her small, dainty feet to the floor, and began to carefully inch herself forward, gasping and sweating all the while. The pressure was unbearable. She felt as though she was going to lose control. She clutched hard at the underside of her belly, while her other hand pressed against the mattress behind her, helping her to maintain balance.

Sam rocked gently, her face flushed bright red from the effort of it all. With each rock, she tilted herself slightly farther, until she gained some momentum, and with a strangled groan, managed to heave herself onto her feet.

She was amazed that she got herself standing on the first try, and almost laughed, until her eyes widened, and her ability to balance herself failed, as did her knees’ ability to support her full weight.

She was going down, sinking. She managed to ease down against the carpeted floor without too harsh of an impact. She groaned, and fumbled to shift her legs into a more comfortable position, as her belly pressed hard down on them, and the ground.

“Ohhh…” she grunted, as the pressure shot downwards, hips shuddering as her ass wobbled. Her loins bulged so forcefully she yelped.

She wasn’t imagining it. Something was happening. Something large and heavy was squeezing, shifting between her hips, through her pelvis, and farther. She moaned.

“F-fuuuckk…” She couldn’t imagine how something so large could possibly fit through her. In fact she didn’t want to find out.

Her thighs spread almost by instinct, but she shuddered them closed again.

There was a light knock on the door. “Sam are you okay in ther—oh.” Patty had let herself in, and to Sam’s astonishment, she was accompanied by a male student in a football jersey. Sam briefly wondered if that was Patty’s boyfriend.

But another girl came in—a friend of Patty’s?—and another, until people were filtering in one after the other. Students. Teachers. Sam arched and cried, her belly heaving so powerfully she felt like it would burst away from her.

She came to the vague awareness that she had a full audience, everyone standing around, marveling at her, with looks of pure euphoria on their faces. Those faces were shadowed by the night, and seemed to fill every corner of the room. It was eerie, and Sam wanted more than ever to be anywhere but there.

She was spreading her legs again, as much as she could, despite herself. Her breasts had popped entirely out of her top. Her flushed, throbbing, bloated body was on full display. She felt like a prized pig awaiting slaughter as she moaned and struggled and they watched in silence. She was only on the cusp of pain, but the awkward discomfort was the worst thing ever. Like a scratch she couldn’t itch. Like a thousand scratches. But she couldn’t bring herself to push.

There was a sharp spike of pressure that felt like being punched in the gut, and something jammed downwards, causing Sam to wail. She collapsed harshly on her back, watching her belly bob up and down as she struggled to breathe.

Her nipples squirted streams of milk that sprayed through the air. She moaned and whined, clutching at herself. “I can’t…I can’t…” she groaned, face contorted, vision blurred. She though she saw the boy who had warned her. But equally, she could have been imagining it.

“Can’t…” she whined, repeating the word like a mantra. Despite her, a force was shoving through her, as she shuddered, and clutched it in as much as she could. It was so big, so overwhelming. But she had to hold it in.

-

In a well-lit, windowless, medical facility, several people in hazmat suits stood around Samantha Maple’s unconscious form, as the young woman groaned and twitched in her sleep. She wore some sort of silvery headset with a tangle of wires running through it.

“The host is going into labor,” one of the scientists observed.

“I’m not surprised,” responded another. “She has been pushed to her limits.” He raised a wand-like medical device with a flat end and gently prodded it against Sam’s massive, heaving stomach.

People buzzed around Sam’s form, taking her vitals, administering medications through her IV line, or simply poking and prodding at her fecund body, her juices seeping, milk squirting, all while she continued to grimace and fidget in her sleep.

Sam’s belly gave forceful jerks. It was flushed from the pressure, and developing the faint outlines of veins even at that moment, as it pushed forward and swelled with subtle vibrations of growth. It was growing larger than the king-sized bed could handle.

The medical staff had thus far managed to manipulate the host into holding the spawn in. They had found that the most effective way to control one’s body was a combination of drugs and psychological persuasion. The two methods worked quite impressively in conjunction.

“It is finally time,” said one of the doctors once it was confirmed that the host indeed, was, in labor.

There was a general murmur of agreement amongst the group.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” one said, prompting an awkward, loaded silence.

“John—” another responded.

But John continued, “She is our best subject yet. The litter is strong and healthy. And could do with a little more growth. Humans have such short incubation periods, however I think we could push her another week.”

“Her body surely cannot endure—”

“Let’s get her to the gel tank. Yes, that’s it.”

The group, as a collective, arduously rolled Sam’s bed to another section of the expansive facility, this one set up with what appeared to be a large, deep hot tub built into the floor. It was filled not with water, but a still, thick, translucent, purple substance, reminiscent of gelatin.

“Now lower her…easy…” John guided the rest as he dialed buttons on the bed’s remote, the other scientists gripping onto Sam the best they could.

The mechanical bed gently lowered and tilted, effectively sliding Sam’s body downwards, so that she plopped into the gel with a queasy “gloop” noise.

Sam sunk and was submerged, down to her neck. She remained unconscious, her face still twisted in discomfort, shoulders still periodically tensing.

John took a new remote, and the hot-tub lifted, elevating with a hum. It came above ground, and soon resembled a tank, with glass sides so that everyone could see what was happening within.

Sam’s body looked even more massive in the translucent fluid. She was suspended slightly, the substance offering support where sheer gravity did not.

“This should sustain her for a while longer. Soften the skin, ease the weight of the spawn,” John noted, continuing to thoughtfully examine Samantha’s form. “Increase the delaying drugs. I know we’re pushing past the safe zone, but we still may be able to disrupt this labor.”

“She will birth the absolution,” said one man monotonously. “But she is not ready yet.” Then he shuffled off to get to work.

“Indeed,” said John, continuing to observe Sam through the tank’s rounded glass walls. “Shall we change the scenario?” He motioned to Sam’s headset, then turned to a woman who was typing away at a computer console across the room. “Have the boy come back. The one who warned her. Have him burst into the room, and tell her to hold it in no matter what.”

“Yes, sir.” And the woman began to type faster.

“Somehow they manage to get her into a wheelchair. Have them escape somehow—to the math building basements. Maybe he’s digging a tunnel? Have fun with it. Could you imaging her trying to crawl?”

“Wonderfully ludicrous, sir.” And the woman continued to type away, Sam’s headset beeping gently.

“To our absolution.”

“To absolution.”

And John walked over to another device, as various personnel tinkered with computers and equipment around the room. Sam continued to squirm in her sleep, hips twitching, belly jerking, ass bobbing, and breasts seeping. She had no idea she was in a stimulation. In fact, she had no idea how special she was. Sam was the key, the path to absolution. Everyone else was simply orbiting around her.

The End