Farm Boy, Part 15 (Patreon)

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Summary: A high school senior, Max noticed that his older brother has been dipping into the chemical on his parents' farm, and has been gaining a lot of weight. A bit disgusted, a bit curious, Max tries the chemical hormones himself, and experiences the best high of his life. He quickly introduces the chemical to his two best friends, and the three progressively get addicted, all while experiencing incidental changes, such as butt growth, breast development, belly expansion, in addition to other, stranger, things. Contains: Male: pregnancy, breast expansion, multiple breasts, breast-belly, butt expansion, weight gain, and more. Also, issues of drug addiction.

Previous Chapter

-

Max was horny, like, really horny. He seemed to have a chronic need for Roger to be sucking his tits or pounding him, and Roger was all too eager to please. They were fucking more than ever before. On top of that, Max’s appetite had continued to surge. He was eating constantly, and mainly junk food. Roger was amused, and Max’s steady weight gain only seemed to feed into the weird dirty talk. Talk of knocking Max up, getting him plump with babies. Lately those fantasies were more unnerving than arousing to Max, and even made him a little bit queasy.

Max’s tits were blowing up. They seemed to be engorged no matter how much he pumped, and at times, would just start squirting randomly—like, while he was reading a book or something. It would happen unexpectedly, and he would go red and hastily fumble for his pumps.

Max was hot all the time. Not just his tits, but his body as a whole. Roger just brushed off the changes—Max’s pigging out, squirting tits, bulging gut, and his ceaseless need to have Roger’s dick in him. Roger didn’t even seem to register any of it as odd. After all, Max was constantly changing, constantly growing.

And Max was terrified. His stomach was still getting…larger, and felt oddly firm rather than fat. He could see the growth in his full-length mirror, and his hundreds of followers were quick to point it out every time he did a livestream. Finally, he caved, and ordered a few of those home pregnancy tests from an online store. It took only a few days for them to arrive in the mail. Max pissed on every one, then just waited with his face in his hands, moaning indecipherably, and cursing. His four nipples gushed profusely, tits throbbing, strangely keen.

It probably took an hour for Max to peel his hands away from his hands. He lifted each of the tests in turn, hands shaking as he read the results.

Positive.

Positive.

Positive.

“No, no, no,” Max moaned, grunting as his tits began to positively spray, making a mess in the bathroom. He thought of Scott. Thought of the burden. Max thought of himself, huge and flushed, body arched, stretching, belly quavering, tits leaking. He imagine his belly wider than the rest of him, like a bolder, pushing out several feet as he tried to balance the mass of it. His tits would be stacked atop it, nipples fat like marbles, squirting. His dick hard, jammed up against the huge belly mound, as his body swelled and strained. He thought of how Roger would look at him, eyes hungry.

Max groaned as his tits quirted yet more. He arched, desperately wanting to release the burden, but he seemed to produce milk faster than he could release it these days. He was continuously engorged and only swelling.
God, this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. Max refused to acknowledge it as real. He couldn’t undergo such a drastic transformation on top of all the breast growth he was already dealing with. He couldn’t deal with babies.

The tests are wrong, Max decided.

This couldn’t be happening.

And so it wasn’t happening.

-

Max was getting chubby.

He looked good though. Roger admired the sight of the other teen lounged on the couch of the apartment, watching TV while stuffing chips into his mouth. The tight, worn tank top Max had on showed off generous cleavage, his four seeping tits, large nipples bulging in the wet material, and the swell of a gut he had started to grow in recent weeks.

Sloppy as Max looked, Roger couldn’t help wanting him even then. He was hungry for Max’s milk. Practically addicted to it. He could hardly even control himself around Max. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Max’s tits, drinking them, and not stopping. Filling his stomach. Drowning in Max’s milk. “This is toxic,” Roger muttered.

Max looked up from his show. “What?” he said, voice muffled from his full mouth.

Roger looked down to regard himself. Patted the softness of his own gut. “This is unhealthy. You’re making me unhealthy.”

Max swallowed the food in his mouth, then scowled. “Seriously?” he said.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

"So when it’s me fattening up, its sexy, but when you gain a few pounds, it’s a huge problem.
"It’s different." Roger didn’t have a condition. And he was on a sports scholarship.
“No it isn't,” said Max.

“I want to break up,” Roger said, though he wasn’t even certain they had been dating.

Max looked similarly confused, then irritated. His eyes gleamed just for a moment, but then he blinked, and any hint of sadness was gone. “After what you did to me?”

“I didn’t—” Roger stammered. “You grow, you leak, you grow some more. This was happening well before me, and you haven’t exactly been complaining.”

Max’s eyes fluttered and face reddened, his hands going up to cradle the four huge tits on his chest. Roger watched them bob gently, a bit hypnotized. He watched the four nipples swell and distend, pushing harder into Max’s shirt as Max released a small grunt.

Roger was hard. “We’re bad for each other,” he managed.

“Fine,” Max hissed, his voice sounding pained or pleasured, eyes squeezed shut. “Whatever. It was fun, I guess.” He arched and whimpered. One of his hands slid to his plump stomach.

“Yeah,” said Roger weakly, unable to move an inch. And so he stood there, indulgently staring, through Max’s slow process of coaxing his body to calm down. Eventually Max was glaring back up to him. Roger felt himself approach and leaned down. Max’s eyes fluttered down in anticipation.

Roger pressed their lips together in a soft kiss. With that, he pulled away, grabbed his jacket, and left.

-

Rather than panicking, Max just went numb.

His schoolwork took a hit, his assignments low quality or just getting in late, but Max could hardly bring himself to care anymore.

He also got a lot worse about being discreet, and found himself paying the price almost immediately.

Late one evening he left his apartment just to make a quick stop at the 24/7 grocery store around the corner. He threw a baggy jacket around his shoulders, only to realize it wasn’t too baggy on him lately. But Max was so jaded, he just went about the errand. It was almost 1AM, after all. “Can I pay by card?” Max said as he arrived at a register with his basket of unhealthy snacks almost spilling over. That’s when someone grabbed his shoulder.

“You’re him!” said an unfamiliar voice.

Max turned around to see a thin, middle-aged man with wide, almost crazed, eyes, and he was staring at Max’s chest. Max’s face heated.

“Sorry?” he said.

“Double-boobs. ­­­Matt from VidSwoop. I would recognize your voice anywhere. And—and your lips. And, oh god.” The stranger’s eyes were pinned to Max’s chest. There was a prominent curve under the jacket. Not defined, but clearly the man knew what was beneath. “I have to see them. Please let me see them.”

Max’s heart was racing. “Sorry, I think you’re confusing me with someone else,” he said, trying to control the situation as the cashier looked on in confusion. The store seemed mostly empty, just the three of them, and another patron or two wandering the aisles. Max felt frozen in panic. This was unprecedented. No one had ever blatantly recognized him before.

Then the stranger grabbed him. Grabbed Max’s tits though his jacket, causing Max to release a gasp. Milk gushed as the stranger squeezed the tender mounds.

“So soft,” he moaned as Max grunted and reddened. “You haven’t posted in a while, but fuck, they’re bigger. Oh god, how—how’s the baby? You’re getting so big all over.”

Max shoved the man off him and fled, allowing his grocery basket to crash to the ground. He didn’t stop running until he was back in his apartment building, by which point his jacket was soaked, his stomach was aching, and he felt like he might throw up. He folded his arms over his gut, willing it to settle down.

He felt hot and dizzy as he steadily made his way up to his apartment. He dragged himself inside and locked the door.

When he got to his room, Max sunk down against his mattress, stared at the ceiling, and focused on catching his breath.

-

Maybe Roger had left at precisely the right time, because Max’s belly was beginning to blow up.

It didn’t take long until it had grown into a respectable bump. It had come out of nowhere. It seemed too soon for him to be this far along. He cupped the mound uneasily.

“Um, Max?” called Paige’s voice behind him, causing Max to go rigid. “What’s going on?”
Max folded his arms over his waist, though he suspected it did little to hide the mound these days. “Nothing,” he said, cheeks warm as he walked out of the kitchen and locked himself up in his room, where he seemed to be spending most of his time.
He still couldn’t believe how much he was growing.

Some mornings he would wake up and swear he’d had centimeters of growth since the night before. The inches were sneaking up on him. He needed a tape measure to prove that something weird and sinister was underway. There was constant pressure, his clothes beginning to strain at the waist, buttons pulling apart to make way for his swelling body. One evening, he felt so uncomfortable, he had to just sit down. He twisted his lips and cupped his navel, fidgeting slightly. He felt like…oh…it felt like…

Max yelped as something popped. He half-laughed, half-sobbed when he realized what had occurred, drawing up his shirt with shaking hands to stare down at his now-outward protruding belly button. “God,” he muttered.

He felt so full, and all the time. It was a different pressure than the sensation of the milk. His was harder, heavier, unyielding, and terrifying. Was this what Scott had to deal with? The sensations of discomfort, but also…arousal, at times. Max just panicked internally, still vaguely in denial. He didn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do? Talk to someone? He didn’t think he could face it.

Instead, Max got increasingly reclusive. He ordered all his meals in, his diet becoming 100% takeout. He stopped doing his online videos, but he had enough money saved up to get by for the time being. When Paige saw him, she would give him odd looks. Maybe she thought he was becoming like Adam.

Max huffed a laugh. No, this was certainly worse.

-

Max was sprawled back on some pillows one day, getting ready for another of his video game binges. He reached for his controller, and found himself grunting, truly struggling, then just slumping back, gasping a bit, his hand still controller-less.

He came to realize how inflexible he had gotten lately. How heavy and awkward, and just generally burdened. How big.

Max regarded himself. His four breasts were flushed, swollen, and unattended. They were burning hot and felt as though they were pulsing, four nipples stinging, and seeping, and just unnaturally large. The mounds had surged up a couple of cup sizes, but he must have stopped caring, except when the tenderness and achiness kept him from getting sleep.

His belly was huge. Fuck, he looked really pregnant. His shorts were shoved low by the swell, his straining shirt only pulling down halfway over the mass. He hadn’t bothered with bigger clothes. He just outgrew the things he had. He could have been at term, at the size he was. But he didn’t like to think about it.

With some struggle, Max heaved himself up from the bed, grimacing as he was reacquainted with the slight waddle he had developed recently. He made his way to the kitchen where Paige was eating a lunch of leftover Chinese takeout. She lowered her fork and looked up from her phone. Her tongue dipped out of her mouth and dragged over her bottom lip.
He stood there in mortification as her eyes roved up and down his body.

Her brows rose. “Heh. Do you want to talk about it?” Paige looked vaguely amused and a little sadistic.

“Um, no,” said Max. Yet he continued to stand there. He leaned on the counter and frowned down at his body.

“I can call Roger,” Paige offered.

“No. This—it’s under control.”

“Um, are you…?”

“I’m pregnant,” said Max snappishly, voicing it aloud for the first time. He rubbed his face.

“Congrats?”

Max’s moved his hands to massage the sides of his belly without really registering it. “Right,” he said, still red with embarrassment. “Fuck.” What had he done?

Hadn’t this been the fantasy? Yet there was something decidedly less erotic about living it, dealing with the fact that he was going to have an actual baby, by himself, with no plan. He didn’t even know how he was going to get this thing out of him. He should have called Scott but he was still paralyzed by fear.

“Max, it’s okay,” Paige said, being uniquely kind.

Max wasn’t sure why, but it helped a little.

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