Intern, Part 6 (Patreon)

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Summary: Jim hooks up with one of the male interns. Not that the intern remembers. Both were pretty drunk that night. And whenever Jim has sex with someone, he always gets them pregnant, often with multiples—rare though male pregnancy may be. Jim knows that he should probably come clean, but he’d much rather watch his young intern rapidly “bloom” while struggling with his increasing job duties and figuring out what is  going on with his body. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, and possibly more.

Previous Chapter

-

It was the first time Jim had hooked up with someone he had already knocked up and it was ludicrously amazing. It was almost too much. He watched Ryan’s belly heave, so plump, so perfect. Jim imagined he was fucking more babies into the kid. Ryan was flushed, sweaty, and absolutely gorgeous. Jim’s mouth moved down to Ryan’s swollen pink nipples, nipping, sucking. Ryan threw his head back and groaned.

Drunk on arousal, Jim somehow dragged Ryan back to his hotel. Ryan put up no fight. His hormones were out of control. They went a second round, and it was easily as good, if not better, than the first. When they finished, Jim was too spent to do more than pass out on Ryan’s little tits, reliving the past hour again and again, then in his dreams, as Ryan’s chest rose and fell methodically beneath him.

The morning was awkward.

When Jim awoke, Ryan was already up, and struggling with—with his clothes. And it was clear why. Ryan simply couldn’t fit back into them, the trousers button undone and zipper pushed low. Ryan had grown. He was puffy all over and looked blatantly pregnant. Even his chest had swelled, now adorning soft mounds to finally accompany the pointy nipples, and Jim couldn’t help thinking, That’s my fault.

“Fuck,” Ryan breathed, appraising himself in anguish.

Jim got up and went to the closet. He pulled out one of his plain T-shirts and threw it in Ryan’s direction.

Ryan caught it, and frowned down at the white cotton. He sighed before he pulled it on, and the sight of Jim’s shirt stretching over Ryan’s transforming body was a lot. Jim felt his dick twitch and belatedly remembered his nudity.

“At least it, erm, fits,” said Jim, grabbing some boxers and dragging them on.

“God, what did I do,” Ryan muttered, again fumbling with his trousers button, but it was pointless. He was just too round, too plump. God, he could have passed as someone five months pregnant. Reese had really done a number on him the night before. Everyone at the office would know now if they didn’t already. An intern was pregnant. A male one, at that.

“I’m a freak,” Ryan went on, more to himself than to Jim. “This shit is supposed to be really rare. Ridiculously rare. Like one in a million.”

“Actually one in seven million,” Jim said before he could stop himself.

Ryan’s head snapped in Jim’s direction. “Why does it have to be me? Why am I getting so big? How am I—fuck, I’m not gonna get hired looking like this. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ryan breathed, giving up on his trousers, dropping his hands. He looked desperate and a little crazed when he met Jim’s eyes again. “This can never happen again. We can’t—no one can know.”

“Yes,” said Jim simply. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“No,” said Ryan. “I’m a man. Just because I’m like this doesn’t mean I should be treated any differently.” Ryan looked out the window, at the clear view of the club, which looked old and dusty from this angle. “Heh. I’m a phone call away from ending up working at a place like that.”

“You would be the star,” said Jim, his mouth running, brain refusing to intervene. “Everyone would be vying to be as perfect as you are.”

Ryan’s face flushed. “You mean as fat?” he swallowed. “I’m—really big for my stage.”

Jim said nothing, just let him process.

“I think there’s…” Ryan stopped. Pressed his lips. Like he didn’t want to say it aloud, didn’t want to even entertain the prospect. “People are starting to notice. At the office. And my parents. Oh god, this is humiliating.”

“You’re perfect,” said Jim.

“You’re just into this kinda thing.”

“Smith, you’re perfect.”

-

In the days that followed, Jim wondered whether Ryan had seen a doctor yet, but then he doubted that Ryan had the funds or the insurance coverage. It was more likely that Ryan was just holding off on prenatal care and wondering why he was showing already. It was still so early and Ryan looked terrified. Of course, male pregnancy had that effect on young men.

Jim noticed that Ryan was less reluctant about eating these days. Maybe Reese’s lecture had gotten to him. Jim could tell that Ryan was always hungry. Once, during a meeting, Ryan’s stomach had started grumbling embarrassingly.

And everyone at the office was whispering. About Ryan’s shrinking wardrobe. About how fat he was getting. About the tits he had growing on his chest, starting to stretch out his shirts.

“How humiliating,” they would say.

“It’s like watching a train wreck.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“Why would he accept an internship in his condition?”

The prized intern was blowing up.

The other interns seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief. They no longer saw Ryan as competition.

Ryan was struggling to keep up with them. Even tasks like picking up dry-cleaning or coffees were starting to take longer. Ryan was less fast, less efficient. He was no longer the first choice for client meetings, and when he did attend them, the clients would always do a double-take at seeing him, eyes pinned to Ryan’s torso. The pregnancy was proving to be a distraction. People just weren’t taking Ryan seriously.

Jim knew that Ryan’s days with the company were numbered. He could see how the other executives would look at Ryan and frown as they deliberated the most strategic way to let him go.

-

The two were in Jim’s office late one evening. Ryan had begun to increasingly stay after hours to make up for his slowdown. And lately, Jim always found excuses to linger as well.

Jim liked to order food. Junk which he claimed to be “dinner.” Tonight Jim had three extra-large extra-cheese pizzas on hand even though it was just the two of them.

Ryan no longer even hesitated to dig in. He was getting accustomed to Jim’s shenanigans and hardly seemed to notice the way he mechanically lifted slices to his mouth as he pored over the files on Jim’s desk. After the fifth slice he had shoved in and gulped down, he groaned and rubbed his flank. “God, I’m blowing up.”

Ryan had no idea what he was in for.

The intern rarely talked about, or even acknowledged, his condition around the office. Jim was happy to be a confidant, or sorts. Reluctant as Ryan was about it.

Ryan shrugged off his blazer. It was too small, but he wore it religiously at work, probably trying to tone down the sharp jut of his gut. Now it was clear that Ryan had been sweating beneath it. Jim swallowed as he took in the dampened spots on Ryan’s custom-tailored button-down, and how the material hugged against the curves beneath it. Ryan looked so good, so edible. His tits had to be full Bs now, just stuffed in there with no bra, like Ryan couldn’t be bothered to deal with them. Ryan swiped some sweat off his brow. He was flushed, weary, and fidgeting slightly. Jim watched him tug at his shirt.

“You should eat,” said Jim arbitrarily. It was almost a taunt. He liked watching Ryan eat; feeding them, making them grow.

Ryan shot him a glare. “What do you think I’ve been doing—constantly. I can’t stop eating. Half the time, I feel like I’m starving. Eating for two—feels more like I’m eating for a high school football team.”

That did it. Jim’s hand reached out to cup the mound. It felt full, heavy. Ryan stared at him, but he let it happen. Let Jim’s hand slide down.

And suddenly they were all over each other even though they had sworn not to do this again. Jim couldn’t stop touching Ryan’s smooth skin; his belly full of babies. The babies filling him, stretching him. The babies Jim had put there; fucked right into him; filled him up with. And Ryan still had no idea.

Jim sucked Ryan’s tits as much as he could, even when Ryan tried to direct his attentions elsewhere. But Jim loved the taste of them. He loved when Ryan unconsciously arched, pushing his chest harder against Jim’s lips. Jim wanted to make them full and fat. Wanted to suck them until they dripped.

And like that, Jim was smitten. He was beyond obsessed. After it was over, he couldn’t help feeling a strange fondness for the blushing kid as he got dressed, grimaced, and hurried out of the office.

More than anything else, Jim wanted to see him grow. He needed to see every moment of his struggle to contain them, and when that failed, his efforts to maintain dignity as he worked and inflated.

-

“I think it’s time to let Smith go,” said Corbin after a meeting. He rested his elbows against the large mahogany table they were seated around. “His condition is getting too obvious. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. What the hell was he thinking?”

“Probably wasn’t thinking,” Francene snorted. “The gene is rare. Probably didn’t know he had it. Smith wasn’t even out. Was engaged to that finance girl,” she said, causing several others to grin or snort at the hot gossip.

“Way to tank his career.”

“He’s starting to look like a blimp.”

“And those things on his chest? Disgusting.”

“Smith is essential,” said Jim.

The room fell silence, all eyes swiveling to Jim, who hadn’t bothered to look up from the paperwork he was reading.

“You’re kidding, right?” said Paul finally.

Veronica adjusted her eyeglasses, her lip twitching.

“Smith is still bringing in more clients than the other interns. He works closely with my team, and I need him right now. I am opposed to his firing,” said Jim indifferently.

There was another pause.

“Right then,” said Corbin.

“We’ll let you have this one, Jim.”

“Don’t complain to us when he pops.”

“And tell him to stop flaunting that thing.”

Francene giggled. “What do you expect him to do with it?”

“Geez, I don’t know. It just doesn’t look right.”

“Let’s try not to get sued, men,” Paul chuckled.

Jim just flipped a page and shook his head.

-

“I heard what you did,” said Ryan one afternoon a few days later, when it was just the two of them in Jim’s office. He wore a stubborn blush and looked oh so delicious. “You didn’t have to, but—thank you. For giving me a chance.”

“Of course,” said Jim.

Ryan hesitated, then hugged him. Actually hugged him. The round mound pressed between them, and was that movement?

Ryan abruptly jerked back, looking mortified. “God,” he muttered, frowning down at himself, hands running along the swell. “I’m only four months. Look how huge I am.”

Four months? Jim supposed that was true. Ryan looked like he could have been six months, maybe even farther.

“Don’t tell them,” said Ryan quickly, meeting Jim’s eyes with his own panicked ones. “The other executives.” He folded his arms over his abdomen, looking somewhere between protective and ashamed.

“Of course not,” said Jim.

Ryan nodded, a frown still tugging at his lips. But he forced a brief smile, turned, and left.

-

Jim didn’t know why, but he found particular pleasure in the struggle. He started loading Ryan up with extra work, pushing past the guilt, because it was weirdly enjoyable to watch Ryan trying to juggle it all. There were few moments at the office where Ryan wasn’t flustered, weary, and clutching piles of papers. Between trying to keep up with work and be discreet about his pregnancy, Ryan’s collected demeanor was falling apart.

Of the things that had to be neglected, his wardrobe was one of them. His shirts strained against him blatantly, diamonds of skin pushing out between buttons. His tits were getting fatter, stretching out the top of his shirt. He sat with care as though concerned of bursting right out of his clothes, and looked generally uncomfortable in the stiff, unyielding attire.

At a certain point, he seemed to have given up. Everyone knew. Everyone pointed and whispered. The other interns avoided him, as though they thought Ryan to be contagious. Which left Ryan more stressed out than ever, between the workload, the ostracization, the atmosphere of contempt, and his own growing body.

One day, Ryan got caught in the rain while picking up a coffee order, and it was almost too perfect. His shirt was practically glued to his skin, turned transparent in its saturation. Everyone could make out every curve of Ryan’s form, his bulging belly button, his fat tits, and his distended pink nipples. They protruded large, hard, and generously swollen. True nursing teats on Ryan’s steadily growing Cs. The sight of the intern was practically obscene. Ryan made a hasty excuse to leave, but Jim put a stop to it immediately.

“I need you here, Smith. Today’s my meeting with Perkins. That file has to be perfect.”

Ryan was cowed, as he usually was when his career was hung over him like a treat. For the rest of the afternoon, he had to endure the sight of people gawking or choking whenever they saw him. Jim had Ryan personally meet with Perkins, who looked aghast at seeing him. Funnily enough, the deal went smoothly. Jim just sat back and enjoyed the view.

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