Businessman (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Daniel Craft.

$20 Patreon Directory

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Darren King was tall, dark, and handsome. He was so perfect it was almost eerie.

Teresa had originally met him at a club one night. They had hooked up in the bathroom and danced till morning.

Backbend, she hadn't known he was Darren King, founder of Bizcorp. Or  Darren King, estimated net worth in the hundreds of millions, though it  was probably more.

She kept bumping into him in the weeks that followed. It was like he was  everywhere. She suspected that it couldn't just be coincidental. What  was the harm to it, anyway. He was kind, generous, and attractive.  Still, something about him rubbed her the wrong way. And so she steered  clear.

Darren was in his late 30s. He was a stark contrast from her: a  struggling waitress of eighteen. Darren was he was drowning in cash and  sycophants who did whatever he bade of them. And Darren always got what  he wanted. She had laughed off his efforts to catch her attention, but  she should have realized he would have her eventually.

"I'm getting an abortion," she told him, just two days after she had  found out about the…fetus. "I don't want anything…just thought you  should know."

Darren was appalled; even offended. She had never seen him fall so  completely apart. He pleaded, "God, please don't. I'll take care of  everything. You can even move-in. I'll do whatever you want. Please,  just don't kill my baby."

And so it was decided.

At the time, Teresa had not known that Darren had done this before,  several times in fact. That she was just the latest in a string up woman  he had managed to knock up, only she was special. She was his ideal  girl. He wanted to breed her more thoroughly than anyone had ever been  bred before.

A few years later, Teresa was flushed and sweaty. She was bigger than  she had ever gotten during her last pregnancies. She moaned out as her  belly clenched and tightened, as she rubbed it desperately.

Just another false contraction. She sucked in long, deep breaths as she  continued to waddle into her "office." Quotes, because she had yet to do  anything productive with it in the almost three years that she’d had  it. Every time she got on the computer, applied for a job, and disclosed  her pregnancy to a hiring manager, they suddenly became blind her  subsequent emails.

Teresa's belly scraped either side of the doorframe. "God," she puffed  out, just astonished by her growth this time around. She swore, the  servants must've been putting something in her meals. Even though she  was carrying quads, she was just obscenely large. Her belly was wider  than she was, resembling a beach ball against her struggling form.  Teresa had to stop and grip the wall to catch her breath, before she  steeled herself, and took another step forward, towards desk.

She didn't think she could grow another inch. If she did, she was  certain she would burst. As if on cue, a surge of tension blossomed in  her gut.

"No, no, no, no…" She pleaded with her body, her cheeks reddening as her  belly tightened, inching forward as she groaned. Her back arched by  instinct. It was just too much. She gripped at her mass, as though to  push it back in, but it continued to proceed steadily outwards, her body  pouring sweat as she struggled not to collapse beneath her own weight.

She managed to grip onto the desk, panting heavily as the growth spurt  subsided. "Jesus," she breathed, gripping the underside of her massive  mound. She just about managed to stagger to the chair and ease down  against it.

She had never wanted this life for herself. But Darren could be  quite…persuasive. He loved seeing her pregnant; the bigger the better.  He showered her with gifts and assurances of how gorgeous she was like  this. And each time she gave birth, he made the arrangements for the  children to be deposited in a special facility ‘for the enrichment of  youth.’ It was a glorified orphanage. The thought made Teresa's heart  clench, but she didn't quite know how she felt about it.

Teresa didn't know if she could ever handle being a mother. She had been  thrust into this. She was certain she had lost count of how many babies  he had birthed already, and at the tender age of twenty. But there was  that mental separation. She would give birth and the babies would be  carted off to the orphanage immediately. She had once felt as though her  whole life was ahead of her, but lately she'd just look down at herself  and realize what a mess she was in. She was broke. Without family. She  could hardly escape Darren's mansion, even physically.

"Ohhhh…” Teresa groaned as she felt another sensation of tightness in  her core. Initially she thought it was another growth spurt, but instead  her belly contracted forcefully, accompanied by a sharp pain. She  wasn't having a growth spurt but going into labor, though she didn't  know which was worse. She was exhausted, and Darren had always insisted  on natural deliveries. That meant hours upon hours of pushing and  straining. And these were big babies. They always were.

"Nrggggghh…hold onn," Teresa moaned as she desperately rubbed what she  could reach of her belly, trying to ease the squirming movements.  "Easy…easy…" She braced herself on the desk edge, and struggled to get  up. Her first attempt failed, a new forceful contraction causing her to  sprawl back, whining out. But even despite it, she was hardly able to  stand on her own these days, at her immense size. Taking several long,  deep breaths, she gripped the desk and made another attempt to stand. It  must've taken several minutes before she was able to push her belly  ahead of her and rise, then endure the struggle of balancing it. Her  breasts were large, swollen, and aching, and it was only then that she  noticed her nipples were leaking into her too-small maternity dress. She  was getting close.

Clutching her belly, Teresa wobbled her way to the door. She yelped as  her belly bumped on the frame, but this time she could not push her mass  through. She was too big; stuck, literally. She felt another  contraction starting to build. Crying out, she eased herself down on her  knees.