Farm Girl, Part 8 (Patreon)

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Note: This is a female version of Farm Boy.

Summary: A high school senior, Megan noticed that her older sister has been dipping into the chemical on their parents' farm, and has been gaining a lot of weight. A bit disgusted, a bit curious, Megan tries the chemical hormones herself, and experiences the best high of her life. She quickly introduces the chemical to her 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: Female: pregnancy, breast expansion, multiple breasts, breast-belly, butt expansion, weight gain, and more. Also, issues of drug addiction.

Previous Chapter 

-

Megan abruptly fast-tracked her transition to college, feigning an interest in higher education that she had never exhibited before. Of course, she was motivated entirely by panic.

She signed up for early summer classes, skipping the orientation process altogether, and she found an apartment near campus online, not even seeing the place before she digitally signed the lease.

She did the whole thing while hiding out in her bedroom, interacting as little as possible with other human beings, her parents included. Whenever they knocked on the door to check on her, she claimed that she was busy searching online for an elusive textbook, or pretended that she was sleeping.

She didn’t even tell them about her departure until after she was already gone. She called her parents and claimed to have spontaneously taken a five-hour day-trip to do a last-minute interview for a paid internship at the university. She had been hired on the spot, and her employers had insisted that she start the very next day. Therefore she had no time to go home and say goodbyes and such.

“Megan, this is all so sudden,” said her mother, sounding baffled on the other line.

“I know,” said Megan, hoping her voice seemed at least remorseful. “I didn’t want to bother you and dad at work. I thought I’d be back before you came home. Honest.” She gave a frustrated-sounding sigh.

“So you’re not coming home? …At all?”

“It would be great if you could ship over my stuff.”

And like that, Megan was gone. She didn’t say goodbye to her friends. She didn’t get her final report card (but suspected she didn’t want to see it anyway). She had moved into her very own apartment, and was funding her rent payments through her modest savings and extreme frugality. It was a relief. She signed up exclusively for online classes once college actually did start up. Her grades were back up, and she largely kept to herself, in her apartment. At times, she did mourn the fact that she was missing out on the traditional college experience. But then she would get high and wonder why it mattered.

Megan kept up with her parents, during phone calls that she spaced out scrupulously. She made sure to let more time pass between each interaction. They were still prattling on about doctor’s appointments and surgery consults. There was even talk of selling the farm.

She just wished they would stop fretting about her. She could suddenly relate to how Amy had felt before her own abrupt escape.

The gaps in contact continued to get larger and larger, and her parents hardly noticed that she was steadily fading from their purview. She ended up moving to a cheaper apartment, but didn’t update them on the address. She made sure to return their calls belatedly, sometimes after a full week had passed.  She made it the new normal, and their standards for her continued to crumble without their notice.

When she did speak to her parents, Megan was sure to always say how amazingly well she was doing (even when she wasn’t). She implied that her body was “really improving” (whatever that meant). Progressively, she pacified their concerns. The medical talk went away, and was all but forgotten.

Megan never told her friends what had happened—not about her encounter with Roger, or even the second pair of fat tits now protruding out on her torso. She didn’t think she could handle the combined vulnerability and humiliation. Maybe it was best if she was just forgotten.

Oddly enough, Megan maintained a weird acquaintanceship with the one person who did know her secret.

Roger went to college one town over.

Megan was surprised the first time she received a message from the other teen. She almost hadn’t responded. But ultimately, she had, and it was weird and hot, and mortifying, but they were casually interacting.

It wasn’t before long until they were both back at Megan’s apartment, talking about high school, as though it was long enough ago to even warrant reminiscing. The interaction as a whole hardly made sense. The two had never been friends in high school, had not even been in the same circles, and had not gotten along as far as Megan could tell.

The conversation trailed into an awkward, but heavy, silence. Roger’s eyes would continuously flicker downwards from Megan’s face. He couldn’t keep them up. Both knew very well why.

Megan’s breast growth had steadied and slowed down, but it had never ceased entirely. At present she had two round, plump pairs of EE-cups bobbing on her chest. She had forgone the trial of squeezing into a bra, yet her four mounds were still high and perk, swollen nipples bulging evidently into the material of the loose T-shirt she was wearing. The mounds were huge on her slim frame, and they were altogether impossible to disguise by that point.

“God, it’s so hot,” Roger breathed.

Megan felt her nipples stiffen more, pushing out to the point that it was almost painful. She had milked her tits thoroughly prior to Roger’s arrival, but somehow felt fully engorged again. She tried not to shift too much. She was feeling so sensitive, she could hardly stand it. “I can…I can turn on the aircon—” Megan started, when Roger impatiently grabbed her shoulders, and leaned over her, breathing heavily.

Megan arched slightly, allowing her four mounds to push into her shirt, causing her to shudder as her groin went hot. It had been so long since she had been touched by another. In fact, she hadn’t been touched since Roger had done it the last time, in that high school bathroom. Just the thought made Megan whimper. Her breasts had become a source of pure, unadulterated pleasure, and was beginning to rival even the drug in its potency.

“They’ve gotten bigger,” Roger noted breathlessly. He dipped one of his hands into his pants, and began to stroke shamelessly. “How much bigger are they going to get?” His other hand continued to hold Megan’s shoulder firmly, maintaining a distance between them, though didn’t seem to properly account for the mass of Megan’s breasts, because they were close to stroking into Roger’s chest, as Megan arched farther, almost desperate. They wobbled gently. Megan panted and squirmed, and screwed up her face as she struggled to regain control.

“Don’t…don’t know…” she said in response to Roger’s question. Her nipples had finally reached far enough to graze Roger’s chest, as she wantonly rocked them. Milk was seeping, staining their shirts, but Roger hardly seemed to mind.

“Can you put on something hot for me?” Roger asked. “Some nice bras, or—”

“Fuh-fuck off,” Megan retorted, finally breaking away from Roger’s hold and launching forward, smacking into Roger’s chest with a sharp burst of arousal that left her panties wet.

“Shit Meg, can I…?”

Megan didn’t even know what Roger was inquiring about, but she nodded hurriedly.

Then Roger’s fingers were rubbing gently into the fatty flesh, as Megan whimpered and wondered why the fuck they had wasted a full half hour talking in the first place.

The pressure grew harder, Roger rubbing and squeezing as milk dripped or squirted depending on the force, and Megan sunk beneath him, as Roger hoovered above. He allowed his hot breath to press against one of Megan’s nipples, causing Megan to groan.

Megan felt her shirt being peeled off. She felt the kisses and sucks, and almost wanted to tell Roger to stop, but also, who gave a fuck about a little residual engorgement, when it felt this good to have Roger’s face buried in her four breasts. The mounds had proven embarrassing and useless, but then there was this.

-

Her phone was giving off a melodious chime that just cycled continuously. Megan groggily dipped her hand under her pillow, grabbed it up, and shoved it against her ear. “Yeah?”

“Meg?”

Megan was suddenly wide awake. “Shit Sam, how did you get this number?” she blurted as she shifted herself upright, absently cradling the side of her lower left breast with her hand. She looked around the dark room. To her relief, Roger was gone.

“Your mom gave it to me. Was I not supposed to call it?” said Sam, sounding hurt.

“No Sam, I just—I’m a little surprised,” said Megan awkwardly, wondering if it was too late to just hang up.

“You didn’t even tell us you were leaving,” said Sam.

“Yeah, well the job, it was really sudden, and…” Megan found herself rambling.

“Don’t bullshit me. You could have called.”

Megan swallowed. “Yeah, I guess I’m just not so good with goodbyes. Sorry, Sam.”

There was an awkward pause as Megan held her breath. She continued to absently rub the flushed flesh of her mounds, each of them tense and a bit prickly in their engorgement.

“So…how are things going with you?” Sam finally asked.

Megan looked down at herself. “Um…college is okay,” she said, trying to evade the matter of most relevance. Her face twisted as the pressure spontaneously surged, all four of her nipples starting to drip. She distractedly squeezed one of the nubs with her free hand, hissing out as it squirted. She struggled not to groan. “I’m in the middle of midterms right now. How are things going with you? And Jane?”

“I’m okay. Still with my parents.” Megan could practically hear the shrug. “Jane actually moved out on her own. She got a…job.”

“Oh?”

“As a stripper.”

“Wah…woah…” said Megan, trying to bear the arousing sensations and confused feelings, all while tweaking her tits. All four squirted. “Fuh…”

“You okay?” said Sam.

“Yeah,” Megan managed. “I mean, just…what the fuck?”

“I know.” Sam laughed. “But she’s actually really good at it.”

“You’ve seen her?” Just the thought of Sam watching Jane strip made Megan want to simultaneously crawl into a hole and finger herself.

Sam was still laughing. “No, I mean, she showed me a move or two.”

“What a one-eighty.” Megan just couldn’t imagine the tomboyish Jane stripping, but she supposed stranger things had happened, as she looked at the four mounds wobbling on her chest.

“Yeah, well…keep in touch, Meg. Maybe I’ll head out to see you some time.”

“That would be…” Megan trailed off, because she didn’t quite know what that would be. It would be something.

“Talk to you later.”

“Later,” Megan responded, as she contemplated changing her number. She hung up and slumped back against her pillows.

-

The price of the drug was progressively increasing. Megan did an extensive search of the ingredients, but it seemed to be a trade secret.

Most of her money went towards tuition, housing, and general living expenses, and she barely had anything left over for petty spending let alone an expensive drug habit.

Megan was digging around for a textbook one day when she noticed that her apartment had a particularly large closet.

She tried putting it online for rent as a Quaint bedroom. Cozy and well-insulated.

She was surprised by the flood of responses she got from desperate college students in various stages of financial purgatory.

A sophomore named Paige insisted on coming to see the place that very day. Megan draped herself in a variety of large, amorphous winter coats she had purchased for just these sorts of situations. Paige arrived at the apartment, smacking gum loudly. She glanced over the place with little interest and no inquiries.

She was at the cusp of being overweight in a cutely voluptuous way, dressed in a short skirt and a tank top. Unreservedly, she tugged some of her skirt out of her ass crack.

Megan started, “The utilities are usually—”

“I’ll take it,” Paige cut her off, drawing some of her long, unruly hair out of her face. She then dug into her purse and pulled out a crumpled wad of cash, before handing it over. “First month and security deposit.”

Megan opened and closed her mouth, before recovering. “Welcome, roomie,” she said, as she took the money and counted the varied bill types.