The Janitor, Part 2 (Patreon)

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Summary: Derek Carter, CorpaCorp's Chief Executive Vice President, gets knocked up…by the janitor. And subsequently blackmailed by said janitor into carrying the baby (babies?) to term. And further blackmailed into doing various other disturbing things that exacerbate his expanding condition. All while fruitlessly battling an unwanted addiction to the aforementioned janitor's...impressive portfolio. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, stuffing, weight gain, butt expansion, pregnancy.

Previous Chapter 

-

“I’m afraid, Mr. Carter, that you are past the point that you can legally end the pregnancy. In this state, you can only abort up to fifteen weeks. And you’re just about there. I’d say, since yesterday.”

What the fuck, was all Derek could think. “I missed the deadline…by a day?” He could feel his throat narrowing but tried to keep it together. “This state? But I can go to…to another state?”

“No,” said Dr. Porter. “I mean, it’s possible. There is one state that allows abortion up to twenty weeks, but that’s across the country. And I’m not familiar with the specialty clinics there, if any even exist. Even then, you might have difficulty flying. Since your condition is so rare and new, many airlines don’t allow —”

“Thank you,” said Derek, hastily wiping the gel off his abdomen. He sat up, jerking his shirt down as he stepped off the bed.

“Wait sir, there’s something else you should know. You see, during the sonogram, I saw that, extraordinarily enough, it wasn’t just a single fetus. I detected three. Triplets. This has never happened before in human history — that being a male multiples pregnancy. Your condition is extremely —”

But Derek had heard enough it. Startling and horrifying as the information was, it didn’t matter, because he was getting rid of this. How the fuck he had ended up in this situation was beyond him, and with — just — what the fuck? Shaking his head, he left the clinic.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. He was too anxious, too disturbed by what he had become. Not only was he pregnant, but he was pregnant with three fucking babies. Three of them. Inside of him. He was now four people in one. No, not people, not yet. Never. He was getting rid of this. How the hell had it even happened? It was just too weird. There must have been something wrong with him. He must have consumed something, or been exposed to some sort of radiation. This just wasn’t natural. Three of them? No, he wasn’t going to think about that.

In the morning, through the grogginess and palpitations, he managed to clear out one of his weekends. His calendar was so packed, it wouldn’t be for a couple of weeks that he could afford to take the time off. And even then, it didn’t really work, because there were still client meetings, but maybe he could somehow turn them into phone conferences. It wouldn’t be professional, and the investors would be on his ass for cutting corners. He even risked losing a couple of accounts. He couldn’t believe how busy things were. But that was supposed to be a good thing. The company was growing.

And if any of these deals fell through, the company would be out millions. There were other executives who would kill for his job, kill for it. All he needed was for one of them to see his moment of weakness and try to slip right in, present and reliable, replacing him in an instant.

This whole situation was a nightmare. Derek was counting the days, but he was getting bigger, getting bigger with fucking…triplets. Jesus. He felt like he was growing every day, bit by bit, stretching out his clothing. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t find a shirt that fit him. Everything was just too tight, and he looked sloppy with his stomach bulging in his ill-fitting shirts. Derek had his assistant buy him a couple of new button-down’s, looser ones. Greg didn’t ask questions, and that’s why Derek kept him around. Because the shirts weren’t custom tailored, they looked rather baggy, as the cotton hung over his atypical figure. But this would all be over soon. Derek just had to get through the next couple of days.

By the day before the flight, some of his colleagues were giving Derek odd looks around the office, and Perkins made a light comment about Derek’s weight gain. Audacious prick couldn’t help himself. But it was obvious. And odd. People were really noticing it.

Derek was so emotionally shattered that he practically begged for it when the janitor came by after closing to clean up Derek’s office. It was like some sort of sick consolation prize for making it this far. Derek let the janitor fuck him over his desk, as Derek gripped the edge, grunting with each time the janitor pumped into him, hard and fast. The janitor’s calloused hand gripped Derek’s cock, while his free hand was again curiously holding Derek’s belly. His baby-full belly, all round and firm. It was grotesque.

The phone rang on Derek’s desk. For a while, Derek ignored it, and the janitor kept going. But the ringing went on and on. Getting annoyed, Derek reached out and grasped it with his shaking, sweaty hand. “What?” he groaned into the receiver.

The janitor came, and Derek swore the tension inside him was growing. Derek released an undignified noise as the janitor’s hand squeezed him hard, and his body gave out, his abdomen shuddering.

All the while, Marcus Rogers was rambling desperately on the other line. They were about to lose a major account because of a system error. Information had been lost and their jobs were about to follow.

“Okay, okay,” Derek managed, nearly collapsing against his desk as the janitor pulled out. “Ohhh…we can…we can fix this. I’m still in the office. Let me just get on my computer. Send me the files you have.”

Derek ended up stuck at the office most of the night, typing away at his computer, fidgeting in his seat, and occasionally scratching at his gut. The symptoms were getting harder to ignore. Besides the obvious swelling, and some occasional nausea, there was now a chronic hunger for food and sex that left him flustered and distracted. He felt as though he was losing control of his body and it was just awful.

His stomach grumbled. It was always grumbling lately. He had run out of the snacks he kept in his desk drawer. He had intended to go home after his shift, not spend all night putting together fractured pieces of a client file. But he was almost done, had almost cleaned up another mess and with nothing to show for it.

The janitor returned to Derek’s office, after having been gone for a couple of hours, probably cleaning up other parts of the building. There was a clicking noise. Derek glanced down to see that the janitor had placed something on the desk beside the monitor. It was a glass filled with what looked like a milkshake. Derek salivated just at the sight of it. He was both hungry and thirsty, while craving for something sweet. A shake seemed like precisely what he needed. He lifted the beverage and took a long suck from the straw, and was not disappointed. It tasted like milk and frozen custard, but thicker. He didn’t even look up as the janitor departed again.

That was weird, Derek couldn’t help musing, as he continued to drink while typing with his free hand. The janitor was never particularly nice to him. About time Derek got some respect. The phone started to ring again. Derek lifted the receiver. “Yeah, Rogers? I just need you to send me the PDFs for Mr. Snyder’s last quarterly rate, and then we can…” Derek lost himself in his work.

It was when the sunlight began to peek in through the window blinds that Derek finally managed to tear his eyes away from the computer screen. He was surprised to notice that he had somehow drank through three milkshakes. He hadn’t even been paying attention to their arrival, or as he had consumed them. He palmed his belly, rubbing against the fullness. A large belch erupted from his throat. “God, I have to get out of here.” He lifted some of the papers that scattered the desk.

It was after Derek had packed his suitcase, and was pulling his blazer on, that Rogers arrived in-person. He looked troubled and exhausted, the way Derek imagined he appeared himself. They had been at work all night but they still had another hour until the office opened.

“What are you doing?” Rogers said, his face panicked. “You can’t go, we haven’t finished going through the charts on —”

“You’re going to have to handle this,” Derek said. His flight was in an hour. He might still be able to catch it if he went directly to the airport without stopping home. “I’ll land in two hours. You can call me then. You’ve got this man, just pull up the bookkeeping and input the rest.”

“Our jobs are fucked, and you’re taking a vacation?” Marcus seemed on the brink of a breakdown.

“It’ll be fine. I’m bringing my laptop with me. Just give me two hours. We’ll talk.” Derek managed to finally leave his office and get to the elevator.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the door started to slide shut. His car was waiting outside. He could make it.

A large hand caught the door right before it closed. The elevator slid back open.

It was the janitor.

The rugged man walked inside, standing silently beside Derek as the door slid shut again, not even looking at him.

Derek wondered if he should have thanked him for the milkshakes, but decided against it. He was too infuriated with the janitor, even despite his clear addiction to the man’s large and talented gender. But all that was ending after this weekend. Never again, Derek thought in irritation.

Then the janitor reached out and pressed the emergency brake. The elevator stopped moving. Derek looked at him in bafflement.

“Twenty weeks,” the janitor said.

How the fuck did he know?

“Twenty of the worst weeks of my life,” Derek responded bitterly, reaching out to release the emergency brake.

But the janitor caught his arm then held it in a tight grip. “You’re not getting an abortion,” he said, finally meeting Derek’s gaze with cold eyes.

“I’d like to see you fucking stop me.”

“Maybe I can’t stop you, but I can tell your boss how you skimmed those client accounts five years ago. Wasn’t that just before your big promotion? Gave yourself a nice little bonus.”

How the hell did he know that? Derek felt his face heat in infuriation. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“I am blackmailing you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “You sick bastard,” Derek said, as the weight of the janitor’s demands finally began to trickle through. His voice started to break, “I — I have to get rid of it. I don’t want this. This is going to fuck up my career. It’s going to fuck up my whole life.”

“Your choice.”

But it wasn’t a choice. Derek slumped back against the elevator wall, feeling defeated. “What the fuck,” he whispered. In his periphery, the janitor released the emergency brake.

-

Derek was in shock. Maybe it was denial. He spent the whole day at his apartment, sitting on his couch, staring blankly at his turned-off television screen. Morning turned to evening, steadily advancing towards midnight. Nineteen weeks six days turning slowly to twenty full weeks of pregnancy.

There had to be another way. Another state. Another country, even.

But even if he found a way that was legal, was it even vaguely…moral? Twenty weeks. Wasn’t that like halfway through? Three babies, half cooked? “Oh god,” he breathed, feeling sick. He held his face with his hands. How had everything gotten so out of control?

For the upteenth time, he wondered how he had gotten himself into this mess. He wanted to cry.

Then his stomach grumbled. He was hungry, as usual.

Derek got on his phone and ordered some Chinese food. He sat back and waited, fidgeting impatiently. He even turned on the TV and managed to start watching something, trying to focus on the story and not his current, growing problem. Because he didn’t know what he was going to do. What the hell was he going to do?

“That piece of shit…” Derek muttered. He couldn’t believe that the janitor, the fucking janitor, was blackmailing him. The man was the last person Derek could picture having kids. The janitor seemed to have little interest in anything besides mopping, sneering at people, and occasionally pounding Derek into the client couch in Derek’s office. It seemed like the janitor was doing this almost exclusively to torture Derek. Fatherhood was entirely off of the table for this guy. There was just no fucking way.

He was a sadist through and through. “Who the hell is this guy?” Derek muttered to himself, pulling his laptop out of his briefcase and opening it, before opening a web browser.

He did several web searches of the janitor’s name in various formats, but there was nothing, no social media, no online resumes, no family, nothing. Derek even logged onto the company database and looked through the employee background checks. The janitor was a clean slate. There was nothing on him. Not even employment history prior to his current maintenance job with Derek’s company.

It was just off. There was something really shady about this guy. Before Derek could stop himself, he was scrolling through his phone contacts and putting in a call to an old associate from his old firm. “Hey John. Yeah, it’s me. How are you doing?” John was a private investigator.

Conveniently enough, John Jacobs wasn’t big on small talk. He invited Derek to get straight to the point.

“I was hoping you could look into someone for me. I didn’t want to bring it up with my office because it’s not too serious. Don’t want to make a big thing of it. He’s actually one of the janitor’s in my building.” Derek relayed all the information he had on the guy.

“I’ll look into it,” John promised.

“Thank you. Damn, I owe you one.”

John agreed.

They made arrangements to conference again in a week’s time, then Derek hung up the phone, hoping this supposed progress would pacify his anxiety at least marginally.

But it wasn’t progress. Derek’s predicament remained the same, and was only exacerbating. His belly was firm and bulging, full and bloated, feeling as though it was pulsating where it sat obtrusively against his slim body. He knew it was just his anxiety, giving the thing a pulse; a greater presence. But it was Derek’s entire focus. There was no getting around it. No getting rid of it. It was just there. “Eugh.” Derek really, really needed a drink.

He rubbed his temple, head beginning to throb.

The doorbell rang. That would be the delivery.

For the time being, he supposed, he could bury his woes in food.

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