Farm Girl, Part 9 (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 tried to keep the noise level down in case Paige was home. It was admittedly hard to tell when the other girl came and when she went.

It was 2AM and Megan was in her room, playing video games, industriously trying to focus despite the frequent twinges and her shuddering abdomen, a consequence of Roger, who was presently knelt down between Megan’s spread thighs, his tongue doing ludicrously wonderful things to the four fat nipples that topped off Megan’s breasts.

Roger could drink and drink.His thirst was relentless. Though he could only suck one nipple at a time, he could still rub and squeeze at other ones as the tension in Megan’s body built and she struggled to keep pleasured sounds from escaping her.

“Uhhh…” The controller dropped from Megan’s hand as an orgasm tore through her core and left her trembling. She could feel the growing wetness in her leggings and the short squirts of milk bursting up from her breasts. Roger pulled off one of her nipples with an audible popand smirked up at her.

Megan groaned and leaned towards him. The kiss seemed almost accidental. It left Megan briefly stunned.

“That was nice,” Roger murmured, pulling Megan back and examining her. Megan’s four nipples were still dripping, breast flesh almost contracting. Smiling, Roger began to get up.

Megan panted. “You’ve been by twice a week,” she said breathlessly.

“So?”

“It’s a…a lot of stimulation,” Megan said, looking down at her sweat-soaked body. With a languid sigh, she leaned heavily against the back of the futon.

“It’s a good thing if you ask me,” Roger said, tauntingly trailing his hands along Megan’s waist.

Megan’s breasts were round, heaving, and somehow all still engorged. Megan whimpered as one arbitrarily squirted. “Ohhh…” her face reddened. She unconsciously pushed her breasts outward.

“Want me to stop?” Roger asked, already kneeling back down.

Indeed Megan did, but she couldn’t get herself to say it. It all just felt too fucking amazing.

Rogers wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer, and went back down on Megan’s nipples. Megan could do little more than groan as she covered her eyes with her arm and slumped back into the cushions.

-

All of Roger’s attention was undeniably causing growth, yet Roger made her feel so ridiculously goodboth physically and emotionally, Megan had little hope of resisting him. Roger didn’t treat her like the freak that she was, and that in itself served as an allure.

When Roger wasn’t around they seemed to have phone conversations almost nightly that always just descended into more perversity. Roger would ask questions like, “How big are they now?” and “Are they growing?” or “How much bigger are they gonna get, Megan?” Megan could never seem to formulate a decipherable remark. She’d manage things like, “Big,” or “Yeah,” and sometimes, “Lots.” Anything she said just turned Roger on. The boy couldn’t get enough, to the point that he was almost possessive of Megan’s breasts.

One time Roger said that he wanted them to go out together. The thought was unnerving and ridiculous. Roger had clearly lost his mind (if he’d ever had one).

Things were escalating. Another night, Roger urged Megan to connect to him by webcam on a site called vidSwoopso they could see each other while they were apart. Megan was decidedly apprehension about the notion of getting on the internet with her secret. But it was a private connection, and something was undeniably exciting about the whole thing.

“They’ve been really full,” Megan said late that night as she looked back at Roger on her computer screen. Roger’s arm had disappeared at the bottom of the screen, but based on the frequent jerks, it was fairly obvious what he was doing. “I usually pump them twice a day, but now I’m up to three times.” Even then, Megan’s four breasts were leaking, seeping into her shirt, which was drenched and dripping. She resisted the urge to reach up and cradle the sore mounds. “If I don’t keep up, I’m going to go up another cup size.”

“Fuck…” Roger muttered breathily.

Megan reached down to the hem of her shirt and steadily dragged it up over her head. She was wearing a pair of strapless bras, her large nipples visibly erect, plump breast flesh clearly bulging over the cups. “I don’t think I can handle them getting any bigger,” said Megan, half in pleasure, half in anguish.

Roger’s breathing quickened.

“Sometimes, ohhh…” Megan groaned, one of her nipples stinging, desperate for relief. “Sometimes I actually have go get up in the middle of the nn…night. If I don’t keep up I’m gonna get huge. You’re turning me into a fucking cow, Roger.”

Roger came. Megan could tell by the way his eyes lowered and body shuddered, before he hunched down, gripping his desk.

“I’m coming over,” said Roger definitively.

“Fuck,” Megan panted as she weakly nodded then closed her laptop.

-

Things were rapidly getting out of hand. Everything was tight and straining on Megan. There wasn’t a single bra she wasn’t overfilling. It was Roger’s fault. The worse Megan’s condition got, the more it just seemed to turn Roger on. All the stimulation wasn’t logical or practical. And yet it felt so good, Megan was still completely incapable of refusing it.

Their webcam sessions were almost nightly by then. They didn’t even talk sometimes. Some nights, Roger just wanted to watch her go through the process of getting dressed or undressed. He liked to see the way Megan’s bras strained and her shirts stretched. The one time Megan couldn’t even manage to button herself into her regularly-used night-shirt, Roger had nearly popped a blood vessel.

Tonight, they were doing something new. Roger wanted to see the process of Megan pumping. Awkward as it was, Megan couldn’t help getting a little turned on. She had come a long way from trying to milk herself with just her fingers in high school (or just ignoring the growing pressure). Megan now had a pair of automatic breast pumps with tubing that trailed to large collection bottles, so the process was entirely hands-free.

Megan settled down in front of the camera and went through the process of attaching the suction cups and turning the pumps on. It was usually a comfortable enough process, but with Roger intently watching her, Megan couldn’t help getting aroused. Her face twitched or reddened when one of the sucks drew too pleasantly on her nipples. She breathed long and hard, trying to temper herself as she leaned back, unintentionally tugging on the tubing. She closed her eyes, imagining greedy mouths, Roger’s mouths, four of them sucking her four nipples simultaneously. She arched and grunted, but was distracted by a banging noise. Megan opened her eyes just in time to see one of the bottles topple over.

“Crap.” Wrenching herself out of her reverie, Megan quickly leaned down to collect the fallen bottle. It dripped a bit on her keyboard, but thankfully the cover held. She panted and steadied both liter-sized bottles. She wiped some sweat from her brow and shuddered when she was reacquainted to the rousing sensation of the pump sucking her. She hardly realized that Roger was talking until he shouted the words:

“Meg, you went live!”

“What?” said Megan, turning back to Roger, the blood draining from her face.

Roger was cutting in and out, his screen flickering. “You—live streaming. Pressed—control key—accident.”

It took a moment for Megan to process the remark, face blank, breasts gently rocking with the pulls of the pump. She was certain she had misunderstood. But as she stared at her computer screen, she could see comment bubbles popping up, text remarks from unfamiliar pennames, that said:

‘What the fuck?’

‘Weird shit.’

‘I’m in.’

‘Good cgi. What movie is this fr…’

‘Who the fuck watches stuff like…’

‘freak, kill yourself…’

‘this is hot. Who is this?’

Completely horrified, Megan slammed her laptop shut. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…” She whispered, gripping her face, trying to rationalize this to be a bad dream or prank, or anything other than what it was. Edgily she stood, three of the suction cups detaching and one staying firm. She hardly noticed as she knocked over the milk bottle again, the cap bursting off as it made impact with the floor. She stepped in the puddle of milk as she paced. Her cellphone rang continuously, the name Roger lightly up the screen of it.

She had gone live. Megan had fucking gone live with her huge fucking tits. Her four tits. Everyone had seen it. They—they fucking knew what she was.

Growing more nauseous by the moment, Megan curled up in bed, not even bothering to finish pumping herself.

-

This was Roger’s fault. Everything was Roger’s fault.

Megan was getting calls from him continuously, but she ignored them all. Sometimes Roger would send pleading messages:

Its no big deal Meg =)

Ur face was bearly on screen

No one even knos who u r

Call me u hoe D:

Megan srsly CALL ME!!

But Megan’s mortification never mitigated. It just grew as she faced the enduring consequences.

Her email was absolutely flooded with messages from vidSwoop users who had caught her unintentional livestream. Her email address had been public, but fortunately, was also obscure enough that no one had connected her penname to her real life identity.

The messages varied widely. Some were cruel, abusive, and insulting, while others were just confused or humored. One email consisted entirely of laughing/crying emojis. Some people appeared to think that the video had been some bizarre prank she’d done in an effort to go viral.

The smallest division of the commentary was just intrigued, and inquired about future videos. A user whose penname was TheWiggler even offered her money for another video similar to the one Megan had accidentally streamed.

That message was so baffling, Megan momentarily forgot about her panic. She was completely puzzled that there was a good deal of positive feedback.

In the end, Megan shut down the whole email account, and deactivated her account on the video site, which had also been flooded with messages. She took to hiding out, which wasn’t much of a change from her typical day to day behavior, except that there was a marked increase in her drug use.

Megan had never been sure if Paige had ever actually moved in, but now on the occasions that she did leave her room, she spotted the odd sign that Paige had been around in the form of a designer bag, diamond earrings, or some other thing. Paige was doing well judging by her expensive tastes. Megan wasn’t sure why someone with a $10,000 purse would be renting out her closet, but she supposed it was none of her business.

It sucked that she had to cover herself up so much more than usual—pretty much every time she left her room. Megan knew that her chances of bumping into Paige were slim, but she didn’t want to risk having her tits out in the open. She’d already fucked things up with the webcam incident, so she didn’t need to further increase the level of fuckery (and exposure).

One evening Megan awoke from her doze to the doorbell ringing repetitively. A glance at her cell phone told her that it was just after midnight. She heaved herself out of her bed, barely remembering to pull a baggy jacket around herself, though it really wasn’t that concealing on its own. It was the best Megan could come up with in her groggy, somewhat inebriated, state. With an irritated sigh, she dragged herself to the door of her apartment and opened it without much thought. “Roger,” she said in surprise at the sight of the other teen. “We can’t do this anymore.” But just the sight of Roger had Megan’s tits aching, nipples distending, pushing out for attention.

“Why the hell not?” said Roger, holding the door with his foot before Megan could close it on him.

“We fucked up.”

“You fucked up,” Roger countered. “It had nothing to do with me. And you need to calm the fuck down. It wasn’t even a big deal.”

“How could you say that? I—I was exposed!”

“Don’t you think if anyone was able to identify you, it would have blown up by now?” Roger was stepping closer, invading her personal space, and Megan found herself backing farther into the apartment. “What are you doing in that shit?” Roger scowled at her jacket, before gripping it roughly, and beginning to pull it open.

Megan’s cleavage was flushed and heaving, pressed together and protruding in the inches of her jacket Roger was steadily opening up.

“God, you fucking cow,” Roger breathed.

“Ahem.”

Both froze. They turned to see a disheveled Paige standing outside of her door in nothing but a transparent red teddy.

Megan gawked for a moment, before recollecting her state. She quickly tried to hide herself behind Roger, desperately hoping that Paige hadn’t noticed anything odd. “Sorry for the noise. Didn’t realize you were home,” Megan squeaked.

Roger looked confused. Intrigued as well. “Sorry?” he offered.

Paige just gave them an unimpressed look, threw back her mane, and returned to her room.

“Who’s that?” said Roger. He had quickly resumed his efforts to get into Meg’s jacket. She barely managed to drag him towards her room.

“New roommate.”

“Oh.”

“She’s kinda cute, isn’t she?”

“What? I guess. Not really my type.” Roger started kissing down Megan’s collar, and for some reason it was more satisfying than ever before.

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