Farm Girl, Part 16 (Patreon)

Story Directory: $5 Patrons
Story Directory: $10 Patrons
Story Directory: $20 Patrons

Story Schedule

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 kept growing.

She absorbed herself in food and video games and continued to do a scant amount of school work. Things were getting so bad, there was a risk of expulsion. But Megan could hardly bring herself to care anymore. She was in a strange, numb state of avoidance. She tried to ignore what was going on in life outside of her games.

She was surprised by how much she grew. It seemed like too much, but she was still growing. Her boobs were still squirting, leaking, and swelling, and Megan couldn’t help fingering herself several times a day. She would think about Roger inside of her. She was getting fucking needy. Eyes widening, Megan released a whimper as she came, before slumping back, gasping against the mattress.

Most of Megan’s time was spent in bed propped up on several pillows. Her thighs would be spread, legs curled slightly, sort of cradling her belly while avoiding getting crushed beneath the heavy mass. Her huge breasts heaved where they were stacked on the mound, pressing into her chin at times. Megan was continually breathless and flushed, and the pressure seemed to be increasing every day. So was the strain, her skin hot and prickling. She felt packed to bursting and it was getting harder to bear.

Then one morning, Megan awoke, and realized she had gone from what she’d thought to be maximum capacity to a whole new extreme. She gasped and grunted, face contorting as she fidgeted for relief. She was just so tight. Too tight. It was uncomfortable, almost painful. She was almost scared to move, it was just too much.

There couldn’t just be one in there, she was way too big. How many were there, then? She had to be close, right? Megan didn’t know, she couldn’t calculate it. When had she and Roger started fucking, anyway? Megan stared in anguish at the huge globe attached to her body.

“Nrrgghhhh…” she grunted, as the pressure just got all the more impossible to tolerate.

Her face was hot. She found herself truly straining, straining to bear it all. Her hips shuddered.

“Fuhhhkk, fuck, fuckk,” Megan grunted, quivering, arching, searching for relief.

She estimated that she looked bigger than Sam had ever been, even bigger than Amy, but not swollen with milk, packed with fucking human beings. A strangled cry came up Megan’s throat. She was in stress, but not in labor. She was just straining. Her body couldn’t contain them. She was just too tight.

The door burst open, and there stood Paige in her night shirt. “Fuck, Megan, are you alright?”

“God, I need to give birth,” Megan managed, feeling tears run down her cheeks. “I need to feed them.” Her four nipples squirted.

Paige came over, tried to placate, but it was no use. Megan’s belly was throbbing forcefully, almost jerking, as she grunted, cried, and rambled. “Need to give birth, need to now, n-need to give birth Paige, I need them out my me, need my babies, need to feed them.” She was gonna pop. “Oh god,” Megan wheezed, shuddering, hyperventilating.

She must have blacked out at some point, because when Megan found herself lifting her eyelids again, the room was dark, as though the sun was just about to set. The bedside lamp was on though, and Megan was surprised to see Sam sitting there beside her.

“Ughhhh…” Megan groaned, regarding herself.

The blanket had been pushed down so her bare abdomen was exposed, in all its massiveness. And it was gleaming with…something. Creams. Oils? The pressure was still severe, but it wasn’t completely intolerable.

“Helps, right?” said Sam. She was no longer pregnant. She must have given birth. It was bizarre how quickly Sam seemed to have reverted to her small, mousy form, aside from a gentle curve to her belly, and a full pair of C-cup breasts bulging on her chest beneath the loose shirt she had on. “I was wondering why I couldn’t get in touch with you…” Sam mused aloud.

Megan choked out a sob. “S-Sam,” she managed, feeling so very pathetic and exposed. She looked down at her huge belly, eyes burning in shame. It shuddered. “I—I n-need them out of me.”

“You’ll have your babies soon,” said Sam, surprisingly gentle compared to how Megan remembered her in their school days. Maybe it was just something that went along with maternity. “Soon you can feed all of them,” Sam continued. “Not yet. Just a little more time. We need you to calm down.”

Of all the people Paige could have called, it seemed she had made the right decision. Megan felt the latter end of her breakdown mitigating. “God,” she huffed out. “F-felt like I couldn’t breathe for a minute.”

“It’s…a lot,” said Sam, eyes pinned to Megan’s orb. It was like a bolder, a massive ball bulging out, impossibly huge on her narrow body. It was wider than Megan was, practically crushing her in her position sprawled back on some pillows. Her thighs had gone numb. Megan tried to shift them.

The mound quavered with movement, Megan’s face twitching. Her nipples squirted hard, and she gasped for breath. “D-didn’t even know this could happen,” Megan managed.

“It’s okay,” said Sam simply. “You’re doing fine.”

It was weird to talk like this, in the dark room, on a subject that was so very intimate. Megan felt terribly vulnerable.

She felt like further explanation was warranted, but she didn’t even know where to start. She didn’t want to. If she thought about Roger, she was sure she’d just go numb again. “Always thought pregnancy was your thing,” Megan mumbled.

“Now it’s our thing,” said Sam, half joking. She reached out, and hesitated, before resting her hand just below Megan’s navel. “It’s almost over. Then you get to deal with being a parent.” Sam smiled and rolled her eyes.

Megan frowned at the thought.

-

Paige gave Megan something, some sort of herb to calm her down. She swore it was okay for the baby—more likely babies. And Megan had been so anxious, she’d actually accepted it.

Now she felt strangely mellow. It wasn’t unpleasant, just not very productive. She gazed aimlessly at the ceiling. Every so often, Paige or Sam would come in to check on her.

Megan shifted and fidgeted on the bed under the constant strain of her condition. She was continually trying to adjust herself as one limb went numb or another began to ache.

Her shirt only pulled down over her four breasts—and not completely. Her belly bulged out, huge and bizarre, practically bigger than she was. Megan was too flustered and overheated to bother trying to cover it up with a blanket. She was left to gaze uneasily at the nudges and kicks as they manifested on her tight skin. Frequently, she moisturized what she could of it with the salves and oils Sam had brought. But Megan’s hands couldn’t even reach most of the expanse of her belly anymore. So Sam, and sometimes Paige, helped. Megan would close her eyes and put her head back to endure the awkwardness of the contact.

There was a knock on the door. Two light taps. “Meg? Someone’s here to see you,” Paige called.

Megan furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” she said, putting her hands on the mattress behind her, shifting up somewhat, too baffled to properly react. Why on earth would she want a visitor in her state? And who could it possibly even be, that would just be allowed to come in, and—

Oh.

Roger entered the room.

He looked so young and uncomplicated in his team jacket and sneakers.

Megan was young as well.

But Megan was becoming a parent.

“Fuck,” Megan wheezed out, face burning hot. Her hands scrambled against the huge expanse of her belly, as though to cover it, but the prospect was ludicrous.

Roger looked astonished. He stood there gawking in silence, and to Megan’s mortification, she felt tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

“Fuck,” Roger echoed, walking to her side. He took Sam’s vacated seat. “Did I—? Are you—? W-why the hell didn’t you tell me?” said Roger, still marveling, then blinking hard, and gaping some more. “I got you pregnant?” he said, voice cracking a little. Suddenly they were both crying, and Roger was leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. Megan didn’t know whether it was right or wrong, but she didn’t fight it; couldn’t have if she’d wanted to.

They didn’t talk much after that, they just sort of tried to absorb each other’s presence and the bizarreness of the situation. The first time Roger laid his hands on her belly, her face went bright red again.

“God, they’re mine Meg,” Roger said, rubbing gently. Eventually he got up and sat on the bed opposite Megan, legs crossed so he could face the mound directly. “Does this help?” he asked, indicating the oils on the bedside table.

Megan nodded.

“Is it okay if I—?”

She nodded again.

Her eyes fluttered as Roger began to rub the salves into her skin. Megan breathed heavily. She could feel her eyes watering again, to her frustration. She was just so fucking hormonal like this. And Roger’s return—it was just a lot for one day.

“Relax,” said Roger, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Megan grumbled back. She whimpered, fidgeted, and released a long huff. “It’s been—a lot. A lot to take,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Megan, feeling practically buried under her mounds in her overwhelmed state.

Roger took his time with the massage, often pausing to take in movements within Megan’s flesh and under his hands. He spread the salve slow and methodically, and Megan became surprisingly comfortable—more so than lately, at least. It had to have lasted at least a half hour, and she found herself dozing off, before Roger said, “The pumps?”

Megan blinked groggily up at him.

Roger shot a long glance to Megan’s four breasts. “Looks like you can use them.”

Megan’s breast were bloated and full, probably fuller than they had ever been before, because they were tight, tender, sore, and almost too-round, nipples bulging prominently. They squirted any time Megan made a move.

“Yeah, okay,” Megan mumbled, thinking that pumping might be helpful, but then, it might not have much of an impact. Megan found pumping also served to stimulate, and rile her body up in general. She was already perpetually horny as it was, and the thought of hitting orgasm, though pleasurable, seemed exhausting.

“You always did say you’d put a baby in me,” Megan noted wearily.

Roger gave an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, I did,” he said, and he regarded Megan, eyes dark. She was familiar with that look and found herself silently baffled. She honestly looked like a whale. Was Roger actually turned on by her in this state? Megan swallowed.

“Did you lose the weight?” Megan asked, more to distract than anything else.

Roger opened the flaps of his jacket. “Not really,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t much, a little pudginess under his jersey.

“Ah.”

“Neither did you.”

A short, hysterical laugh escaped Megan’s throat. “Clearly.”

“How are the girls?” said Roger.

Megan knew Roger was referring to her tits. Megan looked down at the four mounds stretching her shirt almost to tearing, the fabric now soaked to transparency by the strain.

“The least of my worries,” Megan said, rubbing her face. Roger got the pumps and gingerly drew up Megan’s shirt. Helped Megan attach them one by one. Roger’s tongue dragged over his bottom lip and Megan tried to relax even as her groin started to heat up.

“God, you look so good,” Roger muttered like he was voicing a thought, causing Megan to bite her lip.

Before Megan could be dragged down that rabbit hole of a conversation that would likely entail questions like— “were they back together?” “what did ‘together’ even mean?” “did Roger actually want to try something physical?” “did Megan?” “wasn’t this whole situation just batshit nuts?”—Megan’s eyes caught something in the corner of the room. A tiny, blinking red light. She focused harder, trying to find the source, and saw smooth, sleek edges. She managed to make out a camera. There was a hidden camera, and it was directed to the bed. Megan was being recorded, half-nude and completely exposed. Her jaw fell.