Farm Girl, Part 17 (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 

-

“You haven’t posted in months,” said Paige blithely. “Your followers were desperate for new content. Do you know how much money you’re bringing in with this stream?”

“Turn—it—off,” said Megan, face hot and heart pounding. She couldn’t believe Paige. The audacity!

“You’re kidding, right?” Paige crossed her arms and leaned back on the doorframe. “That would be like throwing away money.”

“I don’t care!” Megan retorted, breathless and furious. “Paige, this—this is personal!” She broke off to groan and grip her flanks, face contorted in discomfort.

Roger was baffled, looking from one girl to the other.

Sam entered. “What are you fighting about?”

“Meg’s throwing a fit over nothing.” Paige smacked her gum.

“Paige, she can drop at any moment.”

“Drop? She’s about to explode.”

Megan released another long groan. Her mountainous belly was protruding freely for all her followers to see, bobbing with her gasping breaths and grunts of discomfort. The mound was wider than her flanks, her belly button the size of a golf ball. She was implausibly massive, completely stuffed with baby. The tank top she had on only pulled over her four huge volleyball-sized breasts, and barely. It was stretched to transparency against her sweaty body, inches of her lower breasts pushing out under the tautly stretched hem. Her shorts were pushed low by her massive midsection, while feeling extremely tight at her hips, which had seen inches of growth in recent days. The bedsheets were bunched at her feet, but even if they were covering her, Megan had doubts that they would offer much to conceal her condition.

Megan was under too much stress to continue to fight with her deranged roommate. Words were proving useless anyway. She would cut off the stream herself. Before really thinking about it, she somehow pushed herself off the bed, nearly losing her balance once the massive weight of her belly was hanging in front of her. Megan watched it heave up and down, face reddening, sweat pouring. This had been a mistake. One of her hands slid to the underside of her belly. She found the other swinging behind her to clutch her back.

“Meg, what are you doing? You shouldn’t be on your feet,” said Roger, already up and wrapping an arm behind Megan in support.

“Ngghhhh…” was Megan’s only response, her belly tensing and tightening, seeming to shift and push forward right before her eyes. Oh fuck, was all Megan could think as she balanced, whined, and leaned into Roger’s support.

A pressure inside of her burst, and there was a splash of fluid. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“Get that off her,” someone said, and Megan felt hands touching her, guiding her, pulling at her shorts, supporting her belly. Felt herself being lowered to her knees. Her four tits tightened and began to spray milk, the overstressed tank top finally beginning to tear. “What’s happening?” was all she could manage through another groan.

“You’re amazing,” Roger murmured against her ear.

Megan was crying. Pain shot through her stomach, back, and hips, but she already knew.

She was in labor.

-

Megan was exhausted.

She couldn’t believe she’d just had seven freaking babies.

They were all a healthy size. Oversized in Megan’s opinion.

She felt weirdly gutted. Deflated. Empty. Her belly was still round and fat, but no longer a bolder pinning her down. But the weight was still there in the form of the seven babies presently covering her body, four nursing, one sleeping, and the other two just quietly sobbing in a way that was painful to listen to. She wished she could feed them all simultaneously, but she only had four breasts. Two too many, to be perfectly honest. Not that she hadn’t gotten used to the extra ones. Grown to appreciate them. Roger certainly did.

“Megan, fuck,” Roger murmured beside her, continuing to stare at the infants, sort of mystified, even though at least an hour had passed since Megan had created them.

“Yeah,” Megan whispered, because she was equally stunned. She’d just given birth. She was a parent. It was a lot to process. She wasn’t sure if she ever would.

Her breasts only seemed to be getting fuller and heavier, filling more to meet the demand of seven hungry mouths. She was glad she was lying down. She didn’t want to think about the strain the huge masses would be on her spent body. I’m a college sophomore, Megan realized, dazedly. How did she expect to juggle coursework with nursing and caretaking?

“We’ll figure it out,” said Roger, as though reading her mind. Roger absently rubbed Megan’s arm though his eyes never shifted from the newborns. “God, Megan. You’re fucking amazing.”

Megan rolled her eyes. You only mentioned twelve times, she said, quietly satisfied. Only, her lips didn’t move. And her eyes were closed now.

“Go ahead. Rest. I’ll handle this for now.”

Megan would have expressed her reluctance were she not already halfway to dreamland.

-

It was a few weeks later, and Paige had moved out. She said all the crying was disruptive to her peepshows (and apparently she required sleep at night. An odd notion to Megan who was mostly fueled by caffeine and a chorus of screams).

Roger hadn’t technically moved in, but he was there all night every night, and most days as well. The two were doing most of their coursework online, though Roger still tried to make lacrosse meets.

Megan’s tits were the size of basketballs and she was almost always nursing. They were full and heavy, and she had to lie down almost hourly. Sometimes they got so tight, she would wake up crying, and Roger would push her back into the mattress, and relieve some of the tension until the babies were up and wailing to feed.

It was strange, the first time Roger had sucked her since the birth. Alternating from feeding her children to feeding Roger—it was an entirely different sensation, and a bit confusing, so Megan preferred to avoid it, though that wasn’t exactly working.

“God Megan, I didn’t even imagine you could get this big,” Roger murmured to her in the dark of early morning one day when everything was blissfully silent. At least for the moment.

Megan squirmed against Roger, grunting slightly as some of Roger’s weight shifted against her chest. She hadn’t imagined getting to this size either. But she was quickly learning to have no expectations when it came to her body’s capacity for growth.

Megan’s belly was still plump and round, making her look as though she was still quite pregnant, maybe with one child rather than a fucking litter though. Roger indulgently rubbed Megan’s belly, hand kneading into the doughy bloat of it. In the meantime, he kissed every inch of Megan’s four huge tits.

“God, you look so hot,” said Roger breathily. “Can’t wait to get you pregnant again.”

Megan’s four nipples squirted, groin tingling. Despite her body’s reaction to the notion, she tried to gain control of the situation. “Are you nuts? You’re never doing that to me again.” She breath shuddered, and she unconsciously arched as Roger ran his tongue along the cleavage of her upper breasts. “We have seven,” said Megan shakily. “I have to finish college and—and do shit besides nursing.”

“I was just…talking,” said Roger, pulling back and meeting Megan’s eyes through the dark. He didn’t look very sincere or convinced, himself. “I didn’t actually mean it.”

Megan frowned, sighed, and shook her head. She closed her eyes and leaned back in a cue for Roger to continue. He did.

“It ishot,” Megan admitted weakly. “Sometimes. When you…when you talk about stuff like that.”

“Mmmm,” Roger hummed.

Megan went rigid when Roger put Megan’s upper left nipple into his mouth and gave a forceful suck.

“But seriously. We’re never doing that again,” Megan breathed.

Roger hummed again in what Megan presumed was agreement.

Of course, there had never been much self-control between the two of them. They were eighteen and nineteen, and not the most responsible. Not the most restrained.

-

Megan belatedly noticed that she was off the hormone.

She never really registered when she had actually quit it. It had to have been sometime early in the pregnancy. It wasn’t a conscious decision. The addiction had just vanished, replaced with panic, stress, and perhaps a supplemental addiction to daytime soap operas.

What had previously been an impossibility had become the easiest thing in the world. She had her babies to thank, she supposed.

After six months of nursing, Megan’s boobs, thankfully, went down to a more manageable size. By manageable, they were HHH-cups, and resembled ripe honeydews, but she would take it. It was a relief to not have to haul around four full mounds each the size of a basketball anymore.

Perhaps in her current state, she could have fit into a particularly amorphous jacket, or several layers of baggy sweaters, but Megan stopped trying to hide her abnormalities. It became a frivolous concept when she was so busy with juggling school, caretaking, and nursing. She couldn’t further complicate things by trying to be covert about her body.

She got used to the stares, the gaping, and the pointing. The snorts, the snickers, the shrieks—even the occasional attempts at groping.

She just couldn’t care anymore. She didn’t mind her breasts. And she was decidedly preoccupied. On top of everything else, she was still trying to figure out how to introduce all this—her four breasts, boyfriend, and seven babies—to her family. She hadn’t contacted them in at least a year. Had they heard anything about what she’d become?

-

Megan snapped out of her reverie at the sound of footsteps. “Thanks for coming,” she said, eyes meeting Janes’s. “You look—you look great.”

“Thanks,” Jane grinned. “Sober four weeks.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Couldn’t have done it without Sam’s help. And yours too. Thanks for putting up with my three AM phone calls.”

“I was up anyway,” said Megan with a snort.

Jane chuckled. “Sam wanted to come. But I told her she better skip this one. You know she’s preggers again?”

Megan hesitated. “Yeah…” she responded. She absently ran her hand over the curve of her belly.

Both girls turned their attention towards the apartment door they were outside of.

“Did you knock?” said Jane.

“No answer,” said Megan.

Jane turned the knob. “It’s open,” she said, brows rising.

“After you,” said Megan. She never passed up an opportunity to walk behind Jane. In addition to the horns protruding from Jane’ head, she had developed a tail, a cow-tail, protruding just above her ass. It swished occasionally, and just drew extra attention to the huge globes Jane had bobbing behind her. They had only gotten larger since Megan had seen her at the club. Just massive. Probably bigger than each of Megan’s boobs had been at their peak size.

As they walked into the apartment, Megan’s attention was roughly pulled away from Jane’s ass.

The place was a mess, furniture askew, damp spots on the floor and walls, dirty clothes and dishes lying around the living room where they had entered. There were four or so people in the room, among them, Megan’s sister. It had taken a while, but Megan had managed to track Amy here, and Megan was shocked by the sight of her older sibling.

Amy looked delirious, mouth ajar, drool pouring down her chin. She was sprawled back on the couch beneath her massive orb of a belly which had only inflated since Megan had last seen it. Some girl was leaning on Amy’s belly, mouth spread wide over Amy’s navel, Amy’s belly-nipple filling the girl’s mouth. The girl was nursing, but Amy barely seemed to register it. Amy was gazing at the ceiling, mumbling indecipherably.

“Get off her,” said Megan, her and Jane moving forward to pull the girl off. Once Amy’s belly-nipple was free, is released a forceful spurt, then just began to ooze a thick substance that looked more like pudding than milk.

Up-close, Amy’s belly was massive. Bigger than Megan’s at the height of pregnancy. Bigger than Amy, Megan thought. It was visibly pulsing and looked incredibly strained. There was no way her sister would be able to get up. The mound was huge, practically crushing her.

“Woah…” Jane murmured, staring.

Megan looked at the other people around the room. They all seemed to be in their twenties, perhaps college classmates of Amy’s. One guy had to be four-hundred pounds, and had his face buried in a canvas bag of what looked like more hormone. A girl was hoovering around nervously. She had a big, bouncy ass that looked unnatural, two nubs pushing out against her shorts in the center of each cheek. Ass-breasts?

The girl they had pulled off Amy had huge boobs. Just one pair, but they had to be the size of basketballs.

Megan just shook her head. “Get out of here!” she yelled. “Get yourselves some help!”

The hormone addicts froze up just for a moment before they all scrambled for the door.

“Don’t come back,” Jane added, locking the door after them.

Megan sighed, again regarding her sister. “Amy? Amy, can you hear me? We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

The End