Shark, Part 1 - Male Version (Patreon)

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Summary: In his career, Logan likes to fuck his competition. Literally. He gets them pregnant and they get out of his way. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, multiples, weight gain, stuffing.

-

Everything revolved around Goop’ms.

They was sweet, squishy, soft and buttery, covered in icing while packed with an indulgent custard filling. Often served with a scoop of ice cream or a dollop of whipped cream, they were the number one pastry in the country, and were completely dominating the packaged snack food industry.

There was a plate of them sitting in the center of the table, as there usually was during meetings. As Logan and his colleagues filed into meeting the room, Logan made sure to pluck up one of the plump pastries to show his appreciation for the product. He placed the snack onto one of the small paper plates provided and set it in front of him on the table as he sat down.

As Colton walked in, he did the same, setting not one but two pastries on his own paper plate. When Colton sat down, he took a generous bite, eyes closing in exaggerated pleasure as he chewed. Trying to one-up Logan, as usual.

Logan didn’t take the bait. He just smiled. He took a nibble of his own Goop’m, though he secretly didn’t have much of a taste for them. He was getting older and couldn’t necessarily eat this shit all the time. He wasn’t some punk kid after all.

Not like Colton. Twenty-six and highly caffeinated, Colton was fresh-faced, competitive, and desperate to dominate the world in under a year or so. He had the tenacity of an intern and the depravity of a fortune-500 CEO, and Logan couldn’t fucking stand him.

“Okay, let’s get started,” said Ike Turner as he walked in. Ike would be running the meeting that day. “Smith, how are we doing on numbers?”

Logan tried to be attentive, though his mind kept straying to international marketing strategies.

Boddims products could be found in every grocery store, convenience store, vending machine, school and college campus; even some sporting goods stores and doctors offices. The most profitable product, the famous Goop’m, was beloved by all, and practically a national treasure. And it was all too easy. They marketed it as dessert, as a late-night indulgence, as an after-school treat, lately, even as a health food. With all the new food regulations, Logan knew that couldn’t last long, but hopefully they would have hooked a couple million more consumers before Goop’ms went back to just being fat-cakes again.

The business was a thriving success. Logan was looking forward to shepherding the upcoming rollout to global markets and taking due credit for revitalizing the brand. There was just one thing that stood in his way.

“I think it may be premature to be applying for permits in Asia,” Colton piped in midway through the meeting.

Logan snapped out of his reverie. “What—? Why? We’ve been planning this for years. The schedule —”

“Haven’t you heard about the equipment failures at the factory in Johnson?” Colton cut him off, his brow rising. “There was a parts recall for one of the mechanical switches. Our engineers are anticipating failures at other factories and there’s a real risk of a product shortage. We should push the Asian release to...”

Logan sat in stunned silence as the conversation turned altogether to the shortage risk. This was years of his effort, his work, all him, from the proposal to every step of implementation thus far. He had been waiting for this to succeed just so he could rub it in Colton’s face. A significant promotion was practically guaranteed.

Though his heart was pounding, and his face was hot, Logan made sure to maintain a neutral expression. This is his fault. He didn’t know how, but this was all Colton’s doing.

As if reading his mind, Colton met Logan’s eyes, his lips holding the slightest touch of a smirk. “Sorry Logan. This might set you back a year or two. Maybe you can work on the new label designs.”

To suggest Logan do something so insignificant…typical of Colton to kick a man while he was down. Logan fixed his mouth into a grimace of a smile. He didn’t hear the rest of Colton’s prattling. He just nodded. The rest was static.

-

“Hey, I brought the watch,” said Marc as he barged into Logan’s office several weeks later. He was unlatching a ludicrously expensive Frolex from his left wrist. “If you’re going to keep borrowing it, you might as well offer to buy it off me.” Marc walked over to where Logan was seated behind the desk to hand the watch over. Marc still had his hospital name tag on, which read Dr. Marcus Wright.

“Thanks,” said Logan, hardly looking up from his paperwork. “Founder’s gonna be at the conference later.”

Marc rolled his eyes. “Like I said, you can buy the watch.”

Marc and Logan were cousins but Logan wasn’t sure if he would characterize them as friends. They had always just tolerated each other, cycling between companionship and enmity since childhood.

There was a light knock on the door frame. Both Logan and Marc looked to see Colton now leaning there.

“Hi Marc,” Colton said offhandedly, before directing his attention to the other man in the room. “Logan, do you have that report on the March filing?”

“I’ll email it over right now,” Logan said.

“Hi…” said Marc belatedly. He was staring at Colton—perhaps surprised that Colton seemed a bit pink at the cheeks lately, and a bit fuller at the abdomen, which was evident with his slim frame and fitted button-down.

“Great, I’ll wait.” Colton whipped out his phone, presumably to check his email.

At seeing that Colton fully intended to stand there until Logan made good on his word, Logan gritted his teeth and pulled his laptop over. He hastily sent the file, punctuating the completion with a hard slap of the ENTER key.

Colton’s phone chimed and his face brightened. “Got it. Thanks, Lolo.” He gave a mocking wink as he left, closing the door behind him.

Logan grumbled under his breath and began to scribble at the forms he had been working on. He hoped that Marc would just leave; mind his fucking business for once.

Who was he kidding?

“Logan,” said Marc. “You didn’t?”

“What?” said Logan, feigning obliviousness. He pushed off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. At thirty-four, he had never felt burnt out in his career, not until now, with his project failure, and fucking Colton, and…and things were only going downhill.

“You swore you would never do it again.”

“It…was an accident,” said Logan, finally meeting Marc’s eyes. “I’d had a couple of drinks. The Christmas party last month. It wasn’t as though I took advantage of him.”

“But did you disclose…?”

“Disclose what?”

“How fucking fertile you are, Logan. We’ve been through this!”

Logan was grateful that the door was shut but he still wished Marc would decrease his volume. “I…I suggested a condom. He just—”

“Fuck, Logan!”

The Christmas party had been a disaster. Completely distraught over his launch failure, Logan had gotten more than a little tipsy. And as always, Colton had wandered over with his biting little remarks and thinly-veiled insults. Things had escalated from there and before Logan knew it, he had Colton in a janitor’s closet bent over a cleaning cart, and they were hate-fucking as Colton begged for it—deeper, harder—as they groaned and cursed, and babbled obscenities. Thankfully the ceaseless cycle of Jingle Bell Rock had drowned it all out.

“He was sober…” said Logan weakly. “It’s not like I—”

“It’s not a fucking excuse,” Marc snapped.

Logan leaned on his desk and pressed his palms against his eyes. He knew it was true. He was in the wrong and this whole situation was fucked.

Male pregnancy was ludicrously rare, with just a few dozen cases popping up around the world in the last half decade or so. Human evolution, apparently. Some people thought it was a great development, but others were disgusted or horrified by it. Some people didn’t even believe it was a real thing. They thought male pregnancy to be some conspiracy theory.

Logan could confirm that it was real.

Because Logan was…outrageously fertile. He could get any person pregnant, man or woman, regardless of the involvement of any contraceptive. In fact, Logan had never had a sexual encounter that hadn’t ended in pregnancy. But it was more than that. Logan usually impregnated people with…multiples. Big ones. Big healthy babies — usually twins, sometimes even triplets.

For a time in the past, Logan had actually been quite…spiteful about it. He’d had sex with people he couldn’t stand for the specific purpose of getting them pregnant. For a dark period in his life, it had been Logan’s depraved little way of eliminating his competitors at work. Seducing them. Knocking them up. Once the company saw their condition, they would be overlooked for promotions, then passively demoted. If they ever made it out of maternity leave, their job would not be waiting.

Logan could hardly count the number of kids he had out there. Unsurprisingly, none of the “mothers” wanted to have anything to do with him. He had expected demands for child support, but none ever came. Then again, most people preferred to keep this kind of thing under wraps. There was still a huge stigma surrounding male pregnancy. Additionally, Boddims was a family company and not exactly liberal. They weren’t big on homosexuality and even frowned on pregnancy out of wedlock. Combine that with the humiliation of bending down for your company rival and getting so knocked up you can’t even work. Most of the “mothers” had had to take early leave from work in the later stages. The pregnancies…well, they had been a lot.

Logan knew he was fucked up in the head. He had worked it out over years with his therapist, and had even been abstinent from sex for the past 38 months, but then…then Colton had just pushed him too far.

“Does he even know?” Marc questioned, his tone contemptuous. “Do you have any shame at all?”

“It—it wasn’t my fault—”

“This is exactly your MO, Logan. Things get hard at work, and you fuck up someone else’s career. Did you do this on purpose?

“He shouldn’t have messed with me,” Logan spat, but then he heard his own words. He pressed his lips but didn’t back down from glaring at Marc.

Marc shook his head in disbelief. “You need help,” he said as he stormed off and Logan was left to his thoughts.

-

“We could consider adding more high fructose corn syrup to the recipe. That shit’s addictive,” Pryce was saying at the latest meeting.

“God, how much sugar do these things need?” Rodriguez responded. “It’s already the main ingredient.”

“More syrup more money, we all know how this works.”

“Soon we’ll be selling Goop’ms in a bottle.”

“Good idea. Tom, write that down!”

There were chuckles. Colton was laughing, arms folded over his stomach, and it almost seemed protective, the gesture.

“More sugar and more fat, then. At this rate, we might as well start pumping caffeine into them as well,” Rodriguez grumbled.

“That might scare away the kiddos. Important demographic,” Colton responded. He casually popped another Goop’m into his mouth. Usually he limited himself to two, but that had to be his fifth pastry on Logan’s count. They were 300 calories a pop…but it was to be expected. The “mothers” were always hungry, always feeding, making the babies too big and too heavy.

Colton leaned back in his seat, unconsciously settling one of his hands against his very small bump. He didn’t even know he was pregnant but it was like his body knew. It was fascinating, how he was nurturing towards it, kind of subconsciously. Fascinating, and really…enticing.

The meeting wrapped. Everyone started gathering up their papers and pens, and Logan stood, buttoning his blazer. He steeled himself as he waited for the room to empty out. He was always last to leave. Well, him and Colton. Because Colton could never give him anything. Colton always had to be the best.

When it was just the two of them, Colton looked at him expectantly, raising his eyebrows and nodding to the door. “After you.”

Logan grimaced. “Actually, Colton, I wanted to inform you of something.” He was going to do the right thing for once. It was time to come clean.

Colton’s lips curled in amusement. “Really?” he said condescendingly. “What exactly can you do for me?”

Just the tone; the demeanor. Everything about Colton infuriated him. Logan felt his heart rate picking up. “I suggest you ease up on the samples. That shirt is getting a little tight on you.” He enjoyed the way Colton’s face flushed in anger. Colton opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with a retort.  Logan turned and walked off.

Logan tried to wind down as he drove home. He tried to feel some sympathy for Colton. He told himself to turn his car around, stop Colton in the parking lot, and do the right thing. Logan tried to feel some shred of remorse.

But he couldn’t. Not for Colton. Not when it felt this good. He would watch the smug asshole’s bravado slowly drain until he was a massive cow just keening to push out his multitude of fat babies. Then he would be out of Logan’s way, like all the others.

Logan thought of the trail of ruined careers he had left behind him. The men and woman whose lives he had destroyed.

Again he tried to feel remorse, but it just wasn’t there.

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