Shark, Part 3 - 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.

Previous Chapter 

-

“I’m pregnant,” Colton told him, his voice rigid.

Logan contained his thrill of hearing it aloud. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known. He faked a laugh, but then trailed off, now feigning shock. “I thought that only happened to freaks—I mean—not that you’re…” He coughed. “Who’s the unlucky guy?”

Colton grinded his teeth.

“You can say goodbye to that promotion,” Logan went on. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to rub it in. “There’s no way Roger’s going to tolerate that sort of thing.”

Colton scowled.

“Unless…you think you can get rid of it? Can they even do that with men?”

No. They couldn’t. Of course, Logan already knew this. Male pregnancy was too new, too poorly understood. Abortion wasn’t an option.

“God Colt, Roger’s gonna have a conniption.” Roger was the company’s geriatric CEO. Both Logan and Colton spent many a day fervidly kissing the geezer’s ultra-conservative ass. “This is a family company. You know it’ll get out.”

The redness of Colton’s face was deepening in color. But somehow he kept his cool. “It’s yours.”

Logan had been prepared for this. He kept his expression perfectly controlled. “You must be insane.”

Colton looked ready to maim him.

“We hooked up once, and I barely remember it. And I’m not a frea—well, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but there’s no way I sired whatever demon-spawn you’ve got incubating in there.”

“We would have to wait for a DNA test.” Colton appeared thoughtful. “But I guess we can mediate things with HR in the meantime. Keep everything in-house. How does that sound?”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek. No one had ever threatened that before. Inter-office relationships were strictly prohibited, and Roger certainly wouldn’t be happy about all the gayness going on behind the scenes. This could cost them both their jobs. It seemed that if Colton went down, he was taking Logan with him.

“You’re bluffing,” Logan accused.

“Want to find out?”

Logan inhaled, steeling himself. “You could get hitched,” he suggested. Colton could find some sorry schmuck to play house with. Sure, ‘gay and pregnant’ was really, really bad, but ‘gay and pregnant out of wedlock’ was even worse. It just painted a sordid picture in conservative minds. Colton could get married, play politics, preach tolerance, and maybe even delude himself into thinking he could hold onto his career with such a wholesome charade.

But even if all that inexplicably succeeded, the true nature of the pregnancy would make itself known. Colton would soon find himself overwhelmed by his own swollen body. With too many babies — on top of the added relationship drama — he would eventually have to bow out.

“Or you…” Colton said with an angry smile, “can figure out how you’re going to rectify this situation. Because if I’m going down, I will come after your career, your money, and your reputation. I will light your whole life on fire. And don’t think I’ll stop there. I like to dig, Logan. There isn’t a person at this company who doesn’t have seven fucking skeletons in his closet. I’m going to pick your whole life apart and I can’t wait to see what I find.”

Logan swallowed. “What’s your skeleton?” he inquired, a bit facetiously.

“You’re seeing it right now,” Colton responded, moving closer as he stared Logan down, despite being shorter. Colton moved so close that his nose nearly touched Logan’s. Logan unconsciously stepped away, his back hitting the wall. “I’m homicidal,” Colton assured.

Logan gulped.

Then Colton tugged down his shirt, turned, and walked off, leaving Logan to his reeling thoughts.

-

Logan fucking hated him.

He thought about how passionately and hatefully he had fucked Colton that night. Logan thought of the huge babies Colton was growing in consequence. Fifteen-pounders. They ran in Logan’s family.

What if he finds out about the others?

No, that was impossible. Even Logan could hardly find them; could hardly keep up on the whereabouts of his countless children.

Still, Colton’s threat lingered in the back of his mind. This could be a problem.

Logan might be fucked.

It was a couple weeks later, and they were in Asia.

Logan smiled brightly through the jet lag even though he felt like hot garbage and was on his third cup of coffee at the late hour of 10AM.

Colton didn’t appear any better. He had dark shadows under his eyes and looked deranged in his fatigue. He was wearing one of those loose suits he had taken to lately, the ones that got him odd glances back home at the office. It wasn’t the most tidy look, but Logan supposed it helped hide things. It was interesting to see Colton’s steady evolution. He used to burst onto every scene demanding everyone’s attention. Nowadays he tried to melt into the walls, hiding his form, his growing form. He had faded from the front lines and he was not happy about it.

It wasn’t as though Logan’s career had taken substantial strides forward. He was here, wasn’t he?

“This can’t be the place,” Logan remarked as he pushed down his sunglasses, looking out the tinted car window. He had expected a high-rise…not this.

It was turning out to be the business trip from hell. Over the past forty-eight hours he had traveled across the fucking globe, seated side-by-side with his corporate rival and the veritable antichrist as Colton fidgeted, cursed, muttered obscenities, and incubated Logan’s babies. There was seldom a moment that Colton wasn’t sending hateful looks Logan’s way. Even worse, Colton was always wearing these oversized suits, hiding his form, distorting everything. Logan was frustrated, tired, and frankly, over Asia.

Ike wanted the two of them to partner together on this meeting for some unknown fucking reason. Maybe because they had both agreed on the idea of gearing the product towards pregnant people. There were few demographics left to lure. The Health-Conscious weren’t bending. Better to hook them while they were pregnant, vulnerable, and craving things as nasty as Goop’ms. Then they could push it onto their kids and spouses. This shit was a fucking contagion.

Still, it was hard to see the relevance of this idiosyncratic Asian magnate. Maybe these potential new retail establishments would incorporate pumping rooms and baby-changing stations. Logan scoffed at the thought.

Yes, the goal here was to woo some rising CEO, Ben Oharo, into a partnership that left options for buyout later. The guy owned a popular coffee brand that had about fifteen shops scattered throughout Asia, and the business was growing at ludicrous rates.

“Oho’s Café,” the driver announced curtly. “This is the first and most popular location. Mr. Oharo would like you to experience the brand.”

“Experience?” said Colton dubiously as he too peered out the window. “God, this must be some coffee.”

The line was going out the door and around the side of the building. Clearly Mr. Oharo was doing something right.

As they got out of the car and approached the establishment, Logan couldn’t help noticing that most of the people waiting in line were men, many of them wearing merchandise. There were T-shirts, hats, and socks pulled up to their knees, all with a cartoon cow logo and the word ‘OHO’S’ slapped on them. Several of patrons were clutching thermoses and mugs with the cow logo as well. It was clear that Mr. Oharo had built a strong brand and a very dedicated following. A glance at Colton told Logan that his colleague was equally impressed.

Ignoring the line, Logan and Colton walked up to the broad double doors that led inside. Passing by the people waiting in the queue, they pushed their way through the free door, into a large, cozy venue, where Logan’s legs abruptly stopped working.

Colton blinked hard several times. “What the f—”

There were pregnant dudes all over the place! They were wearing formfitting speedsuits and wrestling singlets, or tight tank tops with cargo pants. Some were wearing looser jumpsuits in a weirdly blue-collar aesthetic. But then Logan would notice the zippers pushed low, revealing bandeaus against plump, juicy tits. Tits on men.

It admittedly wasn’t anything Logan hadn’t seen before, but it had been a damn while. And it had never been at this concentration. He’d never seen two pregnant men in one place at one time. He hadn’t even known this many of them existed.

The outfits — uniforms — were all the same gray/blue color, complete with a bright white name tag.

Most of the tables and booths were packed with patrons, all of them bright and merry, grinning and laughing. They beckoned and teased the pregnant wait staff, giving them tips at every opportunity.

The pregnant men, in turn, were friendly and flirty as they flaunted their man-tits and round bellies. It was the most strange and wonderful thing Logan had ever seen. Suddenly he realized that he very much liked Asia. He began to work out the logistics of just moving here.

“You must be Mr. Graham and Mr. Stevens.”

Logan was startled out of his reverie by a server with an amused smile and a plump swell which he cupped absently as he appraised them. He looked as though he was seven months or so into his pregnancy, a pair of B-cups sitting perky on his chest.

“W-We—y-yes,” Colton stammered. Eyes darting around, he looked positively appalled.

“Mr. Oharo is waiting for you. Right this way.” The server turned and walked off with surprising grace given his size.

Logan and Colton looked at each other then belatedly followed the server to a large round table right in the middle of the bustling café. A middle-aged man in an unimposing suit was standing there, waiting.

Logan shot out his arm. “Logan Graham,” he blurted before he could forget his own name.

The man simply nodded, leaving Logan’s outstretched hand ignored.

“Colton Stevens,” said Colton quickly. “You must be Mr. Oharo. It is an honor, sir.” He gave a little bow.

Another nod. “Please, take a seat.”

Gratefully, Logan did so. The chair was pleasantly soft as he shifted, trying to cool down.

A different server, who was arbitrarily wearing a pair of black costume cat ears, came over to pour them tea. “Meow,” he greeted. The guy was flat-chested but had a cute little belly bulging in the speedsuit stretched over his angular body. Yet another server came by with a large basket of pastries. Colton gingerly reached out and lifted one of the treats, almost as a diversion as his eyes continued to dart around. He was attempting to make sense of everything; trying to temper his reaction.

Logan was just trying to get his dick to relax.

“Go ahead. Try it.” Mr. Oharo nodded to the tea.

Logan belatedly acknowledged his beverage. “T-thank you,” he stammered as he cradled the hot teacup. When he took a sip, his eyelids sank on their own. Though he typically took his tea black, he couldn’t deny that this was delicious. It was not excessively sweet and had a very creamy, almost buttery undertone that warmed him to the core. “Amazing.” Logan had never had anything like it.

“Indeed.”

Logan opened his eyes. Mr. Oharo who was watching him with a sort of wariness.

“Our tea is the best in the world. No one else comes close,” the older man said.

It was a bold claim.

“You have a lot of pride in your product,” said Colton, who seemed cooler now. Focused and relaxed. He took a sip of the tea, his eyes going wide as he too discovered its palatability.

Logan threw a glance around the café. He still wasn’t 100% sure that this whole set-up wasn’t some insane joke, but they were professionals. He got back on task. “The tea is great. I’d love to learn more about it…or is it a secret recipe? Do you use a local herb here?”

“Our most popular teas incorporate human breast milk.”

Colton choked on his latest sip as Logan froze. For the second time, this obscure entrepreneur had snatched their composure away effortlessly.

“Pardon?” Logan squeaked.

“Yes, it is all natural. We have our producers follow very strict and specific diets. Impressive, yes?”

“It’s — g-great.”

Mr. Oharo turned his attention to Colton, who was still coughing a bit. At noticing the man’s gaze, Colton froze, looking panicked. Then he overcorrected, downing the rest of his tea. “W-wonderful,” he spluttered.

“I am aware,” said Mr. Oharo. He was neither eating nor drinking, only surveying them, really. “Things are doing quite well with my business. Which begs the question--what could you possibly offer me?”

Proposing a deal. This, at least, was familiar territory. “An expansion into Western markets,” said Logan, his eyes momentarily straying to a passing blonde guy with cleavage bulging generously against his tight little singlet. “You’ve been making waves here in Asia, and you certainly caught our boss’s attention. You have strong brand recognition, and both our companies can capitalize on that. We want to offer you a partnership—your beverages, our pastries. It’s a perfect match. Boddims has been looking to enter the café space for a while.”

“Your company may have higher production, but your quality couldn’t possibly compare —”

“We sent samples,” Colton cut in. “Have they arrived?” He was trying to redirect. Mr. Oharo seemed all but interested in their proposition and Logan was starting to wonder if Ike had forced this meeting. One wrong move, and this whole trip would have been made for nothing. Logan desperately needed a win since his last project had fallen through. A partnership with Mr. Oharo could even facilitate the Asian expansion plan.

Logan glanced at Colton, knowing that he was just as hungry for a deal as Logan was. Colton was looking for anything to make himself less expendable if his pregnancy got out. Scratch that. When it got out.

Mr. Oharo sighed. “I appreciate you two coming here, however I just don’t think you have much to —”

Colton started taking off his blazer.

The loose, ugly, amorphous thing was doffed button by button, until Colton had pushed it off his shoulders, and Logan’s eyes were straying again.

Colton had grown. Logan was surprised by just how much Colton had grown, his rounded belly stretching against his button-down, which seemed a bit sloppy for Colton given his pay-grade. Why not upgrade to a paternity piece?

But then Logan realized that it was a paternity shirt, something Colton had to have purchased recently, which meant that he was already outgrowing it. He was growing faster than he could keep up with things.

That realization was terribly, terribly arousing. Logan found himself entranced by Colton’s cute little bump.  Colton looked as though he was midway through the second trimester even though he was still in the first. God, he was growing.

Mr. Oharo trailed off, as he too was staring at the swell. Finally, he tore his gaze away, meeting Colton’s bright, determined eyes.

“I…” Oharo lost his train of thought. “Well…yes, that would seem appropriate. We should sample this product of yours before we make any decisions.”

Oharo gave a vague wave of his hand, and several of the pregnant servers appeared instantly, carrying with them plates piled with — with fat-cakes. The Boddims products looked cheap and out-of-place, every variety stacked high in artistic arrangements. The Goop’ms were, as always, the star of the show, taking up a whole platter in a pyramid of pastries. In only seconds, the table was covered.

Logan had no idea of how the slim Mr. Oharo intended to eat all this crap, but then the Asian magnate gave another hand gesture, and a new server stepped out from behind the counter. And he…

Logan stared. He did not know how he had failed to notice this guy before now.

Maybe the high counter had managed to hide the…the extent of things, but...

He was huge.

People tripped and stumbled to get out of the server’s way. His belly was wider than the rest of his torso, and it preceded him as he moved carefully through the establishment.

The guy was young and good-looking, dirty blonde hair styled perfectly. He had round C-cup breasts and a massive belly – likely the biggest one Logan had ever seen! The guy looked as though he was overdue with triplets as he waddled over, clutching his mass with both hands. The jumpsuit he was wearing was practically pasted against his belly. His face was flushed and dewy with strain, back arched for balance, as he finally made it to the table.

Mr. Oharo quickly got up, pulling out a chair for him. “Cam will sample,” Oharo said as the guy eased himself down with a strained smile.

“It’s a p-pleasure to meet you,” the guy, Cam, gasped out as he blushed.

Colton sat there, his jaw hanging.

And Logan was about to explode.