Faking, Part 10 (Patreon)

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Summary: Olivia is faking a pregnancy, and it has to be convincing. She  proceeds to  continuously stuff herself with food to keep up the  appearance. Contains: Female: weight gain, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, eventual pregnancy.

Previous Chapter

-

It was a month later and Olivia was truly struggling.

She fumbled beneath her girth, her huge belly perched in her lap. She was five months pregnant but looked due with quints. She was an absolute blimp!

And her belly was still malleable. It was like a ball of plump fat, the babies buried somewhere deep inside her. Everything was an awkward struggle. Even where she was seated, in her office, she could hardly reach her paperwork. Instead, her belly was pressing into the desk edge, creating a barrier and she could hardly navigate around it.

Though the vast majority of her weight was concentrated in her abdomen, Olivia’s face had gotten fuller, and her shoulders softer. Her thighs squished together now, and she was getting chubby all over.

She couldn’t believe this. She had transformed from a sexy, skinny little bachelorete to this voracious beast, both fat and pregnant.

Olivia had never wanted this. That had been the whole point of the charade. She had put so much effort into keeping up the lie, but then had somehow gotten pregnant anyway. She still cringed at the thought. She was going to have babies.

Yuck!

At least she had saved the office. After her public fainting spell at the meeting, the executives from corporate had backed off on any plans for layoffs and closure. It had been the smart choice on their part. Firing a heavily pregnant woman who had just collapsed on the job would have been a PR nightmare and probably the downfall of the whole company.

So she had succeeded at that, at least. Still, it didn’t feel like much of a consolation prize, given everything.

Olivia pushed her chair back, bracing her hands against the desk with a groan. She grunted as she tried to heave herself up.

The office door swung open. “Hey, what’s going on?” said Mike at seeing her red face. “Shit, is it time?”

“No,” Olivia retorted. Mike seemed to ask that every half-hour. Could she really blame him, though? Given her size? “Just help me get up,” Olivia whined.

Mike came over and hooked his elbows under her shoulders. It took about three minutes for the struggling duo to heave her to her feet.

Mike stumbled as Olivia’s belly bumped hard into him, rocking and heaving as she gasped for breath, hands gripping the back of her chair. Her huge breasts shivered and immediately began to leak into her custom-sized maternity blouse. A plump, round backside protruded out behind her.

Though it took up most of her torso and shelved her round breasts, her belly still felt awkwardly low. She cupped the bottom of it with her hand. It just took up so much space. She could no longer come close to encircling it with her arms. Olivia just couldn’t believe how far it spanned.

Only after she had managed to catch her breath did she really turn her attention to Mike.

He, in turn, was gazing at her belly, looking a little daunted, as he did lately. She remembered the awkward conversation they had had last month when she had revealed that they were having multiples—an indeterminate amount. She had skirted around the question of her due date, as per usual. And Mike had gone from excited to unsteady with the single conversation.

Olivia found her eyes trailing over his body. How had she never realized how good he looked in his button-downs and trousers?

“God Mike,” she mumbled.

But then, this pregnancy seemed to be sending her libido into overdrive. Almost without realizing it, Olivia reached out, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer — still, that frustrating barrier. She squished him hard into her belly, even though this created no contact between him and the rest of her. He gave a nervous chuckle, taking hold of her hands.

“I think I’m still worn out from last night,” he said, detaching her grip.

Seriously!? “I’m always worn out,” Olivia countered. “You turned me into a fucking elephant. Now step up.” She couldn’t believe this idiot was making her beg.

“Olivia, you were ready to discard me a few weeks ago.”

“Really, Mike!? You want to have this discussion?” Why this? Why now? She just wanted a quick fuck against the desk, not this queasy relationship drama.

Ever since the “multiples” revelation, Mike wasn’t all stupidly gung ho like before. Maybe the shock had electrically incited some functionality of his brain cells. Babies weren’t a delight. They were scary and burdensome.

“I’m just tired. We’ve been going at it like rabbits lately. And you know Sanders has me on that deadline for the Wright contract.”

“Just admit that I disgust you,” said Olivia bitterly as she glared down at her gigantic belly, clutching the sides of it is it heaved, out and in.

“Of course not. ‘Liv, you know what you do to me.”

She sniffed. Yeah right.

“I actually think it’s really hot.” He gave a weak smile. “Everyone looks at you and thinks I’m hung like a horse. They think I’m a monster down there.”

“Fuck off, Mike.” She didn’t know what annoyed her more, the idea that her body disgusted Mike, or the idea that it turned him on. She would have thought that her desire had cooled by now, but her groin was hot and tingling, and she just wanted it more. She couldn’t even reach to finger herself anymore, she was just too fucking huge. Fuck everything!

Mike looked sympathetic. “Well, if you need a quick fix —”

“Fuck off!” Olivia reiterated.

Hands up in surrender, Mike slowly backed away and left the office, like she was dynamite that was about to blow.

Olivia panted as she gripped the desk, her head swimming a little. The mere conversation had taken a lot out of her. But it was time to go home. She had an intimate date with a dildo.

-

Getting into her car was a process. She had to squish herself behind the steering wheel, seat pushed back as far as he could go, to the point that her feet could barely reach the pedals. Even then, it was perilously tight, uncomfortable, and probably a dangerous situation for driving. She knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to drive for much longer. The things she had done to her body were steadily leeching on her autonomy. Four months to go, Olivia thought irritably as she started the vehicle.

By the time she got home, her hunger for release had been replaced with the more standard type. She fell into her usual routine, despite that she was pleading with herself to stop it.

Olivia binge-ate. And not good stuff. Her addiction to unhealthy junk had only grown stronger, leaving her helpless to all the fattening foods her kitchen was fully stocked with by her own efforts and Mike’s too.

Sometimes she tried to distract herself; bury herself in work. But eating continued to be her main obsession.

She stuffed down pastries, cupcakes, and candies at every minute she could. Her freezer was full of cheap, quick-prepare processed foods like pizza rolls, chicken nuggets, french fries, biscuits, buns, and sausages.

If she wasn’t eating what was in the fridge, she was calling for takeout, ordering anything from pizzas, to burgers, to Chinese food. That week she was craving Mexican, and was frequently chowing down on nachos, burritos, and enchiladas. It was all so squishy, gooey, cheesy, and delicious. She couldn’t get enough of it.

And work, decidedly, wasn’t much of a distraction. There was little that could tear her attention away from stuffing herself to painful capacity, while gasping and sweating as her belly throbbed and shuddered. It was just routine. It was her true source of pleasure. She didn’t know why, but she needed this.

After her latest feast of cheap, fattening foods, Olivia was slumped on her couch, doubtful that she could get up. She was flushed and sweaty, panting heavily. Her hands wearily massaged her swollen belly as her gaze drifted to a package sitting by the front door. Another batch of baked goods from Nana. She would see to that later. A girl needed dessert.

-

Another month passed. Olivia’s panic was only growing.

Getting up and dressed was an exhausting process. All of her clothing had to be ordered online and custom-made. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t afford it. Yet it was a constant reminder of how unusual she had become and what a mess she’d made of her body. And things were only getting worse, as she steadily outgrew each and every outfit, one by one.

That day, Olivia put on a custom-made blouse and skirt, both of which hugged her body like a second skin. She kept the air conditioning in her apartment on the highest setting in her efforts not to sweat through her clothing before she even arrived to the office.

She heard a car honking outside. That would be Mike, here to pick her up in his SUV because her sedan wasn’t cutting it. No sedan was cutting it. Humiliatingly enough, Olivia was getting too big for most cars.

She half-waddled, half- staggered out of her bedroom, gripping onto walls, furniture, and whatever else she could get her hands on to take even a tiny bit of weight off of her heavy, weary body. She was gasping for breath by the time she reached the front door. She leaned there, gripping as much of herself as she could, groaning under the incredible weight and fullness. Even in bed, she had had snacks on hand. Chocolates, pastries, potato chips, and more. There was seldom a minute she wasn’t stuffing herself, and she certainly felt it.

Mike got out his car and hurried over. As always these days, he momentarily looked stunned at seeing her. It was as though, when he went home, his mind recalibrated what it accepted as normal—and that just wasn’t her. Olivia was unusual. Olivia was bizarre. Her condition was no approximation of ordinary, yet there was nothing for it. She had to see it through.

Mike snapped out of his reverie. “Hey, hey, how you doing?” He came to her side, wrapping his arm behind her, cupping her globe; offering what support he could.

“Massive,” she puffed out. “Thanks, by the way.” It felt good to pretend that this was his fault.

Mike gave a nervous chuckle as he helped her over to his car.

-

She was relying on Mike’s aid more and more lately. When they got in to work, trudging together, she gasped and grunted through the arduous task of making her way towards her office. People stared at her, as usual. Some looked sympathetic, and others, just perplexed or astonished. Despite that her colleagues saw her on a daily basis, even they couldn’t pass this off as typical.

She was actually doing great in terms of work performance. Clients were disturbed and amazed yet fearful of offending. Some were even fascinated by her outrageous condition.

“I think this deal is perfect for you,” Olivia said as she cornered Mr. Watkins that afternoon in her office. He was fully backed into a wall.

“I’m just not certain the contract suits my needs—”

“Of course it does,” Olivia cut him off. She thrust her belly out, so that it slammed into him, knocking the air out of his lungs while pinning him against the wall. “You have nothing to worry about, sir. I will personally ensure that you are well taken care of.”

Flushed and fumbling, Mr. Watkins gave a weak nod.

“Oh, they’re kicking. Feel the babies!” she demanded.

He put a shaky hand on her swell.

And that settled it. Another satisfied customer locked into a deal. Turner thought she was doing great and was giving her more clients than ever. She locked down contracts like no one else, and was bringing heaps of revenue into the company. Corporate would have to think twice before they tried to lay her off again.

-

In another month, Olivia could hardly even walk. With her back arched, and her hand cupping her side, she steadily navigated her belly forward in a slow, struggling waddle.

She couldn’t believe how huge she was.

As much as she enjoyed being coddled at work, it didn’t nearly offer the satisfaction  it used to. Lately, she wondered what all this was for. She had a nice house, car, and a supple income, but was any of that worthwhile now that she had altered her life and body so outrageously?

“Geez Olivia,” said Tina Saunders by the water cooler. “When are you having this thing?” It was probably the most professional way to inquire, ‘what the hell are you incubating in there, a hippo!?’

“Well, we’re having multiples,” Mike piped in unhelpfully beside them. It didn’t serve as much of an explanation, but good effort.

Tina just hummed as she peered at the both of them. She swallowed a mouthful of lukewarm water before staring some more.

Olivia was guzzling water, herself. Obviously this dumb machine wasn’t working properly. She was probably consuming algae or e. coli or some other nastiness only an office-place water cooler could offer. But if she wasn’t hungry, she was dying of thirst. Usually both. Olivia lowered her third cup, breathing heavily, belly heaving. The swell was no smaller than a beach ball.

She was Olivia, the frazzled mess. Olivia, the monstrous mother. Eugh, mother. Her? Just eugh. Olivia coughed.

Mike rubbed her aching back. “It’s a process, but we couldn’t be happier,” he supplied; another robotic platitude. He was always claiming to be thrilled instead of terrified.

“Can’t wait to get this thing out of me,” Olivia gasped, honestly.

This would solidify her reputation. Long forgotten was preggy-Peggy. She was ‘Liv, the perpetually-pregnant.’ Liv, the whale of a being.

“Well that’s just great!” said Tina, her voice tight and eyes darting around in fear.

“Great,” Mike agreed.

“Great,” Olivia hissed.

In actuality, this was hell.

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