Shark, Part 7 - 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

-

Colton ate the pastries. Even Logan could detect that heavy, silent expectation, to the point that it became awkward during the initial several moments that he didn’t consume them. Colton was rapidly starting to understand the expectations for him as long as Mr. Oharo was in charge. Oharo provided, and Colton ate, at least when he was in Oharo’s company. It was a give-and-take sort of thing. A truly demented arrangement.

Logan didn’t know if he should have felt concerned, or just bothered that he had nothing to offer, himself, not like these preggos. As such, he was becoming invisible. And worse — expendable.

“That’s the only thing I can’t bend on,” Mr. Oharo was saying. “Our dairy supplier comes with us. They are critical to the product.”

Logan thought it was obvious that the real “product” was the presence of the pregnant servers. All the patrons were happily goggling and flirting with them, sometimes trying to touch, only to get their hands playfully slapped aside. No one seemed to come here for the coffee.

“Exporting your coffee and tea products is already going to be an extensive project, so to incorporate your dairy supplier — it just might not be practical,” Colton said carefully. Then he noticed the croissant in his hand, and took another, grudging, bite.

“The supplier comes, or I’m afraid there is no deal here,” Mr. Oharo apprised with finality.

Colton’s face fell.

“I suppose we all have a lot to think about,” said Logan politically.

“Indeed. We should look at this with fresh eyes tomorrow,” said Oharo, then they all stood.

Mr. Oharo led them out of his office, and back into the open area of the café. Logan immediately noticed that Tim had returned from his fitting dilemma. And it seemed that Pablo had gotten a bit facetious in his solution.

Tim was wearing a button-down plaid shirt that didn’t nearly fit him. It was bunched atop the sharp curve of his abdomen. With the bottom two buttons undone, the shirt only fell as far as the top of his belly, the rest of the huge swell protruding out bare. The shirt was paired with some pants that couldn’t even button. It gave off the image that Tim had abruptly burst out of his clothes. The outfit was entirely stimulating, and Logan couldn’t tear his eyes away. Painted on the middle of Tim’s stomach, so his bellybutton sat inside the curve, was the number 5 in black.

Tim gave a grimace of a smile as he made his way over to a table, his waddle more pronounced than before. His belly accidentally bumped into the back of a customer’s head. He wasn’t used to how far it extended now. “H-hi, I’m Tim. I’ll be your…your server…today,” he managed, all red and flustered, looking both exhausted and mortified.

When the three men at the table swiveled to look at him, they all froze to gape.

“Jesus,” one breathed.

Tim struggled onward. “Can I start you off with —”

“What does the 5 mean?” one of the men blurted. “Are you — is it like—five babies?”

Tim’s smile fell, his blush deepening. “What? No, of course not. It m-means I’m about f-five months along.”

Their jaws dropped. Logan couldn’t blame them. Tim looked far past term. He looked like he was about to pop.

“I mean, I – I haven’t seen a doctor yet. Do you — maybe it could be more than one?” Tim said uneasily. He was so naïve. The customers continued to gawk, one giving a nervous laugh. Like they thought he had to be kidding or something.

Tim hiccuped, his belly puffing. He groaned, cupping the mass. “S-sorry. Baby’s been having a little growth spurt,” he said weakly, hugging his swell as it heaved and throbbed and expanded. “Mmmghhh…”

It was hypnotizing. It was the most erotic thing Logan had ever seen. It was crazy how slim Tim still was, compared to Cam. No tits to speak of. He had a lot of filling out to do.

“Thank god this is over,” Colton muttered under his breath as they got to the door.

“There is much more to discuss,” Mr. Oharo mentioned behind them.

Logan and Colton rotated.

“I propose we meet again tomorrow. To tune out the finer details.”

Logan honestly didn’t think he could handle much more of this. Beside him, Colton gave a pained smile.

“Of course,” Colton said.

“We’ll be here as long as it takes,” Logan added.

That settled it. Mr. Oharo shook both their hands firmly, before finally letting them leave the bizarre little venue.

Logan thought Colton’s shirt might have looked a little bit tighter as they got into the car waiting outside for them.

-

When Logan saw Tim at the cafe the next morning, Tim was wearing the same baggy overcoat he had arrived at work in previously, only it was different now. His condition was readily visible, even if Logan hadn’t known about it. The overcoat wasn’t hiding anything anymore. Somehow Tim was just that much bigger.

Another change was that there was no car or friends. Tim arrived alone, struggling out of a little sedan, as if trying to dislodge his enormous body.

“My roommates figured it out,” he muttered bitterly to another server as they headed to the back to change. “And they’re completely weirded out. Can’t really blame them.”

Tim’s fitting proved less dramatic than yesterday’s. When he came out, he was dressed in one of the jumpsuits, this one loose at the arms and legs but hugging his belly tightly.

Cam, meanwhile, had a tight tank top stretched over his beach ball of a belly, his cantaloupe-sized tits protruding generously against the low V-neck. This was paired with some tight pants that showed off his round hips and ass. He was truly struggling as he approached tables at a slow waddle, his face dewy and flushed. His belly would give erratic tremors and he would fight back grunts, his jaw clenched as he tried to smile and look sweet for all the customers goggling him. Cam almost looked as though he was in labor as he clutched his back and groaned and his belly trembled visibly. But he wasn’t. It was just the strain. It was like his uterus couldn’t take anymore. Mr. Oharo was watchful, throwing Cam stern looks, as he ushered Logan and Colton to the back, and his office.

The negotiations grew tedious. There wasn’t anything discussed that they wouldn’t have been able to sort out through their legal teams and email correspondence. It was almost like Mr. Oharo was dragging things out.

“And what kind of location were you envisioning?” said Oharo. He took a careful sip of tea. “Of course, an urban setting is fine, though anything too busy might degrade the customer experience.”

Logan wasn’t sure what kind of experience Oharo thought this western branch was going to facilitate. As far as Logan saw things, they were just here for the brand logo, and maybe some coffee beans. They certainly couldn’t run the same sort of — operation– back in the west.

“We already have a place in mind. It’s nearby our corporate offices. Of course, all venues in the city have person limits, legal capacities and such, so I don’t think things would get especially chaotic, granted our branch is as popular as this one – and I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. Your product is truly impressive, sir,” said Logan.

Like during the last meeting with Oharo, tea and pastries were provided. It was an even larger spread than last time. At first, Colton picked at it, reluctantly. Yet his reluctance seemed to correspond directly with Oharo getting colder or more difficult in the negotiations.

“No, I don’t think that would work it all,” Oharo muttered, frowning.

Colton irritably stuffed a donut between his lips. His mouth was closed, but he was veritably chomping. Then he grabbed an eclair, to wash it down. Then a macaron, and so on, just shoving pastries into his mouth as politely as possible.

“Or maybe it could.” Mr. Oharo brightened.

Shameless.

“Of course, our branch could have its own occupancy limits, if you would find that more suitable,” said Logan.

“Yes, let’s make sure this all goes into the contract,” said Mr. Oharo as Colton continued to work his way through the plate.

Logan hadn’t had breakfast and some of those scones looked delicious, but he knew better than to touch them. These were all for Colton. So he averted his eyes and kept up the meaningless discussion of contract minutia. God, what was he doing with his life?

“That may be enough for today,” said Mr. Oharo after another hour of questioning the brands of industrial espresso machines Logan and Colton found ideal for running the branch.

Logan snapped out of his reverie. “Right.” He glanced at his watch. There was still time to hop in on that conference call about the Gibson deal.

Beside him, Colton looked uncomfortable and lethargic, owing largely to the three plates of rich pastries he had managed to devour over the course of the discussion. Uncharacteristically, he was slumped in his seat. His hands hovered, but were unwilling to cup his belly. He had always been a slim guy and not much of an eater. Now, he was stuffed. But maybe he would get used to it. Logan felt a thrill at the thought.

“I hope you’re not in too much of a rush to get out of Asia,” said Oharo with humor. “There are still a few things I would like to talk about — perhaps, tomorrow?”

Colton and Logan stared him. There was no way, just no fucking way —

“Of course,” Colton blurted.

Because, in the end, it wasn’t their say. They were just corporate monkeys, and they did what they were told, or they would pay with their careers.

“Excellent,” Mr. Oharo said as he stood. Logan and Colton followed, Colton a bit belatedly, and grimacing slightly. “I have to meet with some vendors, but I trust you can see yourselves out,” he said as he walked them to the door.

“Yes sir,” said Colton weakly.

“Looking forward to tomorrow,” Logan added, forcing a grin while doing some air-boxing for no conceivable reason.

As an amused Oharo walked off, Logan and Colton exchanged looks of indignation.

“I’ll brief Ike,” said Logan stiffly. “He’ll want us to —”

“God, do I have to?”

He was cut off by a pair of employees talking by the breakroom a little down the hallway. Belatedly, Logan noticed that it was Tim and that guy with the gigantic rack.

“This is just getting insane,” Tim continued weakly. He was leaning back on the wall, hands cupping his huge belly that was stretching out the speedsuit practically pasted against him.

“Well Cam’s just about to fucking blow,” Jugs retorted, his round honeydew-sized tits bobbing in the bandeau he had on. “Mr. Oharo needs you to step it up, kid.”

“I can’t, Jay, I’m already so big!”

“We both know you need this job, Tim. And I know about that little bonus you just got. Heard it was close to five figures? Reed saw you browsing cars on your phone.”

Tim hissed a curse, dropping his head back against the wall.

“So what’s the plan? You giving it back?” Jugs—Jay—taunted. “Calling it quits? Committing fully to that Lit degree you’ve been working on?”

“Fuck this,” Tim groaned, hands massaging his swollen belly.

“Get in here,” said Jay as he pulled Tim into the break room.

Logan was magnetized. He began to follow, wanting to see what the two would get up to.

“Let’s get out of here,” Colton grumbled as he walked off in the opposite direction.

Logan froze in his tracks. With an obscene amount of effort, he did an about-face, and followed him.

-

“How important is this deal anyway?” said Colton darkly the next morning as he glared out the car window. Their driver was just pulling up to OHO’s.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. He threw Colton a look, not sure if he was kidding.

They had been working on this for ages. They had kissed the asses of countless executives, endured never-ending lectures and meetings with droning overseers, pored over pages on protocol in the tiniest of fonts, gone over facts and figures with no less than a-gazillion dissenters, made dozens of phone calls across the planet during late-nights at the office, just to ensure that it was them, Logan and Colton, who would get on that plane, who would go to Asia, who would meet with Oharo, who would close this fucking deal.

“What?” said Logan, in the most tempered of responses.

“I’m over this,” spat Colton.

“Over what, exactly?”

“This whole thing.” He motioned vaguely at the venue. “It’s disgusting.”

“And?”

“And, maybe we should walk.”

Logan felt his heart rate picking up. He tried to remain calm. “You want to back out of this deal just because you can’t keep down a few fucking donuts?”

“He’s acting like I’m one of his fucking employees,” Colton snapped, finally turning to glare at Logan. “It’s disgusting! He’s treating me like a pig or something. This shit can’t be legal.”

“Is he blackmailing you? Coercing you? Asking for sexual favors? No. So stop being a crybaby.”

Colton looked furious. “Then why don’t you do it.”

“I don’t fit the profile, sweetheart.”

“I see the way you look at all the servers,” seethed Colton. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re disgusting. You’re a goddamn freak. Did you do this to me on purpose, Logan? I always knew you were a piece of shit, but this just takes the cake—”

Things were escalating quickly, adrenaline getting the best of both of them. “You’re trying to pin your pregnancy on me again? Fuck, Colton, maybe if you weren’t such an easy whor–”

“I swear to god, I’m gonna take this straight to Rog—”

“If you don’t suck it up and eat the goddamn –”

There was a tapping on the car window. Both Logan and Colton froze, looking outside to see Mr. Oharo standing at the curb. They stared mutely for far too long, before Colton gathered himself enough to roll down the window.

“You didn’t see me waiting to welcome you,” Mr. Oharo chuckled at them good-naturedly. “Sorry, I saw you were having a discussion. Did I interrupt?

“No!” said Logan far too quickly. He cleared his throat. “Not at all. We were just discussing—some figures.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Oharo opened the car door for Colton, who nearly fell out, but Oharo helped him to his feet. “Then let’s get straight to business.”

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