Secret Obsession, Part 1 (Patreon)

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Summary: Though he knows it is odd, Sebastian desperately wants breasts. Through diet, drug treatments, massages, and more, he develops C-cups, and he thinks the size is perfect. They're not too extravagant, and he doesn't mind the stares he gets. He couldn't be happier. But someone in Sebastian's life is really turned on by Sebastian's breasts, and isn't satisfied, he wants them bigger. He proceeds to secretly drug Sebastian, and Sebastian has no idea why his breasts are suddenly starting to grow again. Contains: Male: breast expansion, weight gain, lactation, eventual pregnancy.

This is a multi-chapter collaboration with Belka-Dog. Be sure to check out more of Belka-Dog's art on DeviantArt and Patreon.

-

A lot of Sebastian’s spare time was spent hunched over his phone looking at online pornography or just nude photos of women. He was entirely obsessed. Which some might find odd, given that he was homosexual. But it wasn’t the women themselves he craved. He was envious of them, more specifically, he was envious of their chests.

Sebastian watched a large, round pair of breasts jiggle in the video he was presently perusing, the swaying of the mounds nearly hypnotizing. Sebastian sighed. They were just beautiful.

Someone cleared their throat. Sebastian nearly jumped out of his skin. He ripped off his headphones as he looked up at the person standing in front of his desk. As he shoved his phone into a drawer, Sebastian was grateful that his visitor didn’t appear to have seen what Sebastian had been watching.

“Please don’t enter my office without permission,” said Sebastian, flustered.

“Er…I knocked, professor,” responded the young woman, looking both confused and annoyed.

“Right...” Sebastian fidgeted with a pencil.

Though Sebastian was a college professor, he wasn’t much older than most of the students he lectured. Sebastian had been considered a young prodigy throughout his own education, having gotten his PhD at only twenty-three. He had landed his professorship immediately afterwards, and now, at twenty-five, he was on the tenure-track at an elite university where he spent his days blathering about his favorite literary works. Things could have certainly been worse.

“Well then wait for me to answer,” Sebastian responded peevishly.

The girl rolled her eyes. Sebastian thought her name was Jane, or something.

“What do you want, exactly?” Sebastian asked.

“I have a question about my essay.” She whipped out a thick stack of rumpled papers. “Do you mind going over it with me?”

Sebastian nodded, motioning for her to sit down in the chair opposite his desk, as he tried to focus on the problematic excerpt she was pointing out, and not the plump pair of breasts heaving beautifully on his phone.

-

Sebastian’s obsession with breasts went beyond just his visual consumption of them.

He wanted a pair of his own.

Sebastian groaned as he rubbed more of the medicated cream into his chest. He was sitting up in bed, finishing his nightly routine. He had gotten the cream online, off the dark web. It was only legal in one country in the south pacific, but he had heard it worked wonders, at least from people online.

He had already choked down another of those huge cattle pills he consumed daily. He knew it was a longshot, but the supplement was said to cause mammary growth in animals, and honestly, Sebastian was willing to try anything. Anything that would get him even a tiny bit closer to his dreams.

And maybe it was working.

His chest definitely felt softer and fuller than it had a couple weeks ago. His latest measurements revealed that his chest was a couple centimeters thicker than it had been previously.

Breathing heavily, Sebastian finally lowered his hands to look down at himself. It wasn’t much. Anthills, maybe. But it was something. He had worked hard, so he would take it.

-

Another week passed and Sebastian was getting impatient. He doubled his dose of the cattle pills, now taking two a day—one in the morning and one at night. He knew it was inadvisable, at least according to the drug label. Plus, the stuff wasn’t even meant for humans.

But after Sebastian’s recent inkling of progress, he’d had the faintest taste of success, and he wanted more. He wanted it desperately. Sebastian needed full, natural tits of his own.

His boss, Diane, had a nice pair. Full and perky. Ds, he estimated. He admired the way they tented out the blouse she had on.

“Sebastian? You with me?”

Sebastian snapped out of his reverie. He quickly raised his eyes to meet Diane’s, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Yes, of course.”

“If I hadn’t known you were gay, I’d think you were staring at my chest,” Diane said, amused.

Sebastian sputtered. “Of course n-not — I, er — I’m on a new medicine. M-makes me a little spacey.”

“Don’t worry about it, Seb. Just give me a call after you’ve had time to look over your new class schedule. Let me know if there are any conflicts.”

“Thanks Diane,” Sebastian said, accepting the folder from her.

“See you Monday.”

Sebastian went home.

-

The extra pill was working.

Sebastian was still massaging his chest whenever he could, and not just massaging, but cupping. He had something to cup. He could now grip into pump flesh that was so tender he couldn’t help groaning. He couldn’t believe how sensitive they were getting.

Sebastian breathed heavily as he looked himself over in his bathroom mirror. His nipples had undeniably grown bigger. And his chest was fuller. Curvier, even plump. Whenever he had dared to consider them breasts, he had to silently reprimand himself. The pessimism kept him safe, kept him from being disappointed. Don’t count your eggs before they’ve hatched.

But finally, Sebastian couldn’t deny it anymore. So he took that vital step.

He purchased a bra.

With shaking hands, Sebastian slowly pulled it on, adjusting the straps, hooking it closed. Somehow, some way, the mounds on his chest fit it perfectly.

B-cups.

-

They surged.

In another two weeks, Sebastian had a pair of C-cup breasts sitting on his chest.

Breasts. Sebastian had breasts.

And they were perfect. Round and perky. As beautiful as the many pairs he obsessed over on his phone, if not more so. They weren’t small, they were a good size, a healthy size. Not too big, and not insignificant. They were fucking perfect, and this transformation was beyond Sebastian’s wildest dreams.

“I want you all to have chapters twelves through twenty-three read by Monday,” Sebastian announced to he stood. Students frowned or grimaced, but they did not verbalize their unhappiness. This was college, after all. “Enjoy your weekends.” As Sebastian stuffed some papers into his briefcase, he gave a grimace of his own, stiffening slightly.

“Professor, I just have one question about the midterm—” started a pimply guy as he approached the desk.

“I actually have an appointment,” Sebastian cut him off. “Why don’t you shoot me an email?”

The student frowned. “Yeah. Sure.”

Sebastian left the room in a quick stride, making a beeline for a staff bathroom at the end of the hall. He locked the door behind him.

Breathing heavily, he unbuttoned his shirt, down to the compression vest he had on, that decidedly flattened things, making his physique a bit more “classroom appropriate.”

Sebastian quickly wrenched the foul device off, gasping in relief as his perky breasts were freed of confinement. He groaned in pleasure, arching his back.

He didn’t know why he did it. But he was young, very young for his position. Sebastian felt like there was so much less he could get away with than his peers. Everyone was always scrutinizing him, waiting for him to mess up. Sebastian ironed his underpants and de-linted his socks. He kept not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on his clothing, not a scuff on his shoes, not a button undone— he had to be perfect at all times, lest people start throwing around terms like ‘unprofessional,’ and ‘immature.’

So yes, showing up to work with some perky C-cups just wasn’t an option for Sebastian, at least not before he got his tenure.

Sighing, Sebastian retrieved a baggy sweater from his briefcase, and pulled it on. It looked sloppy, but class was over, and the parking lot was just down the hall. The sweater hid things in a way that his button-down shirts didn’t, and without the need of the compression vest.

Sebastian walked out of the bathroom and headed for the lot. At least it was the weekend.

-

Though Sebastian was perfectly content to walk around his house braless, while enjoying the very evocative sensation of his nipples rubbing into his loose shirts and tank tops, he equally enjoyed trying on new outfits to dress his breasts up. He often put on bras, bandeaus, and lingerie, admiring himself and taking pictures. Sometimes he tried on low cut tops in various styles, and could hardly believe how sexy he looked.

That evening a new bra arrived, and as Sebastian tried it on, he couldn’t help noticing the way he was overflowing the cups, the bra pinching into his breast flesh. This piece was slightly undersized.

Sebastian hesitated, then decided to try on a couple of his older bras, to the same effect. He had outgrown them all.

“You babies are still growing,” he muttered in amusement, cupping his tits. It was understandable. He’d only stopped the cream and pills a couple days earlier, but the drugs were likely still in his system. Just some residual growth, and Sebastian didn’t mind it too much.

But as they were, Sebastian thought his breasts were the perfect size. He wouldn’t mind any slight fluctuations, but they looked great on his slim body. He didn’t want them to be too extravagant or awkwardly large.

Sebastian doffed the bra and turned his attention to another outfit. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself, smiling nervously. He pulled on the tight, low-cut, black tank top that showed a very generous deal of cleavage. Next he donned some tight black pants, a little bit of his midriff left exposed by the low waist. Though he couldn’t exactly show his developments off at work, it was due time for Sebastian to let loose. He was headed to his favorite gay bar where his tits were going to make their big debut.

Despite himself, Sebastian pulled a loose blazer around his shoulders as he left the house and drove off.

He found parking relatively fast, but it took him almost an hour to leave his vehicle. His heart was racing, his throat tight. He kept going back to the rearview mirror, fiddling with his dark brown hair, which fell handsomely in his eyes. Maybe he should take off his glasses? But he didn’t have his contacts on hand. What had he been thinking? Everyone already thought he was a nerd. Now he was a nerd with tits. Sebastian huffed a terrified laugh, then swallowed.

I should have pre-gamed, he thought, then he paused, and hastily opened his glovebox.

“That idiot,” Sebastian mused fondly as he saw the mini bottles of tequila stashed there. His friend, Jay, must have left them the last time they had gone out together, over a month ago. Whispering a silent thank you to Gay-Jesus, Sebastian unscrewed one of the bottles and downed it. He reached for a second one.

A couple minutes later, Sebastian had shoved off his blazer and was standing in line. The bouncer caught his eye and motioned for Sebastian to cut ahead. Sebastian stood there grinning stupidly as the bouncer gave him a long, intrigued onceover.

“Go ahead. No cover,” the bouncer opened the rope barrier.

Then Sebastian was just dancing. Rocking and swaying, enjoying the sensation of his tits bouncing. He let the music consume him, the crowd throbbing around him. He didn’t realize that his eyes were closed until he felt someone touch his shoulder. Sebastian looked up.

“Hey.” The handsome stranger spun him, then they danced closely, Sebastian smiling inanely. He really was buzzed.

“Hey,” Sebastian responded close, lips brushing the taller man’s ear.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Sebastian nodded and allowed the stranger to lead him to the bar. They got two gin and tonics, then lingered there, eying each other.

“You look good,” the stranger told Sebastian. “I like your tits.” Subtle.

Sebastian’s face flushed. “Thanks! I — like them too,” he laughed. Sebastian couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. Living this moment. With a perky pair of boobs in a low-cut top.

“You trans?”

Sebastian sobered a little. “Uh—sure,” he said, in lieu of a better explanation. Sebastian was not transgender, but it was rather loud and dark to be getting into an in-depth conversation on gender identity with a stranger.

“I dig it.”

Sebastian almost rolled his eyes. Gender identity wasn’t an adornment or accessory that warranted someone’s admiration, it was just what it was. The reality of things. Not that Sebastian was trans. Wait, what was this conversation?

“I’m not trans,” Sebastian finally verbalized, his voice giddy with inebriation. “I’m completely cis. So you really like them?” He cupped his breasts.

The stranger wiped away his puzzled expression with a smirk. Apparently the conflict between Sebastian’s appearance and gender was not a deal-breaker. “They look great. And they definitely make you stand out.”

It was his first time sharing his new body with the world and Sebastian was pleasantly surprised with the response so far.

“My name’s Mike,” the stranger added, finishing off his drink.

“Call me Sebastian,” he responded, face warm. He threw a glance around the club. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right there.” Mike pointed at a door adjacent to them.

“Lead the way.”

Again that puzzled look, quickly followed by a wicked smile. “Let’s go.”

After a grueling two minutes of shoving their ways through drunken bodies, Sebastian and Mike were crammed in a bathroom stall, fumbling, touching, and kissing. Sebastian gasped when Mike roughly grabbed his tits, his dick standing to attention. He hadn’t realized that another’s contact with them would feel so fucking amazing.

“Can I see them?” Mike asked hoarsely, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Yeah,” Sebastian responded weakly.

Then Mike was sliding Sebastian’s shirt off, exposing soft, plump breasts and hard, pink nipples.

“They’re fuckin’ perfect,” Mike said, swooping down to kiss them.

“Ooohhhhh…” Sebastian’s eyes fluttered, fingers desperately gripping onto Mike’s shoulders as his knees grew weak. “F-fuck,” he whimpered.