Faking, Part 11 (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

-

“Please, doctor, you have to induce me,” Olivia pleaded at her next checkup. She was just too heavy. It was too much pressure. She was fidgeting constantly, flushed and sweaty, her belly throbbing like a massive creature perched against her, asleep. But by then, it was crushing her. Her thighs had gone numb just from ten minutes of sitting upright, yet standing up was just as uncomfortable, if not more so. “It’s just too much. I feel like I’m gonna burst.” She swore, it had to be the size of a boulder by then. It was just inconceivable that this thing was still attached to her. That these overgrown babies were still inside of her.

“I’m afraid that’s just not possible,” Dr. ­­­­Brown apprised with that manufactured sympathy most physicians flaunted these days. “Of course, your situation is extremely… atypical.”

“I can hardly even walk,” Olivia choked out. She blinked back her tears, feeling pathetic. “Work is — well — I can’t even –”

“You’re still working?” said Dr. Brown. His concerned expression became genuine for a beat. “How are you even… Well, that’s not advisable. We already discussed this, Olivia. You should be on full bed rest.”

“I can’t Dr. Brown, I just can’t.” She couldn’t stop going to work. That would have made this whole thing for nothing. And she had an irrational fear that she would never go back to work.

Dr. Brown just frowned at her. “I also wanted to discuss your diet for a few moments. The fat composition here…well, it’s unprecedented.”

Indeed, Olivia had a fat belly and even fatter babies, largely because she was still eating a quantity of food that could rectify world hunger at least hourly. Even then, she was jonesing for a snack. Breakfast had been a couple of her fat-boosting milkshakes: blended lard, cream, butter, sugar, and ice cream. She hadn’t set them down even knowing how rapidly they were making her grow. Even as her belly quavered and tightened, her face scrunching at the increasing pressure. The sensation of that tension and growth was so familiar, almost warm, to the point that it had grown to be…comforting, in a way. The sensation. That blooming heat and shove as her stomach was pushed beyond capacity, babies lurching and fattening up, plump and sturdy.

Olivia suspected she was going crazy. Otherwise, how could she justify this? And how could she keep doing it to her body?

When Dr. Brown began to float the idea of having her admitted to the hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy, Olivia realized that this appointment was going nowhere. She took her leave, despite discouragement from the doctor, and with the aid of a couple of medical assistants who struggled and groaned as they collectively got Olivia to her feet.

She was unbalanced. Her belly brushed both sides of the doorframe as she arduously waddled out of the exam room, one hand clutching the wall as the other gripped onto her mass.

One of the assistants hurried off, returning shortly with a walker to offer Olivia, but her belly bounced into it, knocking it over. It didn’t come close to reaching her hands. Maybe if it was wider.

Her belly preceded her as she struggled forward through the office, staff and patients alike pausing to stare at her as she gasped for breath. She didn’t even bother to stop at checkout. They could handle things, Olivia decided.

Her belly barely made clearance through the exit into the parking garage. Olivia was completely overwhelmed and disturbed by the realization that she was beginning to outgrow doorways.

Mike’s SUV pulled up. She had insisted that he wait outside for her. “How did things go?” he said as he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the car, and came to her aid, opening the passenger door for her.

Olivia contrived a smile. “Everything’s as expected. Everything’s fine.”

Mike looked incredulous. “Did he…did the doctor say anything about, er, induction, or anything? I mean, when –?”

“Mike, I really just want to go home and lie down,” Olivia pleaded, presently struggling to get into the car. “Can you just fucking help me?”

“Of course, of course.” Mike hurriedly obliged.

-

Olivia really needed someone at home to help her. Like, an Aide or something. But then, she valued her privacy. Mainly, she was too embarrassed to have someone around all the time, seeing her state, and her habits.

The kitchen chair creaked beneath her, belly pressing firmly into the table edge, the huge mass dividing Olivia from it so that she could hardly reach the dishes set up there. But she managed.

She felt squashed under the mass. It was perched heavily on her lap, practically crushing her legs. It took over her torso, wider than the rest of her body. She could do little more than fumble and struggle beneath it, yet she did her best to adapt.

Olivia was putting together a quick snack for herself. She had several packages of dehydrated potato flakes. Combining just one package with hot water would make a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, probably enough for five people. It sounded delicious, but also, like a lot of effort.

Olivia poured the first package into the mixing bowl in front of her, then added the hot water from the electrical kettle set on the table beside it. She stirred it briefly with a spoon, then gingerly lifted the bowl.

The trick was to drink it all down before it thickened. That would save her the effort of having to even chew it and gulp it down her throat. If she just consumed it quickly, as a liquid, it would thicken inside her stomach, giving her the reward of fullness without all the work that usually went with it.

It took only seconds for Olivia to drink down the whole bowl. She covered her mouth against a small burp, and after a few minutes delay, she started to feel the food expanding inside her, tightening her belly as she leaned back and hummed. She cupped her mound with both hands, rubbing the plump ball as she panted, her stomach filling but her appetite not nearly sated.

With a tired smile, Olivia tore open another package. She repeated the process, pouring the dehydrated mashed potatoes into the bowl, then adding more hot water. A quick stir, then she lifted the bowl.

Olivia did this with three more packages of mashed potatoes. By the time she got to the fifth one, her face was red, her body sweat-drenched.

“Mmmghh…” she hummed, her stomach tight and aching. She could feel the sheer concentration of the mashed potatoes squished inside of her, filling up every centimeter of her stomach that it could. She was panting heavily, feeling packed and breathless. She bit her lip, struggling to bear the mounting tension. In the meantime, her shaking hands tore open the final package.

She didn’t know why she was still determined to eat. It was a compulsion she had no control of. The food was there, and she needed to finish it. She needed to fill herself beyond capacity. She simply needed more.

“Nngghhh…” She groaned as she managed to pour the dehydrated potato flakes into the bowl. Her body was throbbing, visibly pulsating. The stretchy cotton nightgown she had on was pasted to her by sweat, the moisture turning the material transparent, so even her swollen nipples were visible in the white material. She might as well have been sitting there naked. But it didn’t matter. She was alone.

“Guuhhhh…” Her free hand tugged at her deep V-neck, allowing more of her cleavage to protrude. Her breasts had only gotten bigger over the past couple weeks. They had to be the size of honeydews, nipples swollen to the size of thimbles where they bulged out, torturously hard.

She poured the hot water into the bowl, then did the customary stir. With both hands, she lifted the bowl to her lips.

“Mmmmgh…” She tipped it into her mouth, drinking rapidly, before it could expand. She chugged the buttery concoction, gulping it down, filling her already overpacked stomach. By the time she finished drinking, it had already started to thicken inside her.

“Nrrggghhhh!” Olivia arched as she clutched her belly, trying to bear the incredible strain. “Hahh…hahh…hooo…” She tried to breathe through it, as the pressure and heat cumulated, her eyes tearing at the corners, until the tension seemed to reach its apex, a shock reverberating through her core.

“AHHHH!” Her belly button bulged, seeming to double in size. Her belly jumped, and shivered, then just started to explode with growth. She could feel it creeping outward, rising like dough as she struggled beneath it.

It shoved into the table, nearly causing her to topple out of her chair. She managed to keep her balance, as she clutched it, groaning as her legs squirmed and tears poured down her cheeks, while she witnessed the inflation of her own fucking body, which shouldn't have been possible, but was happening. She was fucking blowing up!

“Ohhhh…” Olivia whimpered as the growth spurt finally started to settle. She was still jammed up against the table, face nearly puce, her nightgown now tearing at the side.

She felt like a fucking elephant. This thing was bigger than a beach ball. It looked like a fucking boulder attached her. Olivia didn’t even think she could get up.

So instead she slumped back, chair continuing to creak oninously, as she attempted to gather what was left of her sanity.

What the hell was she doing to herself?

The question echoed in her skull, like a mantra.

-

At work the next day, Olivia felt completely out of it. Disoriented and dazed, she sat behind her desk, the world outside her body obscured and muffled.

She was just so big. She hadn’t been able to even reach her desk in her numerous attempts. She alternated between staring off, fidgeting, sobbing, and sometimes even sort of dry pushing. Just sort of pushing, as though to give birth to these things, because they felt tight and low, felt on the cusp, felt like they could start shoving out at any moment.

Oliva grunted as her thighs twitched and her belly shuddered in a wave of tension. This was made worse by the writhing movement that followed, her flesh shivering as she struggled to breathe against her squirming and squeezing insides.

She was stuffed with several huge babies, in her already fat-packed midsection, and she desperately wanted them gone. But not out, per se. She didn’t want to deal with them. Nothing about this situation was remotely fair. “Nrrgghhh…godddd…” She groaned out. “GET THESE THINGS OUT OF ME!”

“‘Liv?”

She startled. She had completely failed to notice Roger, from corporate, poking his head into the office. “Oh God,” Olivia breathed. “S-sorry. I was j-just —”

Roger waved her off, chuckling good-naturedly. “Hormones, right?” he said. “I wanted to see if I could get a quick word.”

Olivia nodded wearily.

As Roger entered the office, she saw how his face changed, the good-humor slowly fading as he truly took in the extent of her massiveness. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen it before. Though every day, she was a bit bigger. And it must have been a week or two since he had last seen her. She saw his puzzlement that she could still be pregnant, but also his morbid fascination, and uneasiness as well.

“It’s, um, weird to speak to you directly,” Olivia managed, flustered. She was entirely clueless of what Roger could have wanted. “Usually we communicate through Turner –”

“Turner is no longer with the company.”

Olivia blinked up at him in surprise.

“I’Oldve been paying attention to all the revenue you’ve been bringing in lately, Olivia. And I have to say, I’m quite impressed. I’m here to promote you to manager.”

Olivia was stunned. She was being offered Turner’s job?

“It includes a 40% raise and Turner’s old office. The one on the corner.”

“I – I don’t even –”

“Keep up the good work, ‘Liv. We’ll have your things moved later this afternoon.”

Then he walked off, leaving Olivia alone. She admittedly wasn’t certain whether it had been a dream or not.

-

In only a few days, she was made even busier than before. Her new promotion meant more responsibility. There were endless meetings and conferences and somehow she was expected to know what the hell was going on.

Things were just getting out of hand. She should have gone on maternity leave early. But she couldn’t leave now! She had just gotten a new job title! Corporate was throwing more and more money at her. And what if they thought she wasn’t serious about all this? Well, she wasn’t, but she was supposed to keep that to herself. She didn’t want to be demoted, forgotten, or fired. She didn’t want to be written off as a stay-at-home mother who saw her career as a hobby.

“Make sure they’re briefed on the Feldman project,” said Roger as Olivia nodded, all flustered and dizzy. “And don’t forget that conference call at three.”

Olivia adjusted her blouse, which was truly straining against her orb. She contorted her face into a grimace of a smile, then wobbled after Roger, into the meeting room.