Faking, Part 12 (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

-

Work had become truly exhausting.

On the occasions that Olivia was allowed a moment to herself, she just sat in her office, perched awkwardly behind her desk, feeling as though she would teeter right off her chair were she not jamming her orb against the edge of her desk. Not that it was optional. Olivia didn’t nearly fit anymore. Her big new corner office, like most spaces, was too small for her. The world was becoming increasingly claustrophobic around her.

On the bright side, Olivia was developing new skills, such as those of depth perception. It was an endless trial to navigate this big ball attached to her, trying to keep it from crashing into things. Most of her efforts were futile, but she was improving.

Her intercom chimed. “Olivia, your 2 o’clock is here,” said her assistant. Yes, Olivia had an assistant now.

Olivia didn’t respond. At that moment, she was busily gulping down a gallon-sized container of cake batter blended with cream and lard. Olivia had really taken to foods that she could drink like beverages. It was certainly convenient, considering her rapidly elevating status, and mitigating free time. Ever since she had taken Turner’s job, the corporate buffoons expected her to work six — sometimes even seven hours a day. As a dogma, Olivia had always limited herself to working an hour or less, the rest of her time at the office spent snacking, ruminating, or just looking at cat videos on her computer.

“Olivia?” the assistant repeated.

Olivia rapidly gulped down the rest of the gooey substance, after which she pressed her lips and scrunched her face with a hummed groan. But she tried her best to keep it together, grabbing up some tissue to dab at the sweat on her forehead and cleavage. “I’ll be right out, Ivy,” Olivia managed breathlessly. She waited another moment as her stomach gurgled, prickled, and tightened up a little.

Then she gripped the high arms of her chair and truly struggled. This was becoming a ritual. She grunted and whined, her feet planted against the carpet as she used every muscle in her legs and torso to get some momentum beneath her. “Annghhh!” Olivia cried out after she had gotten herself to her feet following several failed attempts. She took a few moments to catch her breath, her orb seeming to pulsate against her.

Olivia tugged at her blouse. The custom-made article of clothing was designed large and stretchy to accommodate the ongoing expansion of Olivia’s body. She had received it only a week ago but it was already tight and straining, her swollen flesh bulging out between several buttons. The top was paired with a pencil skirt that was also flexible and stretchy to accommodate Olivia’s wide hips and the huge backside sticking out behind her.

Her breasts had only gotten bigger. Olivia estimated that they were each the size of a volleyball. Her belly had to be historic in its massiveness. It was gigantic. She looked as though she was incubating two or three full grown menrather than fetuses. Olivia didn’t know how much longer she would be able to carry the girth and weight of it.

She grabbed her cane. Mike had gotten it for her. It was one of those four-prong ones. Olivia didn’t know how much it helped, but it was better than nothing.

And then she inched, truly inched forward, feet shuffling against the floor in fractional increments. If she wanted, she could move faster, sort of staggering, but that would drain her entirely.

It seemed to take ages for Olivia to reach the door. Once she opened it, she was too breathless to speak, so she managed a flustered smile, knowing that she looked like a mess, already panting.

The potential client gave Olivia a startled look. It was a very typical reaction. Olivia would use their sympathy — or more likely, their shock— to close the deal before they knew what hit them. Sparing herself, and the soon-to-be client, the indignity of Olivia shoving and squeezing to get her belly through the doorway, Olivia motioned for the client to enter the office. “Come on in,” she gasped out.

-

A couple of days later, Roger and some of the other executives hosted a dinner for Olivia, celebrating her promotion. It was the type of thing Olivia couldn’t get out of. They booked up the best restaurant in town and filled it with high-level employees who took turns praising Olivia for all her managerial genius.

Olivia hardly paid it any attention. By then, she was beyond any interest in appearances and pretenses, so she spent her time doing what people typically did at restaurants. Stuffing her face, ordering everything on the menu, and stuffing her face yet more. She ate with her hands, just shoving food into her face, ignoring the awkward coughs and mortified looks — she just didn’t care!

It had become clear to Olivia that the more she was paid and promoted, the more the company would monopolize her time for no particular reason. The correlation between these things was truly irritating, and Olivia was at her wit's end. She would no longer bow down to corporate slavery, and they wouldn’t dare to fire her. Why — she was pregnant!

Her pregnancy was a shield. A real one, this time around. She was untouchable—like a video game character with unlimited lives. It was time to start using them.

Between chunks of steak, bites of scallop, squishy bread rolls, and everything in between, Olivia took gulps of lardy cake batter from the bottle she brought with her. The night seemed to go on for hours, and Olivia made sure that this time was not wasted, if just by stuffing her face. She felt flushed and dazed, her belly heaving at times as she covered belches with her fists. Beside her, Mike threw looks of concern, but Olivia just didn’t care, so she indulged some more.

Some of Olivia’s colleagues seemed practically scared of her. Scared of her monstrous form. But also, scared of her leaving the company.

Olivia was wearing a long cotton dress that hugged her body. The fabric was stretchy, but also extremely thin and light to the point that it was semi-transparent. Olivia usually tried her best to be presentable, but there were only so many outfits she could buy in a short span of time. She wondered if all these pregnancy-related expenses defeated the purpose of all her pay-raises. She had yet to sit down and calculate things, but she did wonder. And her irritation grew.

She also had to skip wearing a bra. Her breasts were just so tight and uncomfortable she couldn’t stand any amount of compression on them. Her nipples tingled and ached almost constantly, any rub or snag leaving jolts of electricity shuddering straight to her groin.

She was a whale. A time bomb. Olivia felt someone — Mike — rubbing her shoulder. She looked down at herself and registered how far away she was from the table, sort of using her belly as a surface, fat breasts rubbing into her food. This was just ludicrous. Yet this was what she had become.

Her belly practically dwarfed her. It was taking over, squishing against her, shoving Olivia aside. Probably bigger than the rest of her. Even with her thighs spread, it overfilled her lap, outspanning it. Wider than the whole of her body, as she struggled and breathed, and tried to bear it all. She was no longer a woman, she had become a growth on this entity. It was getting bigger and bigger, and she didn’t know what to do anymore.

Glasses clinked and there was some light applause. Olivia had missed what had warranted it. Some guy across the room was seating himself, after what must have been a toast. Olivia blinked rapidly as she felt everyone’s attention steadily shifting to her.

There had to be a hundred people present. This thing just felt over the top.

“Would you like to make a few words, Olivia?” Roger inquired loudly, from…from somewhere.

Olivia realized that she was again gulping heavily from her beverage, doing it without even noticing. She was just addicted to that greasy heaviness of lard. She finished off her second bottle, putting it down, and catching her breath.

Olivia struggled to get up. She should have been used to it, but it was only getting harder each time. She groaned and whined, her feet fumbling as she tried to brace them against the floor. People watch on awkwardly, Mike trying to help her. She roared as she finally came to a standing position, breasts spilling forward, nearly bursting out of her V-neckline.

Olivia gasped for breath. She felt deranged. Everyone was staring. She arched her back against the achiness and pressure, shoving her belly out even more, causing it to jam roughly against the table.

“You corporate brown-nosers…” she managed breathily. “For months, you’ve been throwing money and promotions at me, and for no damn reason! It’s incredible how I can gain so much by doing so little. Except for being pregnant!” She motioned irritably at her mass. “Fuck, I didn’t even want these things!”

“‘Liv,’ ‘maybe you should take a seat,” Mike whispered nervously beside her, as though she hadn’t just spent five minutes getting to her feet.

Olivia ignored him, continuing to rant, “And now I have all these big babies to deal with. It’s a fucking litter!” superfluously, she pointed at her belly. Everyone’s eyes were already quite glued to it.

The silence was deafening. Olivia at least found morbid pleasure in their horrified looks. Their squirmy discomfort.

“And now you want me to —ohhhhh…” The pressure. Heat surged to Olivia’s face as she gripped onto Mike’s shoulder. “Oh god, not now.” But the tension was compounding, blooming rapidly outward, filling her up. “Nrrgghhhhh!” she grunted as her stomach heaved, and grew, inflating as she stood there. The mound shoved harder into the table, causing dishes to quaver. Someone fell out of his seat in surprise, another person dropping their glass.

Olivia kept growing. She strained and tried to bear it, her muscles pushing and her abdomen expanding, as it just got fuller and tighter, her dress starting to tear. By the time the spurt ended, she was drenched in sweat and holding onto Mike for dear life. Her dress was barely holding on. Some of her puffy areola had started to protrude over the V-neck that was now pinching into her pillowy bosom.

No one seemed to be breathing. Mike looked like he might pass out.

“Get me out of here,” Olivia pleaded with him quietly. She was struggling just to stay upright. She didn’t think she could support her own weight anymore.

Mike seemed to snap out of his reverie. The door wasn’t far. He couldn’t manage to speak, but he nodded jerkily. Together, they shuffled, staggered, and strained to get to the wide dining room exit door only ten feet away from them.

Her belly hit both sides of the doorframe. It hadn’t been this tight earlier when she had entered, but Olivia had gotten used to this by now. She pushed and shoved, starting to squeeze her belly through. The thick layer of fat that coated the orb helped to cushion the babies from any impact this caused.

“Nrrgghhhh…” Olivia groaned, feeling rather jammed in that space. She pushed some more, inching onward, the dazed Mike helping shove her from behind.

Her stomach heaved and Olivia felt another bloom of pressure. Eyes widening, she hurriedly tried to shove herself the rest of the way through the doorframe, but then the growth spurt hit her. “Errrrgghhhhh!” she groaned as her belly tightened, rolling forward and getting wider, swelling up and squeezing her. The pressure made her see stars, her throat emitting a choked, squeaking sound. She was jammed in the doorway, the frame just squashingher, shooting pressure in and out of her. She felt like she could puke and come. She felt like her womb might burst, like babies might start exploding out of her vagina.

There was a splash of fluid.

“Olivia? ‘Liv, are you okay!?”

She must have blacked out for a moment. “Unnghhh…” Olivia moaned as she struggled to breathe. Mike was behind her, as were several of her colleagues, all gawking at her ordeal. Somehow she had managed to slip onto her knees, but her belly was still tightly wedged in the doorframe.

“Someone help her!” Mike’s voice was jittery with panic. “Get something. C-call the police, g-g-get—”

A waiter was stumped. “I’ll grab some butter from the kitchen!” He sped off.

“Holy hell,” someone murmured.

“What in the world…”

Someone tore off the bottom part of Olivia’s dress, revealing the black thong and garters Olivia was squeezed into, but she was in too much pain to care about her immodesty. She felt oil being splashed on her from behind. In front of her, a couple in fine attire had shown up, and had frozen to stare at Olivia. They looked aghast. She was blocking the only entrance and exit, a crowd building on either side of her.

“AGGHHHHH!” Olivia screamed as her belly heaved again, things shifting, and —jesus fuck. The pressure of the doorframe was just exacerbating everything. The force had thrust her into labor and was literally squishing the babies out of her. She struggled to breathe, her belly heaving like a sleeping creature, heaving against the doorframe, pulsing and squeezing, looking for relief, but there was only one direction for the pressure to go.

“Christ Almighty!” yelped a police officer after he and his partner had shoved through the crowd of astonished people spectating Olivia from the front.

“OHHHHHH!” Olivia tried her best to spread her plump thighs. Tears were pouring down her cheeks. She felt dizzy. She felt like she could pass out again. The pressure was just too much!

“We n-need some paramedics,” the police officer stammered into his radio. “A-and a—a construction crew? We have someone who is stuck, and…”

She was gonna burst, gonna blow! Olivia wailed as she felt something just —shoving — through her. Not like this — It was happening! This was too fast! This — this wasn’t — She struggled and sobbed, drooled and wheezed. Her breasts tensed, then abruptly started squirting milk all over the police officers’ thighs.

“Jesus!” one yelled in surprise, hopping as though he had been splashed with scalding oil.

“Oh my god, it’s crowning!” said Mike in abject terror.

It was shoving, just shoving out of her. She didn’t even have to bear down. Her labia bulged. “EERRRRRRGGGHHH!”

Something pushed free. A fat, squishy body. Olivia sobbed as she felt someone catching her first baby. There was a hoarse crying noise.

She had given birth.

“It’s okay Olivia, I got him.” Was that Roger? Roger had caught the baby?

Olivia felt exhausted and in pain. Her belly was still so full and tight. She stiffened and hummed through another contraction. She couldn’t imagine having to go through that again, let alone several more times. Feebly, she tried to nudge her belly through the doorway, wondering if it had a little more leverage to do so.

But she was still firmly stuck there.

She arched in pain, a stronger contraction overlapping the last one. The second baby was coming fast. “Oh god, oh god…” She couldn’t do this again. She didn’t want to, she just —

“Nrrrgghhhh!” Another gush of milk splashed the stunned officers.

Olivia heard a thudding noise behind her.

“Oh my gosh Mike, are you okay!?” someone cried.

Her belly tensed and ached, the next baby shifting rapidly towards her opening. It started to crown just as a new contraction hit. Olivia threw her head back and screamed.

-

After the fourth birth, Olivia had finally been able to squeeze out the doorframe. She gave birth several more times on the restaurant floor, to eventually find herself sprawled back on the carpet in the threshold to the dining room in the early hours of the morning. She gasped for breath as she gazed blearily up at the colleagues, strangers, restaurant workers, and emergency service members standing around her, several of them holding newborns wrapped up in kitchen towels or cloth napkins.

She had truly had a damn litter. Olivia hadn’t even been able to keep count. She was sure someone had told her how many babies she had birthed, but she was too dizzy to remember. She just knew that her babies were plump and numerous. There were at least half a dozen.

Mike had fainted and been rapidly carted off to the hospital. Olivia, in contrast, was still lying on the floor. She was disturbed to see that her belly was still massively fat and round, looking like a beach ball now rather than a boulder. It was certainly smaller, but still outrageously large and round. She still looked overdue with multiples despite not being pregnant anymore.

She wasn’t sure why she would have expected otherwise. Wishful thinking, she supposed.

Her feeble hands explored and squished into her mass, ensuring that her ordeal was over. She felt as though she had been run over. She wanted to sleep for a week. Scratch that, a month.

Olivia flinched at the latest cacophony of baby wails. Her breasts swelled as though in response, trying to suffocate her as her nipples squirted all over the place.

“Olivia, they’re beautiful,” said Roger tearfully as he happily rocked one of the newborns.

If you like them, you can keep them, Olivia thought irritably. Honestly, if it was up to her, she would crawl away, right now, to never be seen or heard from again. Ever.

Instead, she managed, hoarsely and faintly, “I’d like to talk about my salary.”

The End