Sugar-Baby II (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

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“And this used to be the site of the old glass factory.” Jeffrey pointed at a large museum, offering another random fact about the city, before he took her hand again.

Eeep.The squeaky grunt came from deep in Lucy’s throat as her abdomen tightened and her belly button popped outward like an oven timer.

“You okay?” Jeffrey asked.

Lucy gave a jerky nod. “F-fine,” she stammered. They continued walking together, Lucy’s face twisted but her condition hidden.

Lucy surmised that she probably looked eight months pregnant under her princess dress. She and Jeffrey were strolling around, taking in the popular neighborhood. It was not Lucy’s idea of a quality date, but Jeffrey was a new client, and he paid well. So she tried to be patient and go along with it, even though she was repeatedly distracted by the increasing size and corresponding discomfort of her belly.

She offered Jeffrey a strained smile, hoping that she didn’t look as panicked as she felt. He smiled back at her, then wrenched his hand out of her tight grip, to point at another structure, describing it but Lucy hardly heard him.

Before she could even think about what to do, he took her hand for what had to be the third time since they had started walking. Lucy staggered a step, grunting as her belly shuddered and tightened.

Jeffrey gave her a sideways glance, then looked around. “Should we get dinner?” he suggested awkwardly as he nodded to a nearby establishment.

“Yeah,” Lucy managed, still wincing from the strain.

When they walked inside, Jeffrey spoke to the maître d’ as Lucy excused herself to the restroom.

Lucy’s stride felt awkwardly inefficient. Was she waddling? She locked the bathroom door behind her, allowing herself to breathe heavily as she rested her hands against the profound curve of her belly which felt truly tense and uncomfortable. Hastily, she drew up her layered skirts, pulling them high so that she could see the extent of her growth in the full-length mirror. She breathed heavily, watching the orb heave up and down with the rhythm of her breathing. She could probably pass as someone at term with child! Lucy trembled, then dropped her skirts and fluffed them. But as she looked back into the mirror, it was apparent that the poofy dress wasn’t fully hiding her condition. She could still see the shape of her belly beneath it. Lucy fumbled some more with the material. The skirts of the were high, and at least covered her belly. The material fell in a tulip shape that was getting increasingly confining.

Lucy tried to breathe, not allowing her panic to get the better of her. Once her other senses eased, she became more aware of the achiness in her nipples. Lucy shifted her gaze to her chest, which felt constricted in the strapless bodice of the dress. She started to notice that her breasts had started to overflow the neckline which was pinching into her flesh, her cleavage protruding heavily as the material strained. She frowned and wondered if her breasts had gotten larger? She gulped and turned sideways, studying her profile. She cupped the mounds, shivering from their sensitivity. She supposed it made sense. Lucy remembered how her cousin had gone up two cup sizes late term in pregnancy.

Lucy took some tissues to dab at the sweat on her brow and cleavage. Steeling herself, she turned and waddled out of the bathroom.

She found Jeffrey seated on a bench in the lounge. She joined him there, easing herself down carefully. But once she was seated, Lucy noticed the way her dress bunched against her, and Jeffrey seemed to notice as well. Lucy fidgeted and tried to adjust her skirts, but there wasn’t much give. It was sort of framing her in this position. Her belly was just too huge to hide. She awkwardly folded her arms against the curve, her face pink as Jeffrey stared at her.

He reached out and experimentally took one of her hands.

Lucy grunted as the orb tightened yet more, her body trembling as she panted, “J-Jeffery.”

He tore his hand away, looking positively stunned. But then, abruptly, he grabbed both of her hands at once.

“Nrrrgghhh…” The growth spurt was forceful and visible, her belly seeming to roll forward with incredible pressure as her breasts were filled with a tingling heat, her bodice struggling to contain her as more of her plump flesh pushed out over the top. Lucy struggled to bear the incredible pressure as her belly tremored with another pulse of growth that left her dizzy. “H-have to go to the bathroom,” she wheezed. She just wanted to be anywhere else.

“You just got back,” said Jeffrey as he stared at her.

Lucy felt so breathless and tight, she could hardly breathe.

“Let me help you up,” said Jeffrey, standing then turning to face her.

Before Lucy had any hopes of gathering her composure, Jeffrey reached down, again grabbing both of her hands as he pulled her to her feet.

Lucy whined out, her belly surging as she arched and struggled, pouring sweat. She was beet red and near-delirious by then, her abdomen pushing and throbbing, making her look overdue with twins.

Other people in the lounge had started to stare at them. Jeffrey just seemed amazed and fascinated.

Lucy was panting like a dog. She just wanted to go home.

A waiter arrived. “Your table is ready,” he notified us he looked oddly at Lucy.

Lucy stumbled as Jeffrey took one of her hands to guide her to the table, her belly shifting and straining. Soon they had reached their table, which was small and circular. Lucy managed to ease herself down in her chair, blinking back sweat and tears.

She was just packed with so many babies, hormones assailing her. Her breasts swelled, and she was practically drooling. She felt horny and dizzy, her groin throbbing as the room reeled steadily.

She could hardly dodge him. Jeffrey took her hand again. Lucy grunted, her belly pressing hard against the edge of the table. She was panting and fidgeting as people chattered around at them. In the background somewhere, she could hear a baby crying. She felt cornered and flustered, her dress damp with perspiration.

Jeffrey had taken on a mischievous look. He was talking, but she couldn’t hear a word. He would take her hand frequently as he conversed, Lucy struggling to contain grunts and groans every time her body heaved with growth. Finally, with a particularly forceful jolt of pressure, her belly knocked the table clean over.

People gasped, waiters scurrying to clean the mess of bread rolls and broken glass. Lucy squirmed in her seat, her body tight and throbbing. She looked due with quints, the top of her dress seeming to retract, her areola close to pushing right over the edge of the material.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jeffrey hurried over in concern, taking both of her hands. He briefly cupped her shoulders, then held her hands again. Two beats of contact in quick succession.

Lucy wailed, her body arching, and her skirts tearing apart as her belly leapt, bare and exposed. The bodice ripped, cantaloupe-sized breasts bouncing free, nipples squirting milk as she whined and clutched her straining body. She was left only in her garter and panties, scraps of her tattered dress hanging off her as her belly shoved and swelled to the size of a beach ball, pink and pulsing as she struggled beneath it. Her thighs were spread, the orb perching heavily against her lap and pelvis. “Guhhh…” It shuttered another inch forward, the chair creaking ominously beneath her.