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Hitting It Big, Part 4
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 19:45:38 +0000 UTC$4/Base Directory
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Summary: Ruth has a massive pregnancy fetish, to the point that she fantasizes daily about becoming a mindless breeding cow, getting increasingly more pregnant and giving birth to endlessly more babies. Given her career choice as the local college’s librarian, she (just barely) manages to keep it as just a fantasy, mainly due to her financial situation. However, when she inexplicably wins hundreds of millions in the lottery, she decides to finally make her fantasy a reality. Idea submitted by Zork27 on SubscribeStar.
This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.
In another week, Ruth looked as though she was at term with triplets.
The more pregnant she became, the hornier she got. It was a vicious cycle, and she had become truly incapable of resisting any attractive man who showed interest in her plump, pregnant body.
The bigger she grew, the tighter and heavier her body became. Simple things such as standing up were becoming difficult for her, her body continually feeling awkward. Yet her satisfaction at knowing she was full of life — visibly packed to the brim with babies — just made any discomfort entirely worth it.
Ruth waddled to her bedroom mirror that morning, her hands clutching her swollen abdomen.
She surveyed her reflection, from her tousled hair to the small T-shirt straining against her DD-breasts, to her huge belly protruding out entirely beneath the hem of her top, then her panties, that were stretched to capacity but still didn’t quite accommodate her rounded hips and fat backside, inches of her butt crack protruding over it while the material burrowed into what seemed like a permanent wedgie.
Ruth fruitlessly tugged the material out of her crack. Unsurprisingly, it sank right back in, her flesh quivering a little as she strained her neck to glance back at what seemed like a decent BBL. Ruth lightly shook her head as she turned back to her reflection, still silently trying to process how much she had transformed in just a few weeks.
She just looked so fertile; so feminine, voluptuous, and womanly.
She marveled at her breasts, which seemed to be getting plumper by the day. Her nipples were so swollen they must have doubled in size, protruding blatantly in her clothing regardless of whatever layers she donned. And her belly was just huge. It was the biggest pregnant belly Ruth had ever seen, and it satisfied her immensely.
People stared at her wherever she went. Sometimes they fretted, offering to help with her bags, or get her a chair — complete strangers. They were fascinated by her fertility. They knew she was incubating something truly remarkable.
Her changes were overwhelming, but exciting. Sometimes it felt like her whole body was thrumming with tension and heat.
She was constantly flushed and warm, her breasts tingling. Sometimes her abdomen would gurgle or lurch with activity.
And she was steadily growing regardless of her couplings. Even on days when she didn’t get laid, it was like she could feel herself expanding, her skin tight and itching,
Her body was steadily straining, her belly subtly advancing. Getting fuller and heavier with all the life packed inside of her.
As tempted as Ruth was to stand in her mirror and admire her form all day, it was a weekday morning, and she had to get to work.
She went to the bathroom and got washed up, before returning to her bedroom and considering her outfit options.
Well-paid though her seamstress was, the woman just couldn’t seem to keep up with Ruth’s changes. Frowning to herself, Ruth thought it might be best to hire another one.
For now, she would work with what she had.
Ruth tried on several blouses, but all of them strained at the buttons, revealing gaps of skin. She finally settled on a stretchy shirt she managed to pull all the way down over her huge belly, though it did regularly slide upwards, exposing inches of her round abdomen beneath the hem. She would just have to tug the top down as consistently as she could manage.
She paired it with a fashionable blazer, one with no hopes of buttoning around her, but at least it gave an air of professionalism. Lastly, Ruth pulled on some tight black leggings. None of her other pairs of pants were likely to accommodate her plump, protruding ass. Even the leggings, stretchy as they were, constantly slid down. It was another piece Ruth would have to repeatedly tug into place throughout the workday.
Only eight hours, she thought to herself, already feeling exhausted about her upcoming shift.
Ruth wore her hair down as she grabbed her keys and made her way to the door. She paused there just to catch her breath, her head swimming as a tingling heat rolled over her body. She tried to brush her salacious thoughts aside.
The hormones were practically dizzying at times. Sometimes it felt like they took full control of her, but Ruth thought she was getting better at managing them. A little. Maybe.
She took deep breaths as she leaned against the wall and pulled out her phone.
Embarrassingly enough, she could not fit behind the steering wheel of her car anymore. Her free hand cupping her lower belly, Ruth ordered a rideshare vehicle.
It was only a three minute wait. Relieved to see the icon of the vehicle pull up to her house on the map, Ruth opened her front door and waddled out to meet it.
It felt awkward to navigate herself into the back seat, easing herself down, her backside a sort of squishy platform beneath her.
Her tender nipples dragged against the inside of her shirt in a way that made her cheeks burn, her face twisting as she tried to endure the many sources of arousal littering her form.
The driver gave a concerned look through the rearview mirror. “To the hospital?” he asked
“No,” Ruth grunted, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m just going to work.” She gave him the address to the campus library, which he should have known from the app already.
The driver sent her a dubious glance, but nevertheless drove in the direction of the library. It was only a fifteen minute ride, and Ruth did her best to relax. When they finally pulled up to the building, she opened the door and struggled somewhat.
“You sure you’re okay?” the driver said shiftily, looking fully willing to speed off to the hospital free of charge.
Ruth ignored him, gripping the edges of the door frame as she fumbled to shift her weight. She felt sort of wedged there. It was such a short trip, she hadn’t bothered to ask the driver to adjust the seat in front of her.
“Errgh…” Ruth grunted as she hauled herself up. Breathing heavily, she slowly waddled toward the building’s entrance.
Her job was, if nothing else, quite dull. Which was convenient, given her condition. Ruth had doubts that she could have managed any other occupation in her state.
College students blatantly stopped in their tracks to stare as she shuffled forward, panting and clutching her belly with her free hand, her breasts wobbling a good deal with her heavy movements.
Ruth was just grateful when she got inside and reached her desk. She eased herself slowly down into her seat, her swollen belly settling against her lap as though to pin her there. She made a feeble attempt to adjust her shirt and her waistband, but then figured no one would notice if her clothing slid out of place. The height of her desk, fortunately, hid a good deal of her body.
Ruth leaned back and relaxed for a moment, even allowing her eyes to close. No one bothered her. Another perk of being so obviously with child. But at the buzzing of her phone, she could not help opening one eye and glancing down.
Another text message from her mother, checking in on her. Ruth rolled her eyes then closed them again.
“Ruth?”
Ruth’s eyes snapped open. She blinked up at Mrs. McMillan.
“Sorry to bother you, dear…” said the elderly librarian timidly. She nipped her bottom lip. “…but I really need these new textbooks filed.” She gestured to a cart nearby, piled with books.
“No problem,” Ruth said. She planted her hands against her desk, grunting as she heaved herself to her feet.
Mrs. McMillan appeared startled, as she always did, when Ruth’s belly popped up from under her desk. It could have had something to do with the fact that Ruth’s belly was always a bit larger. A small surprise every time.
Mrs. McMillan opened and closed her mouth, but it took her a moment to produce more words. “Have you thought about taking an early maternity leave?” she asked nervously, her eyes glued to Ruth’s orb.
“Why would I do that?” Ruth said, furrowing her brows. That would result in fewer opportunities to show off her fertile body. “I’ve never felt better.” She swiped some sweat off her brow.
Mrs. McMillan didn’t look at all placated as she continued to frown at Ruth’s swell with a troubled expression. “Very well,” she said with a sigh. “I just hate asking you to do so much—”
“It’s hardly anything,” Ruth assured. “And it’s my job. I’m happy to be here.” She fixed her face with a grin, but she could tell that her coworker was not convinced.
Sighing again, Mrs. McMillan walked off, and Ruth got to work.
Admittedly, just the act of moving proved strenuous, and she spent the next few hours panting and sweating, her cheeks pink and her back stinging. She seemed to adjust her clothes every few moments and took particular care whenever she crossed a patron.
Ruth wobbled around shelves, taking small breaks to lean on walls and catch her breath. Sometimes she would find a spare chair in which she could rest, but it seemed like any relief was negated by the energy it took to heave herself to her feet again.
The job became particularly arduous when Ruth was tasked with placing a book on a low shelf. She bent forward and struggled, clutching the book with one hand and her belly with the other. She groaned, her teeth grit and her face reddening. The position made her belly feel like it would burst right open. But somehow she managed to get the book in place, and then she gripped onto the shelves to slowly drag herself upright.
She was gasping for breath, her belly heaving out and in with her heavy panting. She felt so dizzy, she could collapse, so she wobbled her way toward her desk. It seemed she would be taking an early lunch that day.
She absently tugged at her shirt, which now seemed to be exposing skin no matter how much she adjusted it.
She didn’t even relish the stares of onlookers. She made her way to her desk as quickly as she could — which was still quite a slow pace — and eased herself down with a moan.
After a few moments of being slumped there, Ruth found the energy to dig her lunch out of her bag. She munched her way through her large container of buttered pasta. It had to be five servings of the stuff.
But she had a healthy appetite, and hungry babies, evidently. Ruth slurped another noodle down when the gurgling started up. She paused and cradled her mound as her insides lurched, popping and gurgling sensations arising from the quivering orb.
It was just so big, this heap on her lap. It shelved her breasts, which looked as though they were progressively going up another cup size throughout the workday.
“Be good for mommy,” she murmured, cognizant of the startled looks people sent her every time her belly rumbled.
Clearly it wasn’t the sexiest of pregnancy symptoms. Ruth blushed, averting her gaze.
As she continued to study herself, she was certain she had grown. There was a throbbing tension; a prickling pressure. Her belly was expanding. Subtly, but assuredly.
She felt dazed between the fatigue, all the food, and the throbbing tension pushing outward from within. There were just so many babies. Her mind was spinning. By then, she suspected she could pass for someone carrying quads. She trailed her hands over her belly, moaning quietly as she allowed her eyelids to flutter down.
She could swear her clothes were shrinking by the moment. She sank deeper in her seat, feeling as though she was in some bizarre dream. The slumped position brought her belly all the closer to her face. Encroaching. She breathed it in.
She was so pregnant, so full, with who knew how many babies. Packed inside of her. Crowding and filling her. She was so fertile, so stuffed.
She came out of her reverie, reaching clumsily into her bag again. The pasta was done.
This time, Ruth withdrew a canned beverage containing a protein shake. She had purchased several boxes of the stuff online. It was said to help increase fetal weight to ensure the development of big, healthy babies.
“Bottoms up,” Ruth murmured to herself as she popped the can and downed it.
And there was no need to worry. She had three more cans packed in her bag for when she got hungry again.
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