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Obsessed, Part 8
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 18:40:02 +0000 UTC$4/Base Directory
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Summary: Though he knows it is odd, Theodore 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 Theodore's life is really turned on by Theodore's breasts, and isn't satisfied. He wants them bigger. Contains: Male: breast expansion, weight gain, lactation, eventual pregnancy.
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.
-
They were getting so big, so heavy, it was so hard to hold back. Theodore’s face twisted, his nipples swollen and aching. He panted, feeling overheated. His jacket was straining to stay together and contain his hot, swollen flesh. He could hardly breathe. He felt as though he was suffocating.
He wiped some sweat off his brow, and noticed his zipper inching down enough to reveal some cleavage.
He fruitlessly tried to tug it back up. He was next in line, so close to the register. He could feel the others patrons staring at him. Theodore bit his lip, his face flushed pink. He was going to make a mess.
It was finally his turn at the register. He grunted as he started to load items on the conveyer belt, every move he made feeling like a considerable risk. He was just so tight.
The deadpan cashier hardly seemed to notice him as she worked robotically to ring up his items. “That’ll be $382.50.” She froze when she finally looked up, taking in Theodore’s appearance.
With tremoring, jerky movements, Theodore managed to swipe his credit card through the reader. The payment processed, and the cashier numbly handed over the receipt as she continued to blatantly stare at him.
“Thanks,” he rasped as he shoved the receipt into his pocket. He planted his hands against his grocery cart, now full of bagged items, and pushed it towards the exit.
But just before Theodore could leave the grocery store, he felt a surge of pressure, then a stitch, and he knew that his flesh could take no more. His breasts seemed to bounce in a surge of engorgement, his jacket splitting at the chest, his tits wobbling as they were freed. People froze in shock around him. Theodore staggered, trying to turn, but there was no direction in which he wasn’t exposed.
“Mggghhhh…” His shirt was soaked in sweat; pasted against him. He had outgrown his bra again, the cups now pinching into his bloated flesh. He couldn’t contain it.
“Unnghhhhh!” Milk gushed, rapidly saturating his bra and T-shirt. In only seconds, it was splattering onto the floor, creating a puddle beneath them. As his breasts pulsed, Theodore clutched his flanks, moaning as he was overcome by dizzying arousal and relief. His back arched, his bra straining to contain his swollen mounds. They were huge. He could hardly believe how much they had grown in just a few hours, engorged to capacity, resembling volleyballs on his slim body.
The surrounding people were astonished. Some even started taking pictures of him with their phones.
“S-sorry,” Theodore stammered, feebly trying to cover himself up. He managed to take hold of his shopping cart and push it out the mechanical doors.
He sped his way home, his breasts tremoring with the car movements, milk flowing down his torso and seeping between his thighs. It dampened the seat, Theodore sitting in a puddle of the fluid as he moaned.
Clutching his torn jacket, he staggered into his home. He would have to get his groceries out of the car later. Theodore made his way to the bathroom, where he eased himself down into the tub. He turned on the warm water, and leaned back, cupping his swollen mounds and tweaking his plump nipples. His cock was rock hard, and he was truly yearning to wrap his hand firmly around it.
But there were more pressing matters. He reached for the breast pumps sitting clean on the tub edge where they had been left to dry. Gasping for breath, he attached the suction cups to his nipples and turned the machine on.
-
Theodore’s relationship with John was proving oddly convenient.
He gasped for breath as John sucked his right nipple, Theodore's fingers tangled in the older man’s hair.
They were presently in John’s office, Theodore shoved back against a shelf. It was a beautiful scene, John leaned down and sucking him, arms wrapped around Theodore’s waist.
But time was short. Regretfully, Theodore pushed John away, gasping for breath as John smirked back at him.
“Have to get to my 1PM class,” said Theodore breathlessly as he ran his fingers through his damp fringe. He belatedly noticed that he was still wearing his tie despite being topless, the striped garment falling between his cleavage.
“A shame,” John remarked, his hungry eyes following Theodore’s every movement.
Theodore started to pull his bra and shirt back on.
He moved around with care these days, if just so the momentum of his huge breasts didn’t throw him entirely off balance. He absently cradled the side of one with his hand as he pulled on his huge, amorphous sweater.
John just stood back, shamelessly admiring. Theodore felt dazed from the dopamine and couldn’t help the stupid smile covering his face.
“That’s not hiding anything,” John noted about the sweater.
“Yeah, no shit,” remarked Theodore as he adjusted the baggy material.
Before heading to his class, Theodore made a stop in the faculty lounge to grab his protein shake out of the fridge. He chugged it.
Lately he was having two of them per workday, and he was always rewarded with a warm tingling sensation that ran through his body afterwards. He had to admit that he quite enjoyed the feeling.
He made his way to class, walking gingerly to avoid excess wobbling. Various students and faculty members sent him odd, but covert, glances. As usual, Theodore did his best to ignore them.
He was breathless by the time he walked into the lecture hall. Dozens of students were seated and chattering, but they all fell silent when Theodore entered. Suddenly he had their undivided attention.
You’d think they’d have gotten used to it by now, Theodore thought, but even he knew that it was an unrealistic expectation. He had grown so fast, his breasts practically having popped up out of nowhere. Especially given his inability to hide them anymore, he suspected that he was quite the spectacle.
He awkwardly cleared his throat as he lowered his briefcase to his desk.
“Today, we are going to discuss the theme of guilt in the novel…’” Theodore proceeded with the lesson, trying not to indulge the distraction of his warm, bloated mammaries, which practically yearned to be touched and cradled at all times.
He was up to pumping four times a day now. The amount of milk that he was able to produce was just insane.
In fact, it had only been two hours since his last pumping session, and Theodore was already feeling rather full. He could feel his clothes tightening against him, but he did his best to endure it.
But god, he was hot. He tugged at his collar, aware that he was sweating like a damn pig, as he tried his best to proceed with the lecture. His breasts swayed gently as he gingerly walked around, discussing passages from the text.
He wrote some notes on the chalkboard, failing to notice that his chest was rubbing against it, wiping away prior words that he had written below the new ones.
Theodore looked down and frowned, trying to brush some of the chalk off his sweater. That proved to be a mistake. A big one. The sheer contact made him go tense, his body shivering. “Why don’t you guys take a fifteen minute break?” he practically squeaked.
The class collectively paused, then thawed, students getting up to use the facilities. Others stayed in their seats, drawing water bottles or energy drinks out of backpacks as they chatted with their neighbors or looked over their notes.
Theodore breathed deeply while trying to maintain a relaxed look. His extreme discomfort was somehow stifling. He wasn’t sure how he could tolerate another two hours of teaching. Despite his reservations, he peeled off his damp sweatshirt.
A student near the front of the room froze midway through popping a potato chip into his mouth.
Other students were putting away their beverages, while several hurried back into the lecture hall. It seemed that the fifteen minutes were up.
Theodore’s face was beet red. His button-down shirt was now skin-tight on him, gaps of flesh beginning to appear between straining buttons.
“Mmmgghhh…” He didn’t know how it was possible, but he felt fully engorged! Sweat trickling down his brow, Theodore attempted to pick up some chalk. His hands trembled as his breasts tightened. One of his shirt buttons popped off. “Oh god,” he whimpered.
Most of his students were slack-jawed, their eyes bulging as they stared at him. Not only had they had to acclimate to having an absurdly busty professor, but now they were bearing witness to his already-massive tits ballooning!
Theodore knew that this wouldn’t slide with the administration. He had to get out of there. “S-sorry,” he stammered, with little else explanation, before he clumsily grabbed his things and hurried out of the room.
-
Theodore was anxious.
Not only did he have to sit in traffic fidgeting from the discomfort of his over packed tits, but he had to contend with the fact that he might be getting fired.
He impatiently tried to change lanes, his horn honking as he unintentionally squished his chest into the steering wheel.
Several cars honked back, one man yelling out of his car window as another threw Theodore a vulgar hand gesture.
“Shit, sorry,” Theodore said, mostly to himself. “Fuck!” He screeched to a halt when he nearly crashed into the car adjacent to him.
The other car honked loud and long. More obscenities were shouted out windows. Theodore hunched his shoulders, sinking in his seat somewhat.
“You’re overreacting,” boomed John’s voice over the speakers.
Theodore had nearly forgotten that he had John on a bluetooth call.
“They can’t fire you for that,” John went on. He paused. “Why is everyone honking?”
“Finally,” Theodore hissed when he made it to an exit. He turned off the main road and drove several blocks, before swerving into John’s four-car driveway.
It was closer than Theodore’s place. “I’m at your house,” said Theodore, fatigued.
“Oh?” There was a pause. “Come on in.”
Theodore turned off his car, disconnecting the call.
When he made it up the driveway, John was already waiting at the door for him. “Long day?” quipped the older man, his eyes trailing up and down Theodore’s supple body.
Theodore just scoffed, letting himself in as John stepped aside for his passage.
Theodore plopped himself down on the living room couch, groaning as his breasts bounced with the movement.
“Wine?” said John, walking in with a bottle and two glasses. He poured some for each of them.
Theodore downed his. Not very classy, but he certainly appreciated the way it dulled his anxiety. He breathed deeply, not even noticing that John had yet to touch his own drink.
John poured him some more. “Better?” he said as he handed it to Theodore.
Theodore just hummed as he gazed down at the crimson liquid. He grimaced as he felt a twinge in his breasts, two more buttons popping off his shirt. With effort, he leaned forward, setting his wine on the coffee table.
“Your body is amazing. You really have nothing to be ashamed of,” John assured as Theodore unbuttoned the remains of his shirt with clammy fingers.
Theodore just panted, enjoying his freedom from constriction. His nipples were truly tremendous, thick as coke caps, and twice as long. His areola was puffy and pink. Everything was tingling.
“The administration can’t penalize you for a health condition,” John went on. “It’s not like you have any control over it.” His eyes glinted.
Theodore just focused on catching his breath. “I’m really packed right now,” he said pleadingly.
“You know I’ll take care of you,” John assured, though he didn’t move. He just gazed on with lascivious appreciation.
“Nrrrgghhhh…” Theodore groaned as his breasts tightened, pushing forward, droplets of milk springing free from his nipples.
But it wasn’t enough. Theodore whined as he tried squeezing them, yelping with each squirt. He was milking himself like a damn animal. He sobbed and squeezed, but he needed his pumps. This wasn’t nearly sufficient. He took to desperately rubbing; rubbing his tender skin. “J-John?” he entreated.
But John just sat back and watched.
-
In another week, they were the size of basketballs.
Theodore would wake up spraying. He could hardly get a good night of sleep. He had to pump himself at least every four hours, but could never seem to empty his breasts entirely.
He was always horny. Always hard and wanting. Between the relentless arousal and the constant pumpings, he was hardly holding his life together.
That morning, Theodore dragged himself to the kitchen, often cradling his breasts to offer what support he could. Simple things like making breakfast had become extremely difficult, largely due to the fact that Theodore just couldn’t see much past his chest anymore. His huge breasts were literally imposing on his field of vision.
Theodore did the best he could, fumbling to put together a cheese sandwich. When he finished, he was panting as though he had just run a marathon.
He finished getting ready and headed for the door, just hoping that his shoes matched. He couldn’t exactly see them.
His jugs heaved with his heavy breathing. Theodore continued to absently cradle them as he awkwardly closed and locked the door behind him.
His face was flushed. There was always an underlying warmth and arousal trying to steal his focus. The heat and pressure was overwhelming, but Theodore did his best to ignore it.
He made his way to his car, easing himself down into the drivers seat with a groan. He could not deny the uncomfortable way that his waistband was digging into his stomach. He seemed to have put on some weight.
Not surprising. Theodore had not worked out in a while. It was too uncomfortable with the wobbling weight of his fun-bags.
That, paired with the recent surge in his appetite, had resulted in a layer of softness he had never had previously.
Theodore hoped that it at least suited him. Or maybe balanced out the drastic dimensions of his chest, if just a little.
With a sigh, he stuck his keys into the ignition and started his vehicle.
Next Chapter
