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Obsessed, Part 5
🕑 Added 2024-01-29 02:09:11 +0000 UTC$5/Bronze 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. He proceeds to secretly drug Theodore, and Theodore has no idea why his breasts are suddenly starting to grow again. Contains: Male: breast expansion, weight gain, lactation, eventual pregnancy.
-
When they got to Theodore’s house, John escorted him inside, making sure that he was alright. It was just really…kind of him. Theodore had always seen the math professor as cold and terse, but was now warming up to this friendlier side of him.
As Theodore sat down on the couch, John went to the kitchen and got him a large glass of water. Theodore gulped the water down, though it barely took the edge off his thirstiness. As he lowered the now-empty glass and caught his breath, he recalled his present state, his eyes drifting down to his chest. His huge breasts were stretching out his sweater, their existence no longer even vaguely concealed. John Cohen had seen them and so far had hardly even reacted. Instead of acting shocked or disturbed, he had simply helped Theodore get home.
Now John sat down on the other end of the couch. There was an awkward silence, Theodore fidgeting a with his hands.
He was panting quietly, his body flushed and heated. His breasts felt strangely bloated. Without the support of his compression vest, Theodore tried not to move much. Every time one of his swollen nipples dragged against the inside of his shirt, he would tense up, hardly able to contain his arousal.
“Is it…surgical?” John finally said, breaking the silence. “Are you transitioning?”
Theodore felt his cheeks reddening as he shook his head. “No, er… I’m not trans or anything. I just — well, it’s a really long story.” Bashfully, he stared at the floor.
“I have time.” John crossed one of his legs over the other. Theodore could feel the older man’s gaze on him.
He slowly looked up, meeting John’s gaze. The authority in the Math professor’s eyes was somewhat comforting, and Theodore couldn’t help lowering his guard. Something about John’s maturity just made him feel safe. “I grew them,” Theodore breathed.
John simply stared, a line forming between his brows. “Are you serious?” he asked.
Theodore nodded. “It just sort of…happened, and well — they just keep growing. I guess things have gotten a little out of control.” Theodore glanced again at the cantaloupe-sized mounds heaving on his chest.
John drew in a long breath. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.
“Yeah,” Theodore managed, unable to elaborate. At that moment, he didn’t think he could explain what he had done to himself or why he had done it.
Oddly, this was the first time Theodore had noticed how attractive John was. The older man was a highly distinguished professor; a by-the-book sort of guy. Theodore had never had much reason to think about John at all. The recent bout of kindness was unexpected, yet a pleasant surprise. John had never been anything more than it indifferent towards Theodore and the other faculty members at the University, as far as Theodore had seen.
“It seems like a lot of pressure,” John said.
“What do you mean?” Theodore responded, his face heating. How did John know? There was no denying that Theodore’s breasts had been feeling weirdly full and tightover the past few days.
“The new position, the tenure-track, your heavy class schedule, and now you’re going through this — health issue,” John elaborated.
“Oh.” John was referring to emotionalpressure, as in, stress. “It’s not really an issue,” Theodore spoke before he really thought about it. “I mean, health-wise. It’s just something that some people develop, I guess. Women, usually,” he added, awkwardly. Theodore tried not to fidget or look down at his chest.
There was a pause, John just gazing at him with an unreadable expression.
“You must think I’m a total freak,” said Theodore miserably.
“No,” John insisted. “On the contrary, I find you very unique and…” he trailed off. He wasn’t usually one to hesitate. “Well, I think it’s attractive,” John finished decisively.
Theodore’s blush spread to his ears. He was stunned by the interest in John’s eyes.
Theodore found that he didn’t mind it. John was likable, and kind, in that brusque way of his. The fact that this mature, older, and authoritative man was showing interest in him only served to turn Theodore on.
John moved closer.
Relationships between faculty members at the University were discouraged, but it wasn’t explicitly prohibited the way dating a student was. They couldn’t get fired for this. Theodore doubted they could even get penalized, not where John was involved. John practically ran things.
Which was yet more…arousing. Theodore’s eyelids fluttered down as John closed their distance.
This was crazy. This was – happening!
Their lips met in a hungry kiss.
-
Theodore liked John a lot. It was new and interesting.
Theodore would feel his cheeks heat up when they passed each other in hallways at the University. John would nod professionally. The whole thing felt secret and illicit, which just made all the more intense somehow.
John was a distraction. Theodore could hardly focus on teaching students when all he could think about what’s what he and John might get up to in the coming hours.
But Theodore tried his best, even though he was further distracted by the increasing constriction of his compression vests. Even the looser ones were brutally tight, the discomfort bordering on painful. And there was only so much the garments could do to hide his developments.
Theodore’s wardrobe evolved from his oversized blazers and amorphous sweaters to actual coats and jackets. Big ones, that were baggy, and entirely inappropriate for indoor wear. He was practically swimming in the oversized bubble jacket he had on that day, the sleeves going past his fingers and the waist hanging loosely. Its warmth, paired with the heat radiating off of his breasts, left Theodore stifled, his body pouring sweat.
The students were staring. Theodore suspected that they were having difficulty focusing themselves, when he was being such a spectacle. He must have looked absolutely ridiculous. He wondered if his attire was reportable. He wasn’t sure if this qualified as violating faculty dress code.
Theodore was just relieved when his final class that day came to a close. He wearily packed his briefcase as students filtered out of the lecture hall.
He found himself tugging on the collar of his jacket, desperately wanting air. He thought he might zip it down an inch, maybe two, once the class had fully emptied. Then he would make a quick stop in his office to pick up some paperwork and get the hell out of there. Meet up with John later.
“I thought you said you were trying not to grow,” someone’s voice interrupted Theodore’s thoughts.
Theodore looked up to find Mike standing across the desk, glaring bitterly. The final student exiting the room threw a curious glance before she shut the door behind her.
“Isn’t that why you dumped me?” Mike went on.
Mike was pushing things—confronting him like this, right in the classroom, where anyone passing might notice and perceive, maybe even start inferring. It felt like a threat. Theodore closed his briefcase sharply. “How can I help you?” he asked tightly.
“You really think you’re hiding anything?” Mike snarked.
Well of course Mikecould tell. But he already knew full wellwhat was going on under Theodore’s jacket. It wasn’t the same for everyone else. Or so Theodore told himself.
He gritted his teeth. “Anything at all?”
Mike reached out too quickly for Theodore to react. It looked as though he would grab Theodore’s collar, but instead he seized the zipper with his fingers, yanking it down swiftly, causing Theodore’s jacket to fall open. And as furious as Theodore felt, his body was washed in relief.
The cool air felt amazingon his flushed, sweaty flesh. Theodore was only wearing a thin tank top that was pasted to him by sweat and its tightness. He had outgrown it at least a week ago, his deep line of cleavage pushing out generously over the neckline.
Mike hissed a curse, his eyes glued to the mounds which were decidedly larger than the last time he had seen them. He licked his lips, looking wicked and ravenous. He reached out again, as though to—
The door opened.
Jolted out of his daze, Theodore pulled his jacket closed. Mike instinctively retracted his hand. They both looked up at John.
Theodore sagged, leaning against chalkboard.
“Is there a problem here?” John asked coldly.
Mike looked irritated. He glared between John and Theodore, before seeming to take a moment to inhale and temper himself. “No,” Mike finally said. “Just had a question about the assignment.” With another glare at Theodore, he turned and left, not without throwing the two professors a suspicious glance.
Theodore was exhausted, his skin feeling burning hot. He allowed the top of his jacket to fall open, just a little. The air felt blissful on his sweaty cleavage. John came closer, cornering him there against the chalkboard.
“You okay?” John asked as he caged Theodore with his arms.
God, this was hot. Anyone could walk in at any moment. John was always such a rule-follower, almost pedantic in his professionalism. But not now. Not with him. Theodore savored the ego boost this thought awarded him.
“Yeah,” Theodore managed. “Mike’s just—”
“I don’t care about Mike,” John interrupted as he took hold of the jacket. Theodore allowed him to pull it fully open, John’s gaze drinking in his body. They had made out a little at Theodore’s house the other day, but John hadn’t exactly seen much. Theodore’s cheeks heated as John appraised him.
“Can I?” John asked softly.
Theodore weakly nodded.
John pushed the jacket sleeves partly off Theodore’s shoulders, so that Theodore’s round breasts protruded out entirely. The mounds were only getting fatter by the day, growing bigger and rounder rather than drooping the way they should have at their weight. The F-cup bra Theodore was wearing struggled to contain them, cups pinching into flesh that had outgrown them.
The bra was only just tolerable. It was soft and wireless. Theodore had actually found the undergarment online at a maternity store, embarrassingly enough. But he didn’t think he could have handled anything that was harsher.
His nipples were swollen and erect, bulging visibly. They were unusually large, growing in congruence the mounds on which they perched.
Sometimes Theodore couldn’t believe how hot his breasts had gotten. He was sure this couldn’t be normal. He felt like his body was a furnace, breasts tight and achy, sometimes tingling. Getting through work was hell some days. Going home was a new type of torture, his being in sexual overdrive, nipples aching to be abused.
Just the thought was dizzying. Theodore’s breasts felt as though they were pulsing. His nipples stung, like they were getting even moreerect somehow, as he waited in anticipation.
Gently, John cupped the side of Theodore’s left breast, grazing the nipple with his thumb.
“Nrrrgghhh…” Theodore groaned, gripping the front of John’s shirt. He couldn’t believe how desperate his body was. He tried to get control of himself. “S-sorry,” he stammered, loosening his grip. “They’ve just been r-really sensitive,” he gasped, deeply wishing he was at home or somewhere that wasn’t as public as a University classroom.
“Don’t apologize,” said John.
Theodore gave a shaky laugh. “Been trying not to touch them.”
John just hummed in acknowledgment. Slowly, cruelly, he withdrew his hand and pulled Theodore’s jacket back around him. “Let’s get out of here.”
Theodore agreed.
-
John had a nice place. As would be expected of a senior, tenured professor at an elite university.
Theodore sat on the living room couch as he gazed absently at the books lining a shelf on the far wall. Unsurprisingly, most of them were related to math and economics.
Returning from the kitchen, John carried two glasses of wine. He handed one to Theodore as he sat down beside him.
Theodore took a generous gulp in hopes of soothing his frayed nerves, and that ongoing discomfort.
The moment Theodore lowered his wine glass, he was ambushed with a kiss. He fell into it willingly, his hands clinging onto John, pulling him closer, but not so close that it was painful.
John pulled back, his eyes trailing over Theodore’s body, the jacket no longer present to hide and distort things.
“Is it okay if I…?”
Theodore nodded eagerly, not even aware of what John had been about to ask. But he found out. Theodore whimpered as John pulled Theodore’s sweat-damp tank top up over his chest. Then John reached around him, unclasping Theodore’s bra so quickly and expertly, Theodore wondered if he had a hetero streak.
Then Theodore’s torso was naked. He breathed heavily as John’s lip curled with the hungriest look Theodore had ever seen.
John dove into his chest, kissing and licking, brutally slow, torturously meticulous. Careful, not reckless, like Mike had been. John sucked the flesh, planting kisses on the areola, sometimes circling Theodore’s nipple with his tongue but never making contact.
Theodore sunk his fingers into John’s hair, trying not to buck as he groaned and fidgeted. His body trembled, each of his breasts feeling absurdly tight, feeling like balloons that just might pop.
He couldn’t make sense of it. This sudden change in sensation, his breasts going from soft and fleshy, to fat and bloated in just days with no explanation.
And somehow they felt as though they were getting heavier, tighter – so tight Theodore could hardly take it. “Errrrghhh…” he grunted as he struggled to hold on, nipples pushing and aching, swelling and seeming to pucker. “C-can’t…” he groaned, feeling on the cusp of…of something, but then John pulled back, rubbing his arm; murmuring reassuringly.
Theodore slumped back against the cushions as he struggled to breathe. His chest almost seemed as though it was throbbing, and he felt a distinct lack of relief.
