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The Janitor, Part 8
🕑 Added 2022-09-10 18:27:43 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Summary: Derek Carter, CorpaCorp's Chief Executive Vice President, gets knocked up…by the janitor. And subsequently blackmailed by said janitor into carrying the baby (babies?) to term. And further blackmailed into doing various other disturbing things that exacerbate his expanding condition. All while fruitlessly battling an unwanted addiction to the aforementioned janitor's...impressive portfolio. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, stuffing, weight gain, butt expansion, pregnancy.
-
Derek was sitting in his living room wearing just a bandeau and a tight pair of briefs.
He was breathing heavily, looking down at his chest, at his…cleavage. A generous dip between swollen E-cups breasts that sat shelved on his huge belly. They felt hot, tight, pressurized, and uncomfortable. He knew they were just going to keep growing.
Derek looked over at the shopping bag he had dumped in the corner. Breast pumps, from Amy. She was always so sickeningly sympathetic and understanding. His own sister had purchased him fucking breast pumps. Derek looked away with a sniff. He ran his hand down his face and stared off at nothing for a while.
He was just so swollen. So uncomfortable. His belly was huge and unblemished, overfilling his lap, insides churning constantly. He cupped the side of the swell. It was just so heavy and packed, occupied by that perpetual feeling of tightness. It probably didn’t help that he was a bottomless pit lately, always desperate for more food and fucking. His life had spiraled completely out of control.
“Nghhh…” Derek groaned, leaning back as he was forced to acknowledge the pressure in his tits which had been increasing incrementally since his embarrassing, and public, incident. He couldn’t believe how far things had devolved. He was a man, pregnant, and now lactating. “Fuhhh…” he breathed. He’d been trying to ignore it. But there was just no way. His nipples started to sting.
Derek pressed his lips as it start happening again. The…the milk was seeping. Gently flowing out of him, in a sensation that offered relief, but also a new wave of fear that things were exacerbating. Then he couldn’t help himself. He slid his hand up, to his breast, groaning as he made contact with the hard nipple bulging against the bandeau. He rubbed it; gently squeezed. He groaned as the cotton was dampened even more, his nipple swelling to his teasing, pressing harder into the fabric. “Fuck,” he whimpered.
Maybe this beat moping. He felt himself harden as he fidgeted, until his dick was prodding against the underside of his huge belly. Maybe he could get off just from this. Just from nipple stuff. The janitor had done it a time or two before. It was just — it was intensely arousing, milk seeping against his fingers, soaking through the flimsy garment, until it was rolling down his huge stuffed belly as he groaned and pinched, breasts feeling unbearably full, with heat and pressure, as they rocked and he teased. It just wasn’t enough.
Derek’s free hand impulsively shot down to grip his cock, though with his huge belly in the way, the angle was awkward, and he could hardly get a decent grip. He groaned and struggled, then started cursing under his breath. He irritably snatched his phone off the coffee table, intending to call the janitor, but stopped himself. He couldn’t, not after…after the milk mishap. The creep would be so smug. And proud that he had Derek squirting like a cow now. Derek couldn’t face him. Not now. Not in his current state, so frustrated and fragile. Derek wouldn’t be able to take the mocking and insult, it would be too infuriating. So Derek tried to breathe through it. Tried to cool down. Even though he felt like crying.
With his fingers shaking, he closed out the call screen on his phone. To distract himself, he opened his work email and started to aimlessly scroll.
He wondered if this had been a mistake. Though usually littered with memos, inquiries, and meeting dates, his email seemed mostly junk these days, his position having unofficially shrunken to being some foul company mascot. There was the occasional invitation to some televised interview or public appearance, or just reporters asking him for statements on his politics or the pregnancy. One persistent stranger was demanding to meet Derek, his messages becoming more desperate as they progressed. Others were quite blunt, sending him deranged questions or weird sexual messages. There was an unsurprising amount of hate mail, people calling him an abomination, a freak of nature, or a sacrilegious monster. One message explicitly demanded that he kill himself. Derek even found several memes. He opened an email and flinched at a gif of him visibly inflating, buttons popping open to give way to his expanding belly, then the gif reset. Cringing, he put down his phone.
Derek dropped his head back, closing his eyes. He never wanted to leave his house again.
And yet that wasn’t an option for him.
-
Derek was all smiles when he went to work on Monday. He was wearing a custom-made shirt and blazer that felt like a circus tent draped over him. He cupped his belly lovingly, pretending to be content and not miserable. He hated everything about this, from his huge belly, to his fat tits, and his embarrassing waddle.
And yet even then, he found himself terribly, terribly aroused, the pressure on his prostate particularly intolerable that day.
He breathed through it as he went to his office, closing the door, and quickly doffing the blazer. It was too fucking hot. Derek caught his breath as he leaned on his desk, rubbing his pressurized abdomen. He didn’t know why, it didn’t help.
There was a meek knock on his office door. Derek frowned, but responded, “Come in.”
Some latin kid in a poorly-tailored suit shuffled inside, his eyes on the floor. He was in his late teens or early twenties, and attractive, if a little chubby. It took Derek a moment to recognize him as an intern. Which still didn’t explain what the hell he was doing Derek’s office.
“Who are you looking for?” Derek asked as amiably as he could. Interns did not report to Derek. They were useless to him except when he needed one to summon his assistant. Derek didn’t have much tolerance for incompetence and error. He didn’t like when people wasted his time, either, especially considering that he’d rather be curled up in a hole somewhere at any given moment.
“I, um —” the kid stammered, finally meeting Derek’s eyes. “I’m Nick Torres. I’m an intern in…er…finan—”
“How can I help you?” said Derek, his smile strained.
“Er…” The intern — Nick — was sweating. “I’m —p-pregnant.”
Derek’s mind went blank.
“It’s c-crazy, right?” He looked positively petrified. “But when you went public — I mean, it had to be a sign or something. What are the chances? Two of us, at the same company! I guess we’re in this together. I mean, I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it all. I’m only an intern. And I’m, I’m going to have a — well, its really insane.” Nick’s arms unconsciously wrapped around his midsection, which was gently bloated under his loose button-down shirt. Nick’s uneasy gaze shifted to Derek’s own abdomen, his face pale and daunted.
All was silent for a moment, Nick still looking at Derek inquiringly, waiting for some response.
“Get out,” said Derek.
Nick blinked. “What?”
“Get the hell out of my office.”
Nick was flabbergasted. “But — but all the stuff you do for pregnant men —” he started.
“I’m not like you. I don’t know you. You have nothing to do with me, so stay the hell away,” Derek seethed. “Now get the hell out of my office!”
Looking completely horrified, Nick scurried off.
Derek was left flushed and panting, belly heaving. His heart was racing, his mind reeling as the babies writhed inside of him. He was absolutely infuriated.
Ignoring the way his body ached and strained in protest, Derek pushed himself off from the edge of the desk he had been leaning on. He waddled out of his office door, and thankfully the intern was nowhere in sight by then. His secretary gave a concerned look as Derek stomped forward, teeth grit, face contorted in rage. People saw him and quickly steered clear of his path. Derek could muster none of the effort needed to put on his contented façade, not now.
He found himself bursting into the supply room, deep in the bowels of the basement system. Derek could hardly remember his journey there, he just found himself glaring heatedly at janitor, breasts wobbling with his thin breathing.
“You —”Derek forced out, hardly able to compose coherent sentences in his state of fury. “You—fucked — an intern!?”
The janitor’s face had been curious and smug, a box of some detergent clutched in his hand where he stood by a shelf in the rather dark and dingy space. Slowly, his lips curved into a smirk. “Oh yeah, I gave him one. A big one. But he’s not special, not like you.” The janitor seemed entirely amused.
“You piece of shit,” Derek snarled.
“I hate to break it to you, boss, but we’re not exactly exclusive. It’s cute that you’re jealous, though.”
Derek started spewing curses. But that wasn’t enough. He closed in on the janitor, striking him again and again, ignoring his own fatigue, discomfort, and profound decline in physicality, because his cuffs hardly seem bothersome to the janitor. Then there was the divide of his belly between them, which made Derek’s hits hardly land at all.
The janitor caught his wrists and started shoving him back. Derek gasped as he was suddenly pinned against the wall, the contact going straight to his cock.
“I like you when you’re feisty,” the janitor remarked, leering and pressing, then he leaned down. He admired Derek’s chest, nosing at them through Derek’s shirt. “What have we here?”
“God…fuck,” Derek groaned, as the janitor mouthed at his nipple through his shirt. The nubs had already been erect, but now they swelled, just pushing out and bulging to the janitor’s lips, now seeping generously. Derek knew he wasn’t supposed to let him. But he couldn’t help it.
“Tasty,” the janitor remarked as his tongue ran circles around the nipple. “I told you I’d give you a good pair of jugs, didn’t I? Now let’s get them bigger. Let’s get everything bigger. Your gut, your tits. Let’s blow you up.”
The janitor ripped open the top of Derek’s shirt and started sucking the nipple bare. Derek’s throat arched, his eyes rolling upward at the unbelievable pleasure. His hand fumbled down, towards his groin, but as usual, ran into the issue of his belly getting in the way. Still, he tried to get a good grip.
The janitor slapped his hand aside. “Having issues jerking yourself now, fatty?” he mocked. “My, our kids are getting so big. Wait a minute. I’ll get you off.” He pulled back, grinning. “Take off your pants.”
This was so fucking hot. Derek dutifully unbuttoned his pants and began to shove them down his hips as the janitor walked over to a cart of supplies in the corner. Derek grimaced down at the way his breasts were now protruding freely out of his shirt, nipples releasing consistent droplets of milk.
He managed to kick his pants off as he stood there, leaning back on the wall, breathing heavily as he cupped his huge belly. His baby full-belly. Packed with the janitor’s kids. Jesus, what the fuck was he doing? And yet, even then, Derek was impossibly hard.
The janitor had pulled out a large thermos. Derek was surprised that, right there in the supply room, the janitor was putting together a milkshake. Maybe a simpler version than the ones that necessitated a blender, otherwise he had blended it in advance. The janitor was pulling additional ingredients off the cart or out of the mini-fridge fridge, adding them to the thermos one by one. Again, Derek saw the pill bottles.
This time was different, though. The janitor was speaking calmly, identifying the pills and powders as he dumped them into the beverage. Telling Derek blatantly what each one was for.
“This is a powerful fertility medicine. And this one is an appetite enhancer. Here’s a drug to help the user retain fat and calories; its basically a weight-gain treatment. Then these are hormones that increase milk production. An extra fertility drug. And another appetite enhancer, though it works a bit differently from the other one. The combination just leaves you fucking ravenous, doesn’t it? This drug encourages rapid growth in preemies, not that we’ll be dealing with any preemies, you’re gonna be carrying these kids beyond cooked, to fuckin’ kindergarten if I have anything to do with it.”
Derek was shocked. “That’s what you’ve been feeding me?” he snapped, completely appalled and disgusted. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He held his heaving belly. Who knew what all these fucking drugs were doing to his body.
The janitor looked up from his concoction. “The real question is, what’s wrong with you? It’s not like you’ve ever put up any resistance.”
“I—I didn’t know—”
“Well now you do,” said the janitor as he walked over, offering the huge, drug-saturated, shake.
Derek turned his face away. “Get that away from me.”
Then the janitor grabbed his dick. Grabbed it just right, not hindered the way Derek was. Derek groaned, his lips parting. It had been a really, really long fucking weekend. And maybe that had been the janitor’s intention, because Derek felt fucking desperate. He fruitlessly tried to rock, but the janitor held them still.
“Drink it.”
Just a little…a little more. He was so close. He’d felt on the cusp so many times in the past few days, it was driving him absolutely insane.
“Drink it.” The janitor held the thermos to Derek’s lips.
“Ngghhhh…fuck…”
“Drink it or I stop.”
Derek didn’t know when sex had gotten this kind of hold on him. He had been a tempered, stable, professional. He’d never let sex control him like this.
“The hormones, right?” The janitor taunted. “They make it so fucking good. You should be grateful. Few men get to come close to these kinds of highs. It’s your condition. The bigger you get, the more intense it’ll feel. You should be grateful for my babies blowing you up.” He squeezed gently, causing Derek to grunt out. “Now drink the fucking shake, and don’t ever disobey me again.”
Derek grabbed the thermos and chugged the shake, choking slightly as the janitor began to stroke him ever so slow. And it was everything. He just had to get this stuff down.
He was coughing when he finished, coughing and whimpering and panting.
“Good boy.” The janitor released him, causing Derek to whine pitifully.
“Turn around. Gonna fuck you till you come.”
Derek had the best orgasm of his life.
