by Mac Flynn
Sam frowned as she got up off the bed and tried to walk off the unknown sensation. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she definitely knew it wasn't natural. There was no way she could have ate that much food unless something was wrong with herself. She paced the floor as she clutched at her bulging stomach. The skin there was tight and each shift of her body seemed to touch off a nerve to that focal point.
Then she was hit with that feeling again, the one she'd gotten earlier in the day after her feed at the restaurant. This time was worse, however. The strange force emanating from her belly caused a haze in her mind and she barely had enough thought to stumble back to her bed.
She lay herself out on the sheets as her most base instincts seemed to overtake any logical ideas. She knew something was happening to her body, that it was pulling at her. It was trying to pull out the feral side of her personality, to gain control of her mind. She couldn't help herself as she glided her hand over the taught flesh of her stomach as her breathing quickened. Sweat began to break out across her body as she slid down the wall onto her pillows. It was almost like the food mixed with whatever else was in her body were creating an aphrodisiac inside herself. The more she experienced it, the more sensual it became.
Now both her hands were massaging the belly mound as she began to groan. She lifted her shirt higher as her breasts, barely constrained by the shirt, pushed out onto her stomach. They were swollen and pulsing with heat over her abdomen. Her folds softened and soaked themselves as she closed her eyes and leaned back her head. She pushed down the band of her pants to cradle her stomach between her hands. It pounded with life above her fingers as her heart pounded with pleasure.
She felt like a million hands were spreading out from her belly and covering her in slow, sensual touches. Her body ached with the feeling of so much stimulation, but she pleaded for more. Her legs squirmed beneath the weight as she felt her stomach expand. The skin stretched out and the heat inside her body increased ten fold.
She was panting now as her smooth body lay covered in silky sweat. She writhed along the covers as she felt a tension build up inside of her. She didn't know what was going to happen at the end, but she wanted it to come. She begged for it to come. Those hands were insistent. They touched her more deeply than any penetration she'd ever experienced. They caressed her skin from the inside and sent shivers up and down her body.
She squirmed and groaned as the sensual pleasure climbed higher and higher. Those invisible hands edged her closer. They pushed her on.
Then she was blinded by light as her body shook in the throws of an orgasm greater than any she had experienced. Her body twitched and jerked as she screamed her delight. Her ecstasy lasted for a good minute and when it was done, she was exhausted.
Sam sighed for the feeling of perfect contentment she felt. Nothing had ever been that pleasing, and she ached to feel it again. She leisurely massaged the swollen bump on her stomach. She didn't know or understand what was happening to her body, but whatever it was had sent her into a euphoria unlike any other.
She was exhausted from the effort, however, and she quickly slipped into a deep slumber.
Sam groaned as she rolled over and cuddled her pillow. She was too comfortable to get up and go to that hellish workplace. It was much better if she'd just stay in bed all day and pretend to be sick. Then she'd have the entire weekend to herself without any crazy coworkers, psychotic supervisors, or amorous employers.
Then Sam remembered she did have the weekend to herself. She smiled and dug deeper into the covers. She'd survived her first week of the new job. Well, barely, but a miss was as good as a mile. Now she could reward herself by spending as much time as she wanted in bed sleeping off the exhaustion she now felt.
She would have enjoyed such a day if it weren't for the rumbling noise in her stomach.
Sam sighed and flung aside the covers. There was just no arguing with her belly lately. That thing was too insatiable not to appease.
She stretched and noticed there was some inflexibility at her midriff. She glanced down and frowned at the slight bulge in her shirt. She pulled back the cloth and her jaw dropped to the floor.
There was a small, firm bump in her stomach. It wasn't like she'd just eaten a ton of food like last night and her belly had momentarily stretched. There was a permanent, inarguable extension at her waistline.
"What the hell?" she muttered to herself.
Sam gingerly reached down and drifted her hand over the small ball which she seemed to have swallowed. It was tight and didn't bend at her touch. The skin was firm and stretched, and her belly button was distended outward.
This just had to be a nightmare, or some sort of bad effect from eating too much food. Maybe that was it. Maybe she'd eaten something that really hadn't agreed with her and now she was severely bloated. Maybe some exercise would work it off.
Sam swung her legs over the bed and pushed off. It was definitely a little more difficult moving around with such a waistline, but she managed to get used to it as she tried doing jumping jacks. Unfortunately she was out of shape and out of practice, and after a few she was huffing and puffing like the last dinosaur.
"All right, maybe try something easier," she encouraged herself.
Sam knew she was desperate, terrified even, but she had to try do to something. Otherwise she probably would have fallen in full blown panic and been calling 911 for an ambulance to come take her to the hospital.
This time she attempted to do some stretches, and started out by trying to reach her toes. She'd always been elastic, so this had never been a problematic exercise. Now, though, she had that obstruction and her fingers were a few inches from her feet when she finally gave up.
"Okay, how about jogging in place."
She pumped her arms and tried to evenly breath as her feet moved up and down to a silent rhythm. She was still doing it a few minutes later when her stomach rumbled its displeasure at her neglect. It was probably a good idea to stop because her feet were starting to kill her. The floor wasn't soft enough to be pounding on without a mat beneath her.
Sam went out into her kitchen and was reminded she hadn't cleaned up after her last gorging as the empty plates and bowls greeted her eyes. She waved her hand at them as though to make them disappear and she started rummaging through the cupboards. As she knew from last night, there were only a few boxes of cereal left and some of those had been opened. She downed them one at a time and still picked through the drawers and her pantry for something, anything to eat.
During this desperate need Sam heard her apartment buzzer ring and she glanced over at the door. She sure as hell wasn't expecting any visitors at all, much less today, and the mail didn't arrive until later. She closed the cupboards and tried to neatly stack the dishes as quickly as possible, but the person on the other side buzzed again before she was done.
"Coming!" she shouted.
Abandoning the mess Sam walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. She frowned when she realized it was Mr. Smith standing in the hall waiting for admittance. He was holding several bags in both hands, and the creepiest part was he was staring straight at the peephole. She cautiously opened the door part way and peeked her head out. She wasn't really dressed for visitors, either.
"Good morning, Miss Olsen," he pleasantly greeted. Sam nearly missed the words when her nose smelled the scent of food wafting from the bags. "Mr. Davies instructed I bring you some nourishment, as he assumed you were perhaps out of food by this time."
"What?" Her mind was a little foggy with hunger, and she was a little confused by what he'd just told her. Davies had expected her to be out of food? "How'd he know that?" Smith smiled, and she wasn't sure if she liked that look on his face.
"I believe he intends to explain that to you personally later this day." He held up the bags and cocked his head to look inside. "Would you be willing to let me set these items on your table? They are not as light as they looked." They actually looked pretty heavy. T
he bags bulged out in all directions and he had at least five in each hand.
"Oh, sorry!" She opened the door and he stepped inside. She made sure not to lock the door behind him, just in case he was going to leave soon. "You can, um, put them on the counter." The table was still full.
"My pleasure." He set them down as instructed and glanced over at her dining area. She followed behind him, mostly at the beckoning of the food. "Would you care for me to wash your dishes?" he offered. "I would be very glad for the task, as Mr. Davies has also instructed me to remain with you until he arrives."
"Wait, what?" This was information she really would have wanted before she let him inside her apartment.
"I am to stay he-"
"I get that part," she angrily interrupted. "But for how long is that?"
"I'm afraid even I don't know the answer to that question, Miss Olsen." He wasn't wasting any time solely talking. The man had already picked up a number of the plates and was moving the whole mess to the sink. "But if you do not feel comfortable having me in the apartment, I can sit out in the car until I am called for."
"No no, it's fine." That sounded too mean to make him do that, and he was doing her a favor by cleaning the dishes. There was also the aroma of food, and she was nearly driven to distraction by the smell. "Is all that for me?" she asked as she nodded to the pile of bags. "I mean, was any of it yours?"
"I have already eaten, so the entirety of those packages are yours to have." He smiled again when he noticed her eyes hungrily dart over to them like they were a kill waiting to be devoured. "You may have them at any time, though most of them are breakfast meals."
Sam left him to do her chore and swiftly moved over to the defenseless food. She had half a mind to rip into them then and there, but there really wasn't any good spot for her to sit. Instead she grabbed about half of the contents and moved over to the couch. Smith wasn't kidding when he said those bags were heavy. She wondered how the handles hadn't broken on him.
Now sitting comfortably on the furniture, Sam nearly tore open the bags to get at the nourishment, and her mouth watered when she was greeted with all kinds of good stuff. A sausage and egg casserole was smothered in cheese, bacon and eggs were mixed in a shiny coat of grease, and for her vegetarian impulses, there was tofu mixed with tomatoes and herbs to create a tasty paste of heavenly delight.
She sat down and was about to use her hands to dig in when Mr. Smith set a plate, fork and knife in front of her.
"You may need these."
"Oh, um, thanks," she sheepishly replied.
Sam emptied one of the bags' contents onto the plate and didn't care how mixed up they were as she devoured the entirety. She wasn't satisfied until the fifth bag and been consumed, but at that point she sat back and sighed. Smith took that as a pretty reliable sign that she was done.
"Finished?" he asked as he removed the licked plate and empty bags.
"You don't have to do that," she insisted. It was a little uncomfortable for her to have someone pick up after her. She'd always been on her own, and never needed anyone's help with such a simple task.
"It's my pleasure to serve you, Miss Olsen," he countered. She accidentally burped in reply and a blush came over her face as he smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed the meal. I made the food myself."
"Wow, you're good," she complimented. Sam patted her stomach and winced when she was bluntly reminded of her growing problem.
"Is something wrong?" He couldn't help but notice the troubled look across her face.
"Well, do you know anything about indigestion?" Sam questioned. She figured it was worth a try asking.
"No more than the average person, I'm afraid." He moved the other bags along the counter and began to pile the remaining food into the fridge. It was nearing bursting when he finally shut the door. "Was there any particular reason you wished to ask me that?"
"It's, well, I just haven't been feeling well," she admitted. "I think I've been eating a little too much, so my stomach's kind of been all bloated and stuff." She seemed to really catch her attention with this information.
"Would you mind if I took a look?"
"A look at what?" She honestly wasn't sure what he wanted to look at.
"Your stomach."
"Oh no, that's fine. I'm sure it's nothing," she insisted as she rolled herself off the couch. Her stomach felt even more expanded than before, but she figured she was piling trouble on top of trouble. "Probably just some indigestion or something."
"You needn't feel any alarm. I'm an accredited medical doctor." Sam wasn't sure she was willing to believe this sudden bit of news. "I merely wish to make sure you are not experiencing any physical ailments."
"No, really, I feel fine." She started backing up toward the front door, and he made no move to follow her. Under no circumstances was she going to let a near-total stranger take a look at her body. Except for Davies, but that was a different matter.
"If you insist," he agreed. "But I must mention Mr. Davies may also insist your being examined."
"Yeah, well, he isn't here right now, is he?" she asked as she reached for the door.
That's when it opened, and in stepped Davies himself. He scanned the room and assessed the situation rather quickly.
"Good morning to you both," he greeted after that brief pause. He glanced at his lover, who was finding this situation more and more ridiculous and out of her control. "You're looking as lovely as ever, Miss Olsen. I trust Mr. Smith has kept good care of you during my absence."
"What in the hell are you doing here?" Even if she had been warned of his arrival, she still didn't like him barging his way into her apartment like he belonged there. She glanced over at Smith, who still stood near the kitchen counter. "What are either of you doing here?"
"To care for you, my love," Davies insisted as though that were a matter of fact. He tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders, but she dodged and escaped to the living room area. He wasn't too bothered by her antics, however. "I'm afraid you're in a pretty bad spot right now, and will probably need all the help we can give to you."
"I'm just fine, thank you very much," she snapped back. If she needed help she would have called 911 by now. "And if you don't mind, I'd like you both to leave."
"I don't think that's a goo-"
"Right now." She didn't want any arguments as her temper flared up. Regardless of how kindly they'd treated her in the past, she felt threatened by two men standing in her apartment against her wishes. She took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of her temper. "I appreciate the food and you seeing that I'm all right, but I really just want to be left alone right now." Her stomach uncomfortably shifted and she set her hand on it. Davies noticed her action and he frowned.
"I know this is going to make you mad, but I'm afraid we're going to be staying here for a few days," he repeated in a softer, less commanding voice. "You aren't well, and surely you're aware of that."
"I'm feeling fine." She was hit with another of those stomach attacks again. "I just need to stop eating so much and get some rest. Something I'm not going to do with you two standing over me."
"If you're to safely carry my child to maturity, than I'm going to have to insist otherwise."
Sam was absolutely dumbfounded by his statement. She knew there'd been that risk of getting pregnant, but to hear him state it as an undeniable fact was not something she wanted to hear. It was also something she wasn't willing to believe.
"How the hell do you know I'm pregnant?" she accused. If what he said was true, they couldn't be sure for another month or so.
"Look at yourself, Sam," he gently scolded. "Can you honestly believe what you're experiencing is normal? That it's merely the side effects of some mysterious illness."
"It's just an allergic reaction!" she argued. She grimaced when the feeling in her stomach pounded through her whole body. "I ate something that didn't agree with me." She shot an accusatory look at Smith. "What the hell did you put in that stuff."
"
He didn't do anything, Sam," Davies interrupted. "It's your body reacting to the nutrients and trying to acclimate to the child growing inside you."
"Shut up!" She didn't want to hear any more of this. It was ridiculous and just as stupid as him admitting he was some sort of demon or something. "Just stay away from me! Both of you!"
Sam backed up toward the safety of her bedroom and none of the men followed. She locked the door behind herself and still they didn't make a move to come after her. She leaned her ear against the door, but all she could hear was the soft mumbling of them talking to each other.
Sam turned away and breathed a sigh of relief. She was okay for a little while at least, but she couldn't stay in her bedroom forever. She glanced around and cursed herself for getting the second floor room. Now that nice view wasn't so nice as she moved over to the window.
That's when the big pain hit her.
Sam cried out as she clutched at her stomach and fell to her knees. There wasn't any more of that post-food euphoria as her belly pulsed. The movement caused pressure across her whole body and she felt the skin on her stomach start to stretch as the bump beneath her hands pushed out.
"Sam!" Davies cried out from behind the door. "Sam, are you all right?" The pain was so great she couldn't find enough focus to call out to him. A minute later she heard the door behind her bust open and strong arms grabbed her shoulders. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Sam nodded down at her stomach and one of his hands settled on the growing mound. It pressed against his fingers and he frowned. Before she knew what was happening he'd scooped her up and was putting her on the bed. Smith appeared at Davies' side and gently pushed his employer away as he checked all her vital signs.
"Her body isn't handling the stress," he informed Davies when the quick examination was done. "I recommend a transfer before her condition deteriorates further."
"Agreed."
Sam had no either what either of them were talking about as sweat broke out across her brow. Her body began to tremble and one hand clenched at the covers while the other rubbed her swollen stomach. The skin was now an unhealthy red and there was a great weight on her chest.