Cassarah's Saga - Nofunds - Original Work [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Office work wasn't exactly the most glamorous job. Like the humble, white sedan, employees at Bellegarde Inc. knew that the job was defined by security and reliability, rather than spectacle or ease. But it was no secret that work here could be mind-numbing dull and mundane, with so little excitement, day after day, doubly so in a mass-produced office environment that seemed designed to sap the joy out of everything. Stiff, bristly carpet, beige or off-white colored everything...there wasn't much to keep the average worker alert and attentive as they toiled away for their corporate overlords. But there was at least one reason that the men of Bellegarde Holdings Inc. couldn't completely slack off, and risk letting their guard down in their drudgery-induced stupor. That reason, was the supervisor of this floor, whose approach was heralded by the click of her tall heels against that same, stiff carpet. Cassarah Wilhelm. She ran this floor of the headquarters building as a senior supervisor, but was ultimately every bit a cog in the machine as everyone she oversaw. Cassarah might have been higher up on the company totem pole than the bulk of the employees, but she still had plenty of others she had to answer to, and she took her job rather seriously.

Today, like most work days, she could be found making her rounds in the office, ensuring that everyone was on task, and completing their assignments according to schedule. Most people would dislike someone lording over them, but resentment towards Cassarah was dulled somewhat for one very good reason...she was rather easy on the eyes. Dressed in a white, buttoned shirt underneath a formal business vest and a black pencil skirt, Ms. Wilhelm's attire was undeniably conservative. What her unrevealing clothing could not disguise, however, was the fairly ample figure that lay just underneath it all, which paired well with the woman's lustrous blonde hair. Even those glasses she wore on her face could not keep the beauty of her blue eyes from shining through. Cassarah was quite the looker, and found it all too easy to command attention.

So it was a great mystery as to why, a woman that had looks, smarts, and a fairly cushy job, would somehow remain single. From the more disgruntled employees, it had been rumored that her private dating woes were the wellspring for her strict attitude on the workplace, the reason why she had a way of patrolling the aisles of her department like a warden overseeing her inmates. But one day, that all begun to change, though nobody was quite certain as to why. Cassarah never said anything, but the almost hostile air about the blonde had dulled considerably. She was more forgiving, more tolerant. Just as the rumors had suggested her anger stemmed from frustration, many of those beneath her believed that her docility had meant she had finally gotten herself a boyfriend, one that somehow had met whatever lofty standards she held. In truth, Cassarah's employees weren't too far off. She had found somebody, and that somebody...was a dog.

Duke, an enormous Great Dane originally adopted for companionship and protection, had become something a lot more, for Cassarah, all thanks to an unexpected incident that had changed their relationship forever. Now, Cassarah had something she really looked forward to at home, whenever she clocked out. It had become her favorite method of 'stress relief'. If only it was actually as harmless and innocuous as Cassarah believed it to be. Cassarah didn't know it yet, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Another day of corporate drudgery recedes into memory, as the drone of phones buzzing, keyboards clacking, and myriad low voices gives way to the dull thrum of a city during the night. The Tuesday night is not glamorous or particularly noteworthy, filled with the half-hearted farewells of colleagues eager to return home to warm beds, all framed by a sullen sky dyed the hues of sundown. But there is little fanfare needed to sweeten the comforts of returning home, a sweetness only made bolder by the addition of an attentive lover. These days, some of her coworkers even bid her a good night- Dylan Brass, brown haired, green-eyed and wiry, is an IT lead, Cassarah’s junior by six years. He waves her goodbye with a sunny smile and faint flush to his cheeks- while the older, much more worldly Jeremiah, head of the custodial staff- greets Cassarah with a friendly wave and low, gravelly voice as he clocks in for the night shift. “Evenin’ Miss Wilhelm. Hope th’ commute is easy on ya’.” The burly, tanned older man continues inward to the soulless building, humming a low tune.

The commute is mercifully quick tonight- the drive from downtown a smooth, easy ride out to the suburbs, to a home deserving of a successful, single businesswoman. A small garden out front heralds a picturesque porch, a stout wooden door the last barrier between Cassarah and home. But much more prominent is the faint sound of scratching claws on carpet, and the faint snuffling of a familiar, wet nose near the bottom of the door. Her hound, her protector, her partner Duke is an attentive dog- and clearly has already caught the scent in the air. A naked, whole-hearted anticipation conveyed in faint whines and shuffling sounds. Cassarah is home.

Duke had, in such relatively little time, made getting home that much more enjoyable for the blonde businesswoman. Cassarah never imagined herself a 'dog person', and yet, she couldn't imagine herself being without Duke, anymore. Of course, never imagined that the love of her life would be a dog, either, all springing from a fateful turn of events on a hot-as-hell weekend, just a month prior, where Cassarah had worn very little. It had been partially out of laziness and partially because everything felt so warm for her during that week, but what had started with Cassarah donning nothing more than a pair of panties and a sleeveless tank ended with Duke demonstrating just how incredible he was to have around. Before that day, he had never expressed any more interest in her than what was typical between a dog and their owner. But something took a hold of Duke that hot, afternoon, as Cassarah had simmered from the unusual spike in heat both inside and out. Cursory interest from Duke had turned into breaking an incredible taboo when the blonde was entertained the thought of Duke mounting her and showing her a sort of pleasure she had never experienced before. Since then, Cassarah was in love, and she began to show a side of herself to that hound of hers that she had shown nobody else. Today was no different.

"Ah, finally! Home! And is that Duke I hear? Oh, have you been a good boy? I bet you have!", Cassarah murmured, utilizing that overly affectionate, coddling tone so many used for their beloved pets, yet had been something she had thought to be idiotic not all that long ago. Finally, she just got it, how much she wanted to spoil her beloved Duke, and to shower him with affection as he had to her. No sooner had Cassarah stepped through that front door and locked it behind her, did she start to kick off her heeled shoes, and strip from her more constraining, outer garments. It was a sign that Duke had come to realize meant that Cassarah was in the mood for some 'fun', and that his approach would be quite welcome. She didn't stop stripping until she was down to her undergarments and a buttoned shirt up top, unfastened and hanging loosely on her shoulders. Like the day that it first happened, those panties could easily be pushed aside, even by one without opposable thumbs. Nowadays, however, Cassarah was more keen to bear it all for Duke, and welcome him to her side!

Her massive canine companion raises his head. When he does, that long snout is almost at level with her shoulders. The hound paces forward. More.. curious than ever. As she strips down, she feels the burly, muscled flank of her bedside companion sidle alongside, and even with the massive hound simply brushing against her, even through the thin material of her button-up, she feels the heat of her hounds frame, the muscles stretching and relaxing, as he rubs against her- marking her with his scent, as he sniffs. That probing wet nose tickles her side, then slips just under her shirt- sniffing at her waist, just below her belly button. Usually her hound pounces on her once she starts abandoning clothes like this, but tonight Duke is close, protective, walking alongside her as a protector, guiding her deeper into the home. Those stern green eyes studying Cassarah with the intelligence of a pack animal.

Her hound is a mottled, brindled brown hue- short fur that does little to disguise the sleek muscle of a predator beneath. And so close to her, Cassarah catches the first whiffs of a very distinct musk- heady and primal, wafting off her mate. Like an alpha escorting a pup, Duke guides Cassarah towards the couches- the site of many, if not most of their trysts. His massive brutal form bunching and pressing into her side as the hound paces, Duke sniffing the air as in his own way, the hound begins to betray his arousal. The slick sound of a sheathe beginning to distend, as the canine curve of his breeding shaft begins to emerge, slick and wet with a breeding stocks potency.

Duke spoke no words, but Cassarah instantly got the message. She was to go to the usual spot, for the next part. That much was clear, just from Duke's reaction to her return, alone, and Cassarah, pent-up from the stress of the workday, was more than delighted to play along. Cassarah had exhausted her patience on numerous fronts, dealing with work-related issues, and even an unfortunate incident with her brunch. Although she she felt alright now, what she had attributed to a bout of food poisoning had left her feeling a little nauseous in the early part of her shift, today. So it was that much more important that she enjoy herself, now. She hesitated long enough only to give her beloved canine a few strokes across the head and behind the ears, unable to keep herself from doting on him as always. Once she had, however, she was sashaying towards the linked couches, where she could bend over and present herself at a level that was convenient for Duke. By propping his paws up on the couch, he'd have an easy time mounting the blonde 'bitch' that awaited him, swaying her hips and backside in his direction. Already, those lacy panties had been pushed aside for what was to come.

"Come here, Duke...I'm right here, just for you...!"

There are certain prerogatives in nature. Overriding instincts that govern all creatures. The urge to eat, the urge to protect. And the urge to breed. Hounds are more sensitive to the subtle cues given by a persons scent. Being able to sniff out diseases, mood shifts, with a hyper-tuned scent. Perhaps this was what taught the hound that despite his pack-mate being of a different form and shape than most.. the hips she presents his way, are the hips of a breedable bitch. Fertile and ready, accepting of him. As such, Duke answers to natures calling. Strong paws mount the sofa, the leather groaning as claws dig into the surface. And the massive, damp heft of Duke’s fat canine co*ck slaps into Cassarah’s heavy hips as the massive hound aligns himself with his mate. The hound presses his weight down on Cassarah’s back, his snout by net neck, where his jaw rests, asserting himself with the grace of sharp teeth across her vulnerable neck. And in the same motion, he strikes.

With none of the subtlety or hesitation of a fresh faced young lover, Duke slams the hulking mass of dog-co*ck up into her sopping depths. The massive, virile red flesh stuffing her insides, slamming the fat tip immediately against her engorged cervix. Knocking on the doors, so to speak. Duke immediately puts all that powerful muscle to work, driving Cassarah into the couch as his hindquarters piston and drive that obscene, sinful slab of meat deep into her depths, in and out. Shuddering and throbbing with each long thrust, the alpha breeds his bitch as nature decrees- panting and growling against her neck as his powerful body ruts against Cassarah, the threat of his bulbous knot teasing and spreading her already taxed canal.

Duke was so very large, even after factoring in his size, but Cassarah was steadily getting more and more used to that girth. It was as if her sex was getting shaped by that canine co*ck, molded for the Great Dane's personal use. When pleasure, far beyond the likes of which Cassarah could obtain on her own, once again began to flow with every pounding thrust, she was left further convinced that being Duke's mate wasn't all that of a bad thing. It was a stark contrast to the first time, where she had been stunned and astonished, even a little repulsed by the advances Duke had made on her. But once he had slotted that knotted shaft where it needed to be, and she had experienced sensation she could not replicate otherwise, she realized just how much she had need him, just as he needed her. That first union had lead to mean more that had followed in the days since, this coupling just another in an increasingly large number of them. She hardly gave any thought as to how often they were doing it together, beyond the pleasure of the moment. It was simply just that satisfying.

But as Cassarah lost herself in the pleasure, and shook her hips with her own pet's thrusts into her, she failed to realize that the two of them were far more compatible than she had ever known. In what should have been an impossibility, some time ago, Duke had struck home, as it were. A tide of his virile swimmers had surged into Cassarah's womb and assaulted her awaiting eggs. In every other instance prior, nothing at all had happened, the sheer cliff of genetic diversity an insurmountable obstacle. And yet, life was made that day, even though Cassarah had yet to realize it. She had been bred, just as Duke had instinctively intended, and more miraculous still, more eggs were released with time.

Steadily, Duke was adding to a litter that Cassarah didn't even know she carried.

And with each frenzied thrust the inevitable countdown to that litters expansion only grows shorter. Duke’s thrusts become more frenzied and more forceful, driving the curvy woman down into the sofa, every thrust sending a loud clap through the living room as her plush hips bounce against toned canine muscle. That throbbing red girth deep within her begins to shudder and twitch, bulging as the virile cargo Duke carries begins to spill into the distended shaft. And with one last thrust, the thick knot is forced into Cassarah’s womanhood, inflating and plugging her slit tight, as his co*ck erupts with a deluge of thick, steaming hot cum, drilled into her cervix.

That deluge floods into her already-fertilized womb, sloshing and filling her womb with warm tingling heat. A heat horn from those washing waves of wriggling, powerful swimmers slamming against poor overtaxed ovaries. Burrowing into her eggs again, and again, and again- filling each one with a fresh pup to join the others that have already begun to gestate and grow within. Heat blossoms, sparks tingle each time an egg is attacked by outsiders, by the virile spunk of another species- and by a miracle, this unlikely union leads to new, burgeoning life.

Distracted by the wellspring of heat from within and the warm, humid breath of Duke upon her neck, Cassarah had no clue as to what was transpiring within. All she could think about was how incredible the experience was, and how she had yet to tired of it. That was a good thing, for as quickly as she could pair up with Duke upon arriving home, separating was another matter entirely. That knotted shaft of his bulged whenever he reached climax, and thoroughly wedged itself within her body for some time. It would take several minutes after the fact for Duke to deflate enough to remove himself from between her legs, a time span that would ensure not a drop of that virile spunk could seep out until it had a chance to be properly utilized. As such, it had nowhere to go but Cassarah's already-seeded womb, where it churned within her now-bloated belly, while leaving an oddly pleasant feeling in the blonde that had nearly started to drool from the stimulation.

Content to lie there until Duke was ready to separate, the scope of Cassarah's litter quietly grew. She had yet to realize the 'puffiness' she had been experiencing, and the snugness around her middle in her tailored, formal business attire were but the first signs of her condition - pregnant with her own dog's offspring. At the moment, it was still subtle, even with the unusual bout of morning sickness that had defined Cassarah's early day, today. That was only going to change in the days ahead.

And it hadn't taken long. What could once be written off as some sort of passing bug was increasingly difficult to ignore. A persistent sickness that leaves Cassarah feeling heavy and bloated, tight all over. Summer is still cresting, and today is one of the hottest days. Even with the office air conditioning working at full speed, the heat cannot be dampened- leaving the workplace muggy and unpleasant, save for brief respites in the break room. Unbeknownst to Cassarah, a brood of 17 pups has begun to swell within her belly, slowly but surely, barely making a dent on the woman yet- but the consequences have begun to make themselves known.

On a sweltering, muggy day- Dylan, the younger, wiry IT lead is taking refuge in the break room as he snacks on a protein bar and sips some iced tea. Often times the rather shy young man prefers to eat at his desk, but the combination of heat from the summer and from the server banks has even driven this recluse from his nest. He’s removed his smart waistcoat, dressed in a loose button-up dress shirt, and slacks that bottom out in smart dress shoes. Bellegarde Inc. is particular about appearances, uniformity is sacrosanct and discrepancy from crisp, smart office wear is sin. The removal of a waistcoat is not a deep offense, but certainly a breach of some protocol buried in the piles of paperwork signed to be a part of so bland, yet so secretive a company as Bellegarde Inc. Dylan sips his drink, delighting in the cool sensation on his tongue as he enjoys a quiet moment within the currently empty break room.

Cassarah would make her appearance in that breakroom that day, something of a rarity, given her position was high enough to grant her the honor of a private office. But the heat had simply been that bad, that day, and Cassarah's office was not spared the humid heat. That, paired with the lack of cold, liquid refreshments outside of the break room had prompted the blonde businesswoman to come, personally. She had come this morning wearing formal attire for work as was the usual, only to end up regretting the decision once whatever pleasantness the early morning had left gave way to the afternoon heat. By the time she was strolling down to that room where Dylan had been taking refuge Cassarah had shed her business jacket and had left it behind in her office. It was simply too stifling to wear.

With it's absence, Cassarah's undershirt -slightly damp- was in full view, hugging her every curve as the humidity caused it to cling to her body. When that happened, what had been initially hidden beneath layers of fabric had become somewhat more noticeable. Cassarah's figure...had changed, somewhat. She was still every bit the knockout, buxom blonde of the office. Some would argue that was even more the case, as her bust appeared a little bit larger. But beneath that generous chest, where there had once been a thin and toned abdomen...was a bit of a paunch. It had appeared that Cassarah had put on a bit of weight, a theory that was supported by her latent, heightened love for sweets and snacking...at least when she wasn't sweating too much to only think about cool, sugary drinks.

Glancing up between sips of his drink, Dylan chokes when he sees Cassarah enter. He sputters the drink, coughing as he lifts it away from his lips, gasping in a breath of air once he manages to swallow his surprise. Surprise that let his gaze wander down below eye level to the two protruding torpedo-shaped lumps filling out her top. And below briefly, to the straining shape of a beginning pot belly.

Dylan adjusts as best he can, cheeks already flushed from the heat- only deepening in hue more than they already are.

“Miss Wilhelm, I didn’t know you took breaks around this time. Guess that’s on me for.. usually just sticking to my nest in IT.” Dylan chuckles a bit awkwardly, his gaze leveling with her eye level with effort. “How’re you holding up in the heat?”

Perhaps a little unused to being approached for non-work-related conversation, there was a brief look of surprise on Cassarah's face when she had been abruptly addressed. It disappeared all too quickly when the practiced negotiator regained her composure, and realized that Dylan had asked her a question. Having no met Dylan's gaze when it swept across her body, she hadn't caught on to the fact that she had been attracting more attention than usual. That wouldn't be helped in the slightest when she, out of desperation from how sweaty she felt, tugged at her shirt collar to try and allow some cool air to flow in. That arm, folded inward, would have little choice but to jostle that generous chest of hers, the beginnings of which could just barely be seen, with Cassarah utilizing less buttons than usual on a day as hot as this one.

"Holding up? That sounds about right. I'm definitely enduring it. Haah...the end of the day can't come soon enough...", Cassarah sighed, while moving to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea, extra sugar. Taken with it, was a donut from the breakroom box. The glaze was looking particularly glossy on the pastry with how warm it was inside the office, but Cassarah seemed determined to eat it all the same.

She had been feeling so hungry, as of late...

Dylan gulps, and is glad he hadn’t brought the bottle back to his lips when she gives him a daring view of her assets, his lips going dry as his eyes are drawn, akin to gravity, to the sway and motion of her bust. Sweat beading his brow, he takes a quick swig of his drink and positions himself with legs close together- to hide the consequences of blood flowing rapidly from his heart to his extremities, filling out the more obvious clues to his errant gaze. His thighs clench down on his budding erection before it begins to spill into a visible tent in his tight slacks, trading physical discomfort for social.

The IT lead nods slightly, the faint wince passing his features as he adjusts his posture. “I much prefer the colder months, the server banks help keep us warm down there. What’s waiting at home for you?” The question spills from his lips before he can stop it, clamping down too late. A personal question? Directed toward the flaxen empress? Many learned early on in the companies tenure how such personal topic were shot down with frosty stares and polite dismissal. Dylan holds his breath.

Dylan's preemptive reaction wasn't without warrant. What he had heard about Ms. Wilhelm's stern attitude had sprung from rumor that was in turn based on events that had actually happened. While things got exaggerated along the pipeline, it wasn't a lie to say that probing into Cassarah's personal life had lead to more than one awkward situation. On a day where Cassarah was looking as stressed as ever with the oppressive heat, it felt like that Dylan's slip-up couldn't have happened on a worse day. And yet, a scolding wasn't what happened at all.

"A well air-conditioned home, for one.", Cassarah began, pausing to take another sip of her iced tea to try and stave off the heat around her. "Nothing less for my darling Duke."

Only after Cassarah spoke aloud, and had wrapped her lips around hat donut she had claimed, did she realize that she had affectionately invoked her dog's name, something she had never done around her subordinates in her department, before. That, was the cue for Cassarah's cheeks to gain a bit of color, as she came to understand that comment had slipped entirely without context. Rather than explain, however, she did her best to change the subject, a shift that was about as smooth as torso.

"Ah! But, yes, I do say that I very much prefer the winter months. Can always put on more layers. Only so much you can remove in heat, particularly in a business environment."

Dylan blinks. No scathing rebuke. A.. flush? He notes all this with surprise, his dry throat receding as he sips his drink slowly. The wiry young man nods in agreement, letting a small smile touch his face.

“I think everyone’s looking forward to the winter months. I’m lucky I can get away with just the button-up shirt down in IT.” He tilts his head just slightly, as Cassarah takes a bite to eat. His forest green gaze curious, studious- as fear thaws to interest.

“.. And, Duke, did you say? Sounds like a pets name.” He probes gently, still a hint of hesitance to his soft voice. He waits a moment for her response, shifting his stance again as the discomfort of concealing his ill-timed erection continues to put Dylan in a bit of a spot, clamping down on his arousal as his cheeks continue to burn faintly red.

Cassarah hadn't come to talk about her dog, especially since her relationship with said dog had become taboo beyond measure, but she swiftly realized there was no use trying to deny the subject, now. She had let slip Duke's name, and Dylan had correctly guessed that it was the name of a pet. Cassarah pivoted with her approach to the conversation, while still taking great bites out of her donut. The way that she was dismantling it made it seem that much more likely that she would return for another. It didn't make for the most...elegant sight, but the hunger that gnawed at Cassarah's empty stomach was so very hard for her to ignore. She was well aware that she had been eating more as of late, but addressing the matter was something that was perpetually being pushed to 'tomorrow'. The heat did little to change that pattern, when the obvious answer of 'get more exercise to work it off' sounded downright dreadful at the current temperatures.

"Y-yes, that's right. Duke is...my dog. He is waiting for me, at home. I made sure to keep it cool for him.", Cassarah admitted, mentally reassuring herself that nothing she said was out of the ordinary. And yet, no matter how many times she reminded herself of that, she couldn't escape the feeling that she could let the real secret slip at any moment, a stressful feeling that would have brought her to a sweat if she hadn't been sweating already, in this heat.

Dylan nods, smiling a little warmer. “I definitely judged you as more of a cat person, Miss Wilhelm. Duke huh? What sort of breed is he?” The young man asks, innocently- though such a word is definitely two-pronged when addressing the alpha that’s taken her up as a resident breeding sow for his own seed. Dylan smiles, quite clearly relieved to be met with open responses, perhaps missing Cassarah’s nervousness, or forwarding on regardless.

He finishes off his protein bar, just nursing the iced tea now. Leaning against the bench in the center of the break rooms kitchen lets him relax a bit, the height of the furniture concealing his tool from view as it inevitably leaves a suspicious indent in his slacks- his eyes mostly behaving, his blood cooling in his ears now that Cassarah isn’t going out of her way to make things difficult for a young man.

“We have a wheaten terrier back home, my sister and I. Real sweetheart, even if he’s getting on a bit in years.” He adds with a hearty smile.

Cassarah didn't mean to, but the more that she talked about Duke, the more her mind wandered, particularly to matters that she had shared with no one. Of what she did with her own dog, what she wanted to do, but hadn't yet. Just thinking about it left Cassarah squeezing her thighs together in a reflexive, if subtle, response. They too, had seen a bit of extra thickness as of late, if a very slight amount.

"A big, wonderful...Great Dane...", Cassarah murmured, looking off in an odd direction, at nothing in particular. Her free hand nearly began to drift downward, towards her legs, before Cassarah caught on to what she was doing and pulled back. She was already at the point where she was mentally vowing that she'd be on her back today, so she could face her beloved hound as he entered her, when she got home. With the air conditioning running all day at home, it would be more than cool enough for that sort of activity. No sooner had she confirmed that within her mind, did Cassarah remember that her response was somewhat inadequate, and made a hastily cobbled-together addendum.

"Ah! He's...real sweet. Anyway, I really must be getting back to my office...", Cassarah mumbled, taking another donut back with her in her hasty departure.

Dylan blinks, But smiles as Cassarah takes her leave. “Ah- of course ma’am. Hope the rest of the evening is a bit easier on you.” He says by way of farewell. Her retreating form letting his gaze wander to her skirt-clad hips, staring and perhaps absently wondering.. do they look a little bit wider?

----

Heat. Sweat. Motion. The sweltering pressure of hot muscle against her bare midriff. Pumping and moving and bucking. The sticky, salty smell and taste of sweat. Hers, his, it doesn’t matter. And the relentless pounding. She was late. Mistakes in the office, gridlock traffic, all those factors combining to make her hound pine for his mate. And when she got home she was practically jumped at the door. Now she’s back to the floor, skin against the rug, being rutted by her pet.

Duke grazes her collarbone with his sharp teeth, panting interspersed by low growls that betray his need. A feral instinct to rut overtaking her kind protector. As he pounds the fat, red, thick girth of his animal co*ck in and out of her folds, filling out the hips that are shapes to the curve of his virile rod. Who knows what the neighbors must be thinking, at eight pm, the baying of a hound joined by whatever noise escapes the currently rutted form of Cassarah. But the beast atop her doesn’t care for propriety, only for the rut. And so she feels her cervix pounded against by raw dog co*ck, stuffing her to the brim as Duke mounts and breeds his owner silly.

The rest of that work-day had dragged on for Cassarah, well beyond the actual hours that had transpired. The heat, the need, it made seconds feel like minutes. Never before had she been so very, very glad that she had, eventually, returned home. Not only was the interior of her house pleasantly cool on her sweat-dampened skin, but Duke was there, waiting for her. And just as she had planned from far earlier on in the day, Cassarah had united with her loyal hound and stud not from behind, like a dog would, but on her back, facing him. There, Cassarah could look Duke right in his dark eyes while he pounded away, thrusting that hot shaft of his into her with enough force to get her chest bouncing and slapping against her torso. It was every bit as delightful as she hoped it would be, and she hardly cared about the noise she or Duke made while it all happened.

But Duke was never one that was all that interested in prolonging things. He knew not of foreplay, or how to concern himself with her pleasure, first. It was mostly an afterthought, a benefit to that instinctual drive to breed and claim his mate, again and again. And so, it wasn't all that long until Cassarah could feel that throbbing, knotted co*ck reading another load, just for her. As was always the case, there was no protection, he was inside of her directly, as any dog would be in a mate of their species. Cassarah braced herself for what had essentially been inevitable from the moment she had stripped down in front of her beloved pet.

"T-that's it, Duke! Right...there! J-just a bit more...! Aauh...y-yes...!"

The promise of a breeding-ready hound is not slow to deliver. And deliver he does. The massive muscled mass of pounding flesh sinks into her depths as she stares into the muzzled features of her mate, the sinful visage of an animal. A mutt. And yet those green eyes bring not scorn or disgust, but love. A love consummated once again as her hound slams his co*ck into her cervix, pounding it wide open, as his knot quickly bulges and seals her entry tight. Duke howls a chorus to the neighborhood, as his deeply buried co*ck shudders, bulging tightly with packed loads of virile seed, before it flows in a deluge out into Cassarah.

That tidal wave immediately makes her belly bulge and bloat, distending fatter and gurgling with the fresh weight of hot taboo seed taking root within. Indeed, her ovaries are utterly flooded by the thick soup of dog seed, throbbing as they are attacked from all sides by wriggling, tiny swimmers. Each egg finding itself thoroughly bred, then the next, then the next- in a fluttering butterfly sensation, deep within her belly.

The intricacies of what was her vulnerable womb getting claimed again and again were lost on Cassarah, who merely just knew that she felt good. That overwhelming sensation of satisfaction was all Cassarah cared about, and it was what she basked in, well in the wake of Duke's climax into her. As was almost always the case, Duke was in no hurry to leave her, that swollen, knotted co*ck of his just as content to stay wedged between her legs for some time after the fact. As the two were more or less stuck together, Cassarah was sure to lavish her adorable hound with plenty of affection, all while her bloated belly gurgled ominously beneath the bountiful shelf of her ample chest. What Cassarah still hadn't realized was something she couldn't even being to imagine to begin with. First, that she had her womb had long since been claimed by a dog, and that their number was only continuing to grow with every illicit affair.

In the days that followed, however, Cassarah would have growing suspicions that something was amiss. She did not need to look further than her own, large mirror within her bedroom, reflecting something she had subconsciously acknowledged, but hadn't done anything about. Her belly. Without the aid of a mirror, she had to press down on her full and oddly sensitive chest to see it properly. Nevertheless, it was indeed a belly down there, if a small one, pushing out from her frame and making it impossible to completely fasten a number of pants from her wardrobe. The sight of it told Cassarah she really needed to pick up on the exercise, perhaps make it a habit of walking Duke to the nearby park more often. The last thing she needed was to ruin her looks by getting fat. But even as she told herself that, Cassarah's hands kept rubbing her swollen middle, bewildered by how firm it felt to the touch. It was almost as if she was pregnant! But with Duke being her only partner, Cassarah dismissed that silly theory. That was impossible.

Clearly, between her bras getting snug and her pants not fitting, she was merely putting on weight, lately. Surely.

---

Mercifully that Saturday morning, the battering heat of a waning summer sun, is offset by a breeze blowing off the nearby coast. The park has winding tails that weave through copses of thick brush, with the shade of tall redwoods offering some respite from the suns heat. In the height of such a summer, the park thrums with the laughter and play of children and their families. Couples are out on runs, and owners are taking their dogs out for walks. Cassarah simply happens to be both a couple and a woman with her dog.

Duke walks just a step ahead of Cassarah. Perhaps when he was a younger hound, he’d walk right on his owners heel- but lately, as he’s made his claim to her quite well known- and curiously, as Cassarah has put on weight, Duke has become far more protective. He stays close by Cassarah even without a leash, frequently bumping against her legs and walking alongside her. Those stern green eyes study the park and the other dogs, as Duke’s massive muscular form serves as an imposing form to ward off any trouble that might befall his owner.

Another couple, guiding a scrappy looking pit bull, waves as they jog along the path- and their dog bounds closer, until Duke bares his teeth. Enough of a warning, as the other hound backs off and gives a wide berth, while Duke leans against Cassarah’s side, all muscle and heat and fur. The couple, an older man and woman continue past, while Duke remains pressed to Cassarah’s side, studying their surroundings as an attentive guard dog.

It had been far too hot to take Duke on walks as regularly as she liked, but Cassarah all but forced herself to get some extra exercise, all too aware of the mounting 'trouble' that was defining her waistline, down below. Where she was quite proud of how she looked up top, her lovely sunglasses and white top complementing her natural looks well, she was less keen about her exposed midriff as she used to be. Where her middle had been enviably flat, she now had a bit of a belly, her walking attire not even trying to hide it. Furthermore, the capris she wore had been pushed down somewhat, refusing to settle on her hips like they used to. Again, this was the fault of that damnable belly, resisting the hem of her pants and making them that much harder to fasten. It was also during this walk, did Cassarah become that much more aware of how sensitive her chest was feeling, as of late. They felt a bit larger, puffier, due to some inexplicable reason, and they were that much more prone to bouncing with her steps. She hoped that it wouldn't be too much of a problem as she mentally mapped a route to walk alongside with Duke. He was looking oddly protective, today, which wasn't all that of a bad thing.

Eventually, as Cassarah passed a number of other pedestrians, be it families or couples, or the lone traveler, Cassarah came to the more forested part of the park, less traversed than the sprawling, sunny lawns that defined most of the public space. In fact, it didn't seem like there was anyone there...

Perhaps it is due to the way Cassarah presents herself, bared and vulnerable like their first night together. Perhaps it’s the protective instincts, the hackles raised by the other dogs and hounds being close to Cassarah, a need for the alpha to restate his claim. Perhaps there’s no good reason why. But, Duke growls, low and rumbling as he nudges into Cassarah again. The massive hound presses more of that vast bulk and heat into her, before attempting to stand on his hind legs- forelimbs reaching to settle on Cassarah’s back and shoulders.

The intent of such actions is impossible to miss- with Duke’s snout close to her neck, panting slightly in the heat, with the massive muscled form of her mate pressing against her body- Cassarah feels the protruding red bulge of Duke’s co*ck engorging against her thigh, then her navel as Duke presses on her- presses Cassarah down, with clear breeding intent. Those green eyes hot with a primal, bestial urge. Duke drives Cassarah down, towards the loam and earth, leaving no mistaking his intentions- as her massive hound, and his stomach-bulging rod of red dog-co*ck, tower over Cassarah.

That sort of thing was not what Cassarah had taken Duke to the park, for. And yet, she couldn't muster the will to deny her beloved canine, beyond a half-hearted 'N-no, Duke!', as he pushed her down. His intent was as clear and unmistakable as that shaft of his emerging beneath his deceptively powerful body. It was unlikely that Cassarah could dissuade Duke, now that he had gotten this far. Conflicted by doing something so outlandishly taboo in public, she peered around, and reaffirmed that there were no bystanders or possible witnesses to what was about to transpire. Nevertheless, she did her best to scramble off to the side and out of view of the path that cut through this part of the park, as a precaution. Only once she was there, partially obscured by trees and brush, did she allow Duke to continue where she left off. Once again, she was on her back peering up at her own pet, and pulling down her pants to grant him access.

"Ah, D-duke...what am I going to do with you...?", Cassarah huffed, while she stripped. In no time at all, pants were removed and panties were pushed aside, a gesture that even Duke could recognize as permission to keep going...

A forbidden dance is joined again, though to say Duke knows the steps would be overstating things. Her massive hound sinks between her thighs, pressing down on her body as he lines up between her legs. The long, turgid mass of his shaft throbs against her belly, hot and moist, a warning of what is to come.

Duke sniffs at her face and chest, letting Cassarah stare fully in the face of her hound, again looking right into those rich golden eyes, as he bucks- and presses the massive burgeoning girth of his co*ck into her. Each time it becomes easier, as Cassarah is molded into the shape of her lovers protruding co*ck- and Duke celebrates the occasion with a howling call. The heat and muscle of her furred companion press down on Cassarah, half-dressed, his collar jingling as Duke begins rutting Cassarah into the dirt, scuffing her clothes and hips with mud and grass- like an animal.

Even if there was no one around, being outside meant that Duke's howling was bound to attract attention unchecked, and Cassarah did all she could to shush the horny hound, even while she was grappling with the noise she

"D-duke! S-ssh..! Y-you need to be...q-quiet...!", Cassarah uttered in an urgent whisper, stroking her canine companion's head, even as he pounded her between her legs. It was so very difficult not to allow a moan to escape her own lips, when doing so could inadvertently lure an unsuspecting bystander to her location. Faced with this reality, Cassarah did all she could to try and hurry Duke along, squeezing on his co*ck from this inside, in the hope that she might get everything settled before the worst could happen. It was at odds with how she handled their lovemaking at home, for certain.

And just as she felt Duke's co*ck start to twitch, a telltale sign of him approaching org*sm, she did what she'd never thought she'd do...she gave Duke a kiss rather than the other way around, hoping it'd keep him relatively quiet...

All Cassarah hears are the pants and growls of her hound as she kisses his snout. Returning an affection, one of the few affections that only went one way til now. It works, as the growling howls of her Duke are silenced, even if the scratching and scraping of windfall and soil are hardly subtle, let alone the slap of furred muscle against plush hips. But her tightening does it work, as she feels the bulging of Duke’s knot forced into her belly- the tip of his burgeoning doggy-co*ck pressing into, spreading wide her cervix, as the pulsing waves of heat emanating from higher hounds co*ck culminate, at last, in a familiar deluge of hot, virile cum.

Her poor ovaries once again are invaded by the taboo sperm of another, and again- the miracle of conception takes root in her belly. Blossoms of heat as individual eggs are invaded by hordes of wriggling, swimming sperm that bloat and stuff her womb full, stretching it fatter and wider with ominous sloshes and gurgles, fattening her belly even further as she’s plugged full with the hot climax of her dog. His co*ck continues to throb and tremble in her slit, anchored by the inflated knot as Duke lies atop her, panting and spent inside her womb.

But the silence of their panting breaths in the wake of explosive climax reveals another sound in its wake. The crunch of feet on the path, boots crushing twigs and gravel. A voice calls out- young sounding, male. “Hello?”

Cassarah was lead through another, mind-blowing, toe-curling org*sm when Duke finally unleashed his load inside of her, right in that park. She had tried so very hard to stay quiet, but in that moment, a high-pitched yelp slipped from her lips, the pleasure simply too great to endure in silence. The flood of doggy spunk left her feeling - and looking- more bloated than ever, but in the wake of such pleasure, Cassarah couldn't only feel that it had all been worth it. She was content to lie there, and wait for Duke to remove himself when he was ready to do so, like he usually did. That was, until Cassarah heard the voice of somebody, and she was left scrambling to make herself somewhat presentable. Cassarah tugged her pants up her long legs as much as she could, but could only manage most of the distance with Duke atop her and still very much inside of her. Thankfully a lot more docile and pliable after a mating session, she encouraged her faithful hound to take up position on her body and hide what she so desperately tried to hide. Duke was by no means a 'lap dog', but in this tense moment, he would be! Cassarah straightened herself up enough to proper her back against a nearby tree before she replied to the voice.

"W-what...? What do you want!?"

Much more malleable and content after venting his frustration and urges directly into Cassarah’s fertile womb, Duke shifts at her urging, letting her settle against a tree. The thick smell of mating sex still hangs in the air around them, and her pants certainly aren’t around her waist- but on short notice, at a distance, it might hold up. But all that motion is having another affect- even if Duke is exhausted and spent, that fat, swollen doggy-co*ck in her belly is throbbing all over again, swelling up in her belly, pulsing with heat all over again.

The boy- looking around 18 or 19 walks around into view with a worried look on his face. Sandy blonde with cute features, he gasps when he sees Cassarah on her back, bowled over by Duke. “O- oh, heck, are- are you okay miss? I heard you yell..” The young man starts approaching with a frown, clearly meaning to do something about the massive dog currently pinning her in the dirt.

Cassarah was known for being somewhat...unfriendly around the office, and although that had lessened as of late, she had to tap into that same sort of serious she had utilized in the workplace to get herself out of this situation. Judging by the young man's reaction, he had yet to realize she still had a dog's knot jammed between her legs, but if he stuck around, she was certain that would not remain the case.

"Duke here just surprised me, is all. I'm quite fine. Duke is a...very good boy....", Cassarah murmured, patting the mollified Duke atop his large head. She would have given him far more praise in the moment, for his performance just now, had there not been risk of encouraging the man to stay. Instead, she left it at that, and craned her neck to peer up at the stranger, hoping that he would get the hint and leave. She needed to clean herself up without prying eyes and head home. This walk had come to an end!

"So I'm quite fine. No problems here. Is there anything else you need?"

The downside to calling Duke a very good boy, is certainly that it excites him. As his tail swishes in the dirt behind her, she feels the burgeoning swell of his engorged doggy-co*ck only grow further, hot and vibrant within her folds. He licks at her cheeks and face, his hot, toned form straddling her.

The young man on the other hand, stammers for a moment. “Oh- I.. suppose not. Do you need a hand up, ma’am? Or..” The young man offers, though his enthusiasm to help has certainly waned under her scathing tone.

This close, Cassarah can feel the long, deep breaths that swell and fill Duke’s chest, the dull thud of his heartbeat within. A throb of blood being pumped, mimicked in the throbbing feeling of his co*ck shuddering in the depths of her belly. With every slight motion of Duke shifting how he’s seated, or her own movements, the heavy burden of Duke’s excessive climax gurgles and sloshes in her cum-stuffed belly, fresh seed sloshing across her violated eggs, sending fresh bolts of heat through the womb.

Cassarah bit her lip, all-too aware that Duke's manhood was stirring her up, stimulating her in ways that felt so good, yet was taboo to the extreme. She couldn't afford to be caught in this position, as much of a part of her genuinely wanted to lie back and enjoy what Duke could offer her. She embraced her big dog, as if to hug him, and shook her head to the man's offer.

"It is pleasantly cool here. I am, f-fine. Now, as you can...s-see, I am not in distress. If you would be so kind as to leave me in peace...", Cassarah replied, about as firmly as she could, without being downright hostile. All the while, her tone was inconsistent, pitching higher when the pleasure from within jolted her senses and made her squirm. All she could think about was mentally willing the man to leave her, before he discovered the truth. She repeated as such in her head, as if it were some mystical mantra. This walk had been a great deal less relaxing than she had hoped, so far.

There is a beat of silence between them, as the young man’s gaze drifts down.. towards where Duke and Cassarah are joined. He starts to frown, as the void of conversation stretches- a pause becoming more and more pregnant the longer he stares at her hips, beneath the hound. The young man sighs. “.. I’m sorry to disturb you then, Miss..” As he turns, and paces out of the small space off the path. Mercifully dull and ignorant of the signs. She is saved one ignominy.

Another however, is mounting. Duke, atop her, pants as all this motion has done well to work up his post-climax, very sensitive co*ck, which bulges in the depths of her stomach even now. A throbbing sensation that’s permeated her belly all this time comes to a head as they lie in the cool glade together, bound by the inflated mass of Duke’s knot. And as her squirming and throbbing draw Duke to the brink, she is treated to a rare, second helping of the virile seed taking root in her belly.

A fresh cascade of warmth, of liquid pleasure injected into her belly. Her stomach gurgles as her womb is forced to stretch to accommodate, the bulge of Duke’s knot ensuring not a single drop escapes seeding her womb fully. If there were any doubt before, there can be none now, as the fresh churning of cum in her belly sloshes over her eggs, swamping them in more and more desperate sperm- fertilizing them over, and over again. Attacking her ovaries every time a fresh egg is produced, there can be no doubt how thoroughly bred Cassarah has become.

Cassarah put up a strong front while the young man was around, but only just as he was around. With Duke still slotted inside of her, the pleasure was quick to come back, especially when her hound had demonstrated that he could, in the odd occasion, actually go for a second round. Before even a minute had passed with the young man's departure, Cassarah was covering her mouth with both hands to muffle the moans that slipped from her lips. What she was doing would be seen as depraved, deviant, and so very wrong...and yet, she just couldn't get enough of the feeling every time it happened. Had she not just had a frightful near-discover, Cassarah might have indulged her desire to wrap her legs around Duke, and treat him like how she would treat a true lover.

Thankfully, not long after Duke had fired off a second time, he was truly through for the moment, and removed himself form her sopping puss*. Less thankfully, Cassarah found that he had left his mark on her, her belly, somewhat rounded, looked even bigger, stuffed with his hot seed, twice over. Cassarah couldn't even button her pants when she put them back on, leading her to hasten her departure from the park, the moment she was presentable enough to move about without anyone noticing that something was amiss. At least...from afar.

Those days, however, wouldn't last.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Summer slowly turns to autumn. Unbearable heat gives way to beautiful sunrises and falling leaves, the prelude to a cold winter. The air is slowly turning more brisk as the sun loses its strength. Fortunately on a Sunday, such concerns can be overcome within the comforts of the home. Avoiding the worst of the winds bite by staying warm within one's home.

Currently, Duke lies limp on his side. Of course he sleeps on the bed with Cassarah, his burly chest slowly rising and falling, cute wet nose nestled into the covers, a leg occasionally kicking as he dreams. Such an innocuous, innocent appearance is a stark contrast to the furious rutting that took place here last night- a scent of musk and climax that still lingers in the bedroom. But this morning all is peaceful and tranquil, her lover and dog curled on himself, snoring peacefully atop his nest.

But not all is tranquil in this home. As the lines of the test fill in, a dawning suspicion is ensconced into firm reality, as two lines form on the test. She is pregnant with Duke's litter.

"THE HELL!?"

It had been so very easy to deny, just weeks ago. That all Cassarah had been experiencing was the consequences of some overindulgence, of not getting out as much as she should. The weight, the tenderness, just about everything had an explanation that rationalized the symptom as anything but what would be the obvious answer in any other situation. Cassarah still mentally kicked herself for being so blind, or perhaps, that far in denial.

As summer turned to autumn, despite Cassarah's best efforts, one trend had not abated in the slightest. She tried going to the gym, going on more walks -with and without Duke- and eating lighter meals, despite feeling hungrier than ever. None of it seemed to work. Just about every week, Cassarah found that her weight was climbing and that belly was a little bit larger. Unlike fat, which jiggles and had a tendency to form rolls, this belly had remained remarkably firm on her frame, even as it grew and grew. What Cassarah had tried so very long to downplay, excuse, or otherwise write off came to a head one day when she passed by a woman at the market and was, abruptly, asked those four, fateful words.

When are you due?

That, left Cassarah breaking into a sweat, and purchasing not one, but several pregnancy tests that day. Today, just a few days afterwards, she held the last one she purchased, while peering over the remains of all the others. Positive. All of them, positive. She knew where she had been, who she had been with, and another man was not in the equation. There were no gaps in her memory, no opportunities for some stranger to make things happen, and so, her gaze fell back on Duke. Her dog. Somehow, against everything she thought she knew about biology, she had come to carry his pups. Cassarah sighed aloud, wondering how she was going to explain this to those at the office. She began by reclining on her bed next to Duke, dressed in only a top that really over covered her chest, and the pair of panties she had been wearing around the house, pushed downward by her growing, pregnant belly.

"God, of course my tit* are getting bigger, I got knocked up...", Cassarah huffed, still in shock. Her gaze fell upon Duke, who seemed all too pleased with himself. "I bet you knew all along, didn't you...?"

Her darling dog just snorts softly, seemingly perfectly at ease in bed with her. At ease with the fact that his pups are growing within her slowly bulging stomach. Of course- the sheer amount of pups is yet unknown, but all the same, the hound lies still and perfectly content with his lot.

The way he is laid out however, definitely invites thoughts of the night before. And the day before that. And the many, many days spent being bred over and over by her hounds voracious appetite. On his side, his sleek fur hugging the coils of languid muscle that make up his body. Stretched out languidly the way he is, the bulge of Duke's sheath is rather clearly visible, as are the heavy sacks of potent seed that hang beneath. Heavy, sagging, inviting.. the faint scent of their rutting still lingering about him.

Cassarah had come to recline against the headboard of her spacious bed, Duke's head resting against a thigh. Next to it, was her belly, the source of her concerns, leaving her looking more in the second trimester, than anything. As that didn't match up with what she knew to be the timeframe, it told Cassarah that there was something else about her belly that she hadn't been considering. Was she carrying a litter? Pups were smaller than human infants, but enough of them could make up for the difference. Her hands swept over the expanse of her firm, swollen stomach, finding the sensation to be oddly pleasant, as well as calming, despite the consequences of the whole situation being anything but.

"I've always wanted a family, someday. Didn't think it'd be coming from you." Cassarah quipped, shooting Duke an accusatory glance. Her response was just a playful lick across her belly, one that made her shiver. "Absolutely no remorse! Of course..."

Cassarah talked to Duke like he could understand her every word, but eventually, her gaze swept across that emerging manhood of his, one that showed that he was very much in the mood. Cassarah, in the need of a little 'stress relief' more than ever at the moment, soon came around, and pointed her gaze towards the back yard, visible from the master bedroom. It was still fairly warm at this time of year. Perhaps an afternoon spent by the pool would be nice?

"Ah hell. Well, it's not like I can get any more pregnant. Duke, you want to go outside...?"Cassarah began to visualize what swimwear she could still don in her current condition.

Her massive hound answers her query by wagging his tail, the large appendage thumping against the covers of the bed. His head lifts, ears perking up as he stares eagerly at Cassarah, lifting his head from her thigh. The massive hound quickly climbs up, the bed creaking under his shifting weight as he bounds down- venting his excitement by pacing back and forth in front of the door. He may not be able to talk back, but in many ways the hounds eagerness and assent are easy to read.

The backyard is relatively quiet. The distant sound of children laughing, but the walls around the small, cozy property keep out most the din of other residents in the area. And then there are the clear, crystal waters of the pool. Outside, the heat still beats down enough to be warm in the noonday sun, and as Duke bounds over to the edge of the waters to nose at the steps, he looks back to his owner- emerging behind the tall, hulking frame of the mottled Great Dane.

Duke was let out in the backyard first, free to run around as he saw fit. Cassarah, still in her underwear when the offer was first posed, had to take a moment to change. Getting dressed was a little...trickier than it used to be, between her belly sticking out a good ways when she lifted her knees, and her chest blocking that much more of her view down below. Nevertheless, Cassarah succeeded, and emerged in something fitting the occasion...a blue bikini, somewhat undersized, thanks to how much her figure had changed these past few months. It still fit, bikinis rarely didn't, but it was a great deal more enticing than it used to be, with all the sensual flesh bulging around the straps and fabric.

It wasn't all that likely that Duke would have an appreciation for clothes, but Cassarah's choice was two-fold...it was also fairly easy-access for what she had in mind. Every bit wanting to deal with her 'stress' as Duke was, she knew full well what the two would be doing in that pool of hers. She sauntered out, and while getting greeted by Duke, took note of how different it felt to walk around with that weight up front, even across a short distance from her home to her pool.

"Let's go for a swim, Duke. I think the...pups will like it, too..."

Certainly, her faithful hound pays plenty of extra attention to Cassarah once she emerges in her bikini. Quickly Duke is by her side, brushing up against her, nuzzling against thigh and stomach- that cute wet nose bumping into the slope of her belly, then up into the heaving flesh of her swollen bosom. She hears the wet, slick sound of her lovers co*ck being unsheathed, as Duke joins her down in the waters.

It isn't long before Duke swims up behind her, forepaws climbing up over her shoulders as he presses against her back. Nostalgic perhaps, for Cassarah to be pressed down into the cool stones around the pool, breasts squishing out under her, as Duke mounts her from behind, doggy style. Duke leans in, panting happily as his swollen doggy-co*ck presses between her thighs, awkwardly poking against her fattened hips in an attempt to find her slit, as the damp, warm mass of the hound presses on her back, his heart pounding through his chest into her back.

Cassarah didn't mess around for very long. She got about as far as to cradling her pregnant belly, thinking about how she was going to be a mother , and that she was fated to swell for several months to come before Duke make it clear that he wasn't feeling all that patient, either. There was something about his adorable affection, the way that he licked her belly and nuzzled against her thighs, that left Cassarah all the more in the mood to indulge her lover in his whims. Duke was clearly a proud father, and recognized his own handiwork, which was truly touching, in a way. Cassarah had made a mental note to share some steak with the lucky father tonight, even though today's celebration was going to be tomorrow's headache for the months to come.

Today, however, she propped herself on those steps of her pool, and presenting herself for Duke to mount. He took the invitation immediately, sliding his shaft where it had slotted so many times in the past as soon as Cassarah had pushed her bikini bottoms aside. There, the two began rutting like animals all over again, Cassarah shaking her hips and really feeling the added weight up front. There was just enough to her belly to get it to sway, and as for her chest, her growing mounds bounced and bobbed...went they weren't getting mashed into the ceramic tile in the pool.

Their bonding is a loud, and weighty affair. The heavy body of Duke pressing down, rocking with her- the weight of unborn, gestating children swaying in her belly. The waters slosh and churn as Duke growls, nuzzling into her neck and pounding into her hips from behind. The hound, her taboo lover, towers over Cassarah as he ruts her against the pools side- licking at her neck, his cool nose against her nape, as his muscled hips pound against her. Firm, hard muscle against soft, bouncing hips, Duke shows his devotion, his pride for Cassarah and their unborn children in the moment.

It seems Duke is more eager than usual- rutting faster and harder than every in such an easy, accessible position. Taking her from behind, he f*cks Cassarah until she feels his bulging puppy-co*ck shuddering and pulsing in her depths, the sacks of heavy, swaying doggy-seed slapping against her hips from behind. They pulsate and deflate, as his co*ck bulges with a growing liquid cargo, pressure building and building, until the inevitable eruption within her.

Duke presses flush to her hips as his knot bulges in her slit. And a familiar, weighty mass is added to her gluttonous, fattening baby-bag. Fresh squirming sperm erupts like a geyser into the fertile soil of her ovaries, sloshing and gurgling as her belly is forced to bulge from the sheer volume. He pumps load, after load, after thick sticky load into her belly- stuffing her womb where it isn't already packed with growing pups. And her eager eggs tingle and flush as the squirming masses of sperm drown fresh eggs, pressing and penetrating the vulnerable surface, burning with heat as- of course, every single egg is fertilised thoroughly by her overactive womb, adding yet more impossible puppies to her already laden womb. Duke pants against her neck, his knot keeping him pressed flush to her pack, as his co*ck throbs and pulses within the canal of her slit, the last dribbles of seed spilling into her packed baby factory.

Half-submerged in the cool water of the pool, Cassarah was nevertheless still feeling so very warm with Duke loosing another load of his seed, deep inside her. Seed that she now knew, was far more effective that she had ever imagined. Seed that she still continued to underestimate, paired with her own inherent, fertility. That pleasant feeling that she got whenever their mating reached it's inevitable end? Cassarah assumed it was the feeling of being filled, of taking on that spunk within her. That was only partially correct. The rest was her own body, reacting to being used. To being bred. It kept releasing those eggs for Duke to claim, and rather than run out, it's productivity seemed to be ramping up, trained against what was apparently incredible demand. Cassarah, only just getting used to the idea of having Duke's puppies at all, had little idea as to just how many she was getting saddled with, or how that number had grown again and again.

This latest load was no less effective, bloating her belly out as if several weeks had passed in a blink of an eye. Duke, with that knotted co*ck of his, remained embedded within her, acting as the proverbial cork to her flask, keeping all that hardy spunk where it needed to be until it could be put to use. Cassarah, awash with pleasure, nearly collapsed on those pool steps, loving every minute of being taken like this. Even now, when she was already pregnant, she didn't want to stop, not so long as Duke was interested.

It didn't appear that her litter would lack for siblings for some time.

----

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Whispers abound throughout the off-white walls of Cassarah's workplace. The bland rows of desks are filled with an unusual amount of vigor and chatter, as the office gossip is ramped up thoroughly by this point. The queen of ice herself, the unapproachable bastion of professional ethic.. is pregnant. And- maybe seven or eight months along, if rumor is to be believed. Over water-coolers coworkers speculate how she's hidden it for so long- or who on earth might be the lucky man.

"It's all preposterous Martin." The sales manager, Yusef Grace dismisses. He's a taller man with a cutting dad-bod, with height and enough bulk to his figure to fill out his low navy slacks and crisp white dress shirt nicely, a tie setting off the whole affair. He scratches his slick black hair, huffing. "She's probably just put on a little winter weight- don't get on the poor woman's nerve."

Martin shakes his head emphatically. A younger man with rich ginger hair, skinny with freckles cheeks, he's easy on the eyes the way a vulnerable puppy is nice to look at. "I'm-I'm telling you Mr Grace- my aunt puts up a hell of a thanksgiving spread, and I've never seen any amount of overeating cause a belly like the one she's carrying. Not to mention her tit* are ballooning-"

Just as Martin began to speak, Yusef's expression changed to one of shock, then interest, and then fear, all in quick succession. Martin, who was engrossed in gesticulating to emphasize his point, overlooked the fact that Yusef had stopped making eye contact with him, and that his eyes were darting between Martin and someplace behind Martin. Why that was, of course, became all too apparent when a certain, blonde businesswoman made her presence known.

"Ahem. That is a most interesting conversation you are having in the workplace. Might I join?", Cassarah asked, using two fingers to push her frameless glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. Martin, with his back turned to Ms. Wilhelm, had the color drain from his face the moment he turned around, leading him to be just as pale as those white suits that Cassarah favored. And yet, for all his astonishment, Cassarah could tell that his gaze wavered away from her face, darting down to her chest, then her belly, before struggling to lock back onto her eyes once more. It was highly inappropriate, and yet, Cassarah couldn't exactly reprimand the man for allowing his stare to wander. Cassarah was, undoubtedly, in fact, pregnant. Obviously so. Pacing about with a belly large enough to make her look like she was well in the second trimester, her middle stuck out a couple feet from her torso, and served as a perfect platform for what were easily the largest breasts in the office. It was all contained within a new, formal suit, as she had clearly outgrown all the old ones she typically wore. Despite being on the newer side, however, it appeared to be a little undersized, with gaps between the buttons allowing for small peaks at the abundant cleavage that lied just beneath that conservative clothing.

"Hrm? Nothing more to say? Well, I was just on my way to speak to the department head, so I really must be going, now..."

It is safe to say this is not the first time today Cassarah has watched the men and women of her office crane their heads downward, across the swell of her chest and pregnant belly. Even now some coworkers lean out of their stalls at times to gawk at the passing outline of her. There is a level of satisfaction to be had in scaring the soul out of the young, fresh-faced new hire- as Michael stammers and flails helplessly for a response. Sweat beads his brow as, with a herculean effort- he manages to restore eye contact.

"I- well, you see- ah.. I-I just was explaining that- that.."

The older man shakes his head, Yusef having a bit more backbone than his younger colleague. He looks Cassarah over one last time, shaking his head slightly in disbelief, reaching a hand out and putting it on Martin's shoulder.

"Apologies, Mrs. Wilhelm." The slip of the tongue might be accidental, or just assumed. "I was the one asking questions, Mr Short here was just answering them. I'm sure the bulk of the cooler-talk and rumor-mongering is baseless. I won't keep you- come along, Mr Short." Yusef urges, beginning to drag the still shaken boy away, back to their desk. Martin struggles to drag his eyes off Cassarah's back as they walk, as the low murmur of ebbing conversation returns to the office.

Cassarah coolly watched as the two men departed, retreating back to some unoccupied corner of the department, or their cubicles. She kept her blue-eyed gazed locked onto them until the moment they disappeared from view, where she then let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Incidents like these were becoming increasingly common, and for good reason. Cassarah was not only clearly pregnant, but growing larger by the day, and a great deal larger than she ought to be, just by running the numbers in her head. If she had entertained any foolish notions that she was only having a couple of Duke's puppies, that thought had been thoroughly dashed. To be so large so soon, she absolutely had to be having a healthy litter, at least.

That, being her size and how quickly she had started to show, was going to be an issue, and something the office was going to be talking about for some time. Cassarah had already started to formulate a semi-plausible explanation, which she reviewed in her head as she paced towards the department head's office on those tall, heeled shoes she always wore while on the job. Simply put, she would claim that she was a surrogate, and that she was having more than one. A sort of explanation that would likely satisfy the curiosity of those around her. It would also explain why she wouldn't be raising any human infants herself, anytime soon. For Cassarah, it was the perfect plan, one unknowingly doomed to fail at some point if by virtue of how pregnant she really was.

But ignorant of that, Cassarah strode into the department head's private office with her head held high. When it came to explaining her situation, it only made sense to start with those she personally reported to, and work down from there.

Insulated from much of the office rumor-mill by a fierce reputation and his rank, Sen Sakimodo is a cool-headed businessman. The biochemistry sector is cutthroat and cold, and it takes a certain mind to master the craft of trading in the sector. Sen exhales as the frustrating beep of his intercom pings him about the latest appointment. His junior, the ever-ambitious, ever-effective Miss Wilhelm. Sen lifts the last ball of a newtons cradle and sets it to swinging, a comforting metronome to steady his thoughts once again.

The man dresses smartly, as does everyone else in the office. A rich blue designer suit jacket, with matching pocket square, a crisp black tie with silver lining. And his olive skin compliments rich green eyes, that are complimented by the gelled, perfectly mastered head of straight black hair. He idly adjusts his cuff links, then hits the intercom button as he folds one leg over the other, directing his gaze towards the entrance of his junior.

"You may enter." Sen speaks, commanding, in charge, crisp and professional- his voice carrying the hints of his foreign heritage.

Mr. Sakimodo's response was stiff and professional, basically everything Cassarah had come to expect around the office, and had done her best to foster in the employees she personally oversaw. Lately, it had felt like that had started to change, possibly because of her figure, and how it carried implications that she might be 'cutting loose'. That, was a matter that Cassarah resolved to amend, but in the meanwhile, Sen's reception thus far was a welcome departure from the increasingly frequent gossip among the lower-ranked employees. At least, that was what Cassarah believed, when she first sauntered into his office.

She had entered more or less as she always had, whenever she had to discuss matters with her supervisor. Gracefully, and straight to the point. It seemed that Mr. Sakimodo had been expecting more of the same, himself, at least until her belly came into view. It might have been brief and was just as hastily covered with a cough, but Cassarah could swear that her boss had made an odd gasp, when he first caught sight of her. Hoping that it was just her imagination, Cassarah hoisted a clipboard that she had been carrying up to flip through its contents, a gesture that, inadvertently, pressed against her growing bust and prompted a brief jolt of sensation. Cassarah still hadn't gotten quite used to just how much bigger her chest was, nowadays.

"Good morning, Sakimodo, sir. I wish to start this appointment by getting straight to the point. As you may have heard among those talking in the department...I am indeed pregnant. I have...taken on a surrogacy. I come today to inform you of that, and to pledge that I have no intention of taking maternity unless I absolutely have to."

The silence after her admission is deafening. After that momentary gasp, the brief crack in her supervisors composure, he retreats behind those steady green eyes, hands laced together as he rests his chin on his hands. The practiced coldness of his face is somewhat marred by.. the hint of color in his cheeks. Well hidden by his olive skin tone, but not invisible. He clears his throat again.

"A.. surrogacy." He lets his gaze wander to her belly again. And it lingers there. It lingers for a moment, two, more.. and doesn't return to her face. The faint flush of heat in his cheeks grows slightly. "It is.. highly unprofessional not to consult the firm before making such a commitment, Miss Wilhelm. Highly unlike you. How long have you been carrying them?"

The words are pointed, but there's a faint tremor to his voice. A subtle, but growing falter to his cold tone. And he is yet to look up from her grossly swollen belly, the bed of rapidly swelling life within suffusing her core with warmth.

Cassarah had no real retort to that inquiry, prompting her to momentarily peer downward at the stiff carpet beneath her high-heeled shoes. Or at least, attempt to. Peering downward nowadays mostly filled her vision with plenty of her own chest, and a view of her belly swelling out from beneath it. But even so, Cassarah knew well that if this had at all been planned, rather than a bizarre twist of fate from her time with her dog, she would have informed the office well in advance. But she had been just as surprised as everyone she worked with, and had been made to work with the circ*mstances presented to her on the fly, as would everyone she worked with. However, Cassarah ultimately did not remain silent, for that was far more insubordinate than trying to offer an explanation. Due to her attention being elsewhere, she failed to notice that Mr. Sakimodo wasn't exactly making eye contact, either. Especially when her hand drifted to rest on her swollen stomach, which was so snugly wrapped in the fabric of her suit.

"A...few months. I am actually somewhat early, in my maternity. Surrogacy has a higher chance of multiples, and...well, it is very much a 'them'.", Cassarah began, clearing her throat. She bought herself a few, precious moments to formulate an apology, one that she hoped would satisfy her superior and keep him from tarring her otherwise spotless record within the company.

"I do so apologize. This was not only a sudden event, but I had kept it secret, not wanting to disrupt those around me. I see now that was in error, and that I should have been forthright from the start."

If she chanced to look up, she might spy the way Sen Sakimodo's adams apple bob, as he gulps. Gaze locked to the subtle tightening of her suit jacket- the poor buttons being drawn close to bursting. He lingers in silence after her explanation, his own mind beginning to race. A few months? Even with sextuplets that's impossible. How could she have possibly hidden it for that long, let alone how large it has made her? His gaze wanders up, to her straining chest, and he is forced to adjust his seating so his tight designer pant legs don't pinch and hug his growing erection quite so obviously. Those firm green eyes drink in the view as his cheeks darken slightly more, blood pounding in his ears as his hands curl against the fabric of his jacket.

"Them? How many, Miss Wilhelm? I need exacts to predict when we should expect to see you depart for m-.. maternity leave." That tremor again. Sen grits his teeth again, willing the throb of his heart and his other organ to let up- as he stares helplessly at her bulging assets.

They happened to be bulging, bouncing assets, supported by a true masterwork of a brassiere, as undersized as it may have been. That was thoroughly demonstrated when Mr. Sakimodo's question had caught Cassarah off guard, and she had reflexively taken a quick step backward, jostling those ample breasts of hers until they came to rest upon her stomach once more. Cassarah, having not thought that far ahead, was left to once again come up with plausible responses on the fly. It was perhaps fortunate then, that her boss wasn't all that focused on the surprised look upon her face, was as good a tell as any that she might not have been entirely truthful about the significant matter she had brought to his attention. In the same vein, Mr. Sakimodo was very fortunate that his desk obscured all sight of his erect manhood, allowing Cassarah to remain ignorant as to just how much of an effect she was having upon him.

"T-the number, sir...?", Cassarah repeated, the question not at all one that she had been expecting. "T-that...I am uncertain, my appointment for an ultrasound is not for some time. But it does appear to be a...large number....but as I have mentioned, I do not intend on taking maternity leave until is absolutely necessary. I am...committed to my position here within the company!"

The jostling, the jumping, the subtle sound of sloshing. Heat washes over the supervisors face as he tries to adjust his sitting position. The awful tightness in his trousers constricts him, as he uses one hand to try loosen off the growing painful erection.

"Miss Wilhelm, words are empty. Deeds are what count. And the deed you've done is anything but empty, it's heavy, full, burgeoning, it's-"

[b]Thump.[/b] A dull, fleshy thunk against the bottom of the desk. Sen goes completely stiff- as the other similarly stiff part of him finally manages to loosen from its cramped confines, springing free in a sudden rush- to thunk, loudly, noisily, and flashily against the underside of Sen Sakimodo's desk. His cheeks darken as sweat beads on his brow- as the venerable, cool-headed supervisor is caught with a hand under the desk, throbbing member exposed and pulsing against the hardwood, barely out of view of his junior. Panic flashes in his eyes as his throat goes dry.

"That-.. that is.. to say.." He trails off, eyes lost in the swaying, heavy motion of Cassarah's puppy-stuffed gut once again.

Cassarah had been bracing herself for the worst. In reflex, she twisted her body, as if to endure a physical blow, and held her arms up to her body in a defensive gesture, one that, once again, squished into her exquisite bust. But Mr. Sakimodo's reprimand went in a very odd direction, and when Cassarah opened her eyes, she could see exactly why. It hadn't been his legs that had knocked against the desk, and her boss' reaction made it very clear that there was something bothering him. Rather than continue to allow herself to be scolded from her position a good ways across the room, Cassarah drew closer, her luscious body sashaying with every step she took. Her figure wobbled, swayed, and bounced, so outlandishly luscious and growing more so by the day. If Mr. Sakimodo had prayed for relief, it would be denied, temptation now closer than ever. And at that distance, Cassarah connected the dots, realizing the sort of effect that she was having upon her own boss. She wasn't entirely convinced, and began cautiously, but spoke in a way that was a marked departure from the pure professionalism that had defined everything she had said in the room up until now.

"Sir? I must deeply apologize. I must have been...taken back by just how...pregnant I ended up becoming. To carry so much all at once, to know that this is just the start...it was...very overwhelming..."

By contrast, her words seem to strike Sakimodo like blows. Every step, every word, every slosh and wobble and shake. He gulps, staring up at Cassarah as she /pours/ over the front of his desk, right before his eyes- and he can't meet her gaze, simply staring down into the straining valley of cleavage, a firm tug away from exploding out of her top. There's another dull thud beneath the table as her boss tries to cover up, to tug his behemoth of a co*ck back into confinement- but it refuses. With flushing cheeks and sweat beading on his brow, he speaks again.

".. I.. have heard that.. pregnancy can be very taxing. Affecting weight, balance, hormones." He responds, a tremor to his voice even as he tries to keep his words careful. ".. Perhaps there is.. a way that.. I- the company, could help.. ease that burden. Especially for someone as.. massive.. heavy, milk-laden.. as you are."

No stranger to negotiations with other parties, Cassarah had gained a good deal of experience of reading others, and picking up on clues. Never before, however, had she had to utilize that expertise on her very own supervisor. He wasn't exactly being subtle, but as far as she knew, it could have all been a feint just to see if she would act out of line and give him a reason for a real punishment. But just as Cassarah wondering if she had misread the situation, Mr. Sakimodo went well beyond her expectations, practically ceding the entire conversation to her demands, well before she had actually made any. Realizing this, a superior smile graced Cassarah lips, and the gears in her head had begun to turn. She had been seeing her maternity as a worrisome obstacle to her career, but suddenly, it seemed as if it'd prove to be far, far more beneficial than she had ever imagined. It was on that thought that Cassarah continued her 'assault', going so far as to seat her fattened backside on the corner of Mr. Sakimodo's table, putting her belly within arm's reach of the man himself.

"I am so very glad that you asked, Sir. As there is a way that the company -that you- might be able to help. While I am quite happy with my salary, I have found myself with...heightened wardrobe expenses. It is exactly as you say. Massive, heavy...and more so by the day. I just seem to keep outgrowing everything I buy, so quickly, see?", Cassarah hummed, inching her large belly a bit closer to the man, practically daring him to touch it. "If I could perhaps receive an additional stipend to make sure that I'm always adhering to company standards, well, I would be able to come into the office every workday, right up until the end, no? I would be so [b]very[/b] grateful to the man who would grant me such a boon..."

It's interesting to watch a man undergo both the cold calculus of business, even as the primal urge of unsated hunger spurs his fingers to clench and inch slightly closer to the vast swell of her pregnant stomach. He swallows, but prevents his hands from pouncing upon her vast swell just yet. Sen Sakimodo nods faintly.

".. We consider ourselves a progressive company, Ms Wilhelm. A stipend is a patch to a greater slew of challenges to come. Certainly financial aid is in order, and I would be happy to approve.. a hefty sum, to handle the burgeoning weight those expenses must be putting on you.." His gaze drifts up to her chest, drinking it in none-too-subtly. ".. But other supports are in order. We need an open, private line of communication, for you to express your growing needs. Perhaps a masseuse, to help with any pains, /aches/ you may be enduring.." His gaze drifts toward hungry, his fingers inching ever closer to her swollen dome of a stomach. "I want you to feel supported.. even, joined at the hip with us." Sen doesn't quite lick his lips, but the coolness to his gaze has shifted dramatically to a barely restrained hunger, as just the tips of his fingers brush the sensitive underside of her belly.

Mr. Sakimodo's reply was music to Cassarah's ears. Not only had he agreed to her terms, he had sweetened them, essentially the opposite of what a usual transaction between two parties entailed. All the while, Cassarah kept a firm gaze on her boss, and how he reacted to her presence, so very close. Now, Cassarah was certain that Mr. Sakimodo had some vested interest in her being here, a confirmation that made Cassarah's dazzling smile only grow wider. Getting pregnant hadn't exactly been the plan, but if it offered all these perks, she was so very glad that she had. She could work with this. Cassarah moved to really seal the deal, in ways that mere words or even contractual writing just couldn't compare.

"I would love all of those things, Mr. Sakimodo. It may be a surrogacy, but this is a very important time in my life, no? And don't be shy, you are welcome to feel, if you like.", Cassarah playfully suggested, reaching out to guide her boss' hand to her swollen middle, large and firm. Even through the fabric of her buttoned shirt, there was little hiding the heft of her stomach, or how that it was every bit as real as it looked. It was there, with his hand upon her body, that Cassarah made a decisive strike.

"Oh, speaking of aches...perhaps you might be able to help me with one, right now? I mean, if it isn't too much trouble..."

Inside, Sakimodo tries to refrain from exulting. Long ago he had abandoned the idea of family, of a loving wife, to watch grow rounder and rounder with child. Committed fully to the role of a paper-pusher, cut-throat leader, the promises of a warm, round, pregnant stomach.. they are an impossibly sweet temptation. With her permission, his hands climb up onto her belly- thin fingers tracing the sensitive skin beneath the shirt, tracing the rounded edge where her swollen middle meets her hips, and the rest of her torso.

"Mm.. what kind of an ache? Whereabouts? I wouldn't want to see you uncomfortable." His thumbs trace down, and begin to smoothly loosen, then unfasten the most stretched buttons drawn taut by her belly. Slowly, but steadily beginning to expose the broad curve of her glutted stomach, cradling the warm heat of her biological baby-furnace. Hardly hidden from view now by her high perspective, she can see how his slacks have had their front unfastened, and have allowed a firm, turgid pillar of thick olive co*ckmeat to throb and pulse against the underside of the table. Most is still out of view, but this close to her boss, there is a faint scent of musk to the air- the salty scent of a virile, needy co*ck- one that permeates her home these days thanks to Duke. Sakimodo continues to stroke her stomach, tracing her navel and the fringes of her swollen belly- looking expectantly up towards Cassarah.

With Cassarah still keeping her gaze locked onto her boss, Cassarah subtly reached onto his desk to engage the electronic lock controlled the doors to Mr. Sakimodo's office. The two were about to cross a line, and it did Cassarah little good to risk being discovered by another. Once that matter was handled, she turned her blue eyes right back towards her supervisor, and made a show of just how big she was getting by sweeping her free hand across the swell of her increasingly bare stomach.

"Ah, a deep one, where it's rather hard to reach...", Cassarah remarked, gesturing low. Real low. There were no two ways about it, there was exactly one place where she wanted Mr. Sakimodo's co*ck to go, and she bent over in front of him to really hammer it home. Up front, she was already loosening her tight pencil skirt, so that it could be dropped, and pushed out of the way. With his large chair, however, it seemed likely that she could just take a seat upon his lap, and nestle that manhood of his inside. Only briefly, did Cassarah wonder if Mr. Sakimodo would be as enthused as being with her if he had known that a dog had beaten him to the punch, but ultimately, that thought was shelved. He was clearly enjoying himself, and there was no reason to ruin the moment for him when there was so much in it for her. As far as Cassarah was concerned, this was entirely upside. It wasn't as if she could get more pregnant...

"Perhaps you can tend to it with something...long...?"

Her boss makes his stance on the matter rather clear as he climbs out of his chair, and wraps his hands around her thighs- coaxing her back down onto the desk. Flushed with heat, he stares at the sheer bounty of flesh wobbling, his fingers taking their eager time to unwrap the rest of her crisp working attire. His long delicate fingers travel all the way up to her bust, before pulling free the last few buttons- letting loose her full, fecund form.

"I do believe, Ms Wilhelm, that can be arranged.." He mutters, as his large hands lower then sink into her swollen chest, kneading and groping the milky, bare flesh. All the while, he hips align with the desk, and with her hips in turn. Taking one hand off her mammaries, he tosses free her pencil skirt- and slips aside any offending underwear beneath, before satisfying that deep, hungry itch in one satisfying push. The long, floor to ceiling windows open up before the entire cities downtown behind them- exposed to the world, as Sakimodo starts rutting into Cassarah. Unlike Duke he is no messy, brutal beast, he builds rhythm. Each thrust pushes deeper, pressing Cassarah down into her bed as his swollen, shuddering co*ck plows deep into her belly- filling her canal with pulsing firm meat, stretching out her depths in the form of his co*ck. Again, and again, and again, as he begins to pant and groan with building lust. His co*ck was already firm and raring to go- and the head of his shaft is firmly pushing against the vulnerable entrance to her womb, that probing co*ck-head oozing precum onto her poor eggs already.

All that extra weight proved to be quite the boon, every thrust Mr. Sakimodo made from below was countered by Cassarah's mass bearing right back down on him and his co*ck. She had lost count of how many times she had allowed herself to be taken by Duke, but another man...this was a first for Ms. Wilhelm, who found that she was by no means disappointed with the outcome. Is was quite different than the raw, bestial advance of her Great Dane at home, and in some ways inferior, but it didn't take long to see the appeal of more traditional mating. Duke, for all his benefits, was just simply unable to reach around her body and squeeze her sensitive chest, tender and swelling larger, week by week. Nor could do much to tease her body anywhere other than her sex.

And yet, the fact that Cassarah still held the two of them comparable spoke highly of just how incredible her dog really was. Mr. Sakimodo wasn't about to make a convert of her, but if it always felt this good, Cassarah saw no reason why their special relationship could come to an early end. It was along that line of thought that Cassarah rocked her hips, and did all she could to nestle her own boss deeper between her legs and closer to her womb. Eventually, she sensed that he was near her cervix, pointed straight at it, much like Duke had, time and time again. That was the point where she began to really clamp down, as if to milk Mr. Sakimodo's co*ck of everything it had to spare. She wanted it all.

If only she knew the 'damage' it'd do...

"Go-o-ods you're tight!!" Her new lover groans, his thrusts slowing as her clenching forces him to hammer her cervix even harder. Slow but steady. Each pound slams his toned muscular thighs into her fat ass, loud claps filling the office as the sounds of their lovemaking echo throughout the office. Noisy, wet and desperate. Both of Sakimodo's hands grab her thighs, spreading her legs wide, bare and open to his seeding. It's rather clear Sakimodo also doesn't see any threat in what he's about to do- as his co*ck slams into the barrier of her cervix, and breaches it. Her milking efforts come to a rapid fruition as Sakimodo slumps forward with one last gasping moan, falling onto her swollen belly, head nestling into her ample cleavage- as he c*ms.

Her insides clench around the spasming shape of her bosses turgid meat-pillar as it bulges with the passing swells and pulses of pumping seed. And the promise of each bulge in his burgeoning co*ck is delivered. Her womb bloats and bulges as the heavy mass of severely backed up cum explodes in her belly, roiling and gurgling as fresh seed churns and gurgles against the walls of her womb. Heat lances through her ovaries, used to providing for the masses of doggy sperm they're used to receiving. The virile, thick cum of a backed up, virile man swarms each egg and begins rapidly stuffing them with a fresh brood. Eggs used to providing large litters for her mate back home, provide the same service to the much larger, heavier spawn of her new mate, as her belly swells and gurgles with fresh cum. Sweat mixes together as Sakimodo lies atop Cassarah in the afterglow, panting heavily as his co*ck pulses and throbs in the wake of his messy climax. ".. Mmh.. laundering services may, also.. be a part of the stipend..."

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

That day, part of which was spent with Mr. Sakimodo, Cassarah not only gained a liaison and a generous stipend within the company, but a number of extra, human children, to boot. Not that she was aware of the fact. So convinced that she couldn't get any more pregnant in her condition, she hadn't thought twice about the fact that Mr. Sakimodo had dumped that impressive load of spunk into her womb at point-blank range, stuffing her belly with even more kids than it already carried. As far as she was concerned, she had just gained an incredible asset to be utilized for work. If she ever needed a favor from her supervisor, all she needed to do was sashay down to the man's office, and allow him to lavish some attention on her belly. A small, small price to pay for what had lead to greater freedom around the workplace, and a significant salary increase.

But as that matter was settled, Cassarah eventually made her condition official around the office. As official as any lie that she had carefully constructed could be, anyway. For anyone that asked, Cassarah was a surrogate for a needy family, and was expecting multiples, a story that satisfied the curiosity of most who saw fit to ask. However, where Cassarah thought that would settle the matter right then and there, she found herself subject to an invitation...being treated to dinner at a bar. Despite having spent months fostering a reputation as a no-nonsense, results-oriented supervisor, her subordinates had jumped at the chance to celebrate something, and had arranged the whole thing before she knew it. With those beneath her going to such trouble, not even Cassarah could bring herself to decline, and the reservation was made for just a couple weeks in advance.

Those weeks would skip on by in a blink of an eye, but with the passage of time...came the continued growth of Cassarah's brood. Unknowingly filled with so much life, her figure was striving to rise to the occasion, and swell right alongside her outlandish pregnancy. Cassarah was made aware of that much, when she tore through yet another skirt in the days leading up to the bar party. She was definitely going to have to get some better-fitting clothes...

The Black Flare is a very modern affair. Past the low-ceiling hall that leads into the bar proper, the space is a wide locale, booths set up around the walls of the establishment- and a bar in the center, from which drinks are mixed and served up. The place is lit in low purple tones, LED lights marking the exits, bar, and the live performance stage. It's a Friday night- meaning that the place is rather busy, a hubbub of chatter, laughter and clinking drinks filling the hall, as a flowing crowd of bodies network, dance, and enjoy themselves for the night. Up on stage a local band plays some easy-on-the-ears synth music, to which a throng of younger, more playful bodies dance and grind together nearby.

Corporate secured a long booth for the company night out, which is currently packed with members of Cassarah's floor of the building. Some are more familiar than others- Dylan from the IT department is present, as is Martin- the younger man who was gossiping about her condition not long ago. Both are dressed in their formal work outfits, dress shirts and slacks- though a few more buttons than policy dictates are unfastened. One of the other leads of the office, Marilyn, also seems to be a few cups deep- giggling and chatting to Cassarah's scheduler and secretary, Antonio Russo, who's dry expression is only faintly creased with a bored frown, as he looks for a means to escape the conversation. The two of them are much more dressed up- Antonio in a very crisp waistcoat and tie ensemble, all subtle shades of grey and blue, while Marilyn wears a strapless green dress, which fits the modern up-class aesthetic of the Black Flare nicely. All in all there a small crowd of eight or nine coworkers chatting together at the booth, sharing drinks and chatting casually.

For the rest of Cassarah's department, the bar celebration wasn't all that unusual. A sizeable group of coworkers all enjoying dinner together wouldn't really turn any heads, at least until the drinks started to produce some interesting behavior. But by itself, only the servers at the Black Flare would really take notice of their groups, knowing that they were in for healthy tips by the time they closed shop. At least, that was the case. Then Ms. Wilhelm had finally arrived on the scene.

She was the last to arrive, of course. Getting around wasn't getting any easier, and as she had discovered when she had driven herself to the venue, that included getting behind the wheel of a car. Even when pushing the driver's seat all the way back, Cassarah was faced with difficulty and obstacles, wrought by a figure that had just kept on growing with -and in response to- the staggering amount of life it housed and nurtured. For as buxom as Cassarah had been to begin with, never had she envisioned a future where it would be tricky to keep her chest from rubbing against the steering wheel. And that wasn't even touching on the matter of her ballooning belly, just beneath those! However, Cassarah did make the trip, and trotted towards the entrance to the bar to meet up with those beneath her. When she arrived, plenty of heads were turned.

As anyone who saw her on a daily basis could tell right away, Cassarah had grown. Breasts that rivaled her own head in size. A belly that was getting harder for her to wrap her arms around. All contained in a dress that would have been sultry even before her pregnancy. This far into her condition, her assets were hoisted and accentuated, her belly was impossible to ignore. And the former had a way of jiggling with every step Cassarah took on those high heeled shoes of hers. The brands might have been adhering to fashion, but it was evident that it was at least a 'little' undersized...just like the booth that Cassarah soon found herself trying to squeeze into.

"Pardon, hope I did not keep anyone waiting for too long. Is there...any room for me...?"

Jumping at the chance to do something other than sit by Marilyn and have his ear talked off, and by far one of the most inoculated to Cassarah's increasingly enticing body, Antonio stands. "Just a moment, Miss Wilhelm." Even in these circ*mstances, even if he's had a drink or two- the young man is ever attentive, and perpetually polite. He looks to Dylan expectantly. Though Dylan is still gawking, right down into the deep valley of Cassarah's cleavage. With a low sigh through the nose, Antonio looks to Martin next. "Mr Valdez.. aid me with the table."

Martin starts from his own, slightly more subtle ogling. "Ah- of course.." And, the two of them push the table, making the squeeze on one end of the booth a bit tighter- while at Dylan's end, there's a little more room for the poor woman. Marilyn waves cheerily to Cassarah, beaming a little bit drunkenly. "Cassarah!~, I'm so glad you came! How are the little ones- not too unruly yet I hope?"

Even outside their group, Cassarah can feel almost perpetual eyes on her- dancers on the floor stumble in their steps when she waddles past, boys out on dates ogle her as she walks past- much to their dates chagrin. Even as she shifts to be seated, with Antonio offering his hand to help her into the stall- she hasn't fully escaped the stares of the mounting Friday crowd.

Cassarah, of course, felt the stares upon her, as understandable as they were. A pregnant woman was definitely a rarity in a bar. A really pregnant woman was even more so. A part of Cassarah was left wondering if she'd have attracted less attention if she had walked in with a second head, but ultimately, such self-conscious thoughts were pushed aside when she was finally able to reunite with her group. They weren't innocent of staring, either, but having had a great deal more time to get used to the sight of her waddling about, none of them were remotely as shocked. At least until Cassarah had nestled herself into that booth, proper. With a bit of work from her colleagues, a spot had been prepared for Cassarah. It was a spot she only barely fit into, much to her embarrassment.

Although much attention was hogged to the front of her body, her backside had swelled with her pregnancy, and the abundant padding she felt down below was testament to that. Cassarah could just managed to wedge her taut belly underneath the table by orienting it downward, but in doing so, she prompted a pained cough out of Dylan. Although it hadn't been quite as obvious from her point of view, Cassarah's bust had become grand enough to rest against the table in her current posture, looking as luscious as can be. With the low-cut nature of her dress, veritable acres of cleavage were on full display. Any red-blooded man would find it difficult to keep their thoughts and intentions entirely pure, next to that.

"T-there. I hope I am not troubling you, Martin. Especially after you had gone to all this trouble arranging this whole thing."

The booking for the booth was definitely made with eight in mind. Which means that once Cassarah squeezes her way into the booth, space becomes a bit more of a premium. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for Antonio- he ends up being the one squished against Cassarah's side. Cassarah feels his thigh and hip forced rather flush against her, as she squeezes her way into the booth with much effort. Her ever professional secretary doesn't make much mention of it- wordlessly offering her the drinks menu, the page with non-alcoholic beverages on display. But even his composure is being tested, as he does his best not to stare down the front of her shirt, or focus on the way her plush rear end is pouring against his firm thigh and waist.

Martin waves his hand dismissively, a wry smile on his lips after Cassarah gets comfortable. "It's no trouble at all, promise! I'm friends with the shift manager, it was easy as could be to book- and besides, l felt bad after the other day- I wanted to make things up to you somehow." He scratches the back of his head with a light chuckles, cheeks a light dusting of red as he takes his glass and drinks deep.

Dylan coughs again, this time to draw attention- and he is doing much worse than the other pair. Fully flushed throughout his face, and alternating between looking anywhere else in the club, then right down the table to the perfect view of Cassarah's cleavage, he may have it the worst of all from his vantage point at the table. "I- I'll be back in just a moment, I need to get a refill.. does anyone else want a drink?" He asks, having just drained the rest of his fruity-looking co*cktail.

Cassarah, by virtue of her condition, abstained from alcoholic beverages, instead opting for something sweet, to suit her recent cravings. A tall iced tea was her order, catering to that sweet tooth of hers, and helping soothe the pangs of hunger that had accompanied the blonde to the venue. As was fairly expected, Cassarah's appetite had been growing markedly over the last few months, as she was no longer eating just for herself. Just how many she was eating for, however, she couldn't even begin to fathom, still on that thought that she had allowed Duke to 'only' sire a single litter within her. When it came to everyone else that had come to party, however, alcohol was plentiful and flowing, with nobody taking up the position of a designated driver. Even Antonio, so serious and studious at work, was taking the opportunity to have a few drinks. He was, though, on the lower end, compared to how many Marilyn and the others were putting away.

All that booze proved to be something of an icebreaker at the table, no one feeling too intimated from having their very pregnant boss nearby to speak their mind or have fun. This, Cassarah could appreciate, as the last thing she wanted was to be the proverbial wet blanket, to bring the fun to a full stop as everyone walked on eggshells around her. As that was avoided, even Cassarah was cracking a smile, time from time.

But that wasn't to say everything was going perfectly. By virtue of the breadth of her bust and width of her hips, it was very hard not to bump into Antonio in some way, constantly serving as a reminder for Cassarah as to just how much she had grown, these past few months. Antonio said little on the matter, and apologized whenever they collided, but Cassarah got a hint as to his more honest feelings when she accidentally brushed against his pantleg beneath the table. There, she felt something big, hard, and throbbing. It'd prompt a glance between her and Antonio that showed they both realized what each other knew. Suddenly, Cassarah was starting to feel needy, rubbing her thickened thighs together in her seat...

The ice is wholeheartedly broken. Marilyn is out on the dance floor with another intern, enjoying the live music- and as alcohol flows, the cheeks get rosier and lips get looser. Martin gets more free talking about just how /full/ Cassarah is looking, and David's occasional glances have morphed into long lapses of lost concentration, just ogling Cassarah's body openly. But the most surprising addition to the men she's gradually enthralling, is definitely her secretary Antonio. The professional man makes no mention of it, but her frequent adjustments and movements practically leave her half in his lap- enjoying the warmth of his thigh, the hint of toned chest muscle through his tunic. And when she's smothering half his thigh with her rump after a moment of miscalculated motion, Cassarah plants her derrière right on top of a throbbing co*ck, turgid and twitching- drawing a sharp gasp from Antonio. From then on Cassarah can see the swollen outline of his tent whenever she glances down, Antonio's face beaded with sweat as he clenches the table with white knuckles.

Finally, the straw breaks- and Antonio looks to Cassarah. "Miss Wilhelm- apologies, could you stand for a moment..? I need to use the washroom." He says, his tone flat and dry. A hint of shame in his eyes as he tries not to look at her face or body. His intentions are abundantly clear- he's been nursing this swollen hard on for nearly an hour now, stoked by the occasional bump or squish, and the urge has clearly grown unbearable.

Cassarah, by no means spared from that onslaught of temptation, had been waiting for any and all excuse to wriggle her way out of that booth, if only for a little bit. Between the music and the dull roar of countless conversations, much of the noise around her had ultimately been tuned out, allowing her internal thoughts to become that much prominent. They were most filled with fantasies of sex, and of pleasure, of being with Sakimodo...and Duke. Antonio had become a part of those very same fantasies, just by virtue of his proximity, and Cassarah having felt his 'interest'. When he moved to excuse himself, Cassarah did her best to follow suit, pivoting her big-bellied self to the rest of the table to explain that she would be making a brief departure, as well.

"T-that is fine. I too...need to use the washroom. T-the little ones...you know how it is...", Cassarah announced aloud, to the rest of the party. It was probably for the best that everyone around her was to some degree a bit tipsy, or it'd have been far more evident that Cassarah was blushing nearly as hard as David and Martin had been, whenever they locked their gaze upon her and her oversized bust. But her own feelings had been left to slip by undetected, and she ended up accompanying Antonio in the direction of the washrooms, which were thankfully well-maintained...and currently not occupied. There was palpable tension in the air when the two were just ding little more than walking side by side, but right at the moment where the two would part for separate rooms, Cassarah ended up grasping Antonio by the wrist. She had donned a serious expression that anyone who worked her was keenly familiar with.

"...I'll help you with that. Take me with you to the men's room. Right now."

Heat. Wet, sticky heat. The bathrooms of a bar are hardly the best ventilated spaces, and when you combine that with two sweaty, desperate bodies trying to squeeze together into the space- the only apt descriptor is.. heat. The stall they've slipped into is narrow, maybe a metre wide- with a simple porcelain toilet, and the bare necessities accompanying. And Antonio is in the process of helping Cassarah bend over the rim of it, his hands groping her hips lustily as he grinds his fat, throbbing co*ck against her fat ass, both hands roughly groping her hips- squeezing her flesh around his clothed shaft.

"Miss.. Wilhelm, haahh.. y-you need to bend further, so I can get your dress out of the way.." Antonio mutters, as Cassarah hears the metallic clink of a zipper being undone- before a much more prominent, warm pillar of f*ckmeat starts being squished in the cleft of her rear. It throbs and twitches eagerly as Antonio starts gripping the lower half of her dress, hiking it up onto her back, out of the way of her thighs, and her fertile hips below. Those rugged hands keep squeezing, kneading, and helping support Cassarah as the stall rattles and shakes with their messy, partially drunken lack of coordination. Bellies bumping against the walls, heated breaths panting, a noise that seems to fill the air around them- as Antonio leans over her back to plant another aggressive kiss on her neck, teeth grazing the skin as he grinds his shaft between her thighs, closer and closer to her waiting womb.

It hadn't at all been planned, but Cassarah was left very glad that she had decided on wearing a dress to this outing, for it proved to be a far deal easier to access than one of her work-suits. She had gone with the former more out of necessity than anything, her formal attire growing more and more ill-fitting by the week, if not day, in ways that went beyond the breadth of her belly. Even Cassarah's undergarments, unveiled with her dress hiked up, looked content to sink into those plush cheeks and practically disappear. It took some some fishing on Antonio's part to see them removed and tugged down Cassarah's childbearing hips to be granted access, but once he had, Cassarah was so very, very ready for him.

"Q-quickly, before anyone else notices!", Cassarah hissed back, knowing full well that meant other bar patrons, as well as their colleagues back at the table. Questions would be raised if they took too long, and at all times, anyone could enter the bathroom. It was only by virtue of the booming music that was drowning out most sound in the room that they wouldn't get detected right from the start. But Cassarah braced herself to keep quiet, as she felt the head of Antonio's shaft plunge between her legs, right where she needed it most. Even a drunkard would notice if a woman was moaning in the bathroom. The problem was, keeping quiet was a great deal harder than she had imagined. Not only did Antonio send pleasure sparking up her spine, her swollen belly and bust just rubbing the sides of the stall had a way of assaulting her mind with erotic sensations. Had stalls always felt this narrow...?

Antonio is anything but gentle with her. Quickly seems to be the aim of the game, as he breathes out a lusty sigh with the first stroke into her depths. His toned form presses into her back, bending her down as the wall of the stall jitters and creaks, the cold surface stark against their warm flesh. With her pressed against the wall of the stall, Antonio starts rutting her hips with an instinctual need- the much more pressing sound of meaty, sticky hips slapping together beginning to echo through the bathroom too. Joining it are Antonio's low, lusty grunts- a steady rhythm of groans and pants, that join the blatant sound of their jostling bodies clapping together loudly.

At least for the moment, one might pass it off as a drunk guy getting his rocks off- and that is half true. Cassarah feels the way Antonio's co*ck is already fat and bulging with fullness, as two healthy, cum-bloated balls gurgle and slap against her litter-stuffed belly with each thrust. She can feel just how close that turgid spire of co*ckmeat is to erupting as it slams on the door to her cervix, Antonio's body flush to hers, his hands wrapping around her hips to rut the pregnant dog-f*cker even better.

"Can't.. ugh! about to, ngh, to..!" Antonio warns between lusty, feral grunts as he buries his co*ck in her furthest depths, filling her canal with the bulging sensation of being spread around an unfamiliar co*ck. A violating warmth that throbs with mounting desperation, as his co*ck begins to bulge with the sheer volume of approaching cum.

Cassarah had crossed professional boundaries once already with Mr. Sakimodo, so doing so again hardly crossed the blonde's mind. She thought only of how great it felt, to have Antonio inside of her, and how much he'd likely appreciate the experience. Cassarah even reasoned that is was a way that she could show her thanks to Antonio, for everything he did at the office to make the day-to-day run that much more smoothly. But ultimately, it was her own, hormone-fueled desires that had pushed her to this pint. She had never really considered herself mother material, and had never thought she'd be getting pregnant, anytime soon. Now that she had, however, it was so very hard to deny...that sex felt several orders better than it had ever, before.

In no position to really ponder the difference, Cassarah instead started to clamp down on that hard, twitching manhood, just as it was primed to blow. As had become always the case whenever she let her desires run wild, Cassarah didn't even consider the option of encouraging -or even allowing- her partner to pull out. She was already pregnant, and the best part was about to arrive. Cassarah maintained her vice-grip on that shaft, and mewled a half-delirious response, right in that cramped, cramped stall.

"D-do it! R-right...now! Fill me...!"

"Y-yes, haha, Miss..!!" Antonio groans in reply, grabbing her ass and pulling her back onto his co*ck- as his swollen girth pries into her tight cervix just in time. And that desperate yawning hunger in her belly, is sated all over again. Those increasingly ravenous ovaries are flooded all over again with potent swimmers as Antonio paints her womb with a glaze of cum. His balls gurgle and he starts to sag, as the sheer backed up contents of his overfull cumfactories are summarily delivered via twitching, bulging co*ck, into Cassarah's receptive womb.

And as the pair, faces flushed and bodies still bearing a sheen of sweat, return to the booths together a few minutes later- Cassarah still feels that fresh cum sloshing and gurgling in her womb, staining her taut panties as the thick mess tries to escape. Even when Dylan waves and tries to chat her up about how her dog is getting on, it's impossible to ignore the heat rising from her belly- her impossibly fertile ovaries gulping in Antonio's virile swimmers by the dozen, as spine-tingling shivers flood her nerves with every egg that's successfully flooded, and bred. Each one a new child adding to her increasingly bloated, fecund frame.

Getting bent over in a men's bathroom stall was hardly the most romantic or glamorous way to make love, but it had definitely served its purpose, rewarding Cassarah with that incredible sensation of being filled all over again. Certainly, Cassarah wouldn't tell anyone of what she had one, and was doing, within the washroom of the club, but there wasn't a part of her that regretted going this far. That feeling that welled up within her, and swirled around in her swollen, pregnant stomach, it just simply couldn't be obtained on her own. Once Antionio had reached that climax and began pumping his seed into her belly with no barriers or protection to speak of, Cassarah was ushered headlong into her own climax that had her fighting not to drool on the toilet seat. That burst of pleasure, and the resulting satisfaction, had made it all worth it.

"T-that...was just what I needed. And I think...it was what you needed too, huh...?", Cassarah huffed, still catching her breath after the two had bucked and humped like mad in that cramped stall. Unlike Duke, whose knotted co*ck had a way of staying erect for several minutes after the fact, Antonio was deflating far sooner, allowing him to eventually pull out from Cassarah's glistening puss*, sopping with lust and seed. Although Cassarah hadn't really been paying attention, little of what Antonio had 'donated' actually slipped back ut. The bulk had been forced into the blonde's overly stuffed womb, adding onto a brood that was already history in the making. Ignorant of this, Cassarah did her best to clean herself up, straighten her hair, and disguise any evidence of what she had been doing with Antonio. Although the two had made their fun quick, the longer it took to get back, the more likely the other employees were going to start asking questions as to what was taking them so long...

When the pair return to the table, it's a little bit sparser than before. Antonio guides Cassarah to her seat once again, and still sitting there are a couple of coworkers. Most notably among them, is Dylan. He is quickly finishing off what appears to be a recently bought drink, staring down into it- not even ogling Cassarah a little bit as she pours into the stall. And, much more interestingly- despite not staring as her pregnant frame slides under the table, he's still wearing a deep, heavy flush of pink to his cheeks. Martin welcomes Cassarah back with a wave and a grin, as Antonio settles into his seat.

"Cassarah! Took you a little while- but, I suppose that's understandable when you're having a harder time fitting in the stalls.. what's your excuse Antonio? No peeping, no HR disputes I hope?"

Antonio for his part gives Martin a dry glance, ignoring the way that Cassarah still faintly presses against his side with her wide hips- and Cassarah can ogle his half-hard co*ck still, filling out the leg of his pants even now. "I waited for her to help her get through the dance floor." He answers, a simple, blunt lie. Martin seems to buy it with a light shrug, returning to his drink. And Dylan looks down into his mug- sparing a brief glance toward Cassarah, before that heated flush returns with full force- and he distracts himself with his phone instead.

Things swiftly seemed to return to normalcy when Cassarah returned, Antonio following close behind. Everyone was still enjoying their drinks, their food, or otherwise chatting among themselves around topics were generally not permitted at the company. Antonio, having gotten his rocks off, had calmed down a great deal, to the point where it appeared he might be able to endure Cassarah's presence next to him for the rest of the evening. The others, on the other hand, were looking as unsettled as ever, even though they had been forced to accept they could only look at the tantalizing sight before them. Cassarah, in her absence, certainly had not gotten any smaller. With a bust as large as hers, it still rested right on the table, and was prone to wobbling. What had changed, was something that wasn't so obvious to anyone else. After taking a fairly large load of seed in that washroom, Cassarah's belly was, in fact, bigger. Only slightly so, but even small amounts were all the more noticeable when the far end of her stomach was rubbing against the underside of the table. More than ever, Cassarah was feeling a little snug, and she tried to get her mind of matters by turning her gaze onto Dylan, distracting himself with his phone.

"Getting bored, already, Dylan? I've only got the most basic games on my phone, stuff like solitaire...Oh-!", Cassarah began, fishing out her own smartphone from her purse, and holding it up. It didn't make for the most interesting conversation, but it became a whole lot more intriguing when Cassarah, in an unplanned act of clumsiness, let her own phone slip from her fingers...right into her cleavage. Rather than bouncing off those weighty knockers, Cassarah's phone threaded the proverbial needle, nestling itself deep between those breasts. Cassarah, mortified at her own slip-up, plunged a hand between her enormous breasts to try and fish it out. She failed to stop and think what doing so would look like to her male colleagues, gathered at the table around her...

"...Ah, j-just a second, I think I almost got it...!"

The reaction is palpable at the table. Antonio is spared more than most by virtue of his position to one side. But Martin and Dylan bear the full brunt of such a weighty assault on their male instincts. Dylan gasps, stammers, and both hands go under the table to do.. something. Martin is braver.. much braver. Lubricated by many drinks and a lot of confidence, he leans towards Cassarah, still struggling to find her phone. "C'mon Cassarah, isn't the rest of you clumsy enough? Here- let me." He snickers, and boldly slides a hand against her dress- dipping into the heavy swells of her cleavage. His hand glides against the surface of her tit*, calloused, big fingers knocking and bouncing between milk-swollen mammaries- as he deftly digs her phone out, and tugs it free of her cleavage- leaving her dress tugged down dangerously far in the process. He presents it to Cassarah with a smirk, wetting his lips with his tongue. "All yours.."

Color had graced Cassarah's cheeks when she was carefully searching, her act of clumsiness had been embarrassing, and touching her sensitive chest wasn't helping the matter, any. But when Martin stepped up to 'assist', Cassarah's face really got red. Rather than carefully try to remove her smartphone without touching her as much as possible, Martin relished the chance to dig in without restraint, emboldened by the sizable quantity of 'liquid courage' that he had imbibed. Cassarah, who had always been the one to intimidate those beneath her into staying in line and performing their duties perfectly, was left stunned, shocked that Martin could ever be so forward. And yet, she did not stop him, new pleasure surging through her body, coursing up her spine when her oversized tit* were squeezed and rubbed. By the time Martin had succeeded in returning Cassarah's phone, the blonde was shuddering in her booth seat, afflicted with desire anew.

She did try to hide it, and suppress the hormone-fueled urges. Cassarah's first act was to try and straighten her dress, tugging that fabric back up around her chest so her lacy brassiere could not peek around it. In doing so, however, she'd send those meaty mounds jiggling, and that proved to be just as stimulating for Cassarah as it was for the red-blooded men at her table. Where just several minutes prior, she had thought that she wouldn't be getting aroused anymore tonight, Cassarah was once again wrestling with thoughts of men...and mating.

"T-thanks, Martin. Say, I'd like to stretch my legs a little. You wouldn't want to...dance, would you?"

Martin blinks, then shoots a Cheshire grin towards Cassarah. "A dance? With the illustrious woman of the hour herself? I'd be honored- so long as you don't mind me stumbling, just a bit.. heh. Had a few more drinks than I should already." He rises from his seat, and walks around to Cassarah's side- offering her his arm. An arm that, since his business attire has become much more casual later in the night, exposes an inked design up his forearm, contrasting his olive skin. His eyes glimmer knowingly, as almost every other eye around the table glares enviously at Martin.

"Lets dance, Cass." Martin purrs with a voice like honey, the heavy scent of mead and alcohol lingering on his breath, as he takes Cassarah's hand and lifts her out of her seat, bumping her swollen belly against his midsection. An act that lets her feel the crease of his muscular core grinding against her swollen dome, then further down- the burgeoning shape of a swollen manhood, filling out the leg of his trousers. And Martin lets Cassarah lead him out onto the dance floor.

"If anything, I imagine that just puts us on a level playing field, what with my current condition...", Cassarah quipped right back, taking Martin's offered hand to accompany him to the dance floor. Cassarah had never really considered herself much of a dancer. She wasn't aware of any special moves or things she could do that would particularly impress. She would, however, garner attention no matter what she did. Her presence in the bar was still an extreme outlier, and bystanders found the incredible pregnant blonde hard to ignore when she was just seated with the rest of her party. But when she strolled onto the dance floor atop those high heeled shoes, just about anyone that could witness it was left intrigued and captivated. There was no chance a single one of them, man or woman, had seen anything quite like this.

And now that Cassarah was no longer seated, sequestered within a booth, Martin could see much of what had been obscured or otherwise downplayed, the entire package that was Cassarah's figure. For one, Cassarah was a good deal taller than most women, and some men. The heels she wore only exaggerated her height, giving her the air of some sort of amazon. Those huge breasts might have been front and center, but that taut belly was larger still, and had a way of prodding him when they got close. His hands, drifting lower, would confirm what was already implied by the way Cassarah's dress flared out near that stomach. That pregnancy hadn't just ballooned those breasts and blimped that belly. Cassarah had a salacious pair of hips, and a luscious rear to boot. There was no shortage of places for Martin to grip, to squeeze, to rub, while the two started to find their rhythm, and seductively sway to the music. If it started off innocuously, it definitely didn't stay that way for long. Even amid all the other dancers on the dance floor, the two were discovering just how easy -and tempting- it was to grind their bodies together...

To say things began innocuously, would be a misnomer. What Cassarah is quick to discover- is that unlike Duke, unlike Sen, unlike Antonio.. Martin is in no rush. Rather, he seems quite content to set the rhythm of their dance. By necessity, he spends most of his dance behind her- hands wrapping around her waist as they sway together. And those hands are not shy. What begins with gently teasing the underside of her tit* with his thumbs, soon graduates to long, lingering strokes down her belly, his fingers even teasing at pushing between her thighs- still separated by the dress, but a hand between her legs is daring no matter the cloth between them. And she is not deprived of plenty of flesh to press against. He teases her at first- gently nudging his crotch into her rear, teasing her with tantalizing brushes of his swollen shaft. When she's feeling neglected- he almost seems to know, and his hands pull her in flush- letting her feel the full swollen shape of his engorged package grinding against her lips. He holds her there for almost ten seconds, rolling his hips slowly, almost dry-humping her right on the dance floor- before teasingly withdrawing, back to brushes, squeezes, gropes and kneads.

Martin leans in close, right on her ear from behind, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. ".. How did it feel, Cass..? Mm.. a woman like you.. implanted with some faceless man's seed in a clinic? No.. someone f*cked these babies into you, didn't they? Bent you down and bred you, leaving your womb utterly stuffed to the brim.." He purrs, lips gently brushing her ear, his tongue teasing the lobe with a hint of moisture- as he lets her feel his engorged manhood against her ass again.

There had been a time where hearing such language from Martin, let alone all the ways he was getting physically intimate, would have easily been grounds for termination from the company. Cassarah had been straight-laced and serious when leading her department, and she felt that those beneath her had come to respect her, with time. And yet, be it due to the allure of her figure, the alcohol that Martin had drank, or some combination of the two, Cassarah's own subordinate spoke as if he had been the one in charge, all along. He backed up his words with action, snaking his fingers in all manner of places across Cassarah's fertile figure. Whether it was between her thickening thighs that had a tendency to rub together, or the bountiful bust that spilled over the sides of his palms, no part of her was left off-limits. It made for an astonishing departure from the normal, but when Cassarah began to shudder with a twisted feeling of delight, she couldn't exactly claim that she disliked the treatment. When it came down to it, Martin's actions stemmed from his interest, interest in her, and that was something Cassarah could appreciate, in turn.

"Aauh...sounds like you are just...envious. That some clinic had done the deed, and...beat you to it...", Cassarah whispered back, pushing out her rear to drag against her partner's groin. Feeling Martin's hands upon her in such a lecherous fashion was tempting Cassarah in ways she had never imagined would be so effective. And so, when it continued, Martin going as far as to squeeze her breasts, Cassarah made her next move.

"...like my breasts? My belly, too, hm? I could show them to you...really show them...with a bit of privacy. How about we take this...to the washroom...?"

Martin chuckles against her ear, always whispering- each breath tickling the sensitive skin. His hands slide up and cup her tit*, hefting their weight for a moment, before they drift down. Rubbing the full expanse of her belly, up and down.

"Mmf.. you didn't even deny it Cass.. was it even a surrogacy, I wonder? Or some depraved night of naked need.." He murmurs, letting her tit* drop and watching the show over her shoulder. He moans softly onto her ear when she grinds on his co*ck, lusty, hungry, as he grins. His hands wander, giving her ass a firm squeeze, then a light push.

"Lead the way, big girl.. I'll be right behind, enjoying the view." Martin purrs, following after his superior, quite happy to watch her waddle and sway, his slacks still precariously tented with the evidence of his arousal.

A faint smile graced Cassarah's full lips. She saw no reason to argue with Martin, who may not even remember much of this night, with how much he had. Instead of ruining the fun mood, she played along, and lead the way right back to the washroom with a sexy sashay in her step. Even in her pregnant condition, Cassarah's sense of balanced atop those high heels was impeccable, and drew attention how her wide hips could shake when she felt like garnering even more attention than usual. There was no shortage of eye-candy for Martin to indulge in, so it was all the more tragic the two arrived at the washroom in short order, slipping inside once the coast was clear. In that room, where she had 'entertained' Antionio just hours prior, Cassarah climbed into one of the unoccupied stalls and readied herself. She reached behind her back, unhooked the many places where her weighty bra was fastened, and let it fall off of her body, to be retrieved from out under the fabric of her dress. Cassarah waved the lacy garment towards Martin, taunting him with it's size...and how damp it was to the touch. It had been the only thing keeping her dress completely dry, for at a number of months into her pregnancy...Cassarah had started to produce milk. Martin would get all the confirmation of such when Cassarah yanked down her low-cut dress, and unveiled her nipples, inverted, but weeping sweet cream all the same. A treat to accompany the 'main dish' that was plunging himself between her legs.

"Take me, right now. Do well...and there's some milk in it for you."

For all his confidence and charisma has served Martin thus far- the hardiest of men can hardly claim to take such stimuli in stride. The door to the stall clicks shut, the simple bolt slid into place- and Martin beholds sin itself. Stunned into silence, her junior drinks in the view for a moment- his fingers clenching at his sides, as his mouth goes dry.

"You make.. one hell of an enticing offer, Cass." Martin murmurs, finally stepping up. His trousers bare the brunt of his arousal, forced to stretch around the firm shape of his swollen girth- one already teased into prime firmness by their grinding beforehand. He's not all out of tricks though- as he steps in close, and both his hands slide onto her exposed chest- his calloused fingers hefting their jiggling weight, as his thumbs press into the inverted mounds at each peak. He was brave enough to explore them briefly at the table, but this groping is far more intentional, as he slowly squeezes her bust between his fingers, those digits catching streams of warm cream that dribble down her front.

".. Gods, that's just sinful.." Martin mutters, one hand sliding away from her bounty to slide down to her hips. Shifting the hem of her dress, lifting it up over her waist to expose her thighs- clearing the way, as he slowly grinds his crotch against her inner thigh- the tented shape of his shaft pressing against his bulging zipper- barely constrained by his clothing at this stage. He exhales sharply, one hand kneading her chest, the other pulling her undergarments to one side.

"I'm all yours, tonight, here and now.." Martin murmurs softly, his tone hungry, lips curling with a smile again.

As Martin had done the honors of further stripping and baring her body, Cassarah only thought it fair to return the favor, twisting in that cramped, humid space so that she could reach her partner's pants. That zipper had to be tugged down, and in doing so she unveiled the hot, throbbing manhood that had been itching to be sent her way. Cassarah noted that it was comparable to Antonio's, and couldn't have been more erect if Martin had tried. That was all for the better, for Cassarah was every bit as ready for Martin as he was for her. When she turned back away from him, presenting her luscious backside and the angle he could see the two of them meet in a carnal union, she made sure to spread those long legs of hers in anticipation for what was to come.

"And right now...I'm yours as well. Don't keep me waiting. You know how much I hate seeing my employees miss deadlines...", Cassarah purred right back, taking full advantage of the moment to taunt Martin with her fertile figure. If she wasn't sensually sweeping a free hand across her swollen stomach, she was bouncing those big breasts with a buck of her hips. Only briefly did Cassarah stop to think about how horny she was today. Certainly she had been feeling amorous more often, her sessions with Duke at home were only getting more frequent, but even she had to admit her recent behavior was on an entirely different level. However, such boring, troubling thoughts were ultimately shelved for future Cassarah to worry about. She was, after all, at this bar to have fun...

His firm hands quickly drift down to her hips, taking a hold of those luscious hand-holds, as he lines up with her from the back. The throbbing heat of his manhood probes between her thighs as Martin breathes out a low sigh of yearning, right onto the nape of her neck. It takes a few moments for his probing search to find it's mark, but once it does- the instant groan of satisfaction that accompanies Martin's first thrust bespeaks his anticipation. And that first thrust buries his swollen shaft deep within her folks, a slow, firm thrust that bucks Cassarah. He holds tight to her hips, and begins to rock in and out, using those handholds to buck into her soft posterior- his own firm, toned waist still clothed- the rustle of their garments being pulled and mussed by their lovemaking joining the loud claps of their bodies coming together.

Already, Cassarah can feel that he's not going to last awfully long. The grinding session on the dance floor clearly took it's toll, and his fat, turgid shaft is already starting to shudder and throb in a way that's become increasingly familiar to her. But Martin paces himself with long, hard thrusts- rocking their bodies in sync, low panting grunts escaping his lips each time their hips slap together. With each hitch of his stilted breathing, he hammers her hips again and again.

"M-mmnf, I do my best t-to be a... n-ngh, punctual- mff, w-worker, hah.." He mutters between the exertion of f*cking Cassarah from behind- nails digging into her flanks as he picks up the pace. The slow steady rhythm becomes a frenzied bucking- their mating becoming a rather loud affair of clapping cheeks, grunts and groans, and the shaking of the flimsy stall rattling and shaking whenever Cassarah is pressed against the walls.

Although it had only been a matter of hours, somehow, the stall felt even more cramped than it had been when Cassarah had first made use of it. Frequently, some part of her body, usually her belly, was bumping up against those flimsy walls, or the toilet that she and Martin were working around. Just why that happened to turn Cassarah on even more, utterly eluded the blonde, who was in no position to ponder such odd matters. Right now, all that was truly important was getting that wondrous sense of release, one that really only came when a virile man dumped their load into her belly.

So Cassarah did all she could to encourage just that. If she wasn't clamping down on Martin's shaft, squeezing it with her surprisingly strong inner muscles, she was guiding his hands to wrap around her wide hips...or her belly outright. They definitely weren't his kids in there, but she invited him to embrace her from behind like they were, and encouraged him to let his hands explore her swelling stomach and burgeoning breasts as much as he liked. In terms of the latter, squeezing too firmly would only force more milk out, and get his hands increasingly slick with that sweet-smelling cream. A small price to pay for a real good time.

But with neither party bothering with foreplay, Cassarah could tell that Martin wasn't going to last long. The telltale twitch of his member was as strong a sign as any, and Cassarah could tell that he was primed to blow. She made sure to nestle that co*ck of his as deep into her as their bodies would allow, just before the two crossed that all-important threshold in the men's room of that bar.

"Then, prove it! G-give it to me...right now. Don't hold anything back...!"

Her persistence is rewarded, as those hands claw and grip around the vast swell of her belly- using it to pull her further onto that trembling shaft. Martin groans with something between pain and release as she clamps down on him, the depths of her hips utterly filled with a shuddering, throbbing feeling as Martin holds back for as long as he is able. Backing up the inevitable eruption that's coming, for as long as he can. But- given their lack of time, and the abundance of temptation- it's always down to an inevitability.

"H-here, gah, i-it comes..!!" Much like the pregnant woman herself, Martin (incorrectly) assumed the complete safety of what he's about to do. After all- she's already this knocked up, she can't get more pregnant right? This is a rare opportunity. And as such, he buries his co*ck in her down to the hilt, arches his back, and blows his entire thick, heavy load right into her waiting womb. With a groaning, shuddering sigh Martin collapses against her back as for the second time in as many hours, Cassarah's womb is flooded with a fresh deluge of potent cum. Martin's hips spasm and twitch as org*sm wracks his body, his fingers clawing and gripping at her waist, her belly for support- as his system devotes all its energy to bliss and release. And a familiar burning heat in Cassarah's belly is quenched, as her aching ovaries, greedy and gorged on mens cum- greedily gulps down the fresh swimmers drowning her womb once again.

Finally the deluge comes to an end, and with a wet, sticky slurp- Martins half-hard co*ck slides out of her depths, with no knot to keep it in place. Still slick with the evidence of his climax, Martin chuckles against Cassarah's neck- still hugging her body from behind.

"Mngh.. hah.. so.. I could actually go for a drink now, I think.." He admits, chuckling between labored breaths.

Just as Martin finally loosed his load, Cassarah was left arching her back, the two colleagues-turned-momentary-lovers pressing against one another in that pivotal moment. Once again, Cassarah was especially aware of that sensation she had grown to love, to crave. That of being filled, of seed flowing into a womb she erroneously believed to be fully occupied. Had she not been so caught up in her own pleasure, she might have been more keen to the clues that something more was going on in that taut, swelling stomach of hers. After all, it couldn't have exactly been a coincidence that she felt that peculiar tingling every time that she was filled.

But once again, anything that wasn't related to her gratification in the present was thrust aside, a concern for another time, if at all. Cassarah had been thrust right into another toe-curling org*sm in the stall of a men's room of all places, and yet, she didn't regret a thing. The feeling that washed over her had been so wondrous, she had started to stroke her large stomach in small circles at some point without even realizing what she had been doing. Nevertheless, the two had finished as planned, and while it was probably for the best to rejoin the others outside, Cassarah prided herself on being a woman of her word. As soon she managed to clean up enough down below and turn around in that oh-so cramped space, she was presenting impressive breasts of hers towards Martin by hoisting them from below with her palms, inviting him to lean in to have a taste.

"As promised, Martin. Though I'm afraid I don't make that much, yet...", Cassarah remarked, knowing full well that Martin would really only get a trickle across the tongue. Unspoken, was the fact that it was remarkable that she was making milk at all. Most women didn't lactate until after they gave birth. She was productive, already, with a number of months left to go!

And for the first time in her extended pregnancy, Cassarah gets to enjoy the feeling of being milked. Martin leans in after a moments awed staring, and his hands cup one breast. More teasing than hoping to drink his fill, his lips settle over her inverted peaks and suck- as much hoping to pull the concealed bud within to prominence, as to drink from it. His teeth teasingly brush against the sensitive skin, and his tongue lashes the surface of her supple skin- cleaning up the spatters that have spilt down the flank of her breast. And not content to stop with one, he shifts to the other breast quickly- similarly suckling her shy nipples out to prominence, lapping up spilt milk, and lavishing her sensitive skin with attention.

Once he is finished, he pulls away from her breast with a distinct popping sound, and casually licks his fingers clean of the spilt milk from earlier, humming contentedly. "Those kiddos of yours are certainly going to drink well, by the time they're out've you." Martin observes with a dry chuckle, finally tending to his fly- tucking his shaft away within his clothes after giving it a quick wipe.

"Shall we head back, then? It must be just about time that we started heading home."

A muffled moan threatened to slip from Cassarah lips as she nursed Martin like she would a child. Yet another new experience, and one that was far more pleasurable than she had imagined. When Martin drank, she closed her eyes, basked in the feeling that steadily flowed through her body like ink in water, and went right back to rubbing her stomach with one of her hands. It all felt so good...right then and there Cassarah made a mental note to try it more than just this once. She would have to proposition one of her colleagues when the time was right, as wonderful as Duke could be, he hardly any interest in drinking from her like a pup.

"Aauh...r-right you are. Better get ready to go..."

But all good things come to an end, and eventually, the two were tugging clothes back into place so that they could be presentable enough to leave. For Martin, this took mere seconds, for Cassarah, she had a good deal more tugging to do, getting her bra back on, and her dress aligned with her body as to not be a walking citation waiting to happen. Martin was kind enough to wait, and eventually, they were both ready to head back. By then, it was clear that the peak hours had passed for the venue, things had gotten a great deal quieter, with less people and calmer music. Looking at their reserved table, everyone else appeared to be getting ready to head out, arranging taxis to provide transportation where their individual inebriation could not. And of them, Dylan seemed to be lingering the longest. While Antonio and Martin were helping the thoroughly-inebriated Marilyn tagger out of the bar, only Dylan remained. With far more room left in the booth, Cassarah volunteered to sit beside him, and ensure that he had a way to get back.

"Looks like it is just the two of us now, Dylan. It's been fun, but it is getting late. Do you have a ride? I drove myself, I could give you a lift..."

As the rest of the members of this little outing begin to split up and depart, Dylan lingers- starting with surprise at Cassarah's offer. He scratches the back of his neck, flushing slightly. Throughout the night he's been nearly the best at not outright gawking towards her blossoming body, now continuing to be the norm.

"I, ah, I don't. I'd appreciate that a lot Miss Wilhelm, it's a bit of a hassle trying to get a bus back to my place- it's a roundabout route." He tilts his head a bit quizzically, chuckling a bit bashfully. "I-I'll be honest, I'm surprised you're still driving yourself. Have you spoken with Mr Sakimodo about, ah.. working from home at all?" Even as he talks, he rises from his seat- happily moving to follow after Cassarah, letting her lead the way. With no duplicitous motive, certainly. Having scooped up his coat, he pulls it on to ward off any late night chills, as he paces just behind his coworker and superior.

Dylan, the least inebriated of Cassarah's colleagues, showed the greatest ability to continue a conversation, though it was clear he was still the same, shy clerk that she had run into in the mailroom that one day. His gaze kept drifting over towards her body, lingering particularly on her chest and stomach, only to be forcibly turned aside when he started to worry that he might get caught staring. Cassarah knew of course, as much as he tried to hide it, Dylan wasn't all that subtle, but she had no intention on calling him out on it. If anything, his interest was...somewhat nice. Like with Antonio and Martin, she couldn't say that coming off as attractive to others in her maternal condition was a downside. It was time all-too well with the simple fact that she could get horny at the drop of a hat, nowadays. There was no telling how long until that would stop being the case.

"Oh, I've talked to him about that, namely, how I want to keep working in person as long I possibly can. There's just too much lost with remote work.", Cassarah replied honestly, without turning around, much preferring to tackle her day-to-day with a hands-on approach. But omitted in her reply, was the generous benefits that she had arranged with Mr. Sakimodo, someone contingent that she still show up and let him 'enjoy the view' from time to time, so to speak. That had been the easiest deal of Cassarah's life, she was in no hurry to spend the bulk of her days until birth at home...as much as that'd give her plenty of time to spend with Duke. That, was a dangerous line of thought, one that was liable to get her thighs rubbing together, even as she exited the bar ahead of Dylan, moving towards the simple, if relatively new, sedan that she had driven to the venue that was parked nearby. As she unlocked the car with her keys fished out from her purse, she immediately demonstrated just how far she had to push the seat back, just to properly get behind the wheel. And with her seatbelt on, her chest bulged forth around the belt. Dylan had a front row seat to it all, with that spot right next to her in the front of the car.

"Let me know if you'd like me to turn on the air, or such. It was rather warm in there..."

Her tit* are not the only thing bulging in this car. Easy to include in that list are Dylan's eyes, that currently are trying not to bulge out of their sockets right now. And of course less obvious is his mounting reaction to such a display, fortunately concealed by her eyes being on the road, and his seatbelt being clicked into place. He wonders if it may have been wiser to sit in the back. Explaining that awkward situation would likely be far easier than the one currently mounting and rising within his own body. Too late he realizes his spiraling thoughts have lead to an awkward pause.

"A-actually, yeah that'd be real nice, it was pretty hot in there." He admits, putting a hand to his cheek- still flushed a merry red hue thanks to the stimulation at hand, and earlier in the night. Dylan clears his throat again. "S-so, ah.. what made you decide to pursue a surrogacy anyhow? Did the company sponsor it? I don't know that we have any initiatives in the maternity sector, though.." He trails off, scratching his chin. Talk of her belly inevitably leads his eyes back to that vast swell, and he swallows hard again. The same loop plays out- flushed cheeks, hands resting in his lap to disguise the mounting shape of his manhood, as he rips his eyes back to the road again. Focusing on anything but Cassarah.

Even as far back as Cassarah was in her seat, which appeared to be as far back as her seat would allow, her stomach still brushed against the bottom of her steering wheel, making it quite clear it wasn't some air-filled proper underneath that dress. Cassarah started with both hands on the wheel, chest squishing against her forearms pointed ahead, but soon, a free hands drifted downward to give that stomach a rub. It wasn't all that unnatural, not when Dylan had made it the subject within the car.

"To be honest, it was...somewhat last-minute....", Cassarah began, recalling how certain she had been that there was no way that she could have gotten pregnant from a dog, of all things. The kernel of truth in that lie, was the simple fact that she had come up with that plausible explanation just a day prior to her revealing it to her supervisor. By then, people were already starting to suspect something was up, with how much she had grown in such a short amount of time. Even now, Cassarah was a lot bigger than she thought she'd be, which effectively dismantled any ideas of her pregnancy being a small litter. The specifics of her condition was something that needed answers, and yet, finding out was something Cassarah continued to uncharacteristically put off all the same. The moment she got an ultrasound was the moment she was going to have to explain to a doctor why her children had four legs. However, just having Duke's puppies had already become the least of Cassarah's concerns, even if she didn't know it yet.

"...but...I think it will be for a good cause. And to tell you the truth, I don't hate it, either. Being pregnant, I mean. You must think I'm strange, to almost enjoy growing, week after week..."

Flushing slightly, Dylan gently clears his throat when she mentions that. "I-.. I don't think so at all. I mean- well.." He trails off, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. ".. I'll never get to experience what you're experiencing, of course, but.." He fidgets with his hands for a moment- then glances back to Cassarah again, smiling. "Well- you seem happy. Happier, I guess.. so, I don't find it hard to believe." Dylan says softly, his tone tender.

He leans back in his seat, turning his gaze back towards the road. Starting to give directions to Cassarah as they drive towards his home. During the drive, much the same as always- there are frequent moments where his gaze wanders towards the ample garden to view- and seldom do his hands move anywhere away from his lap. The drive is beautiful- the night-time city is in full effect, bars are beginning to empty out their patrons- as the procession of the cities nightlife begin making their way home, much the same as Cassarah and Dylan. The downside of such a change is that the roads are becoming more congested. The downtown area, near the apartments where Dylan lives- are quite busy with cars. And, as they make their way back towards the heart of downtown- there arises a problem. The cars are backed up in a jam. The going gets slow, as it seems like cars are having to navigate through a police stop.

Dylan looks apologetic. "Sorry, they sometimes put these things out at the end of the week.."

There was a faint smile on Cassarah's lips, as she drove with Dylan in the passenger seat. It was a look that was rarely seen at work, one that was almost...playful? Cassarah had to keep her eyes on the road most of the time, but seeing Dylan's reaction from her periphery was all the convincing the blonde needed to tease the poor boy a little more. Although he was just as much a subordinate to her as Antonio and Martin were, there was a distinctly different dynamic at play with the self-conscious Dylan. That much had been see with how she had conducted herself around them in private, like if they were on equal ground. Here, however, Cassarah could amuse herself by throwing her weight around...sometimes in the literal sense.

"Mhmh...this is a traffic jam, alright. Perhaps GPS could give us an alternate route to take...?", Cassarah grunted, taking a moment to stretch from the cramped confines of her seat, She stuck out her incredible chest, making it appear that much larger, and it predictably wobbled within the confines of her dress and bra. No sooner had she finished, a fair hand was back to sweeping across her firm, growing belly, which the dress did little to downplay. As Cassarah did her best to not make it obvious that she was staring at Dylan as much as he had been gazing towards her, she merged out of traffic to head down a side path that was looking to be quite the detour, but shaping up to be about as fast as the direct route, anyway. It was for that reason there didn't appear to be that many drivers going down that way.

"Even if we get there at the same time, this just feels better than stewing here with my foot on the brake. Now then, you were saying that I look...happier? Happier...and what else...?"

The effect of Cassarah throwing her weight around certainly is magnified on Dylan, a young man who definitely doesn't see her overtures for what they are- and is quite trapped in the preconceptions of a subordinate and superior. His eyes cannot help but follow every motion of her hands, especially when she makes effort to draw attention to her own body- thoroughly dismissing any worry that he might spy her eyeing him in turn. The slender younger man balls up in his seat, hands firmly pressed in his lap- and even through the effort done to conceal it, her eager eyes can certainly spy the inevitable swelling shape of his shaft, gently filling and pressing out the leg of his slacks.

He is caught off-guard by the question, stammering for a moment. "Happier- and.. and.." He hesitates, flushing. "Ah- well, more.. free? You seemed like it was.. e-easier to chat to people. Even in your- well, condition.. you're definitely starting to fill out, right?" He awkwardly chuckles, looking down at her swollen belly with a dry gulp. Another shuffle of his hips so he can better hide that swollen erection with his slender thighs.

".. I mean, ah.. you still don't know how many you're carrying, right? How many, um.. how many months in are you?" A trickle, a sliver of that impossible interest slips through the cracks- as Dylan's cheeks flush hotter, whenever the topic of her belly comes up.

It was a good thing that Dylan's gaze was mostly centered on Cassarah's belly, or he might have picked up on the way her fair smile had widened with his innocent question. Innocuous as it might have been, it conveyed his vested interest, and just like with Mr. Sakimodo, that was more than enough to tell Cassarah that she had a great deal of sway with this man. Sway that she was fully willing to capitalize on for her own amusem*nt and satisfaction...not that it'd be entirely one-sided.

"So...bigger, you're saying. Well, I certainly feel bigger. Seems I can notice a difference in just a single week.", Cassarah playfully hummed, once again drawing attention to her taut belly with how she swept her free hand over it. Had she not needed the other to stay on the steering wheel, she had considered cradling it in her arms, doing all that she could to accentuate and exaggerate it's already impressive size. If she had only been expecting one baby, she'd have been nearly full term, or at least well into the third trimester. The truth was that she was but a fraction of that, and still had several months of growing left to do. That was a fact that she delighted in sharing with Dylan, as the road ahead became quieter and quieter, a drastic departure from that terrible traffic jam.

"Quite impressive for only being...oh, about three and a half months along. Seems I will be getting much larger still, before this is all over. Can you imagine...?"

"Th- three months?!" Dylan cannot stop the exclamation from erupting from his lips. He gawks at her blatantly now. "What- how-.." Utterly flabbergasted is a scant way to describe the shock, worry, and awe that flushes his face. And, less subtly than he'd hope- abject arousal. His palms are practically grinding down into his lap to try hold down the fat tent forming down below. With heat in his face and a shocked, awed look in his eyes, he stammers to a stop.

".. How- how many are you carrying? Do you know yet? That seems like.. like.. like it'd be dozens of kids, or something.." Dylan says much slower, his eyes drinking her in- all of her. Blatantly ogling her massive chest, thickened hips- and of course her monstrously swollen belly. His fingers lace together in his lap again, fidgeting as Dylan sweats in his seat- seeming to realize he's very much spoken further than he should on the matter.

"Not that I- ah, know much about- about that sort of.. thing.." An awkward excuse tumbles from his lips a moment later. More incriminating than saying nothing.

"Is that so? I thought you were. I mean, it I thought it was pretty special. To be so large, so quickly, not yet knowing just how many I'm carrying for certain. For all I know, it might just be dozens...", Cassarah casually hummed, knowing full well that she had Dylan captivated at this point. With far, far less traffic, Cassarah started to drive a little slower, savoring her time with Dylan in the car. It looked like he was tempted nearly to the point of drooling, which prompted a peculiar thrill within Cassarah. There had been a time where she had been indifferent at best to the interest of men. But right now, when it pertained to the pregnancy she had never planned to have, she was so very...delighted to see that there were those that could appreciate her new look.

Happy to push Dylan's buttons even more, while he was more or less a captive audience, Cassarah glanced over towards him out of the corner of her eye, pretending to be entirely focused on the road ahead. While she moved to place both hands on the wheel, she continued from where she had begin, in what she beleived was guaranteed to leave Dylan a pants-splitting mess. She had already played around with two of her subordinates, today. Why not find a place to pull over and make it three...?

"Would you like to feel it? My belly, that is. They're all too small to kick, but it's very much real..."

Those words have the intended effect and more. She watches in real time as Dylan takes a moment, then another to even process her offer. Already rocked and hardened by the prospect of there being dozens swelling within her stomach, her offer strikes him like a blow. His eyes widen, he blushes down to his neckline, and flagrantly, blatantly stares at the swell of stomach she's presenting to him. While he may not be drooling up above, the faint salty scent that the AC doesn't quite hide, indicates another place he must be drooling. In fact, like music to her ears- Cassarah hears the faint ping and pop of clothes fibers snapping under intense strain. A sound she's grown accustomed to as she's grown so quickly, but this time it's not from her. It's from the repressed bulk of Dylan's fully engorged co*ck, fighting his way to almost burst from his trousers from her provocation.

"T-.. touch, I, wow.. ah.. um." Stammering to a stop, he looks up at her, then back to her belly, as if picturing what the vast swell might look like, once it begins lurching with all the overactive young within. ".. I-.. yes. I'd be happy to, if you d-don't mind.. right.. right now? When you're driving?" He hesitates, his hands lifting slowly out of his lap- and only further exposing his turgid shafts obscene shape filling out the thigh of his slacks, the trim material doing absolutely nothing to conceal his salty, thick, burgeoning arousal- undoubtedly potent and virile by just the look and the smell.
Cassarah

Cassarah looked to confirm Dylan's question, not at all opposed to the thought of having his hands upon her body, even while she was keeping her eyes on the road ahead. But before she parted those full lips to speak, the thought occurred to her...why should it be done while she was otherwise preoccupied? Just by allowing that thought to cross her mind, Cassarah reached over towards to grip the transmission, and began to pull over to the side of the road. Thanks to having taken a less-traveled side-street detour, there wasn't anyone to be seen, around at this late hour...not that she was entirely certain that would have stopped her. In any case, within a minute, her car would be brought to a stop, safely parked out of the way of the road proper. Then, Cassarah gave Dylan her full attention.

"Ah, of course. Not while I'm driving. Here. Now you can feel...all you like. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Her fresh quarry gulps as she turns to give him his full attention- watching the way her blatantly shown off cleavage wobbles and shakes when she turns to him. She can see his adams apple bob, his slender body warm with the flush spreading down to his collarbone, as his hips are absolutely dominated by the throbbing fat shape of his erection. The scent becomes more apparent in this claustrophobic space now that the AC is off, as her young colleague begins rubbing his hands together, ostensibly to warm them up.

"Well- here goes. Uh, let me know if it's uncomfortable at all.." He murmurs softly, and he extends his hands. Those delicate fingers rest on her belly, and she can see Dylan's breath hitch in his throat. He is in love. His hands move in slow, massaging circles. Starting out gentle, but gradually getting more confident, as his expert fingers begin to massage her obscene stomach through the fabric of her dress. Flushing through his neck, Dylan looks up at Cassarah. "It's, hah.. quite taut. Uh.. wow. Not m-much give at all.. you must be growing r-really fast.." He mumbles, in a bit of a daze- as his fingers roam the surface of her belly in wide, affectionate strokes.

What had started solely as an attempt to charm Dylan had come with some benefits. Cassarah let out a muted huff when Dylan's hands explored her swollen belly, it far more sensitive and prone to pleasure than she had expected. It took all of several moments of her impromptu massage before she was unlatching her seatbelt and moving it out of the way. There wasn't much room of all for a woman of her size to turn around in the driver's seat, but she oriented herself a little big more towards her partner in the passenger chair, if only to further aid his exploring hands. Cassarah's dress might have been flowing and loose, but the same could not be said of her belly. Taut, rounded, and growing by the day.

"Mhm, seems that way, doesn't it, Dylan. I'm so big, and yet, it just keeps growing...", Cassarah murmured, her tone seductive and breathy. Dylan was trying his best to maintain some level of professional courtesy, but the longer he had his hands upon her, the less Cassarah felt like waiting for Dylan to make a move. Just as he was laying his palms on the sides of her vast stomach, Cassarah gripped his arms by the wrists...and guided them up towards her breasts. Where her belly was firm, those huge, luscious breasts were anything but. Soft to the point of practically enveloping his hands, Cassarah's dazzling smile widened when she played her little trick.

"Oh! Well...how about I really show you how far I've come...in the back seat...?"

Dylan stutters, staring at Cassarah with wide eyes as she so blatantly makes her move. His hands instinctively squeeze down as he tenses up, pressing and burying themselves in ample titflesh. He stares up at Cassarah, not finding words at last, as she lets him drink her in fully. And slowly, the fear and confusion melts down into awe, trepidation, and lust.

".. Okay." He squeaks gently, his breathing becoming immediately a bit more laboured, as the first few plinks of raindrops begin to hit the roof of the car. He unfastens his seatbelt, and looks to Cassarah nervously, eagerly, like a young puppy out of his depth. "Ah.. can you.. f-fit, back there..?" He asks tentatively, his words dripping with the amount of lust those words infuse in him. And with him unfastened from his belt, she has a completely unobstructed view of his engorged tool- the scent of him, the sheer size of the throbbing co*ck struggling to burst free from his trousers- that poor zipper already looking worse for wear from the constant pressing, buckling and shifting around that co*ck.

Cassarah's response was quick, to the point, and as playful as ever. "Not sure. Guess we'll find out, won't we, Dylan? I'll have to get real close..."

With that, Cassarah opened her side of he door to move to the back seat, stopping only to push up the driver seat she had set all the way back, jut to drive. In that time, she could feel the first drops of rain land upon her bare shoulders, exposed cleavage, and hair. The frequency was swiftly increasing, making it clear that the initial drizzle was becoming rain proper. It only hurried her efforts to get back into the back end of her car. There, it was very cramped. Cassarah's luxury car was no minivan, it was a sedan meant to accommodate four. Just trying to hoist her pregnant figure into place was something of a struggle, and she was left grateful she didn't need to completely undress to have a bit of fun with Dylan. All that was necessary...was that she was to be on top, and so, she patted the back seat, giving her shy subordinate his latest order.

"Drop you pants and lie down back here. I'll take care of the rest..."

And, just as he has for all her orders prior- fixing up server crashes, replacing broken equipment, Dylan is quick to do as she asks. "Y-yes, miss." He says, before really thinking about it- and only flushing further when he realises. With the rain soaking his shirt somewhat, she gets her first peek at her juniors frame beneath his work shirt- pale skin, slender and lithe. Not very muscular- thin from a life of working in servers, but he clearly watches his weight.

All this contrast just makes it more awe-inspiring, when as he tugs down his trousers- Cassarah gets her first look at the monster he's keeping. And it lives up to the hints she's seen thus far. Quite alike to her her bust is absolutely massive compared to her peers- it appears that Dylan, for all his meekness, is packing like a behemoth. That co*ck is a foot and change long, thick like Cassarah's forearm, throbbing and pulsing with every heartbeat. Two overly productive balls are packed to the brim with virile swimmers, leaving them engorged and fat beneath his obscene f*ckpole. And the consequences of her teasing make themselves quite known, as his shaft is lathered in a glaze of salty pre-cum all up and down that messy shaft. Slowly, embarrassed and flustered after removing his shirt and trousers, the naked young man lies back in Cassarah's back seat- staring at her nervously, hands utterly unable to hide the obscene co*ck now throbbing and tall.

".. I-.. I'm.. sorry if it's t-.. too l-large, um.." He fidgets nervously, gulping as his gaze returns to Cassarah, watching her enter the car- any further words dying on his lips at the sheer sight of her.

With everything that Cassarah had seen by this point, she hadn't imagined there was anything Dylan could do to really surprise her. She was proven wrong in the back seat of her own car when she playfully helped her subordinate tug down his pants, and unveil what he had been smuggling within his trousers the entire time. Teased and aroused by her presence, it was without question that Dylan was in the mood. But if there had been any doubt of that, it had disappeared when Cassarah spied the mast that sprung from his groin, tall, thick...and throbbing.

"I...ah...well. Not too large, but certainly unexpected...I think I can make do...", Cassarah purred, once the initial shock had worn off. He certainly was among the largest, if not the largest of her would-be partners, but something just told the blonde that everything would work out. She continued as planned, crawling deeper into the back of the car, and across Dylan's prone body, her vast middle inevitably colliding with his co*ck and pushing it back against his own stomach. Just from that brief moment of contact, she could feel the heat radiating off that organ, and the smell of sex in the car started to get Cassarah's head spinning with desire. There was no way she was going to turn back now, not without at least trying...

"I'll be on top. So you can feel this belly of mine all you like..."

Her invitation is met with two very palpable reactions- first, she sees his throat bob with a visible gulp, as his hands carefully reach forward to, frankly, grope her swollen belly. The other reaction she feels- as his swollen f*ckpole throbs and spasms under her belly- leaving a glistening lather of his pre glistening just below her navel.

"I certainly have no objections.." Dylan says softly, cheeks flushing as he simply drinks in the sight of Cassarah mounting him. Wide blue eyes studying every little motion, bounce and sway, as his hands press firmly into her swell. This is not the gentle probing he was doing while she drove- his hands press into the taut orb, sloshing it and feeling how it moves. Each motion causing his slender fingers to dance across the sensitive underside of her belly, kneading the firm flesh.

"It's.. so much tauter than I thought it'd be.. but you don't have any stretch marks. It's like you were born to be pregnant.." Dylan mutters distractedly, before his cheeks once again bloom with heat as he processes his own words, eyes wandering involuntarily to what he can see of her hips, and of course her swollen rack. He gulps again, the thick swell of his girthy co*ck filling the car with the scent of sex and masculine musk, as it rises and presses against Cassarah insistently- potent, heavy cum-factories bloated underneath that potent co*ck, ready to breed her even more.

"Never thought I was 'mother' material, before, but feeling as I do, looking as I do...you might be right...", Cassarah hummed, taking in the sight of her own, fertile figure, and how it obscured so much of Dylan's body beneath her with how large it had gotten in such a relatively short amount of time. She might have been proud of her chest size before, but enlarged by pregnancy and her mounting milk production, 'the girls' were heftier than they had ever been, and stuck out a good deal in front of her. So it was all the more incredible that her belly had swollen right past those and had become a shelf for those tit* of hers to rest upon. Already, Cassarah was losing the fight to wrap her arms around her own stomach, her navel was inching out of reach of her fingertips by the day. And yet, just as Dylan had stated, there wasn't a blemish or stretch mark to be found, anything to suggest that her body wasn't up to the incredible burden of an incredible pregnancy.

And it was very much a pregnancy. The weight that bore down on Dylan was proof enough of that. Not air, not water, but a womb stuffed with life, growing larger still by the day. It wasn't so heavy, though, that Cassarah couldn't hoist herself up, and guide that great co*ck of Dylan's right between her legs where it belonged. Her own lust was betrayed in this moment. There was no shortage of lubrication to help guide that behemoth further and further inward.

"Nngh! Y-yes...that's what I need...!"

Dylan groans when she starts her descent- and already Cassarah can feel the telltale convulsions of a man fighting back against the brink. Her slit stretches to accommodate that massive shaft, filling and sealing every inch of her baby making canal. Her hips are filled with an impossible warmth, a carnal heat that radiates off his co*ck- as their combined lubrication make the matter of penetration possible.

"G-god, I-I cannnt.. h-hold.." Dylan gasps. His hands have grown bolder, traveling up the slope of her belly to give her tit* a thorough kneading- and as her hips drop down on his co*ck, he squeezes her milk-laden jugs tightly, moaning helplessly in the process.

The car is growing foggy, as the combined warmth of their intimacy, the lust in the air, all works to obscure the lurid display happening within. A fortunate thing, as the headlamps of a passing car briefly flash across the window- casting the obscene silhouette of their lovemaking into stark contrast against the foggy glass.

On this road-less-taken, there were few other cars to speak of. Cassarah had pulled off towards the shoulder of the road and had not bothered to keep her hazard lights on, allowing what cars that did come by pass by all too quickly. But even in those brief moments of driving by, it would be hard to not realize what was going on in this particular vehicle, with it's windows fogged up, and the whole thing rocking on it's suspension. Cassarah hadn't felt like holding back, just because Dylan appeared to be new at this whole thing. She had seen the size of his member, and had decided to claim it for herself. No sooner had she locked it in place, where it was ramming the entrance to her womb, did she begin bucking her hips and really make the car shake.

All the while, Dylan was doing all that he could to desperately hold on, to last just a minute, or a few, longer. But with the largest, milkiest, most pregnant woman straddling him, that was not a fight that he was going to win. Doubly so when Cassarah clamped down on that co*ck that filled her so utterly, and squeezed it as if trying to milk it like he was trying to milk her. It was like she wanted every drop of seed he had to spare...and wasn't about to take no for an answer!

"You're close...aren't you? That's alright...finish inside. I'm...nnh...already pregnant, you know! So...do it!"

If nothing else, Cassarah cannot say he's an inattentive employee. Always eager to do as instructed. And the moment she gives her permission, Dylan's back arches- a gasp forced from his lips as her pregnant belly slaps the breath out of him.

She's dealt with the rapid-fire deluges from Duke. And the steady, rich eruptions into her fertile womb from Sen, Antonio and Martin had their own distinct feelings. But this is a different sensation altogether. As those backed-up nuts throb and bulge with the effort of pumping, Cassarah feels Dylan's co*ck beginning to palpably bulge in her tightly crammed slit- thickening and stretching her further as his cumvein inflates with the effort of pushing virile baby-batter through the tight, tense mass of his co*ck. But the promise of that taxing, heavy process is its own reward. Dylan grabs her thighs, bucking up into her as his back arches again- a howling groan escaping him, as his climax explodes into her belly with palpable force. Pump, after pump, after pump of impossibly thick cum are forced through her cervix- having nowhere to go but into her bulging belly. The erupting org*sm lasts for almost a full minute of stomach-pumping glory, her skin beginning to gurgle and creak as her belly visible swells- the underside sagging with the liquid contents of his sloshing cum. And of course the bulk of that swarming mass of virile swimmers descend on the deepest, most vulnerable place in her womb. Swamping, swallowing, drowning her overtaxed ovaries with a tube-stuffing deluge of Dylan's determined seed. Bulging with the pressure from his liquid cargo, pleasure lances out from her womb as she feels her eggs fertilized again, and again, and again...
.. A whole twenty-two times. And even if Cassarah doesn't know it herself- her belly, her body certainly does.

Cassarah ended up having to brace herself when the all-important moment had finally arrived, as she was liable to teeter off to the side, otherwise. With one hand gripping the back seat, and another the back end of the passenger-side chair, the blonde held herself steady as she was subject to what had to have been the most incredible climax she had gotten out of a male, human or otherwise, yet. Dylan, having waiting long for something like this, fired off a veritable torrent of cum within Cassarah. And with his manhood so large, the distance between the twitching head of his shaft, and the entrance to Cassarah's womb was nearly zero. So much spunk surged into Cassarah's brood-bearing womb to be put to good use, sloshing and churning, and flowing towards fresh eggs to spear and claim. Cassarah might not have known it, but her womb was only getting better and better at the task of creating -and holding- more life. In those brief, few minutes, Cassarah had become a mother to nearly another two dozen future kids. Twenty two...enough to make two soccer teams' worth, all in one go!

The shock to her senses left Cassarah reeling, and she dared not move. So, she ended up remaining right atop Dylan and his sputtering manhood, right up until the point the flow had finally begun to taper off, and his co*ck began to shrink. By then, the damage was more than done, and Cassarah was only just recovering from her satisfied, post-coitus haze, one defined by her wantonly rubbing her belly and kneading her engorged breasts atop Dylan.

"Ah...you really went all out. Good boy. Mhm...might have to revisit this, sometime. For now...aah...probably should go back to getting you home...haah..."

As the last sputters and dregs of his erupting climax are dumped in her belly, the windows thick with fog- and the car simmering with heat from their sweaty bodies, Dylan draws in a shuddering, gasping breath.

"That's.. god, hhah.. I-I don't think I can m-move.." He moans, hips twitching as the aftershock spasms of his mighty eruption still fill her insides with the spasming shudders coursing through his slowly-sagging f*ckmeat. Thoroughly spent by now, his co*ck finally begins to calm down- though never softening fully, by virtue of the fact that Dylan looks just as happy to be staring at Cassarah groping herself than anything else. Hungry eyes watching her hands rove, as his own fingers knead at the spots she can't reach- the extremely sensitive skin of her navel and belly button. Thumbs rubbing and exploring for her, as he basks in the rich afterglow of his climax.

"That's quite alright. You can relax back there...at least until I get you home.", Cassarah chuckled, a fair smile gracing her lips when she regained some sense of coherency. She had been thrust into her own mind-numbing, toe-curling climax, just by the feeling of being filled so much. It was dawning on Cassarah that she might very well be some sort of deviant, getting off at raw sex...with an increasing number of men in her life. But as that had yet to bring her anything but fortune as of late, it wasn't something that weighed upon Cassarah all that heavily. What did weigh upon her, was that incredible belly, swollen and grand. She had to shuffle and waddle her way to the back seat, once had more or less gotten her dress back in place when she was on her two feet outside the car. It was very fortunate that no one happened to pass by as she got changed, allowing her to stuff herself back behind the driver's seat without issue.

...Beyond the dawning realization that she was going to have to make some arrangements for transportation in the near future. It was getting harder and harder for the outlandishly pregnant blonde to get behind the steering wheel, let alone reach it!

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

The Westgate leisure center is booming this time of year. School holidays are out, and dozens of parents bring their kids out to the pool to let loose some energy. The laughter, cries and splashes of very active children fill the pools, as a number of shaded tables and loungers are occupied by families trying to chat, read, or take a nap. All in all it’s a fairly ordinary holiday- sunlight keeps the air toasty and hot, while the cool waters of the pool offset it.

A bored, sleepy lifeguard struggles not to fall asleep at his post, watching the kids swim- though his gaze much more frequently lingers to the non-small number of girls lounging in the benches and stretchers. The one upside to sitting in sweltering heat looking after children. Though the guard has absolutely no idea how much luckier his day is about to become.

The days were supposed to be getting cooler, but when an unseasonable heat wave passed by in the region, many flocked to pools to cool off on a warm afternoon. In that regard, Cassarah was no different. But in so many other ways, Ms. Wilhelm could not have been less like the other women at the pool if she tried. Emerging from the back of a private taxi, the buxom blonde slowly stepped out right in front of the entrance to the community pool, a pushed a pair of trendy sunglasses into place across her nose. At first blush, it appeared as if she had brought with her a great, navy-blue beach ball, one of a truly impressive size. But that 'beach ball' began to sway with her ponderous steps towards the pool's lounging area, for it was no pool prop...but a genuine part of her that had only grown larger since the day of the club outing.

Cassarah was very much still pregnant, more so now than ever. A grand belly, one that was well beyond anything that could still be passed off as normal, curved out from her frame to the tune of a number of feet, both in front of her and towards the sides. That great, maternal mound was one that left Cassarah looking like she could drop sextuplets at any moment, swelling far beyond Cassarah's ability to reach around. Feeling her navel was a distant memory, even as it, and the rest of her stomach was tightly wrapped in the stretchy material of her one-piece swimsuit. Further testing her swimwear's integrity to the extreme, were -easily- the largest breasts anyone here had ever seen. Large, luscious, head-dwarfing knockers, which jiggled and jostled with Cassarah's every step towards the pool. There had been sounds of conversations and children frolicking before Cassarah made her appearance. By the time the proud businesswoman was claiming a lounge chair for herself, much of that had been replaced with quiet stares.

If looks and stares left pricks on the skin, Cassarah’s belly and tit* would be afire with them. Every man and woman, plus a fair number of children are unsubtly watching the vastly pregnant woman sway over to a lounge chair. A mixture of open lust, curiosity, and jealousy simmering in the air as the chatter slowly starts to resume. But it’s clear the air around the pools has been irreversibly altered.

Chatter abounds, as the pool continues to splash and children play- when they’re not sneaking glances at Cassarah’s maternal glory. But her relaxation is interrupted by an innocent, curious voice.

“Wow, you must have eaten a whooole thanksgiving dinner by yourself!” The speaker leans around the side of her belly to stare at the lounging woman with a lopsided smile. The kid has fuzzy hair, wearing just a pair of swimming trunks- his youthful frame slender, aside from some cute baby-fat. His eyes sparkle with interest as he reaches out to touch her belly- giggling as he pokes it. “No, a big rock! It’s so hard!” The kid giggles again.

Cassarah had known full well that she was going to get stares, her size was not lost upon her. It was something she gazed upon, from her own perspective, every moment of every day, and every morning was now marked by a brief few minutes of seeing just how far she had come in the mirror. It was by virtue of that very habit that Cassarah had started to wonder if it would be worth it to risk visiting a doctor soon. She was certain that she was carrying Duke's litter, only, that it was turning out to be a much bigger one than she had imagined. In that regard, Cassarah was only partially correct.

Nevertheless, she had deigned to come to the pool to clear her mind and refresh the body. That was what she told herself, anyway. In truth, whether she wanted to admit it or not, a part of her was starting to like the attention that she was getting, the effect she had on others, be it man or woman. Her appearance at the public pool was definitely no outlier. She could just feel how gazes were locked on her swelling belly, or her breasts practically bulging out of her swimsuit. It seemed it the one she had picked out was undersized, after all.

But just as Cassarah had begun to recline on that lounge chair, and gulp down one of those refreshingly sweet drinks she was getting for free at work as of late, Cassarah felt the odd sensation of a small, small pair of hands against her belly, forcing her to raise her sunglasses, crane her neck, and peer around her mountainous middle. The bold perpetrator...was a small boy. Too young to know any better, Cassarah's initial reaction was to peer around for his mother, which she assumed would be rushing to her location and apologizing at any moment. When that failed to occur, the boy's parents absent or distracted, she realized she had an unsupervised brat on her hands. Her lips curled in a faint smile.

"Oh, it's not a rock...it's a watermelon. Swallowed one whole, and it's still growing! You can feel, if you like..."

The little boy’s eyes go very wide, and his mouth gapes. “Oh my gosh! But it’s so big! How long has it been growing for?? When are you gonna let it out?” The spitfire, stumbling questions are quick to erupt from the child’s mouth in a babble, as he excitedly splays his fingers and pats her massive tummy- giggling at the meaty, firm sounds that emerge from the weighty orb.

Other parents and characters around the pool watch the interactions of course- mutters and whispers spreading all over again. But no one comes forward to claim the child so innocently smiling at Cassarah, still patting and exploring that vast surface of tan flesh.

“Is that why you’re here at the pool? To water the watermelon??” More eager questions tumble out as the black-haired boy turns back to looking at Cassarah again excitedly. “Can I help?”

Cassarah continued to put up with the boy's childish prodding, it did little good to get annoyed at such a young, innocent kid when his parents were likely nearby. But the longer he kept poking and rubbing her tremendous belly, the more Cassarah was left wondering just what was taking his mother or father so long. She played nice and played along, humoring the boy and tolerating his antics for as long as she still had her sweet, fruity drink.

"You're a smart one. Yes, that's exactly why I'm here. To give it lots of water and sunshine.", Cassarah began, proudly patting her incredible stomach, and gesturing to the sun overhead. But as another gulp from her cup marked the last of her drink, Cassarah's willingness to stay just where she was began to ebb. Peering past that great shelf of a chest that jutted from her, she locked her gaze on the boy that was small enough to hide within the blind spots formed by her bust and belly when she was standing upright. It was at that moment, a deviant thought crossed her mind, and her body was flush with a kind of warmth that was quite different from that of the midday sun. Her tongue was soon running across her lips.

"You want to help, huh? I, I know a special way that you can help, works way better than just getting in the water. But...its a secret. We can't tell anybody! We're gonna have to find a place where people can't see..."

The young boy looks at her with wide eyes, and grins. "Oh, oh! Ah, um.. a place people cant see.." He ponders, putting his thumb to his lips as he thinks. The whispers only continue, and Cassarah is subjected to the constant leers and glares of the crowds around the pool. Appreciatively watching any time she adjusts her swimsuit, or shifts the way she's sitting. From behind the anonymity of sunglasses- she can catch the lustful leers of men and a few women, accompanying similar jealous stares from their partners.

The boy perks up. "I know a place! I know one! I can show you where!" The boy says eagerly, as he reaches for one of Cassarah's hands. "Here, get up! I'll help!" Of course, the efforts of a scrawny child, less than ten years of age clearly, do little to nothing in the effort of making Cassarah, or her vast belly, bulge whatsoever.

Bratty one second, and downright precious the next, it was almost enough to make Cassarah feel guilty over the sort of things that were running across her mind at the moment. Almost. In contrast to the men and older boys in the area, this boy was pure, and she was intending to instill an awakening the likes he was never prepared for. But Cassarah's conscience couldn't win out against the raw, building desire that was welling up within her, so she ended up getting out of her seat as the boy 'helpfully' tugged on her hand. There wasn't a chance that he could make one of her size budge in the slightest, but she moved in time with him to play along, a smile plastered across her face.

"Oh? Please, do show me, I'll be right with you..." , Cassarah murmured, the mere act of sitting up -and then coming to a stand- sending her engorged bust wobbling and sloshing about within the confines of her one-piece swimsuit. The undersized swimwear was already digging into those vast udders of hers, the straps causing the abundant flesh to bulge forward, and out to the sides, towards her arms. Paired with how much fabric was taken by that implausibly large belly of hers, it was safe to say that the elasticity of the material she wore was the only factor that had allowed her to wear the navy-blue garment in the first place. When she began waddling toward the boy's secret spot, even her backside conveyed that irrefutable truth. Just as her chest bulged out front, some of the largest, most luscious cheeks peeked out from behind. Cassarah wasn't just filling out up front, after all.

"By the way, what's your name, boy? My name's Cassie..."

With true, inconsequential effort, he 'helps' pull Cassarah up to her feet. And the main attraction of the pool slips away from the view and murmurs of the pool body. The child leads her back behind the changing rooms, to a smaller off-shoot building behind a fence. He whirls back to Cassarah, grinning up at her.

"I'm Terry! Terry Taylor!" He answers happily, quickly crawling under a small gap in the fence. From the other side, he opens it up for her. "I used to play here all the time with Nick, but he doesn't swim here now." He explains- not awfully helpfully, before he opens up the door within that fenced off area. It opens without a lock- bypassing the fence seemed to be enough. Within, is the pump-room for the pools. A clean space, taken up half-way by a whirring, rumbling set of engines that fill the room with a steady hum. The other half of the room has a cabinet of tools, a desk with some scattered paperwork and pens, then a bench. The floors are smooth and slightly damp from humidity- the space within rather warm, without the aid of the wind to cool the room much. Terry skips happily into the room, looking around.

"Is here good, Cassie?" He asks, looking up at her, then down to her belly. "I think it's enough room for the watermelon.. if it can fit through the door!" He giggles.

"It can fit...for now. Maybe it won't one day, with your help.", Cassarah quipped, momentarily gazing upon the doorway to the pump room, before passing through. It was an entirely normal, standard doorway, but Terry's remark wasn't without merit. When Cassarah carefully navigated herself inside, she could see just how little extra space there was to her sides, around where her belly was at its widest. It was just another reminder of just how big 'Duke's litter' must have been, to get her to this point while still being so far from full term. Cassarah might have been joking with Terry, but even she knew that was something that could genuinely come to pass, at the rate she was going.

But once inside, the two had all the privacy she needed, and she turned her lustful gaze upon little Terry with little in the ways of subtlety. There was no need to disguise her twisted, sensual desires when she couldn't get caught, and she began to grope one side of her abundantly large chest with her free end. The other, rubbed her belly in small circles when she spoke to Terry on what the two of them were going to do. All the while, she playfully pushed her belly outward, gently bumping the boy with her belly stuffed with so much life.

"Here is real good, Terry. Now you can help me. See, water is fine, but there's a 'special juice' that works much more. And it has to be put in just the right spot...", Cassarah began, undoubtedly confusing the precocious boy with her cryptic phrasing. But what Cassarah lacked in detail, she made up in demonstration. It wasn't hard at all for Cassarah to push what little that covered her sex down below aside, exposing her womanhood to the open air...and to Terry. Hard to spot when she was standing upright, she made it very clear when she bent over, and presented her naked puss* towards the boy as an example.

"Here. Here is where it has to go. And do you know what makes that juice...? It's between your own legs..."

Terry blinks, co*cking his head at her explanation of things. He's been at the pools for a few hours by now, relaxing and swimming and playing. His new playmate is.. weird. But he can't look away from her either. He stares at her prodigious hips as she bends over to show herself off, slowly walking over to her in order to take a look. His cheeks flush faintly, even if he doesn't know why- one hand going to brush over his crotch, over what's being concealed by his blue swimming trunks.

"Uh.. I'm not supposed to talk about that, am I? It's a bad word.." Terry says hesitantly, chewing his lip as he stares, transfixed- at the tunnel of Cassarah's womanhood and all the display she is putting on for him. Feeling an involuntary heat beginning to well up from within him, he slowly nods his head. "How- um.. do I just.. go pee in it..?" He says, hesitantly, looking up at Cassarah again.

"That's why it has to be a secret! And no, it's not pee. Just trust Cassie.", Cassarah hummed, slowly wriggling her wide, wide hips to further entice the perplexed boy. Appealing to his most basest instincts, of which he was really only just acknowledging, Cassarah did all that she could to put Terry in a spot to perform his role. This included bending over, spreading her legs, and allowing her vast, vast belly dip between them. Above that, her hefty breasts swayed back and forth, weighed down by the milk that they contained. Cassarah hadn't bothered to milk herself before going to the pool today, and she could feel just how full they were, already. They were filling up faster by the week, a trend she didn't see ending, anytime soon.

"If you stick your thing in here, it'll not only feel really good, but it won't be pee that comes out...instead, it'll be that special juice I need. So please, come closer, I can't do this on my own...", Cassarah murmured, beckoning the boy over with an outstretched finger.

The young boy's eyes go wide, his cheeks flushing. But, Cassie needs his help! So with some reluctance, the young child begins to divest himself of his swimming trunks. When he does, his under-developed, childish co*ck is unveiled. Truly taboo to even be looking at such an innocent boy with lecherous eyes, his cute shaft pokes up in instinctive response to her provocation. The much shorter, much smaller boy carefully begins to line up with her from behind- that tiny co*ckhead poking and prodding her vast rear as he tries to find a way to press his shaft into her waiting slit.

"Ah.. i-it's slippery.. is it.. oh!" He says, finding the give of her slit- and pushing in eagerly, Terry gasps as his co*ck slides into her folds with sudden eagerness. Letting out a sound between a moan and a squeal. "It's damp! And feels weird..." He exclaims, cheeks flushing as his poor young co*ck bobs and throbs within her damp, lusty folds.

"Strange...but good, right? That's it...you're doing great. Just push it in as much as you can...", Cassarah huffed, her own, deviant arousal reaching a twisted high. Where Dylan was the largest partner the blonde had ever had, Terry was, without question the smallest. But that didn't discourage Cassarah any, who was all-too willing, and capable, of clamping down on that prepubescent co*ck, and squeezing it like she would for any mature adult. She had to lower herself some, bending at her knees to better allow Terry to get into place, but once she had, he was entering her proper...and she was doing all that she could to reciprocate the gesture. Meanwhile, she became acutely aware to the boy embracing her backside, her rear and hips so thick and wide compared to his youthful arm span, that he couldn't completely hook his hands around her waist. Cassarah nevertheless applauded the effort, and began to rock her body to milk this adorable boy of all the seed he could give her.

"Keep...going! Let Cassie make you feel really good...and you'll help me in no time!"

The childish Terry flushes and nods. "Oh- okay, I'll try..!" He mumbles, his childish fingers utterly failing to find any purchase on her fertile figure. They desperately grab at her hips, as in an uncoordinated, desperate series of thrusts- Terry tries to please his new playmate. Staring at all of her body bouncing, swaying, moving- he gulps as his cute little co*ck throbs within her folds. His motions become more energetic, primal, hungry with the encouraging words- as even without fully understanding what he's doing- his body begins to understand. The cute sack of baby batter begins to contract as his co*ck throbs happily, starting to already reach the limits of a virgins stamina.

"I- um, I f-feel weird Cassie! Is this- is this the helpful thing? What do I do?" He asks urgently, the lurid sound of Cassarah being f*cked by a child filling the room with a lurid, constant slapping sound. Echoing off the walls of the narrow room, only dampened from reaching the pool crowd by the hum of the engine fueling the pumps, disguising their debauchery for now.

"Just keep pushing it in...you're doing great, Terry! A little more...! Until then, just keep hugging me, and rubbing...", Cassarah panted, shivering with the desire that flowed through her body, from the top of her head and down to her toes. She was fully aware of how depraved she had to be, to seduce a innocent boy like this, but that forbidden fruit only made the act all the sweeter. She wanted to pamper this boy, to show him many things, and reward him for his hard work. If he had any taste for milk, Cassarah already had an idea as to how to go about that very thing. But before any of that could happen, she needed his seed within her, to claim him as his first, even when he didn't even really know what they were doing.

And so, sensing how close he was getting from his restless behavior and the twitching of his little shaft, Cassarah gripped the boy's shaft tightly, refusing any ideas of him pulling out. She was more than ready to take everything that he had to give her. There mere thought of claiming his virginity, along with whatever seed he could spare, had Cassarah suppressing an erotic moan.

Unfortunately, her play partner has no reason to suppress his own. Terry gasps, releasing an involuntary, groaning moan that erupts from him- just as another eruption occurs. His prepubescent, tiny co*ck throbs with aroused lust as she sinks into him and clamps down on his co*ck. That poor shaft starts to bulge with the fruits of his loins, as his nails drag down Cassarah's fat hips. His back arches as he forces his poor virgin co*ck as deep into her as it will go- and then, he goes limp against her back.

All the energy in his body is sapped as his co*ck begins to spurt, blowing his first ever load in a sticky creampie. His seed splatters the insides of her baby canal- dribbling down through her cervix to flow into her massively bloated belly. She feels the heat lancing through her skin, as Terry lies against her back- groaning gently. His co*ck beginning to soften, as his meager first load slowly but surely flows down- with the aid of gravity, into her productive ovaries. And she feels warmth flooding her belly- a good minute after his org*sm, as at last Terry's seed infiltrates, and begins to breed her.
.. And against all odds, the heat throbs in her ovaries once, twice, three times.. again and again and again. As those virile, wriggling little swimmers fight the best they can- and Cassarah's ovaries, engorged and over-productive from her natural advantage and certain assistance- receive Terry's eggs, bred thoroughly with a child's seed.

Cassarah had set a low bar for Terry, given his youth. Such a young, innocent boy, who likely didn't have much interest in women at all before he had playfully run into her burgeoning baby-bump. Cassarah had mostly kept him in the dark about what they were doing, that it was all just a 'game', to try and nourish the 'watermelon' that had made her so very, very large. She had gone into that pump room thinking, at most, the boy would find how pleasurable it was, try his best, and amuse her for a little while. But in the end, Terry had upended all of those prior expectations with the large burst of seed that spewed from his boyish manhood.

Not once, had Cassarah imagined that such a little boy could bring her to climax, that most of the pleasure would be one-sided. And yet, Cassarah was left shuddering where she had bent over and braced herself against the wall of the pump-room, the genuine pleasure that washed over her enough to ensure that she had an org*sm, as well. It was that same burst of wondrous, raw sensation that she got whenever she bedded some stud, one that she had yet to realize was her womb taking on even more offspring that it had, already. And for her partner being so little, he had struck home far, far more times than he should have. Like his swimmers were guided by a divine hand, they sought out fresh eggs in Cassarah's womb, and added to her ballooning brood, right there. Neither of them knew it yet, but well before the boy would even turn ten, he would be a father to eighteen.

"Haah...oh! Oh, Terry! You didn't tell me you were good at this game! Such a good boy...I should reward you...", Cassarah huffed, after spending several moments resting to regain her composure and clarity. She pivoted to look back at the boy, fatigued from his ordeal, and tried to think of a way to perk him up. It was a waste to stop at just once with such a surprisingly lovely partner. Inspiration struck when Cassarah felt how full her chest was, at the time...
"Mhm...Terry, are you thirsty? Would you perhaps...like some milk as a reward?"

The exhausted boy pants, sunk down against her back as Terry’s tiny chest heaves up and down. He stares up at the ceiling, mind racing as best it is able to with everything that just happened. His boyish shaft slips out of her womanhood with a lurid slurp as she makes her offer, the vapid child still processing the intense feelings that accompany such a climax. Eyes half glazed, he looks at Cassarah- gulping gently, as he looks at her ponderous chest.

“I’m thirsty..” He says quickly after her offer, sweat beading his brow as he wipes his face. Still utterly naked, the cute child stares up at the immensely pregnant Cassarah with a pleased smile.

“I’m-.. I’m glad I was good at the game! When- when will the watermelon get bigger? Will it be soon?” He asks a few more quick-fire questions, as the child often does. His shaft still twitches eagerly, rigid and slimy with their shared climax- as the marks of Cassarah’s taboo sins are left staining the pure flesh of her latest partner. Terry reaches up to stroke her belly. “I hope I make the biggest watermelon there is!” He says, giggling as he fondles and gropes her massive pregnant belly.

"It grows slowly, but it will get a lot bigger. Why, if I saw you again in a few weeks, you would see the difference you made!", Cassarah hummed, humoring the boy, while remaining ignorant of just how on the mark she was. Terry had contributed to her pregnancy like only a few of her partners had been able to. And while his donation was 'just' eighteen fertilized eggs, they would do their part to ensure Cassarah was that much larger in the end, whether she was aware of his good work, or not. Still under the belief that it was 'just' Duke's litter within her belly, Cassarah just couldn't bring herself to leave the boy disappointed, after he had done so well. Moreover, his affectionate touch was very welcome, and buxom blonde saw no reason to get him to stop. It was something she could see herself enjoying for the better part of an hour, while sprawled out on one of those deck chairs by the pool. But before the two would do anything else, there was the matter of rewarding the boy for all his hard work.

"Thirsty, hm...? Well, you're in luck, because I have these, just for you.", Cassarah gestured, reaching beneath her hefty breasts with her palms, and hoisting them up to get Terry's attention. The massive mounds, bulging out of her one-piece swimsuit easily spilled over the sides her palms, looking like a pair of gigantic, overfilled water balloons. Just shifting them in her hands confirmed just how engorged they were, with Cassarah having skipped out on milking herself this morning. When she began to tug at her swimsuit straps, unveiling those wondrous udders in all their milky glory, she would be able to see that her inverted nipples were damp...damp with fresh milk to share. With a smile, Cassarah lowered herself to sit down on the floor, and patted the empty spot next to her to call Terry over.

"Come over here, Terry. There's tons of milk in these. As much as you can drink..."

The young boy watches with awe as she shows off her jiggling chest, eyes following each and every movement of the swaying, sloshing orbs. He swallows, feeling a painful heat in his loins at the sight of her engorged chest- and he steps beside her, leaning on her massive belly with one hand, while the other prods and pokes at her inverted nipple, exploring the tender flesh curiously.

“Um.. how do I.. how do I suck out of this?” Terry asks Cassarah with a gentle embarrassed flush, lifting his hand away- the rest of his youthful body still leaning on the engorged slope of her belly. He’s clearly enamoured with them- using a finger to collect a few beads of milk, before sucking them off his finger with a low whimper of pleasure.

“W-wow.. they’re so sweet! You have so much milk Cassie!” Terry chirps with a giggle, fondling her breast and sloshing it around playfully. Utterly ignorant of the pleasure that might cause Cassarah, he plays with her bounty of breasts and her cute inverted nipples happily, ignorant to the consequences.

"Nnh...just keep squeezing it, just like that. And put your lips around where it comes out...", Cassarah murmured, her tone once again tainted with lust. Just as she was having an effect on the boy, the boy rubbing and groping was leaving its mark upon her. Although she liked to keep a cool head and look in control at all times, there just wasn't much getting around the simple fact that her body was a lot more sensitive than it used to be. With so much milk stuffed into her engorged breasts, that was especially true for her chest, and a firm enough squeeze could prompt a shiver out of the profoundly pregnant blonde.

However, Cassarah knew enough of her own body to know that her nipples, while inverted, wouldn't always stay that way. With enough kneading, be it by her hand or Terry's, the nipple on the the breasts he had been tending to eventually began to emerge, popping right out of its inwardly-folded state. That made for the perfect target for Terry to suck on to, to nip at for sweet, sweet milk. And so, when Terry moved in, pushing his face into a breast large enough to outright smother him if he wasn't careful, Cassarah wrapped her arms around the boy as if he were own, cradling him close while he drank.

"There...aauh...drink up, Terry. Then we can play that game even more! Oh, and feel free to keep rubbing as much as you like..."

Terry looks at that heavy, weighty breast as he leans in- hands cupping each side like he’s going to squeeze the milk out. His dainty childish hands squeeze the base of her breast as his lips pop over the swollen tip of her sensitive nipples. And Terry yelps, then moans onto her chest- the sudden deluge of thick creamy milk forcing him to gulp or choke.

Terry moans onto her breast as he starts to drink thoroughly from Cassarah’s bounty. The sound of gulping, mewling, and suckling fills the pump room as his cute little hands knead and squeeze her chest- pushing out more milk for the cute kiddo to drink. Cassarah watches fresh, in real time as the experience begins to revitalise her taboo partner, his boyish, limp co*ck beginning to slowly bulge and thicken again- as well as the tight, narrow sack that contains his seed. Slowly it begins to throb, swelling as Terry begins to refill with vitality and lust, thoroughly addicted to the milky treat he’s receiving from Cassarah.

As confident as Cassarah had presented herself, this was, in truth, the first time she had actually shared her milk with anyone...at least to this extent. There had been a brief moment with Martin, but that had been a number of weeks ago, and her milk had really only just started to come in, offering her colleague little more than a trickle across the tongue. In the days since, Cassarah's milk production had only grown with her cup size and her waistline, to the point where she could easily fill a whole, tall glass in just a single milking session. The fact that most women didn't make milk at all until after their children was born, was not lost on the blonde businesswoman. She could only imagine just how much her chest would ramp up production from now until the day she gave birth.

And yet, her own predictions would ever fall short of the truth. Not only was her body doing all it could to steadily prepare for the brood she unwittingly carried, but every milking session, or nursing, as was now the case, only encouraged the production to continue to ramp up. By expressing her milk, or sharing it, she was, effectively, tricking her body into thinking there was demand, already. Not that thought had ever crossed her mind. As far as Cassarah was concerned, nursing was...surprisingly enjoyable. She could relax and bask in the pleasant sensations that flowed into her as she fed that hungry, little boy. Without even realizing it, she began rubbing his back to encourage his guzzling, just as he had been rubbing her chest to encourage more milk to come out. Eventually, however, her gazed locked onto Terry's renewed vigor, twitching between his legs, and her thoughts turned back to how good it felt to have him inside of her the first time...

"Looks like you're ready to play that game more. Let's go back to the pool. I have an idea on how to have fun in the water and keep it secret..."

Terry slips off her nipple with a soft gasp, as the cute shaft of his co*ck rubs against her taut belly. He pants, milk on his chin as he beams innocently at Cassarah- rubbing her belly again.

“Oh, okay! I’d love to keep playing with you some more..!” He says eagerly, flushing warmly as he leans on her turgid, pregnant tummy. He pauses for a moment, listening with his ear on the taut dome- before he giggles, smiling at Cassarah. “Noisy watermelon!” The child says with a giggling laugh, as he grabs his swimming trunks and quickly tugs them on- struggling a little bit to fit his swollen shaft in it. Even when he has them on, the cute outline of his bulging boy-co*ck is visible to someone who knows where to looks.

Terry presses a hand to his chest. Something feels.. strange, after drinking that milk. He can’t quite put a finger on what, but it must be a part of the game. So he beams at Cassarah and takes her hand. “Let’s go!”

Cassarah beamed at little Terry, finding his adorable demeanor to be absolutely captivating. She had hear tales that children of that age could be tiny monsters from other women she knew, but there was none of that to be seen in the boy that happened to come up to her on her spur-of-the-moment pool outing. It almost made her feel guilty she was taking absolute advantage of his unbridled innocence, just to get her own, depraved rocks off. And yet, with how good it must have been making him feel, Cassarah found it all too easy to reason that everything would be fine in the end...assuming they weren't caught.

In that regard, the safe thing to do would be to remain in the pump room, or stop while she was ahead altogether. But having felt the twisted thrill of having that child inside of her once, Cassarah just couldn't bring her to stop with just once. She worked tirelessly to straighten her appearance, stuffing her weighty, milky, breasts back within the confines of her one-piece swimsuit. That swimsuit was stretched taut over her abundantly pregnant form, almost like a second skin. With how it encouraged her chest to bulge around the straps...it could be argued that it was more erotic than a bikini. However, it still kept her technically modest, which was all Cassarah needed when she pushed herself back up to a stand and reached out to hold the boy's hand like a mother would. She had little idea where this kid's parents were, but if they weren't going to show before the two of them got back into the pool...she was going to have more fun.

"Say, Terry...where's your mom or dad...? They somewhere around the pool...?"

The young boy happily slips his hand into here, swaying along beside her. Much akin to being her own child- an even more scandalous situation, given the face that soon she will be giving birth to /his/ children. Terry nods with a light smile. “My dad’s here! He mostly sleeps though, he doesn’t like swimming like I do, he doesn’t even like being splashed!” Terry giggles, wobbling along beside Cassarah as they wander back toward the pool. It’s little effort to get the young boy looking modest again, swimming trunks doing an excellent job hiding any of his own immodesty.

Humming merrily, Terry watches Cassarah lead the way. Captivated, awed by her maturity, her kindness, and her unique appearance. He can’t help but let his eyes wander all over her broad, massive belly- and he steals any opportunity he can to rub it whilst giggling. Not to mention her other parts, that inevitably draw his eye as they wobble and bounce luridly- and again, Terry feels the tight warmth of his thing feeling weird again. He shifts the band of his trunks awkwardly as they rub against his increasingly firm boy-co*ck, flushing slightly without really knowing why.

"That so...? Well, I'll be happy to play with you for a bit more, then...", Cassarah hummed, basking in the wonderful feeling of having her growing, gravid middle rubbed. Most of the time, it came completely by surprise, the sheer breadth of her chest and stomach making it difficult to actually see Terry underneath her at certain angles. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that he could downright hide underneath her if he got low enough, and there was a great blind spot in front of Cassarah's belly, one that was getting larger by the week.

But it wasn't so cumbersome that Cassarah couldn't still waddle on her own, and see where she was going, at the very least. Once the two had emerged from the pump room, they were back in the warm midday sun...as well as in front of many a prying eye. Trying to pull something here of all places was a tremendous risk, and yet, the thrill called to the blonde businesswoman all the same. Continuing her lead, she moved towards the steps that led into the pool proper, divided by a polished, metal rail. She had yet to do any actually swimming at her pool outing today, and it felt like it was high time to begin. But as Cassarah waded in deeper, she kept her eye on Terry, and how the two might continue to 'play'. Inspiration struck when she noticed that there were submerged ledges on the shallow end of the pool, at the perfect height for one of Terry's size to sit upon while still keeping his head above water. She wasted no time relaying her plan...

"Mhm, if you sit there, we could play! Just like before, but I'll be on top! This time, though, you have to hide behind me. Nobody can see you! If nobody finds out before you give this...watermelon more juice, then you win!"

“Ooh, I love hide and seek!” Terry chirps back to her eagerly, finally slipping out of her grip to scamper ahead, hands waving out to either side as the young man runs to the edge of the pool in a child’s impersonation of an aeroplane. A baby, almost. Devoid of the sinister, sinful desires and wants of an adult- and yet he’s already sinned. He’s bred Cassarah. The unknowing young boy yelps lightly as he tests the water, then giggles as he dives in. He submerges for a few moments, before emerging with his curly locks flattened to his scalp, shimmying up onto the small ledge to sit on- looking back to Cassarah with a wide, expectant smile.

Other adults barely even notice his antics, as Cassarah feels the tingling sensation of all eyes being on her. Conversations falter with every sway of her massive belly bump as heads bob and sway to the bounce of her chest. She commands the attention of every luridly-minded man and woman there, as teenagers- the lifeguard, even chiselled older men with salt-and-pepper hair look to her with lust in their eyes. So many options for her to vent her perverse desires, and yet she’s chosen Terry. The innocent, playful boy sways from side to side, looking expectantly towards his pregnant partner.

The more Cassarah swept her gaze across the pool and the space surrounding it, the more she saw that she was commanding attention with her very presence. It was understandable. In a relatively short amount of time, she had gotten enormous with Duke's pups, well beyond the point of looking just pregnant with one, or two. Her 'litter' made her look like she was having quite a few babies, and would soon be at term. Paired with the way her body seemed committed to growing to match her impending, maternal needs -in truth far greater than anything she had imagined- there was no shortage of places to ogle. Not only was her cup size several orders larger than it used to be, she could feel just how much bigger her backside was, nowadays. Were she in any of their shoes, she'd have joined them in staring!

Before, Cassarah might have shied away from all the attention, but lately, she had been basking in it. With a smoldering gaze and a lick of her lips, she sashayed into her position in the pool, body swaying and jiggling in ways no other woman could imitate. Eyes kept on her were eyes kept from Terry, who was subsequently hidden behind her rear and back. Unable to really see him herself, she had to rely on the feeling of his tiny lap underneath her, and that protruding boyhood of his, to know she was getting properly aligned. Like before, it was just a matter of pushing aside the thin part of her swimsuit to grant Terry access to her puss*. And submerged beneath the water, there was no way anyone would be able to see...!

"You alright back there, Terry? I know we're in water, but I'm not as light as I used to be. Just get yourself inside, like before, and we'll start the game..."

As they submerge together, Terry sucks in a hoarse gasp of air- as the sheer, vast bulk of Cassarah’s entire body weight presses down into him. Mitigated only by the softness of her hips, Terry grunts a weak reply at first- as he regains his breath with some effort.

“I’m- im ready..!” He pants out, as those cute, probing hands reach under Cassarah’s vast bulk to find her exposed slit- guiding his own hips into position beneath her. It’s not long before his cute boy-co*ck teases jealously at her swollen folds, the tender, swollen tip of his shaft sliding easily within- soon joined by the rest of his shaft. It is swallowed easily, and with a hoarse sigh- Terry hugs Cassarah from behind, fingers scraping across the tender, stretched skin of her waist- where her vast belly meets what was once a slender midriff. He pants, lying back- letting Cassarah get to work extracting every last drop from those cutely swollen sacks of seed.

Even when sinking into the water, Cassarah draws plentiful attention- a whispering couple to one side, a few eager teenagers elbowing one-another into approaching. A small ecosystem of gawking, lusty people with no idea how depraved the woman truly is.

Cassarah had to suppress a shudder of delight when Terry managed to enter her once more, the feeling of taking this pure, innocent boy inside of her no less incredible than it had been the first time. A part of her knew that she had, and still was crossing lines that just could not be un-crossed, but she just couldn't summon the will to try and end things after they had only just started again. She could claim to not be so twisted and lustful, but her body was far, far more honest. No sooner had Terry slide inside of her, she had started to clamp down on his shaft, refusing to entertain the thought of him pulling out again before she got the satisfaction she craved. And so, Cassarah began to rock her hips. Slowly, as to not make it obvious to draw undue suspicion, but enough toget that sort of pleasure she craved flowing anew.

Meanwhile, there was no shortage people watching her, watching her body, which was prone to jiggling from the slightest movement as it ever was. Cassarah, welcoming the attention, 'casually' rubbed her profoundly pregnant stomach, and occasionally stretched in ways that would 'accidentally' have her forearms squish up against her bountiful bust. She could just see how she was capturing everyone's attention, be them horny teens whose fantasies were evident on their face, or jealous housewives who wished they could be so 'naturally' curvaceous...

Her absurd fertility dominates the public space, it’s hard to imagine there being any other topic of conversation. Lecherous, jealous wandering eyes follow every move and motion- each wobble and sway of Cassarah’s illogical body. And in their fascination, they miss the debauchery happening right under their noses. Her slow rocking is torturous, compared to the rapid rutting that they enjoyed in the pump rooms. In a strained, soft voice- Terry whimpers from behind her.

“It’s t.. too slow, ahh..” He mumbles softly, as his hands dig into her hips harder. He begins to meet her thrusts. The cute young boy being pinned under her pregnancy-fattened ass, fights back. Though he is slender, tiny by comparison- the water makes Cassarah that much easier to move- and so, even Terry manages to start humping up against her. His tender, swollen co*ck thrashing back and forth in her tight folds, throbbing lustily as it pumps in and out of her hips. And more concernedly- the additional motion makes Cassarah.. bounce. Water splashes and ripples, her body shaking and jiggling due to the selfish lust of her lusty young partner. More eyes are on her, watching her. In awe, lustily watching the show. Some are envious, scornful of Cassarah to so blatantly flaunt her assets. One set narrows however. A set of footsteps approaches her side, the yellow-shifted teenage lifeguard. His cheeks wear a few acne spots, messy brown hair tied back, green eyes studying the pregnant slu*t as she is bucked into by Terry. He co*cks his head with a concerned smile.

“Y’alright there, don’t need a hand do ya’?” He asks, eyes drifting lecherously. He is a teenager after all- but his studies of her rocking body can only lead to disaster before long.

Slow. That wasn't something Cassarah had expected to hear from Terry, who had only just gotten a taste of a woman's body for the very first time, several minutes prior. Cassarah could only attribute the response to raw breeding instinct, something speaking to little Terry on a subconscious level. Faster. Harder. He may not have known what he was truly doing, but he had come to the correct conclusion on how to make it feel better all the same. Cassarah would not have hesitated to oblige in any other instance, but with so many watching her, she eased into quickening her pace as to minimize the odds of anyone catching on to what she was really doing. It wasn't easy, with Terry buried between her legs, her own body wanted nothing more to buck wildly on the little boy, spurred on by his eager grip of her waist and thighs. It all felt so wondrously, sinfully, good.

"Mhm...!? N-no, I am...quite fine. The...little ones are just...rowdy, today, yes...", Cassarah stammered, her tone nearly betraying her lust. When the youthful lifeguard came to check up on her, she was forced to make up an excuse on the spot, one that she hoped the teen would buy when she gestured to her grand, grand stomach. Large to the point where she couldn't even reach around it anymore, she made a show of rubbing it in large circles, something she genuinely enjoyed. And yet, in her sweeping, she'd press her tremendous breasts together between her arms again and again, giving the bystanders plenty to etch into memory...

"D-don't worry, I'm keeping to the shallow end, today. All's...w-well...!"

The young boy under her has no intention of making this easy on her. Terry’s efforts redouble as he thrusts up into her, sloshing the water as his cute co*ck shudders within her. That tender length bucks and bulges with another approaching org*sm, swelling as tender, young seed floods up the cumvein of his cute co*ck. Cassarah can feel the building waves of pleasure and anticipation in her young partner, fingers tensing and dragging across her skin as he thrusts desperately-

The lifeguard co*cks his head, nodding with understanding- even if his gaze is nowhere near her belly in the moment. His eyes twinkle as he hears the throaty sound to her tone, and he crouches down closer- perilously so, to the act of debauchery just below him.

“Well, if y’need anything once yer done soaking to calm ‘em down, a snack or.. a rundown, you jus’ lemme know.” Those rich green eyes shoot her a wink as he sways back to his feet, and paces back towards his tower.

- and Terry utterly erupts up into her belly, the moment he turns his back. Gouts of thick creamy load splatter her convulsing canal as his co*ck sputters and throbs, stuffing her hips with a fresh coating of his breeding material. The warmth shoots up through her belly like the spreading limbs of a tree, tingles of pleasure as the pressure of their thrusts forces the virile swimmers up into her swollen womb, the cute little things taking a fair few minutes to cut through the mess of growing bodies within her. But with a natural breeding instinct, and her own hyper-fertile body- soon her glutted, hungry ovaries swallow up his eager swimmers- that find their way to fresh eggs, slamming into them with pulses of white-hot pleasure..
.. Once, twice, again, and again.. in rapid succession, her eggs are violated by a child. Breeding her furiously and effortlessly, her belly gurgling contentedly as it transforms more of Terry’s liquid lust into buns for her hyper-fertile oven. Till finally, fifteen more of her eggs are thoroughly fertilized.

Cassarah barely managed to keep it all together long enough for the ignorant lifeguard to wander away. Terry, trying his very best, had kept going right up to the point of climaxing inside of her a second time. Where Cassarah had thought herself increasingly aware of an imminent org*sm, the distractions, and perhaps being underwater, had made it come more of a surprise, leading to that much more of an impact. It took everything Cassarah had not to twitch too much, not to drool, when that glorious spike of pleasure, one that she had yet to realize was her hyperfertile womb getting seeded again, washed over her as much as the water in the pool did. That intense moment, of pleasure she just couldn't get on her own, instantly justified her depraved behavior with Terry in her own mind. It all just felt so very worth it, when she was submerged in a haze of post-coitus joy, one that unknowingly added more than a dozen additional babies to the brood packed within her womb.

The blonde needed a minute to recover, but once she had, she turned her head to the side to try and speak towards Terry underneath her. The boy had performed his role wondrously. She couldn't have asked for a better time at the pool.

"Good job, Terry...", Cassarah whispered, even though ambient noise at the public pool made eavesdropping nigh impossible, "...you win again! You're really good at this game..."

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

The inexorable march of time continues its steady flow. After Terry’s thorough seeding, the initial litters bloating Cassarah’s body only accelerate in their growth- adding weight and bulk to her swollen frame. In response to her growing need, Sakimodo informs her that there’s a OB-GYN that does a lot of business with their company, consulting for them and also purchasing from their production centers. It’s no challenge to book an appointment, and before long- Cassarah finds herself in a cozy private practice near the edge of town.

West Ridge practice is a low-ceiling building with wide halls and doors- designed for /most/ pregnant people. Most, being the operative word. The space has soft cream walls decorated with rich, warm paintings and other pieces to spruce up the environment. The waiting area is sparse- furnished with comfortable sofas and a number of books, lit by warm overhead lamps that are a touch old fashioned. Cassarah is barely in the lobby before a cheery, freckled taller man steps out of the back to greet her. His smile freezes with awe, as the man in the coat takes her in fully, stunned for a moment.

“.. My.. my word, you must be miss Wilhelm? I’m Doctor Kingston, it’s a true pleasure to have you.” He greets her with a warm smile, one hand holding a clipboard. His build is slim, glasses perched precariously on his nose- constantly sliding to one side or another, with frequent adjustment. His eyes are a clinical pale blue, holding her gaze professionally after that initial shock.

Cassarah appeared unable to sit completely sit, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, or idly glancing about. In short, she was feeling restless, and not 'just' because she had gotten another reminder as to how big she was getting when she felt how narrow a perfectly normal doorway had been for one of her size. From the very first moment that Cassarah had known that she was carrying Duke's pups, she had known that this day would eventually arrive. She had been avoiding the issue from the very start, dodging questions about doctors and her health in and out of work. But the larger Cassarah got, the less she could continue to avoid the issue. And getting larger was something Cassarah was doing a whole lot of, lately, as her peculiar pregnancy showed no signs of slowing it's outward advance.

When she showed early in her pregnancy, Cassarah had a feeling that she was going to end up notably bigger than she should have, and had gone with the excuse of a surrogacy that had ended in multiples, a plausible explanation for something that really couldn't be explained. And yet, that reason was getting stretched thin the longer Cassarah kept herself in the dark. She had to consult a doctor. The company even had a specific, affliated clinic she could visit, free of charge. The problem, and the reason for Cassarah's unease, was the fear of what the doctor would find. So far, only she had known that it was Duke, a dog, that had impregnated her, rather than a man. An ultrasound would change all that, surely. Cassarah was utterly convinced that, the moment she had that humming wand against her womb, her depraved secrets would be laid bare. And so, while she did her best to hide it, Cassarah radiated an air of anxiety, constantly rubbing her immense stomach in the attempt to keep her mind off what felt like the inevitable condemnation.

"Y-yes, that's right! I'm Cassarah. Good to meet you. I've been...putting off this appoint for far too long..."

“Anxieties after the initial onset of pregnancies are quite common, Miss Wilhelm. I’m simply happy to furnish whatever needs you have.” The lanky doctor says with an easy smile, adjusting his glasses again. He turns, pacing towards the hallway. “Right this way- and if you’d like tea, or a light snack to settle your nerves- simply let me know.” His calm, polite tone remains measured and relaxed, as he leads Cassarah further into the clinic.

The room he leads her to has a bank of monitors with a sleek modern background, with a scattering of piled papers and folders around the rest of the desk. The walls are the same soft hue as the lobby, decorated with a smattering of art pieces and infographics. The other half of the room is taken up with equipment- a durable grey seat with thick cushioning, all wrapped in sterile plastic. Two bars hang from the underside of the slanted seat, for maneuver of the legs during a procedure. Draped over it is a blue hospital gown, and the seat is ringed by a curtained partition that can be pulled closed. A bank of machines rest nearby, blinking rhythmically as their cables link to various tools used by a gynecologist. Unlike most clinics the lighting is less sterile in the room, though this space clearly has the faint chemical odor of a well-cleaned establishment. Doctor Kingston paces to the desk with the monitor bank, opening up a program before taking a pair of latex gloves, which he begins to slip into.

“Now, Miss Wilhelm- take a moment to get changed, feel quite free to use the partition- and inform me once you’ve changed, and found your way onto the examination chair.”

Pleasantries and complimentary snacks could do little to truly calm Cassarah, with her knowing what she did. She just couldn't shake the fear of what might happen once the doctor found out the truth. Even as Cassarah took some of the offered crackers - her appetite as grand as it had ever been - her mind raced with thoughts of how she mind 'control' the situation. Could the doctor be bribed, if it came to that? The last thing she wanted was to adorn every tabloid magazine in the nation as the woman who played surrogate for her own pet dog!

It was that very concern, that of being socially exposed, which left Cassarah fighting the desire to make up some excuse and run away from the examination room. By contrast, physical exposure barely registered, Cassarah finding it all too easy to start stripping behind that partition to don that blue hospital gown. Start, anyway. At her size, she had discovered that getting stripped was a good deal easier than getting dressed, when there was so much belly to have to work around. What would have taken but a minute or two instead took several, with Cassarah occasionally huffing from the exertion. However, no sooner had she started putting her arms through the appropriate holes, it became apparent that the gown was much too small. Made to accommodate women with normal pregnancies, the gown was drawn tight over her large chest and massive stomach, and couldn't actually cover everything, particularly around her luscious backside. When Cassarah had to suppress a shiver before emerging, she couldn't say for certain whether it was due to the cool air in the examination room...or the thought of being seen so scantily clad.

"I-I...think I have done as well as I could manage. Does that chair lower, any, doctor? I cannot claim to be very good at climbing, nowadays."

She hears the doctor approaching, crisp footsteps across sterile flooring- and he pulls back the partition. For a brief, hint of a moment that professional calm demeanor falters with a faint look of surprise. Can he really be blamed as momentarily, his eyes drift down that poor overtaxed gown? But he is quickly composed again with that same calm, dry smile.

“Of course, Miss Wilhelm. Just a moment.” He walks to one side of the bed, to a small panel- which causes the chair to hiss softly as it lowers. Soon it’s at a much more reasonable height for her to climb into given her size, as the placid, professional Dr. Kingston assists her into the cool seat, helping get her legs up in the stirrups. Once that is complete, he fixes his glasses with a soft smile, gaze roaming across her vast bulk with a more clinical eye.

“Now, Miss Wilhelm- I’m going to conduct an ultrasound. You should know- the fetus, or..” He gestures to her belly with a light smile. “- fetuses, are often not yet developed enough for the ultrasound to gather many details about them. But, given your current size at the end of your first trimester, I’d like to ensure that the babies are healthy and well- though given how you’ve been adapting, I have little doubt.”

The doctor begins to prepare his equipment, a small container of clear-looking fluid- and a wand, hooked up to a monitor that hums to life as Kingston switches everything on.

Cassarah climbed aboard the examination table with all the enthusiasm of somebody moving towards their execution. Dr. Kingston had been nothing but friendly so far, but Cassarah was already bracing herself for how the doctor would react when he saw that her 'babies' were distinctly inhuman. Her only hope lied with what the doctor had said at the last moment, that, with her only being at the tail end of her first trimester, that the forms of her children wouldn't be developed enough to allow him to realize they were a great deal more canine than they should have been. As Cassarah settled on that table as best she could, enormous belly pointed skyward and utterly blocking sight of her lower body, she held fast on that furtive hope that, maybe, she would get through this whole ordeal without incident.

"T-that so...? Well, I suppose it won't hurt to take a look all the same, haah...", Cassarah chuckled nervously, her hands once again drifting to the sides of a belly that was far, far larger than it should have been for how long she had been pregnant. Where most women would have a bump that was still quite concealable at just over three months in, Cassarah was well past looking overdue. She was entering the realm of what could not be plausibly normalized. And yet, as astonishing as that should have been, Cassarah found herself enjoying waking up as large as she was, every morning. For a woman that had once never believed she would be having children herself, it was quite the departure. Not only did pregnancy suit her mentally, it seemed to suit her body to an unnatural level. So large...and not a single stretch mark to be found! Dr. Kingston would be able to confirm as much when what little fabric of the hospital gown that did cover Cassarah's belly was pushed aside to begin the examination with the ultrasound wand...

Those latex-covered hands are soon unfastening the buttons of her gown, and any remaining modesty for her glutted pregnancy is thrown out the window- as the fabric parts like a curtain. Kingston studies it with a slight widening of his eyes, gaze lingering where the skin is pinched around her waist up to her ribs.

“.. Not a single stretch-mark to be seen. You should be quite proud, miss Wilhelm.” He says softly- as he takes the bottle of clear fluid, secured at one end by a cap- which he unfastens. He meets her gaze apologetically. “.. This can be quite chilly, but it’ll be warmer once I’ve rubbed it in. Just try to relax.” He says softly, before he takes the bottle- and allows their contents to drizzle across her bellies surface.

It is shockingly cold, at first. Cool gel spilling onto taut, rosy flesh in messy spurts that splatter the surface. But that cool sensation soon spreads rapidly, as Kingston begins using his hands to rub the gel into the vast bulk of her stomach. His hands are tender, and far less clinical than his sharp eyes. Those fingers trace the flanks of her massive stomach delicately, tenderly, spending ample time pampering her skin with long, languid strokes that leave her stomach truly glistening. With the sheer bulk of her, it takes him the better part of five minutes, spent exploring, rubbing, soothing the tender flesh of her pregnant swell- paying special attention to her navel, belly button, and where her belly meets her waist. Once complete, Kingston leans away with a content sigh- gloves still sticky with the same gel now coating her stomach, and he smiles.

“All done.. not too cold, I hope?” He asks, wiping his hands on a towel- before picking up the ultrasound wand.

How quickly Cassarah's worst fears could be sidelined, and momentarily forgotten. Within moments of Dr. Kingston peeling away what little was wrapped around her gravid middle, Cassarah was awash in genuine pleasure, most of which stemming from the feeling of having her tremendous middle gently massaged. As warned, the gel had been cold on oh-so sensitive skin, but it was more than tolerable once the doctor's capable hands began to rub the mixture onto acres of creamy belly. Not even wearing latex gloves could truly put a damper on Cassarah's enjoyment, who ended up closing her eyes at some point during the process. A couple months into her pregnancy, she had a dream like this, once. That of being a enormous, near-immobile queen, tended to by dozens of faithful servants. Upon recalling that pleasant memory, Cassarah pressed her supple thighs together on the other end of that oh-so swollen womb. If she didn't have to worry about being exposed for bestial*ty, she was convinced she would have made a lot of appointments by now, simply to enjoy the feeling again and again.

But when it came to snapping back to reality, there wasn't quite anything like being spoken to. Just as Cassarah's hands threatened to slide up towards her own chest for a bout of wanton self-groping, Dr. Kingston's voice prompted her to gasp, and remember that there was a very real risk of being exposed as a deviant, right about now. She tried to not allow her concerns show on her face, flashing an uneasy smile towards her physician. The moment of revelation had come.

"Ngh!? N-no, nothing I can't handle, haha...was just...surprised. You moonlight as a masseur, by any chance...?"

Doctor Kingston breathes out a light chuckle, the professional demeanor cracking as he regards Cassarah with an amused look. “No, no. But I’ve given plenty of women like yourself an ultrasound, and know it can be a bit unpleasant. I try to make the whole process somewhat more relaxing.” He explains, taking the wand and bringing it to the flank of her belly. “Now, just hold still..”

The feeling is odd. A subtle buzz echoes from the wand as he draws it slowly across the surface of Cassarah’s baby bump. The tip is rigid, deforming the surface of her stomach as it slowly sweeps across her vast bulk. As it does, the monitor up above pulses with movement all over- uncertain shapes bobbing and pulsing under the wand, before Doctor Kingston moves it again. The footage is grainy and monochrome, providing little information on its own- but Kingston’s commentary is slightly more illuminating.

“.. I see.. I see. I.. believe I see a fetus, it looks healthy.. a little on the smaller side, but that is not unusual with multiples. Hm..” He continues his probing search, commenting whenever he finds a fetus.. finding several all across her belly as he explores- never in enough detail to make any particular notes about their peculiarity. As he sweeps low, just above where her belly meets the slope of her hips- bared, without the protection of the gown, he nods softly.

“.. I see. I think I may have some idea as to why your pregnancy has advanced as much as it has.” Kingston says, looking up at Cassarah. “The young ones look perfectly healthy, as does your belly. Too healthy, even. You’re carrying a /lot/ of water weight, and- I apologize if this question is too personal.. am I to expect you’ve seen some rather alerting development in the size and tenderness of your breasts and hips? Perhaps even the beginnings of some milk production?” His tone is gentle, calmly clinical- as he finally lifts the wand from her belly, the soft buzzing, probing feeling fading away.

Cassarah braced for the worst, less wondering about what was on the screen that Dr. Kingston viewed, and more watching the man's reaction. Every time he furrowed his brow, every time he tilted his head slightly...she was convinced that the metaphorical bomb was about to drop. Any second, she told herself, she would be racing to come up with an explanation as to why she was carrying puppies in her womb, still ignorant of the fact that her brood had become far, far more than 'just' Duke's offspring.

And yet, that did not happen.

Rather than ask her why her children didn't look human, Doctor Kingston broached questions that were really quite understandable for a pregnancy that wasn't normal in size. Hormones, tenderness, recent development...compared to everything that Cassarah had been expecting - and dreading- some vaguely-personal questions might as well have been nothing at all. Feeling as she just might have gotten through the examination without being exposed and shamed, Cassarah was all-too quick to answer those questions honestly and with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than was proper. Anything to keep the subject matter off of the contents of her womb, if only discourage the doctor from taking a second look and potentially finding something he had missed the first time around.

"Ah, y-yes! That is exactly what has happened, and undoubtedly why I've grown so much. Hips, chest...and yes, I have started to produce milk far sooner than I had imagined. But...I do feel fine, all things considered..."

“You do wear it well, it’s a small miracle you haven’t seen any marks or veins when you’ve progressed this much.” Doctor Kingston says with a smile, before returning his attention to her belly.

“I believe we are seeing a very rare case of pseudocyesis. The term itself is a blanket term for women whose bodies, through hormones and psychological factors, convince themselves that they are pregnant. In your case.. I believe your body has convinced itself that it is far more pregnant than it really is. Providing for dozens, perhaps several dozen fetuses given your current size.” He takes a hand, tracing the vast swell of her belly with light fingertips, down over the bump of her navel.

“If you were experiencing pains, I might be more concerned- but you and your children appear quite healthy, which dissuades me from recommending any drastic measure. But- I would like prescribe you some supplements, to help your body adjust to its growing size- and perhaps bring your hormones back into balance.”

Doctor Kingston might have been merely demonstrating with his bands, but the way he traced a line across the swell of Cassarah's enormous middle made her squirm in that examination chair all the same. She filled a remarkable amount of it, her widened hips and thickened backside close to peering over the sides. But as always, it was that stomach of hers that commanded attention, followed by the ample breasts that perched atop it. When the doctor's finger brushed past her especially sensitive navel, Cassarah let slip a girlish squeak, which in turn sent her chest quaking for an obscene amount of time. So full and quick to engorge with milk, Cassarah's breasts were as weighty as they were rounded, and rippled like water beds without the support of a very large bra. They stood in contrast to that taut, firm belly, which remained remarkably still. With none of Cassarah's children developed to the point of vigorously kicking yet, there was no movement to be found. That wouldn't stay the case in the months ahead.

"Nnh! R-right, that sounds...like a good idea. I'm in no pain, but you are the professional here. Please, prescribe me anything you believe to be necessary. I only...want the best for these children...even if it is a surrogacy. Is there anything else that you need me here for? Or should I get myself dressed again...?"

Momentarily, Doctor Kingston is stunned into silence by the sheer liquid motion of Cassarah’s bust, missing her question as his gaze follows the sway and wobble of his chest. Failing to adjust his glasses for a few seconds, he finally does- turning his gaze away from the vast pregnant woman, half-naked in his seat.

“Right- yes, if you wouldn’t mind. And I will need you to sign some paperwork to approve the supplements, but once you have- I can provide you a weeks worth of supplements, with further ones delivered to your office easily enough.” He turns back to her, recovering his composure enough to help the poor woman out of the seat.

“And, if you are searching for a recommendation, Earlgreen Parlor does lovely massages- and has specialists tailored for pregnant customers. Some of my other clients have given me glowing reviews regarding their work.” Once she’s free of the chair, the doctor slips away and closes the partition so she can change- leaving the woman to climb back into slightly less undersized garb.

“I will try, if you wish to schedule another ultrasound, to have a gown that will properly fit. I suppose it just be a problem you’re increasingly used to now.” Kingston says with a soft chuckle- as the sound of a pen scratching over paper echoes from the other side of the curtain.

Once again, Cassarah was made to reckon with the simple fact that it was getting a great deal harder for her to dress herself on her own, nowadays. With a stomach that utterly eclipsed her view of her feet, and made raising her knees too high come with a risk of kicking herself in her underbelly, she had to work around these inconveniences to get dressed once more behind that partition. It was part of the reason that, when Cassarah wasn't in the office, she had taken to wearing more casual attire around the house. She had a fondness for her custom-tailored suits -that her company helped pay for!- that was higher than most women, but even then, the blonde was seeing the benefits of things as simple as yoga pants and an enormous sports bra. But it was another suit that Cassarah had come in, and it left her stretching to fasten the furthest buttons around her middle, something she only barely managed to accomplish. Eventually, she managed to succeed in garbing herself in that pure-white suit once more without any problems, emerging from behind that curtain to bring her appointment to a close. Cassarah had counted. She was pretty sure that she hadn't missed any buttons up and down her chest and middle...

"Workplace delivery? That is convenient. I will happily sign...", Cassarah declared, taking the clipboard left for her to write her signature. A wave of the pen later, and the order was placed with her tacit approval. All that anxiety that she had felt going in had disappeared, her fears over what might happen having been avoided, somehow. So it was with a smile she handed Dr. Kingston back his clipboard, ready to collect whichever supplements she'd be taking today...and the days to come for the bulk of her pregnancy.

"...and I might just take you up on that recommendation. Eventually. I thank you for your aid, Doctor."

He smiles with a gentle nod, taking back the clipboard and checking the signature.

"You were a most pleasant customer, miss Wilhelm. It's not often I have the privilege to work with such a rare case, and you have a stellar attitude for one so far along in their condition." The doctor responds, satisfied with the bureaucracy that's been taken care of. He does pause for a moment, chuckling. "Just a moment.." He approaches her, and with those latex gloves removed- his delicate, surgically polite hands glide across the swollen form of her belly, along the seam of her dress shirt. He re-fastens the buttons strained across her gut calmly, patiently- undoing a void in the fabric, and re-aligning the buttons with their proper places. Those soft hands seem to delight in any chance to glide across her stomach, knuckles gently brushing her womb and stroking the sensitive underside, before finally retreating back to his side.

"There we are. I presume that's a rather hard spot to see." Kingston says with a soft chuckle, adjusting his glasses one last time- before guiding Cassarah up to the lobby once again, delivering her a brown package of pills and dietary supplements for the next week. A rather.. comprehensive package of pills to be taken throughout the day to help prepare her body for her growing pregnancy.

Sure enough, Cassarah found that she had missed a spot, ironically right around her oh-so shallow navel. Dr. Kingston had found, and amended, the button that had to have been the furthest from the rest of her body, at a distance she could no longer see around, but could only feel for. Even that would become a thing of the past in the weeks ahead, with how she had been growing. But with her biggest, and perhaps only fear done away with, Cassarah waddled towards the clinic's exit with a spring in her heeled step. Perhaps she would even celebrate not being exposed as a dog-mating deviant by getting something tasty on the way home. She was getting hungry again, and supplements bagged in her free hand was a reminder that she needed something to start washing these down with. Going with the doctor her company recommended had been such a good idea!

"Ah! Thank you, Doctor. It is as you say. Hard to tell that far out, without a mirror. Thank you so much for all your help. I'll be sure to follow the prescription to the letter...and call you should I have any concerns or questions. For now, I need to be getting back home..."

The doctor smiles with a gentle nod, and steps away.

"Take good care of yourself, Miss Wilhelm." With that, Kingston waves to Cassarah- gaze lingering on her wandering, retreating body for longer than is really professional- before returning to the long, complicated paperwork attached to her case for another perusal. This will surely be interesting.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Cassarah was of a particularly sunny disposition, in the weeks that followed her appointment. She had been given a clean bill of health, somehow managed to avoid having her secret discovered, and was left to go about her business as usual. In most aspects, little had changed, Cassarah was still clocking into her job as supervisor within the company every workday, and doing her best while on the job. What had changed, and was continuing to change...was her figure.

Only entering the second trimester, it wasn't exactly a surprise for Cassarah to find that she was still drifting through cup sizes and adding inches to her waistline by the week. While the difference in a single day wasn't so great as to be noticeable with the naked eye, Cassarah could feel the subtle changes with every morning spent gazing upon her growing, gravid self in front of her bedroom mirror. She'd then get irrefutable proof of what had changed when it came to getting dressed...and finding that she would be ordering new clothes again far sooner than she had imagined. Some days, it felt like her tailored suits couldn't quite keep up, leading to some less-than-professional glimpses towards her body at work...not that Mr Sakimodo or her subordinates seemed to mind. It was as potent a reminder to religiously keep to her prescribed supplements, which, after the initial supply, was shipped to her work regularly...just as promised.

But a new concern came up when Cassarah was invited by her younger brother, James, to come visit him on his ranch, and catch up. The two siblings, while by no means on a bad relationship, had not talked for quite some time, mostly by virtue of the distance in which they lived, and their pursuits in life. James took over the family ranch once owned by their parents, way in the rural outskirts. Cassarah had pursued her own career in the city, becoming a successful businesswoman. Now, she was making preparations to meet James again after all this time...

Its a warm day out in the countryside. Far from the constant buzz and bustle of the city and coast, the heartlands are a much quieter, lazier affair. Fields of lumpy, rumpled countryside are decorated with rolling fields of grass and crops, animals roaming and grazing the sweeping acres of farmland. As the hum of the engine rolls to a stop, Cassarah finds herself.. back home.

Farming has been in the family a very long time. While Cassarah moved away to the distant coast, James made his nest in the home they grew up in. Other family has long since moved away- a few workers seasonally help with upkeep, but by and large James keeps the place running himself.

The ranch hasn’t changed much. The building is much the same shape- roof patched and fixed up in a few places due to age, and the building wears a fresh coat of paint, lovingly applied to the historical building. The proud roots of the building- rough-hewn trunks of great wood that form the skeleton of the building, are prominent and visible. All around it- carefully maintained fields are kept, a few being grazed by herds of various animals- kept for company and self-sufficiency, rather than for any economic purpose.

The doors out front of the ranch, where a small porch with generational rocking chairs rest, opens up to reveal James. He was her younger brother- but in the intervening years, he’s definitely filled out. Wearing a loose white tank-top and shorts, a lazy, familiar easygoing grin on his lips, James waves to the car as he strolls out off the porch. His shoulders are chiselled and kissed by the sun, his curly blonde hair almost glowing under the sun. Freckles dot his nose as he studies the car curiously, blinking a few times as he tries to parse the shape within it from outside- not quite understanding what he’s seeing through tinted glass.

Cassarah took a deep breath before she took a step out of the back seat of that car. While not dreading the visit like she had initially dreaded the appointment with the doctor for what could happen, she was nevertheless prepping to face a barrage of -rather justifiable- questions. It had been a couple years since she and James last got together in person. All contact since then had been online or through the phone, neither of which utilizing a camera. And now, she was turning up looking a whole lot different than she had those couple of years ago.

Without even leaving the car, Cassarah could tell that James was giving her a weird look, not that she could blame him. She wasn't 'just' pregnant, she was profoundly so, to the point where she had ended up hiring a taxi through a phone app, rather than drive herself. Attempting to do so had proved somewhat fruitless, no matter how much she lowered or backed-up the driver's seat of her car, her belly was pushing against the steering wheel...and her chest was threatening to honk the horn. The latter was another problem Cassarah had been dealing with as of late. Her milk production had started early, and was clearly picking up. Where Cassarah could put off milking herself for a whole week at first, she was getting to he point where she needed to express her milk every couple of days. Sometimes, she'd awake in the middle of the night, feeling oh-so engorged, and not wanting to shuffle all the way to the nearest sink, sometimes she'd drink from herself...right from the source. It made her realize why that adorable little boy she had met at that public pool liked it so much. It tasted a lot better than she had been expecting.

But it had been a few days since Cassarah last expressed her milk, and so, when she slowly stepped out of the car, she was proceeded by the largest belly and bust her brother had ever seen. This was going to be an interesting visit...

It's fair to say that he gawks at her- the easy smile fading into an open-mouthed stare. It's a long moment of silence that is summarily shattered by a profound curse from her brother. "f*cking hell, Cassarah?" He's always been truly, and utterly blunt. He swears again with a grin, and quickly paces over to her- eyes roaming her body in a sense of awe. But that doesn't stop his big, burly arms from reaching out and pulling her into a big, broad hug.

He smells like home. Like her father used to smell- like woodsmoke and sunny skin. Plus the faint hint of some deodorant, probably worn for her benefit as his burly, well-muscled arms pull her against his side in a hug, one arm on her waist- the other on her belly by necessity. "I'd ask how you're doing but I can see that fairly easy-like!" He chuckles, leaning back to take a good look at her. "Who's the lucky guy? Scared I'll clobber him if you brought 'em around?" Even if his tone is easy and joking, his eyes are less joking and amused. There's a subtle look of concern, studying Cassarah closely as he draws away. Not unsurprising, when she shows up with a swollen pregnant stomach and no person responsible for it in tow.

Cassarah...sighed. She was expecting this sort of reaction, the utter bewilderment, paired with a barrage of questions. She had gotten used to the astonished stares from others, but dealing with family and those who knew her on a personal level was an entirely different game. Where strangers would typically keep to themselves and just whisper the sort of things her brother James was now blurting out aloud, James immediately put her in a position where she had to provide answers, even while he was giving her a welcoming hug.

"Woah there, cowboy. I see you're just as excitable as ever. One thing at a time.", Cassarah huffed, taking in a great whiff of his scent. This prompted an odd tingle in her head, one that left her furrowing her brow in surprise, but was ultimately found to not be unpleasant in the slightest. Cassarah reasoned that she just hadn't been around the countryside for that long. "This? This is a surrogacy. So there's no lucky guy to introduce you to, alright? I'm just as single as I was when we last talked...even if I am a plural in the more literal sense, as of late. And yes, if you haven't already guessed, I'm having more than one. Can we go inside, now...?"

It's hard to read the expressions that wash over his face in the wake of her own explanation, but they settle on a mixture of amusem*nt and relief. He leans away, letting her have her copious amount of space she needs. "Three long years, still not able to snag a fellow or lass for yourself. The more things change, the more they stay the same." He shoots her that co*cksure, easy smile as he tuts.

James leads Cassarah up to the ranch, forced to open up both the double-doors to let her through. The smell of sun-kissed grass and dusty wind gives way to coffee, wood and the other smells intrinsic to an older home. "You could've at least told me. I packed the pantry for two, not.. what, nine, ten?" He teases, shutting the door behind them to keep the dust out of the home. "Want some coffee? I have a pot on." Lugging her luggage over one shoulder, he drops it off in the master bedroom- soon returning to the kitchen and lounge. It hasn't changed much. One of the old sofas has been swapped out for something less bitten with age, but the upholstery, the shelves and walls are all familiar.

James, as ever, was always quick to fire back on Cassarah's quips. As children, it had lead to more than one headache for their parents. Now, Cassarah was far more likely to roll her eyes than throw a punch. Doubly so in her current condition. She hardly needed a reminder as to just how large she was getting, her brother's hand upon her body in that initial hug spelling it out so well, but that was exactly what she got when she made it into the ranch house proper. Those wooden steps up to the porch creaked beneath her heeled steps, and the front door, covered with a screen, looked more narrow to the blonde that it had ever been. She was remarkably close to rubbing against the doorframe when she had to hoist her belly through it!

"Coffee...coffee sounds good, thank you. I'm due to take my prescribed supplements, and it helps to have something to mix it in.", Cassarah agreed, waddling her way towards the new couch to set herself down and relax. It was one of the few things that looked new about the house, her brother seemingly bent on keeping as much of the house the same as it had been when it had been in their father's hands. The nostalgic feeling for seeing so much that was familiar was something that Cassarah could appreciate...even if she was reluctant to say as much aloud.

"Anyway, I'm telling you now. That's why I'm here for a couple days...and I'll reimburse you for food, if it comes to that...", Cassarah mumbled, trailing off towards the end as she recalled how much her appetite had been growing over the last few months.

Its not long before, in a flurry of industrious activity- James emerges from the kitchen with a platter. It contains two cups of coffee, and a mix of hams, cheese and other preserved foods to snack on. It’s not a small platter either- stacked high for her to peruse and pluck from. James sits down in an armchair beside the couch, clearly still quite amused and pleased by how his needling gets to her.

“Not even going to let your little brother be a good host and provide for a few days? Don’t sweat it.” He sips his coffee with a content little sigh, before crossing his legs and folding his arms, regarding Cassarah studiously. His gaze wanders her pregnant body- yet again caught a ways off guard with how /much/ she’s changed. “Anyway, what drove you to a surrogacy anyhow? I can’t imagine you of all people being desperate for money of all things.” As his gaze lingers, it’s impossible for him not to spend longer than he should on his sisters ballooning curves, the fact they share blood doing little to curve the base instinct to admire, to assess. He forces his eyes back up to meet hers.

Cassarah wasted no time helping herself, picking up a plate to hold up to her chest and pick from. Before, doing so would not have gotten anyone's attention, but with Cassarah's figure so much larger, even holding a plate close enough to her body to eat from had a way of looking erotic by virtue of her bust squishing up against her forearms. It didn't matter that she had come wearing one of her stuffy, buttoned-up outfits. No matter how conservative her attire, there just wasn't getting around the fact that she was huge underneath all that. No matter the angle, Cassarah was obviously, phenomenally, pregnant.

"I'll admit that it was...a little short-notice. But...I think it'll be for a good cause.", Cassarah half-lied, knowing full well it was her own depravity that had put her in this situation. Screwing her own dog had resulted in not only a pregnancy, but a big one. It wasn't exactly something she could go around telling anyone, not even her own brother. And yet, at the same time, she had all the tenets of a happy, future mother to be. Not only did Cassarah have that maternal glow, so relatively early in her pregnancy, but she couldn't help but periodically run her hand across her stomach, for how good it all felt. Yet another thing she was reluctant to share with her brother, who would assuredly tease her over it.

But the ogling wasn't merely one-way throughout the evening. For even as Cassarah ate, or watched the game on the television with her brother, she kept glancing at James, wearing things that left little to the imagination, as usual. Had he always been...so toned? So rugged looking? Cassarah had to drown those troubling thoughts with another great swig of coffee...once that had been mixed with a number of her prescription supplement pills. Ultimately, between all the catching up and unpacking, little of consequence happened that first day. That night, however, things got interesting when a surprise forced Cassarah awake in the dead of night...

It's late, well after sundown. James is much more exhausted than he expected to be. Going from tending to the ranch and surrounding farmland, to spending all the evening chasing untoward, primal urges from his mind regarding his sister- makes for a tiring combination. But even resting in the guest bed while Cassarah takes the king suite- the only bed that would fit her swollen frame. A thought that James has to banish from his mind again- the way it creaked and groaned beneath her as she settled.

James sits up. Restless, despite weariness, he rises from his own bed, he messily runs his hands through his hair and starts pacing towards the bathroom. Maybe using the washroom, splashing some water on his face, might help break the fog of arousal combating restraint that still coils in his mind. Without a shirt, dressed only in a loose pair of shorts, James paces down the hall towards the one bathroom in the ranch- wiping the tired sheen from his eyes.

The sound of huffing, and grunting, greeted James well before he made it to the bathroom. The light being on at this hour, and a large shadow being cast, likewise made it clear that he wasn't the only one awake at the moment. It was safe to assume that it was Cassarah, there was nobody else it really could be, but assumptions could only go so far as to what Cassarah happened to be doing at that very moment. When James turned the corner, he spied his sister, not garbed in a stuffy blouse or formal pair of pants as she so often was, but just her undergarments. A pair of panties that were doing their best to disappear between a luscious rear down below, and a sports-bra-like top that had been peeled back up front to leave her prodigious breasts utterly bare.

Why that was the case, was also answered, just by drawing nearer. In what initially appeared to be Cassarah awkwardly bending over the sink because she was perhaps feeling queasy, was, in fact, Cassarah bending over the sink to dump vast quantities of her own milk! James had seen her just a few hours prior, but clenched in his sister's hands were some of the largest, fattest, most engorged tit* that he had ever seen. They were arm-filling mounds for the heavily pregnant blonde, who gripped them and tugged them to shoot jets of milk out into the sink again and again. She was clearly struggling with the task, every tug prompting another shiver out of the long-haired businesswoman, and she had taken to biting down on the fabric of her top as to muffle her own moans...

"S-so much...why...tonight...!? Again? I took...c-care of this before I left...!"

Stunned silence is what greets the distracted woman, as from the entrance- James simply stares at the spectacle for a short time. Truly just drinking in the sheer sights on display, her arm-filling teats- the body he was fantasizing about just minutes ago, bared and spilling milk right before his eyes. And as he absorbs the sight of his naked sister lactating into the basin of his sink, James makes up his mind.

His footsteps are utterly quiet, but Cassarah learns of his approach quite abruptly. As sun kissed arms reach around her from behind, and knead into the heavy flanks of her swollen breasts. As James leans against her back, she feels his bare skin, his bare chest grazing against her skin- firm, rigid muscle against her soft, feminine frame. And his hips are pressed quite firmly against her swollen behind. The warmth of his body against hers is palpable, as James mutters against her ear. “Let me handle that.” James mutters in a soft voice.

And his hands start to knead. Not the motions of a rank amateur. Not motions meant to deliberately tease and arouse Cassarah. But these are the motions of a trained, professional milker. Large, rugged hands knead her tit* like the udders they are- loosening and massaging the taut flesh, encouraging the flow of milk through her mammaries- before tugging with calloused, layman’s hands, on her engorged nipples- to send messy jets of her creamy, rich milk spilling into the basin just below. His hands work in tandem, milking one breast then the other- one hand massaging the base and swollen curve of her chest, while the other pulls and pushes at her nipple to squeeze out each jet of frothing cream.

"J-james!? W-what are you-aauh!", was about as much as the astonished Cassarah had managed to say, before she was overtaken by the jolt of pleasure that struck her mind and body all at once. A part of her had worried that James could potentially overhear, that he'd awake to find her in this compromising position and taunt her mercilessly over it. She could just hear all the 'cow' comparisons that would arise, after finding that she was providing strong competition in output to genuine bovines.

But when James had found her, he had instead seized her chest from around her back...and utilized all his knowledge about handling cattle right then and there. With strong, experienced hands, he gripped and tugged on Cassarah's breasts in ways that really got the milk flowing. Her amateurish attempts had been clumsy and half-effective, only producing results by virtue of just how stuffed her breasts were. Once James had a hold on her, the milk really began to flow, and Cassarah was left quivering in her brother's embrace from the toe-curling pleasure that washed over her again and again.

And as the stimulation continued, unceasing, Cassarah's protests became something else entirely. Where she first looked to try to slip away, within minutes of her brother's milking she was grinding that fattened backside against her brother's groin, with only her panties standing in the way of him and her womanhood. She needed it bad...

James acted without really thinking, giving in to the primal, base urges that haunted him after his sisters arrival. There’s a certain part of him, still shocked to feel her grinding on his groin- on the protruding, swelling shape that fills out the front of his loose trousers. Firm, thick, and hot through the fabric- James’ co*ck is quickly rising to the occasion, sandwiching between the plush flesh of her luscious rest as it pulses with his rising heart-rate.

His hands knead brutally at her tit*, sending jets of the cream forth- filling the basin to the point where it spills onto the sink itself- the meager pipes not made for such a vast flow of milk. And eventually, his kneading turns much less practical, and far more erotic. Pinching her nipples taut, letting her feel how milk-swollen her breasts are, before letting down another cup-full of frothing cream. Hands groping her swollen chest, as he begins rolling his hips in response to her bucking rear- that turgid, rigid shaft prodding in the damp space between her thighs, against her barely covered womanhood. Were his hands not occupied, they might tug the fabric aside- but his hands stay firmly on Cassarah’s breasts, kneading, squeezing and milking her like a proper cow.

“.. You looked almost fit to start spouting milk like a faucet. It’s a good thing I found you- too much milk can be unhealthy.. at least in cows. Though, you’re giving them a run for their money..” He mutters huskily onto her ear, releasing her tit* at last- letting them slap against her swollen belly, which his fingers start to explore- spreading trails of milk across the vast creamy surface.

"I've been trying to...express it. Never been...so much, so soon...aauh...", Cassarah breathed, not at all berating her brother for touching her in a way that a sibling definitely shouldn't. In record time, that taboo had gone from her greatest concern to an afterthought, chipped away by the unrelenting stimulation that threatened to leaving her a milky, moaning mess on the floor. It had happened all too quickly in a woman that had already crossed the taboo threshold several times already, be it with a her dog, her colleagues at work, or a completely innocent boy. Each one had only made it easier for Cassarah to reason herself over the challenge to her supposed morals. Under normal circ*mstances, she might have clung to that platonic, sibling relationship, but with her body flush with need and potent hormones in spades, there just wasn't any chance of Cassarah thinking straight.

So her hands soon ran across James, actually encouraging him to tug and grope, so much better at it than she was. The feeling of being milked, not too unlike a cow, had proven to be incredible and hard to resist. But as Cassarah peered down at the sink, seeing how much of a mess she was making, she turned her head back towards her brother with a devious glint in her eye. All the milk was being poured down the drain. Knowing how good it tasted from personal experience, it just came across as a terrible waste...

"...want some? M-milk...that is. I've got so much...I can...nnh...share, right now...!"

His hands pause, and stop in their efforts of draining her copious supply, as James co*cks his head in curious regard. A hint of hunger glinting in his own eyes to match her own. Spurred by hormone, heat and lust, he gives a small nod of his head. With some reluctance he removes his groin from its comfortable cushioning, giving some much-needed room to maneuver the fecund form of Cassarah.

"You certainly have plenty.. and it's bad manners to put good food to waste." He mutters, hands moving to her hips- helping to turn her around- allowing direct access to her swollen teats. James meets her gaze with a faint flush of heat to his face, and with the cramped space- as he leans over her belly to find her breasts, she feels his swollen co*ck swipe against the underside of her belly. The full, throbbing form of it presses lustily against the underside of her engorged belly. The rest of him- that rugged, firm chest, glistens in the dim glow of the bathroom as he leans over her- into the milk-sodden depths of her cleavage, drinking in the scent, before his hands take one breast- and bring it to his lips.

The milking begins anew- hands pumping in a firm, powerful rhythm. This time though, both hands are devoted to kneading and squeezing her breast- while his lips clamp over her swollen teat, and sucks the milk from her weighty chest, drinking it in rhythmic gulps.

All that milk, pumped out to swirl down the drain...and there was still plenty left to spare. Cassarah could hardly believe it herself, but she could feel just how much was still sloshing about within her chest, well before she had extended the offer. Once she had, there was no going back. With her brother's help, she turned to face him, and leaned back to present her enormous bust to drink from. James had not kept her waiting, quick to seize the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, latching his lips around Cassarah's damp nipple. It had been inverted, but that didn't remain the case for very long, not when he utilized his tongue to coerce it to 'pop' right out. But whether inverted or not, the milk flowed freely, surging with every squeeze of those oversized knockers Cassarah hauled around.

And while James was engrossed, Cassarah embraced her brother, almost like she had embraced that little boy. Once again, she was made to realize just how good it felt to feed another, to allow another to drink from her, right from the very tap! In all of several seconds, Cassarah was tilting her head back and biting her lower lip, overcome with yet another sensation she just couldn't see herself tiring of. But all that prodding down below, against her belly, kept her from losing herself in the moment. James was aroused, possibly as much as she was! With an impish grin, Cassarah reached down to stroke that boxer-tenting member, all-but outright stating that she welcomed it's use.

"Looks like you got something...for me, as well! You just love...seeing your big sister like this, don't you...? Nnh...a part of you is...so very honest. You ought to put it to use...and make us even!"

His lips pull away from her breast after a very hearty meal of her milk, which he hungrily licks from his lips. James eyes her, a flush of heat and pleasure washing over his face as her fingers find and stroke his tented crotch, pressed against the warmth of her swell. His hands drop from her breasts, slowly trailing down her massive belly- exploring that taut, flush surface as he studies her with a growing, slightly flustered smile.

“Been.. struggling to tear my eyes away, all night.. it’s unfair, showing up again with such swollen tips, hotter than ever like nothings changed.. and with /this/..” He kneads her shallow navel with his fingers, rough and hungry.

He tugs down the hand of the thin fabric concealing his turgid shaft, allowing it to spring free- swiping her belly with a messy splattering of his own precum. The tip is messy and wet with arousal, the swollen, thick mass of his f*ckpole pulsing with lusty heat- the skin throbbing visibly, as a pair of swollen, heavy-looking balls churn with the thick, virile promise of a very potent breeder. A potency that is unknowingly stoked by the rich, creamy batter his body is processing in the moment.

“Can’t really make us even with you facing this way, sis.. best turn around, and show me exactly where you want me to put this thing.” He mutters huskily, hand stroking off his own co*ck as he smears his musky pre in messy swipes across her skin, the room filled with the scent of milk and seed.

Cassarah didn't even bat an eye when her brother confirmed her incestual advances, for she was simply that pent up at that point. Her head swam with lustful thoughts, as her body surged with amorous intent. Stopping without some kind of relief was unthinkable for the gravid blonde, so she did all he could to ensure that her brother was inside of her before either of them went back to bed. This included doing just as he asked and turning back around, bent over the sink. She dipped lower than she had when she had been trying to milk herself, and in doing so, drew attention to how full her rear was in the wake of her pregnancy and growing, caloric intake.

But even more remarkable than that, was her belly, dipping low between her legs, with it being so, incredibly large. Cassarah worked in another tease, wriggling her butt towards her brother, and just daring him to grip it while he pushed the entirety of his manhood inside of her. Already probing around her sex, it only took a little bit of blind alignment before it was pushing inward proper, pointed towards the womb that neither of them knew was far more stuffed with life than any woman's womb out to be. Humans...canine pups...there were so many...and there was soon to be even more!

"I think you know where we both want it...so stop beating around the bush and get to it, already! Fill me...right now..."

Both his rugged hands slap into a resting position on her fertile hips, calloused fingers sinking into the flesh as he grinds her ass against his exposed manhood. And where she was gifted in her own assets- her brother is similarly blessed with a rich, thick shaft that bulges against her skin- sodden with virility that trickles from its swollen tip. James chucked at her words, and spreads her thighs with his hands- giving easy access down to her gorged womb.

“I suppose you always knew best.. guess you are due for some payback.” And in a single thrust, James groans- his eyes flashing blind with the sheer drunken pleasure- as with one full thrust, Cassarah’s hips and underside are glutted and filled with the full weight of James’ manhood. Her slit bulges to accommodate his virile girth, throbbing hotly within her folds as he grinds that fat tip up against the tight wall of her cervix, pushing till he’s as flush as he gets against her hips. Hands bracing on her thick hips, gripping tightly- James wastes absolutely no time fulfilling both their needs- as the bathroom is filled with the symphony of their union- grunts, groans, moans, and the sodden sound of firm, rugged thighs and fat, heavy balls slapping against Cassarah’s fertile rump, that engorged co*ckmeat pounding her depths with a virile, lusty rhythm.

That bathroom was anything but spacious, and that was doubly the case for one of Cassarah's size. She couldn't back up without pushing her brother out of the room outright, forcing her belly and chest to press against the sink and the cabinet beneath it while they indulged in desires that nobody else could ever learn about. A part of Cassarah might have known that this was something she should have never, ever entertained, but the rest was left so very glad that things had turned out the way they had. As it happened, her brother was fairly well endowed, and fit into her sopping sex nicely, lubricated from hormone fueled lust running on full throttle. It wasn't long at all before James had fully buried himself within her c*nt, slamming the entrance to her womb, and getting much of her body to bounce or wobble from the force of his bucking.

Cassarah was forced to use her arms to brace herself against that sink, allowing her fat chest -still laden with milk to a degree- to bounce freely, slapping against the top of her swollen middle again and again. It was perhaps for the best that their childhood home was so far removed from any neighbors. The sounds that echoed out of that cramped, steamy space were nothing short of obscene. And both parties got to see just how depraved they look in the mirror that rattled before them! That did not, however, deter either of them in the slightest. If anything, another reminder as to just how big she was convinced Cassarah to clamp down on her brother's co*ck all the harder. There wasn't going to be any pulling out if she had anything to say about it!

"T-throbbing...deep inside! Y-yes! Right...right there! I'm already pregnant...so don't pull out...dump it all...inside...!"

James groans as Cassarah starts to clamp down- nails digging into her hips possessively, and for a better grip in response. His thrusts only grow more frenzied, heated, as he slumps against her bent-over body, his sweaty chest flush to her arched back as he ruts her like a hound. A sensation Cassarah is in fact familiar with.

“Gh, hah, n-not like you’re offering.. mgh! Much of a choice..!! So f-f*cking tight..!”

The frenzied rhythm of rattles, groans and slaps rises in tempo and volume as Cassarah feels a familiar throbbing heat building in her loins- the source, her brothers co*ck swelling and bulging as it reaches its limits. That turgid shaft bloats as his two swollen, heavy orbs of virile seed churn and gurgle with lusty heat- pumping their dangerous cargo up and into the stiff, thick shaft. James resists as long as he can- but, soon that mounting pressure becomes too great.

“I-it’s coming, f*ck, here it comes Cass..!!” He groans, arching his back as his nerves fire all at once- mind going blank as his co*ck spasms, then starts to erupt. And, Cassarah’s womb is flooded with a fresh, gurgling wave of virile, desperate swimmers that filter and flow out into her overly stuffed stomach. They spread and search through her massive, gravid womb for the spot where her vulnerable ovaries await- the churning mass of thick, warm baby-batter sloshing in her belly- before lances of heat begin to flow through her belly, as swimmer after swimmer start to collide with, and utterly breed her eggs. Unbeknownst to either of them- far more eggs are made available thanks to her fresh supplements, and her new partner has plenty of seed to breed them with- as an avalanche of pleasure erupts from her hyper-fertile, enhanced ovaries being bred again, and again, and again..
.. A ludicrous, messy, taboo brood of twenty-four fresh young are added to Cassarah’s gravid belly- and she feels every single one of those eggs being viciously fertilised by her very own brother, as he slumps against her back with a long, lurid sigh.

Cassarah's efforts were rewarded with that specific sensation. One that only came shortly after her partner climaxed, and dumped a load of spunk into her womb with nothing to interfere. A feeling that should have raised red flags, but was continually dismissed from the reasoning that she was already pregnant, paired with not wanting to question a good thing. As far as Cassarah was concerned, when she got that feeling again, everything she had done up to that point to get it had been more than worth it.

Most recently, that included screwing her own younger brother, and unknowingly, bearing two dozen of his incestual children within her brood-bearing womb. As per the doctors orders, Cassarah had been taking all of her supplements right on schedule. Not only had they amped up her milk production even further, but they had augmented the fertile ground that was her womb. More and more eggs kept getting released, in preparation for the next partner to come Cassarah's way. Already, Cassarah's offspring was getting closer and closer to two-hundred, all conceived at different times. So many, and yet, apparently room for more still as Cassarah's body went right to work making the next batch for some lucky male to seed by the time James was pulling out of her glistening sex. In that post-coitus moment of clarity, Cassarah realized what she had just done with her brother, but notably absent was any real sense of shame for having done it. All she could think about is if it would always feel this good...

"Haah...that was...incredible...but...we definitely can't tell anyone about this..."

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

After a unusual evening to a all-too normal day that had Cassarah getting far closer to her brother than she had ever imagined she would, the next morning was oddly mundane, by comparison. Neither of them had forgotten what they had done in that bathroom, and yet, neither were openly talking about it, either. But the dynamic between brother and sister had definitely changed, that night. Whether it was through Cassarah's willingness to flirt, or James' courage to feel his sister's body in ways that he definitely hadn't before that evening, it was difficult to imagine things would simply go back to the way they had been before her recent arrival. There couldn't have been a greater sign than what Cassarah had opted to wear that morning, clothes that James had bought for her, probably as a joke. So used to seeing her dress so seriously, he couldn't have envisioned his sister stepping out in a sleeveless tank top that only really covered her chest, and a pair of short-shorts that couldn't even be zipped up or buttoned. While they had been purchased before he had known that she was phenomenally pregnant, on her now, they were nothing short of erotic. Acres of creamy, blemish-free belly was on full display!

But as great a sight as that was, what hadn't changed, however, was the things that James had planned on doing - and needed to do- that very day. So far out in the rural outskirts, a drive to town was a drive of a number of hours both ways, meaning that Cassarah had to be left to herself for the greater part of it, after the two had shared a hearty breakfast together. Feeling like she could do with a bit of unwinding, Cassarah welcomed the respite, and followed James out to the front to see him off...still dressed in those clothes that made her less an independent businesswoman, and more a back-woods baby-momma...

"Don't worry about me, James. I'll be fine for the day. You do your shopping. I'll probably take a nap, in all honesty..."

There has been absolutely no shortage of lingering stares, first with shock, then with clear interest. Even when he’s loading himself into a sturdy pickup, his gaze flicks back to her when she speaks- eyes starting on her vast belly, then trails slowly up all the way to her eyes, a trace of longing behind that easy smile.

“I mean, if you can muster it in those poor legs of yours, to lug that belly around- I’m sure the horses would love to see you. Got a couple of feisty young stallions, but a few of the old guard are still around.” James offers, the door shutting behind him with a thump. He salutes Cassarah with an easy smile, the engine rumbling to life.

“Take care of yourself! Food’s in the fridge if you feel like it!” With that said, the car starts rumbling off the property- soon it’s a cloud of dust in the distance. And Cassarah is alone, under a beautiful blue, warm sky- feeling the rich sun on every inch of exposed skin- leaving her vast swell warm and rosy under the clear skies. The farm itself is fairly large, with paddocks where a few cows and goats are out grazing. There’s also a large barn just down the hill, a dirt track leading to it- where Cassarah knows a number of the families animals are kept when not grazing the paddocks.

The dusty cloud left from James' pickup was the last thing Cassarah saw before she was alone on the family ranch for the first time in a long, long time. With a clear, blue sky overhead, it was perfect weather to spend time outdoors, and just...relax. That was something Cassarah was in dire need of as of late, between the hair-trigger her hormonal body happened to be one, and the rigors of ferrying around all that growing weight up front. So, after once again taking her daily supplements, Cassarah found a nice, sturdy, deck chair to sprawl out on in the very same clothes she saw James out in. The only difference was a pair of sunglasses upon her face, and once she had those, she was slowly lowering herself down onto the chair, and reclining it about as far back as it could go.

She didn't exactly need to be reminded as to how huge she was getting as of late, but it was on her back that her size could really sink in. Peering downward, she couldn't see anything regarding her legs, her belly -big enough to push past her knees when she sat- just utterly eclipsing the view of her feet. And pointed skyward, it even loomed high, a great, pale moon in the middle of the afternoon. Uncovered, Cassarah felt the breeze caress her bare skin, and she wantonly stroked her middle again and again, still unable to believe she would enjoy being so huge, so much. But as she moved her arms, Cassarah was made to reckon with another part of her fertile figure. Her chest. Her breasts absolutely stuffed her top, and despite all the milking that had been done the prior night, they were looking a little full all over again. Stopping only to peer around at open grassland with nobody in sight, Cassarah pulled up her top, pulled down her huge -yet increasingly undersized- bra , and pushed a breast towards her lips. It had been a while since she had tasted her own milk...and it was rather filling...

This moment of quiet, and peace, and tranquility- is quite thoroughly shattered by the jangling of a fence being disturbed, off to one side of the now-topless country girl. As off to one side, a dusty ginger-haired kid- maybe ten or eleven year old boy, dressed in a baggy striped shirt with a chipped tooth, currently gasping and leaning back as her tit* bounce free.

Percy was out doing the morning chores. Getting out of the house to make way for his mom to handle the housework- not that he minds. Checking the fences and gates for any damage, filling the mangers with hay and feeding the chickens their seeds. But his explorations, his fun- is cut short as he spies an unfamiliar face at the neighboring ranch.

Leaning on the fence, he watches her pop her chest out, reeling back with surprise as he calls out in shock. “What- who- what are you doing!” He calls with an accusatory voice.

It had been a lovely several minutes for Cassarah. One hand on breast to hold it in place, the other, rubbing what she could still reach of her colossal stomach, and enjoying every second of it. Not only was the taste of her own milk as good as she remembered it -evidence as to why everyone else seemed to like it- drinking it left a peculiar, but pleasant feeling in her stomach, which flowed throughout her body at large. That alone was more than enough to convince Cassarah to keep drinking it, so long as she was still hungry, ignorant of the fact that her milk had gotten a bit more...special, thanks to the supplements she now took on the regular.

But right as she was really starting to enjoy it, and thoughts of allowing her hand to creep between her legs began to rise, the sound of somebody calling out to her startled her breast right out of her mouth, and forced her to haphazardly stuff them back into her top. Once she had, Cassarah did her best to sit upright, a task made far more difficult by just how large her womb had gotten, in recent weeks. Gone was her amorous mood, still present was the lingering feelings of lust, which made it hard to settle down in her seat.

"H-huh...? Who are you? T-this...this is private property!"

He stares at her blankly, adjusting his glasses quickly.

“You’re- you don’t live here!” He says bluntly, argumentatively, back at her. He folds his arms with a grumpy pout, cheeks flushed as he stares at her rather abundant form. The sheer abundance of the teats that just got tucked away, as he bounces between looking at them, then at her engorged stomach.

“.. Did you eat James? You’re so big!” He says, suddenly enamored with the sheer size of her pregnant swell- his words cutting with the bluntness of childlike youth. The slender ginger boy still seems quite tense with her earlier tone, leaning back from the fence though he’s still clinging to it.

Cassarah had to push her sunglasses back up on their perch atop her head when she heard the bizarre accusations fly. James hadn't mentioned his neighbors in the time since she had arrived, and even the closest houses were but specks on the horizon. The boy had clearly traveled far to come here, yet knew that James lived here as well. It made for a stark contrast to Cassarah's own home and neighbors. She was really only acquainted with the ones that happened to live right next to her, unable to name neighbors even three houses down. And yet, the boy made it clear that, for all he did know, he didn't seem to know what pregnancy was, which put a playful smile on Cassarah's face.

"I'm staying here. James is my younger brother. And no, I did not eat him. But I am quite big, as you can see. Big...with babies. What's your name, boy? Did you want to feel all of this...?", Cassarah asked, leaning back and giving her tremendous middle an alluring rub. She rolled onto her side to better face the boy that had intruded upon her brother's ranch, and pointed her beast assets in his direction. Between her abundant chest and a stomach beyond compare, there was no shortage of places for a developing, preteen boy to lock onto and ogle. The though of instilling some strange desires in another innocent boy had Cassarah licking her lips with anticipation...

Percy co*cks his head, staring at Cassarah utterly, his brow knitting. “Percy! And, that’s a lie- baby bellies aren’t that big, you’re way too big!” The young boy towards her.. well, everything, those youthful orbs drinking every inch of creamy exposed flesh- with special attention paid to the pair of sloshing, milk-filled orbs up top.

Percy shakes his head, crossing his arms- as the strange flush he feels in his cheeks continues to build and mount. “Wh- why would I want to touch it, if its filled with babies! Babies are gross, smelly, and yuck!” Percy declares with a huff, looking proud of himself- puffing out his chest a bit, an adorable gesture for a tiny, pre-teen child to attempt. He misses her predatory stare and mounting hunger, the young child clearly still oblivious to any ‘danger’ he might be in.

"Oh, so you do no where babies come from! Well, I'm this big because I'm having lots of babies. I'm gonna get much bigger before any of them are born. And up here...these are gonna feed them all. They're full of milk. Isn't that exciting?", Cassarah huffed, turning herself on, simply by saying all those saucy things aloud. But even if the words alone hadn't been enough to do the trick, the blonde ensured she would be aroused when she continued to run her hands across her own body. Whether it was sweeping across her immense, taut middle, or drifting upwards to give her oversized bust a playful grope, it was nothing short of erotic.

For while Cassarah's figure was sexualized to the extreme, it was made more sensual by virtue of her skimpy attire. The short-shorts that covered so little of her pelvis allowed meant her long legs and creamy thighs were in full view. A top that only covered her chest had left a brood-bearing belly front and center. And even though her modesty was maintained, there was little 'modest' about her breasts bulging around the straps of her sleeveless top. She knew it when she first wore them, but the clothes were definitely undersized...

"My name's Cass, and you see Percy, there's nothing gross about all of this..."

Even though Cassarah can tell she has his utmost attention, Percy seems loath to admit it- pouting at her words with folded arms and a huff. The young boy can’t quite look away, and the frown isn’t terribly convincing, but nonetheless he maintains an air of disgust and distaste, even as his eyes follow every movement and motion on display.

“Just because they’re in you, doesn’t mean they’re less gross. It just means.. means you’re gross too! All.. big, and floppy and bouncy.. and I saw you drinking your own milk before!” He accuses her pointedly, cheeks flushing with heat. The boy might manage to convey blunt accusations well, but his constant fidgeting, glasses adjustment, and the way he’s shifted how he’s standing- tell a very specific story of how the child is reacting to the very provocative display of her pregnant glory, his gaze seldom meeting hers- much more likely to linger on acres of exposed, creamy flesh.

"That's because it's delicious, Percy. What, do you not like milk? I could...share some with you.", Cassarah giggled, making a show of pressing her impressive breasts together with her forearms. Trying to seduce a preteen boy like this was yet another entry in a growing list of depraved things Cassarah had done, but the thought of influencing a boy on the cusp of being a teenager had simply been too enticing to pass up. She wriggled in that weighed-down deck chair she had been lounging in, encouraging her chest to sway and jiggle - anything to keep Percy's eyes on her. He seemed adamant that he wasn't interested, but Cassarah knew enough of body language to know when someone wasn't being entirely honest. But more than anything, she could spy the small tent that Percy was pitching within his slacks, betraying his interest.

"There's just so much, I have to drink it from time to time, just so that it doesn't go to waste.", Cassarah continued, not exaggerating in the slightest. "Though, if you really think this is 'gross', well, you can go right back home..."

Percy thinks about it. It is a hot day, and he’s been doing chores for a while now.. maybe a nice drink would go down well. His cute eyes linger on Cassarah’s lurid display, flaunting herself for the affections of a preteen boy who doesn’t even know what sex is. Percy unfolds his arms with one last huff, finding himself inexplicably interested, drawn towards the odd woman and her massive belly. With a scampering move he climbs over the fence, and paces over to the lounging Cassarah.

“Well, if you really have too much.. then I guess I could drink some..” Percy grumbles reluctantly, and as he approaches- the cute little tent in his trousers becomes just a bit more obvious. Clearly the boy hasn’t noticed it himself yet- but his underdeveloped, childish body is starting to quite earnestly respond to Cassarah’s teasing with a growing arousal, barely-developed instincts and hormones driving Percy into Cassarah’s trap.

Cassarah propped her head on her hand, and use the other to beckon the boy closer with an outstretched finger. Her smoldering, blue-eyed gaze might have been difficult to look away from, were it not for the veritable acres of cleavage and enormous, pregnant belly in full view, gleaming under the midday sun. Cassarah hadn't even applied any lotion -it wasn't something she had ever seemed to need even after getting so big- by the tautness of her stomach had given her blemish-less skin something of an alluring sheen all the same. There was hardly any room on that deck chair for even herself, but Cassarah did her best to slide to the very edge, just so that Percy could crawl aboard and find a comfortable place to curl up against her and her pillowy bust. Milk had been the deciding factor, and sharing it was Cassarah's first move, but she kept eyeing the boy's body with anticipation of even more, afterwards. If all went well, perhaps even she would get to have some fun...

"I really do. Had to pour some in the sink, just last night. They fill up so fast...so there should be plenty for you to have..." , Cassarah murmured, moving her hands towards her top to unveil it once more. As she had hastily stowed her breasts the first time around, her enormous bra had been left unfastened, and immediately dropped to the grass below when it was freed. Soon, Percy was getting an eyeful of the inverted-nipple-topped tit* that glistened with fresh milk to share...

"Just pick one side...and have as much as you like..."

The slender pre-teen carefully sits in the space she’s made for him, flushing as he finds himself quite crammed up against her full firm belly and pliable chest. No matter how he sits, part of him is leaning on that sun-kissed swell. The young boy tries not to focus on how nice it feels to have his fingers on her skin- and instead stares at her inverted nipples, swallowing.

“F-.. fine, okay, I just..”

His fingers reach out and take one breast- and visibly, he struggles to heft it up towards his lips. After a moment or two of struggling, Percy puts it down with a grumble and instead leans in- his cute young body pressing flush against her bare skin, as his lips latch onto her breast- and he begins to suck. The sight of a child, thin fingers on her body, his small frame devoted to suckling milk from her bared chest- it certainly doesn’t get much more depraved than this. In real time, Cassarah can feel the small tent in his trousers prodding against her pregnant swell, as Percy moans against her breast- immediately feeling a warm, tingling heat in his core as the creamy milk passes his lips. What started as a hesitant suckling soon becomes desperate gorging, as he gulps down milk as fast as he can- some of it spilling from the corners of his lips as he attacks her chest ravenously for the hormone-infused milk.

It wasn't a stretch to claim that each of Cassarah's breasts were larger than Percy's head. If she were so inclined, it would not have been difficult to wrap them around the boy's skull, and utterly bury him within her cleavage. The thought amused the brood-laden blonde, but she refrained from acting upon it, if only to not risk scaring Percy away before he truly got to see things her way. That meant enlightening him with the taste of her own milk, a drink she could attest to as being genuinely delicious. Thankfully, once the boy had gotten a firm grip on her sensitive chest, it didn't take long for him to start to drink. What came as a surprise...was the enthusiasm that followed.

"Oh...? Oh! Y-you must really like milk...! Nnnh!", Cassarah gasped, shuddering from the pleasure of nursing such an enthusiastic 'baby'. What started with reluctance became unbridled guzzling, Percy seemingly doing all he could to drink as much as he possibly could. Squeezing the breast, groping it, anything to increase the flow of sweet, warm cream across his tongue. Cassarah did her best to aid the boy in that matter, holding her chest to keep it steady, but the pleasure that spiked her mind and senses left her every bit as aroused as he was. Without even realizing it, she was grinding that enormous belly of hers against his body, while an erotic suckling noise filled the air. Cassarah remained ignorant of just how special her milk truly was...or how constantly feeding others was just going to encourage her body to make more in the days and weeks ahead...

"Aauh...t-that's it...drink up...I have so much...more than any cow..."

Percy only slows his lurid suckling by pulling free from one breast, leaving the once-inverted nipple bared and loose, as he pants to recover spent breaths. Lips still wet with the creamy goodness, Cassarah feels the way his body has responded to her eager grinding- the slender, youthful frame cuddling against hers- and moreover, shifting his hips faintly so more of her vast expanse grinds on the growing, budding outline of his prepubescent shaft. It's warm, twitching faintly against the bare surface of her skin- as Percy pants. staring up at Cassarah with a deep flush to his cheeks.

"I-.. haa, it tastes d-different to cow milk.." He mumbles, his greedy fingers soon turning to her other breast- and without any prelude this time, Percy turns his thoughts to savaging that other breast with his lips and teeth- soon suckling her inverted nipple out, and groaning with contentment as the lurid flow of milk spills down his throat some more. His motions are not practiced like her brothers, they are amateur, unpracticed and desperate. Nails clawing at her skin in an effort to apply pressure and squeeze more from her body, lips failing to suckle with proper rhythm- leading to a lurid plethora of suckles, gasps and mewls to escape the boy as he sinks further and further into his helpless, growing addiction. He drinks deeply of each breast, and finally pulls free a few minutes later- a trail of milk on his cheeks as he stares up at Cassarah with a deep, lusty flush.

"I-.. th-think I am full.. mgh.." He mumbles, licking his lips and sinking down into her cleavage with a sigh of contentment. His slender youthful body still breathing deeply, chest rising and falling as he's sprawled across her tit* and belly- the angry, pulsing shape of his fully hard boy-co*ck still prodding her belly through the fabric of his trousers.

Enticing Percy to drink from her had turned out to be an incredible success, rewarding Cassarah with that blissful feeling of nursing another that she was growing to appreciate. More than that, however, the sheer depravity of the whole situation had sent a delightful sensation tingling up her spine. Cassarah had never imagined she would be seducing grade school children, not once, but twice! Percy might not have been as cute as Terry, but he was just as fun to tease...and she had a good feeling he'd feel just as good to have with her...should he prove up to the task. Cassarah broached the subject with the preteen, all while cuddling him close, one hand affectionately ruffling his hair.

"That's a good boy. Didn't let it go to waste. Oh? But is that all you wanted to do? Sure, you could head home, or even take a nap right here with me. Buuut..", Cassarah paused, her hand snaking down to the twitching shaft that had been so insistently poking the far end of her gravid stomach, "...it seems at least a part of you wants to have more fun. What do you think? Did you want to play a special, adult game with me, while you're here...?"

Still breathing heavily in the effort to recover from his prodigious milking binge, Percy peers up at Cassarah with visible confusion- before breathing out a high-pitched whimper of pleasure, as her fingers glide and stroke his poor throbbing boyco*ck, laced with sticky fluid and hot to the touch. He shudders, confusion battling with lust as he stares up at the immense pregnant woman.

“What-.. what kind of adult g-game..?” He manages to ask breathily, twitching all over with every little ministration she gives to his tender, sensitive shaft- that throbs eagerly through his trousers for more, despite how Cassarah can clearly see how even her teasing has brought him close to the brink. For all his rudeness and eagerness, Percy isn’t quite the workhorse that Terry was- by the mess building in his trousers, he’ll be quite the quick shot by the time they are done.

"Why, the game that makes babies, of course...", Cassarah purred, not showing a hint of shame over being so seductive to a boy a fraction of her age. In her reclined position, her hands drifted towards the waistband of those erotic, denim cutoffs that she had pulled over her hips, the short-shorts that could not even hope to zip up and fasten with a belly like hers in the way. As such, they had been clinging to her hips as unzipped as possible, making them all the more sensual. James had liked the look before he left, Cassarah had a feeling Percy liked the sight of them, too. They proved tricky to tug back off of her hips, with how tight a fit it was. But once they were out of the way, her sex was bared, ready for Percy. Naturally, she hadn't bothered wearing panties today.

"Right...here. Put it right here, and make us both feel really good. You think you feel good now? Just wait until you try 'this' game, Percy. Now, why don't you come to big Sis Cass...?"

The movements of the fresh-faced young boy shift from lethargy and confusion to something more energetic. He carefully sits up with some difficulty- with Cassarah taking up more than most of the sunbed. He eventually needs to stand, if only to manoeuvre behind her hips to properly align with her from behind.

"In.. hha, in t-there.." He mumbles, hands sinking into the plush behind now exposed to him. The slender, lithe fingers of a prepubescent boy exploring her. And as he does, and her hips are spread to expose her most vulnerable core to him- and his own cute trousers are tugged down by his own fingers, to allow the firm, angry shape of his throbbing member to bob free. It's wet with his own arousal, the tip slick with copious pre- the slender shaft twitching in the open air as Percy looks about nervously.

".. How- um, how l-long does this game take? I need t-to put the- nnghhh.." His question is quite cut off by a long, pained sigh of relief as he leans forward- and the tip of his shaft kisses her entrance, the first inch of his painfully aroused co*ck throbbing within her tight folds. Percy is lost in the feeling, and his hips slowly sink his shaft deeper and deeper within her folds- halting when they bottom out at her own hips, filling her belly with the pulsing heat of a child's boy-co*ck.

There was another, perverse shudder from Cassarah the moment Percy slid into her, the blonde unrepentant as ever. Normally, she would be able to full embrace Percy, to pull him into her chest, and hold him close until the moment he finished. But that wasn't possible in her current condition, not with her middle so large, round, and unyielding. Like a great beach ball between them, it kept them at arm's length from one another, even as Percy slid his twitching shaft inside. He was, however, able to press himself up against that big belly, that maternal mountain, one that utterly blocked Cassarah's view of Percy when he was complying with her depraved desires. She made sure to reward him for his good behavior by wrapping her long legs around his waist, and encouraging him to push that co*ck of his as deep inside of her as he could. Cassarah didn't need to be told that the boy was unlikely to last long. The way it throbbed spoke volumes as to Percy being on a hair-trigger by this point.

Cassarah, her hormonal body worked up into another frenzy, began to grope her own breasts and stroke the sides of her belly as eagerly awaited the big moment from a not-so-big partner.

"That's it, Percy. Now...just pump your hips. Do it as much as you like, as fast as you like! You'll know when to stop..."

Her earlier observation quickly proves itself true, as Percy’s slender fingers do their best to grip and hold onto Cassarah’s hips. Finding much purchase, the young boy nods- even though Cassarah cannot see it. “Oh.. haa, okay..” He mumbles, nails digging into her thighs as he shifts his weight- and begins the sloppy, messy affair of properly breeding a pregnant woman all over again. That tender boyco*ck messily slaps in and out of her depths, the bulging shape angrily pulsing and bulging in her folds as it begins to prepare for its inevitable release. Lost in the strange feelings and urge to continue, Percy fights on regardless of his bodies warning signs- filling the open air with the messy slaps of their lurid lovemaking. And, just below where his hips slap into hers- she can feel the bulbous, heavy weight of two overly packed sacks of his virile swimmers slapping against her rear- recently engorged with the powerful enhancements within her drug-laced milk. And, the sheer quality of that cargo is soon put to the test, as Percy leans back with one last lurid gasp- and starts stuffing Cassarah with his eager seed.

Lances of the thick, warm slurry of breeding material splash into the depths of Cassarah’s belly, her prone body doing wonders for the eager shapes to press through her vulnerable cervix and up into the vast swell of her glutted womb, overripe with growing contents. Even as Percy continues to thump his hips against hers in the spasming bursts of his ongoing org*sm, the first of many swimmers start to roughly attack the pregnant woman’s ovaries- stoking the flames of her own hyper production, as the washing waves of hungry seed begin to attack and bond with her impossibly many eggs, pulses of pregnancy lacing her belly with toe-curling floods of heat and pressure right under the surface of her belly, where those eggs are released.
And, those lacing pulses of her belly recognizing each perverse pregnancy of a child not even half her age, conclude after twenty-four flushes of pregnant heat throughout her womb- as yet another obscene brood begins to bloat out her belly.

So occupied, and yet, room for more still. Cassarah's womb, like the woman herself, had become nigh-insatiable, taking everything that was sent its way and asking for more. With a boy less than half her age humping against her, Cassarah was seeded again, taking not one, or two, but two dozen of the boy's brats into her womb to grow with all the rest. That feeling of being seeded, it was the reward that Cassarah coveted, the prize for all her efforts. It didn't matter that she was incorrect in thinking that she couldn't get more pregnant, the sensation that flowed out from that massive, perfect womb was all that mattered. When Percy fired off his load, Cassarah was put into a lusty hazy, moaning and writhing on her back, basking in the raw depravity of it all. She rubbed her tightening belly, which bulged beneath her palms. She squeezed her engorged breasts, still sloshing with milk that had yet to be drunk. And she clenched Percy, both outside of her body and within it, until she was absolutely certain he had no more seed to spare.

"Mhm...wasn't that...fun, Percy? Ah, but I kept you too long. You better head back home, soon, before your parents wonder where you've been. Oh, and this is a secret between...just the two of us, alright...?", Cassarah huffed, bending against her belly and craning her neck just to actually see the boy that she had just bedded, right out in the open air. As fun as it was to think about keeping him around, he had already mentioned being pressed for time, and Cassarah imagined that she could do well enough on her own, now that she had gotten her kicks.

...That might have been the case...had she not been drinking so much of her own milk. As it happened, it was only the first encounter Cassarah had that day, with James out in town...

Finally, with one last struggle- Percy pulls free from Cassarah’s clenching grip, after no small amount of embracing. He is sweaty and flushed still- but nods faintly. “I-.. I really should, uh..” He carefully re-does his trousers up and stares at Cassarah’s leaking, plush hips with a deeply troubled, and wanting expression, before standing up at last.

He bends over and tugs his shoes back on, spinning back to the lounging, recently bred woman behind him with a flush.

“How-.. how long are you staying here for? Could we.. play the adult game some more, later?” He asks in a squeaky, nervous voice- eyes flickering between her face and her gravid, lurid body- hands pressing down on his slowly-softening member within his trousers.

Cassarah rolled over on that deck chair she had been lounging -and breeding- in, getting a better look at Percy and giving him a better look at the woman that he had just bedded. With a lascivious smile, Cassarah ran her palm across her massive, bare belly, up to her breast, hoisted it, and allowed it to fall back into place with an audible slap of flesh against flesh. "You liked the adult game? Mhm, I'd be happy to play with you again...I'm staying for...mhm...about a week, or so. It'd be a shame to just only play once...", Cassarah hummed, not at all dismissive of the idea. With how good it all felt, she could hardly bring herself to say no. And when Percy wasn't being all bratty and talking about how babies were gross, well, he made for a pretty cute kid, too. Cassarah could already see herself working in one more round of fun before she went back to the city.

"Come by again sometime, when my brother isn't around, and I'll see what we can do, alright?"

With that, the boy makes his way back home and off the ranch- leaving Cassarah with fresh cum in her belly and with time to bask in that rich afterglow, until hopefully her brother returns later that day. He has been gone for a while, and even with her urges so recently met.. there’s a budding, blossoming.. want, bubbling under the surface. A restless hunger that conjures images of James.. Percy.. Duke, back to her mind.

The fields around the ranch are beautiful, with animals grazing and plodding the paddocks in their own time as the lazy sun bakes the grass dry. Out on the western side, a long building with faded creamy white paint stands, tall and defiant against the woes of time. The barn to accompany the house, where animals are kept out of mischief. The doors are open to see several stalls, most of which are empty as many animals are out- enjoying grazing and roaming to their hearts content.

One animal however is not grazing, nor roaming. Pacing restlessly in its stall is a massive chestnut stallion, rippling and powerfully built. The massive horse trots restlessly in its stall, snout sniffing at the air as it whinny’s and snorts. Rather drawing attention to itself as that long equine head returns several time to the front of the stall, craning out towards the entrance- especially at the sound of another’s approach.

Cassarah had, to the best of her ability, been trying to relax. After all the fun she had with Percy, she thought for sure that she would be satisfied, that she would be able to bask in the sun and just enjoy herself, like she ought to, being on vacation. And yet, as Cassarah reclined on that chair, alone, that pesky sense of need had bubbled right back up, making it night impossible to get any actual rest. She was just stuck with this desire to plunge her fingers between her legs, or better yet, find a man to plunge something else there, instead. It was enough to prompt Cassarah to get up and walk about the spacious ground of her old family ranch, to reacquaint herself with what she remembered, and to see what had changed over the years since James was in charge.

The barn that caught Cassarah's eye was the same, even if the color, and its inhabitants, weren't. Cassarah hadn't actually asked James just how many animals he kept on the ranch, but she came across a certain one of them, right there in the barn. A big, burly stallion, one that a younger Cassarah might have thought about riding, was huffing and snorting in its stall. When Cassarah strolled up to greet the hardy horse, she saw why it seemed jut as restless as she did. It's equine shaft was fully erect, in what Cassarah didn't know was a direct response to picking up on the scent of the most fertile female there ever was. Getting close enough to see it got Cassarah's own head swimming, and although she knew it to be so very taboo, she began to strip herself right in that barn, and position some haybales in which to proper herself on. As soon as preparations had been made, the outlandishly pregnant blonde undid the padlock to the stallion's stall, and worked quickly to get back into place.

"You poor thing...you just need some relief...just...like me..."

Its hard to say how long it’s been. It’s hard to breathe. Her body has gone numb from pleasure. All she sees is the thin fibers of hay her face is pressed into, and all she smells is barnyard, summer, sweat and cum. Mostly that last one. The source is frankly, evident.

And it makes itself known yet again- as the poor folds of Cassarah’s pregnant puss* are brutally forced wide to squeeze around that massive, bulging equine co*ck. Thick and trembling with power and desire, it’s obvious that this isn’t just any stallion- but a rutting stallion, made to breed a whole herd of mares silly with his potent seed. Seed that now splatters and splashes to the floor of the barn around them, nearly ankle-deep in the thick, warm slurry of genes. With a sloppy, wet slurp Cassarah feels that battering-ram of a co*ck slide into her again- bulging out her belly and insides in the thick shape of a horses co*ck, as a familiar dangerous shudder runs all up and down that messy, cum-slick girth. All the bunching, lathered muscle of the horse presses down on her back as the horse continues to mount her- legs up on the stall in front of her, as those powerful hindquarters start messily slapping down into her fat hips again- taut, thick muscle of the horses hips loudly smacking against her prodigious rear- forcing Cassarah to slump on her own belly as she is f*cked over her stomach in a haze of breeding and stuffing with horse-cum. A promise of yet more seed on the horizon, as the fat turgid shaft of her current partners massive horse co*ck throbs with an approaching eagerness, the horse above her whinnying and snorting with agitation.

The stallion...proved to be a more worthy partner than Cassarah had ever anticipated. It had clearly showed interest in her when it was still penned, but up until it was driving that flared, equine shaft in between her legs and battering the entrance to her womb, Cassarah wasn't entirely certain that it would 'bite'. She was shown the error in her way of thinking, again and again, as the stallion didn't hold anything back in its attempts to breed her like a pedigree mare. It bucked it's powerful body, stirred up her insides, and loosed a torrent of hot cum into her belly...more times than once. Stallions weren't known for their stamina, but what it lacked in how long it could last between loads, it just made up with the quantity of loads it had to give. Even Cassarah was left astonished, and dazed, from just how much the stallion pounded and pumped into her, sending her belly bulging out against her thighs, larger than ever. It churned with all that seed, doing its best to find a spot for the newest arrivals, even as Cassarah remained ignorant as to her own capabilities as a broodmare.

She'd be putting broodmares to shame, by the time her chestnut-colored stud was finished.

Distantly, a sound does cut through the messy sounds of horse-grunting and hips plapping together. The sound of gravel being crunched underneath tires, as the distant noise of a truck driving up the gravel path to the ranch carries to the open door of the barn.

Clearly, the stallion pays it no heed- and indeed for good reason, as Cassarah can feel the heavy breeder slapping into her hips from behind bulging throughout his co*ck with a growing, fresh onslaught of virile horse-cum to add to the gurgling mass already visibly bloating her belly out. Her ovaries are practically afire with a buzz of pleasure from the constant slosh of seed being splashed across her overactive egg factories, sporadic lances of pleasure escaping as each egg is claimed by her stallion partner. And, as those massive stallion hips press flush into her rump one last time- the last of that stallions vigor is expended into the cavernous depths of her voracious womb. The fresh eruption of horse-cum gurgles and sloshes in her belly with a liquid weight, some splash-back from the last few messy thrusts gush down her thighs onto the ground, adding to the messy mass on the barn floor, filling the space around Cassarah with the thick smell of a stallions breeding musk. And finally that pillar of gurgling, bulging horse-co*ck erupts from her insides with a messy slurp, the stallion trotting slowly back towards its pen and the water trough within, to replace some of the copious liquids it has spent utterly breeding Cassarah to her limits.

It was the sound of tires-on-gravel that woke Cassarah up from her oversexed stupor, one that might have otherwise lasted for several hours longer. Cassarah didn't know it, but she had become a future mother to a future herd of little colts and fillies, that rutting stallion pumping no less than twenty-six foals into her womb, all over the course of a single session. The sheer amount of seed the blonde was forced to take in ensured that she looked larger already, her belly stuck out further than it ever had, looking more like a great, skin-colored balloon. But despite all the churning noises that it made, it was very much a solid thing, heavy and cumbersome. Cassarah had to muster all the strength she had to will her body to move, and even then, she was forced into dire straits, a need to clean herself up at least a little before her brother could find out about what had transpired here. She had crossed countless lines in her depravity, but sharing that she bedded animals had yet to be one of them!

With her skin coated in cum, sweat, and other juices, it fell to her to wash up, utilizing a frightfully cold hose that was meant to wash down the animals to give herself a quick rinse. The iciness of the water did much to restore her clarity, and get her moving to put her clothes on again. That sleeveless top and pair of short-short, the latter felt tighter than ever, but as she heard James' voice in the distance, Cassarah became very motivated to tug it into place. In the end, she emerged from the barn rinsed off, but hardly smelling like flowers, something only a genuine shower could accomplish. Nevertheless, as she waddled out to seek James before James found her, she dearly hoped her brother wouldn't ask too many questions...

James was actually on his way down to the barn when he spies Cassarah on her way up. Already looking toasty and a bit sweaty from his shopping, his rich eyes blatantly roam Cass in her choice of clothes- admiring her obscene curves all over despite doing so earlier that day. When he approaches, he whistled softly- as Cassarah’s churning, glorping stomach meets him with a low slosh of horse-cum settling in her obscene belly.

“I wasn’t gone /that/ long and you’re already this hungry.. good thing I practically bought the bakery and butcher out of a job today.” James smirks at her, putting a rough, calloused hand up against her taut stomach, giving it a playful rub right around her shallow, taut navel.

“You’re looking even bigger than this morning. Sure you’re not gonna pop those kids out later this week?” He snickers, knowing exactly what his hands on her sensitive belly does to her- by the teasing, sultry little smile on his lips.

In a demonstration that their first night together hadn't been a one-off affair, James greeted Cassarah with the playful flirtations of a newlywed, rather than the platonic easing of a sibling. Cassarah, who had only just got down from getting pounded by a horse more times than she could count, thought she would be somewhat resilient to her brother's touch. That did not turn out to be the case, when he ran his fingers across her bare belly, and making a particular show out of playing with her sensitive, shallow navel. Cassarah was squirming in her brother's embrace in no time at all, and pawing his strong chest just as he played with her tremendous belly.

"Hungry...yes. What can I say...I'm a...growing girl. Mhm, you don't seem to upset to see me...bigger. Has this been your type, all along...?", Cassarah shot back, eyeing her brother's reaction. "Well, I've told you already, I'm only in the second trimester. I've plenty of growing yet to do..."

Her fingers find plentiful purchase on her brothers tanned, firm chest- as he chuckles- letting her paw and play all she wants, as his fingers slowly eke down into the shallow bowl of her navel- teasing at the sensitive skin within. His familiar smirk remains on his lips at her words, and as he abruptly kisses her cheeks and pulls away, leaving her flustered and heated behind him- as he leads the way up towards the ranch.

"Now now, I grew up with you through puberty. At that point who is going to compare? And then you visit my ranch even curvier than before.. I mean, damn Cassarah. What was I meant to do?" He flirts back, lacing his tanned arms behind his head right as he leads the way up onto the ranch. "And, I dunno. Maybe it's just how you make that belly look. You certainly like showing it off, leaving it out to be pawed and played with." He throws the doors open, and the smell of fresh bread immediately hits Cassarah's nose. James wasn't lying about buying the bakery out.

"But before I f*ck your brains out through your hips, maybe get a meal in there for the little ones." James hums casually, sauntering toward the kitchen with hardly a care to the words he just spoke- aside from a faint, hungry grin- and eyes that always linger on Cassarah when they can.

"A real Romeo, you are. But yeah, I'd say a meal is more than warranted. Eating for just more than two, you know...", Cassarah smirked, her own imagination falling far, far short of the incredible truth that gestated within that womb. Ironically, she felt like she was hungry enough for hundreds, which was about as close to the truth as she would actually get. Unlike what she did when her brother wasn't around, her growing appetite was no secret. She was eating more than ever, and miraculously, almost all of it when to her offspring. What didn't only seemed to pad out that luscious rear of hers, or fuel the milk-makers up top.

But Cassarah got a reminder as to just how much she had grown in such a short amount of time when she passed through that front door of the ranch house. Before, she had little clearance. Now, her belly rubbed against the sides as she waddled on through, illustrating just how much larger it had gotten in the span of just a day or so. Cassarah tried to make a mental note to take care around the doorways and narrower corridors of the ranch house as to not to get stuck, but that was almost immediately forgotten when the smell of delicious food filled her senses and really got her stomach grumbling. Eating was getting a little tricky nowadays, with her unable to sit directly facing a table without her belly getting in the way, but a little creativity, or a little help, had a way of getting around such troubles...

She catches James' snicker when she almost gets stuck in the door, but her brother dutifully heads to the kitchens while Cassarah makes herself comfortable. And soon, the scent of fresh bread is joined by the scent of creamy butter, salted meats and some fresh fruits. It's a true buffet, but of course with her current state- it leaves Cassarah in a bit of an awkward situation for consuming the platters. When James emerges from the kitchens with all the food, he seems to realize the problem fairly quickly- smirking to himself.

"Need to be careful- eat too much and you might not fit out the door to the bedroom.." James teases, as he sets up on the couch beside her- and rather tenderly, rests the platter on her belly to hand meat-loaded slices of bread up to Cassarah, so far from her own lips. Either into her waiting fingers, or to her lips. His other hand seems to find itself truly taken with the vast bulk of her belly on display, never quite able to take his hands off it. Those broad fingers always find their way to the spots where her stomach is most taut, exploring and gently pressing on them- testing how elastic the skin has become- hardly, by now. Not to mention where his eyes like to wander. He /really/ likes her sleeveless top.

For a brief moment, there had been a somewhat perturbed look upon Cassarah's face when her brother playfully set a plate of food -the first course of many- atop her belly, rather than on the nearby table like a normal person would do. It felt a little patronizing, the thought of being hand-fed by another. But that unpleasant feeling disappeared all-too quickly when James actually got around to pushing one delicious morsel after another to her full, soft lips. Not only was it convenient, having James so close kept his hands upon her body, adding a delightful sensation to the mix. Cassarah was even left wondering if the food somehow tasted better, just because it had been hand-fed to her. She definitely ate everything that was sent her way, and with her hands free, she was able to keep them to her stomach, rubbing her immense belly in small circles as if to will the life within her to grow big and healthy.

Meanwhile, her forearms kept rubbing against her overly-ample bust, squishing the mounds together in a move that was enticing as it was inadvertent. Before James had returned, Cassarah had shared and drank much of her own milk, and yet, each breast seemed just as large and luscious as ever, a pair of decedent, ripe fruits, suspended in a hammock of a tiny, tiny top. Paired with those scandalously short-shorts that couldn't even been seen around her belly at some angles, Cassarah looked less the independent businesswoman she fashioned herself as, and more a born and bred country girl. One that was getting bigger by the day.

"Mhm...you keep making food this good, I just might not fit. You trying to...aauh...keep me here...?"

Her brother breathes out a husky little chuckle, studying his sister bemusedly as he polishes off the last of that platter, placing it to one side- where he can then devote both hands to a slow, steady massage applied to the taut skin. Rubbing the taut flesh in long, firm circles that roll and soothe the flesh of her vast stomach.

“Already seen to the bottom of my master scheme, I see. Doesn’t seem to have slowed you down at all, though..” James muses with a dry snicker, thumbs massaging around her shallow navel in lazy, slow circles as he pampers her vast belly.

“Would it be so bad, though? Lounging feet from the kitchen, hardly able to move, being doted on by a lovely cook.. I can think of folks that’d kill for that. And they aren’t looking to rival a small spa with their capacity.” His calloused fingers finish their massage, lifting away as he smirks at her, a hungry look to him, the way he’s pressed his firm body to hers doing little to disguise his intent.

Cassarah had little choice other than to squirm in her creaking seat, which protested beneath her not-inconsequential weight. When James felt her up, it just felt that good. Whether it was places she expected, like her breasts, or places that had been surprisingly pleasant -like her navel- it all left her closing her eyes and getting submersed in pleasure. Something about James', as joking as it was, turned Cassarah on in ways she had never anticipated. Being so big as to just, sit around and be pampered, it made her recall that one dream she had, where she was had been some ancient queen, waited on by devoted servants. Just conjuring the image in her mind again had Cassarah biting her lower lip, stifling a moan. She hadn't purposefully gotten knocked up, it had been a freak accident from a partner she thought she was safe with.

So how come she enjoyed feeling so big, so much?

The answer escaped Cassarah, but one thing she was certain of, was that she was definitely 'in the mood', now. She gazed at her very own brother with a smoldering, lustful look in her eyes, and licked her lips.

"Feed me the rest you got here...and you can bend me over your stove."

James flushes at the blatant offer, inhaling sharply through his nose- before he wears a co*cky grin. “We’ll see if you still can, by the time I’m finished.” He mutters back in reply, giving her stomach a hearty squeeze with one palm. He rises, and returns to the kitchen for the rest of the meal.

Over the course of the next half hour, her brother gradually brings out more prepared meals- some salted, some freshly seared. All dutifully served up by his hand to her waiting stomach, alongside careful rubs and sardonic, playful flirting. Eventually his supply of ready food runs dry, and with him laying against her swollen gut- she can feel from the virile bulge pressing up against the underside of her swell, that he’s certainly thinking about her promise. The hand pampering her belly finally lifts away, as James leans over her stomach- the feeling of his chiselled stomach brushing against her skin, as he offers his hands to help you up.

“Time for the moment of truth. Feeling very mobile, dear sister of mine?”

It was clear from the start that Cassarah's top could not, under any circ*mstances, be completely pulled over her belly. The sleeveless garment was simple too small, and her pregnant middle that large. That didn't stop Cassarah from trying, less as a sincere attempt to cover up, and more of a way to show just how much bigger she was getting, from the food alone. At the start, the top could be dragged over a small fraction of her belly, a portion of its' upper hemisphere. By the time that they had run out of everything that James had cooked, not even that could be managed, and it appeared a few inches had been added to that incredible maternity's width in the process.

So it was easy to see why James questioned whether Cassarah could even stand up, anymore. All that food hadn't disappeared, it had made a massive-mother-to-be even larger. But in an act of defiance, Cassarah mustered the deceptive strength in her legs, planted her palm on the dining table by her side, and pushed herself to a stand...with only a little bit of help from James. Once she was up, and her chest had stopped quaking and slapping against her stomach, Cassarah stretched her back, and looked over towards the kitchen. She waddled right over towards the stove like some sort barefoot-and-pregnant housewife...and did exactly as she said she would. She bent over that stove, and waved her sumptuous backside in James' direction.

"Mobile enough for this. Now, help me out of these tiny shorts enough so I can express my thanks for the meal..."

And James ogles her like a husband enjoying a barefoot wife in his own home. Watching every sauntering step, and the affect it has on that truly vast belly. He licks his lips with a low hum of approval, and approaches her- his weathered fingers tracing up her full thighs, to the awfully stretched out short-shorts.

“Barely though.. and, honestly getting these down is..” He grunts, and gives those shorts a firm tug. A bit of motion. He pulls again, grunting with exertion. And though they loosen and slip, there is a very palpable groan and tearing of seams in the process. James stares as the partially ripped shorts drop down to the floor, snickering softly as his hands sink into her plush rump, spreading her hips wide.

“My word.. already putting those calories to work I see.” He hums bemusedly, one hand sliding away- and with the groaning sound of an overtaxed zipper spilling open, she feels the fat, throbbing mass of her brothers virile co*ck slap into her hips.

“Haa.. it was getting painful keeping it in. Time to work off some of those extra pounds.” He grins, and taking both hands to her, he spreads her hips wide again- and drives into her with a long, rough thrust. It was less than an hour ago that her insides were being railed by the swollen mass of a horse co*ck, and a few hours before by a literal child. And now she’s being f*cked by her own brother, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen he just used to stuff and pamper her. Taking out his lust on her, James ruts into her rear with passionate, but slow rolling motions. Letting her feel every long inch of his bulging manhood throbbing within, the heavy pair of swollen orbs slapping into the underside of his belly, as his hands wrap around and grip her stomach for stability.

“.. f*ck. You really look the part of a country girl now, fat with kids, barefoot and bent over in the kitchen. Thought you moved to the city to get away from your roots.” He teases lustily, between the firm thrusts with his co*ckmeat deep into her hips.

"Guess I can't...completely get away from the country, huh...?", Cassarah quipped back, shuddering when her own brother thrust his co*ck into her aching womanhood. She had held still when her brother fought against the tiny, tiny shorts on her hips in order to strip them off enough to gain access. Before they were forcibly wrenched off of her wide, childbearing hips, James had been able to see just how small they were on Cassarah, unable to be zipped up in the slightest, and causing luscious thigh and rear to bulge around the sturdy fabric. Now, the garment was half-torn on the floor, and Cassarah had further spread out her stance to welcome James deep within. Her massive belly dipped low in front of her in her bent-over position, clearly visible even from behind. It rubbed against the front of the stove, just as Cassarah's enormous breasts flopped against its' top. It was that flopping that called Cassarah's attention towards her acres of cleavage, spurring not only words, but action, as well.

"...even...putting dairy cows to shame, at this rate. Speaking of which...I...nnh...could use something to quench my thirst...", Cassarah murmured, acutely aware as to just how thirsty her throat felt...and how full her chest still was. It didn't matter that her own brother had mounted her, and was pounding the entrance to her oh-so occupied womb. Cassarah fished out one of her own breasts from that scandalously small top, hoisted it up, and wrapped her lips around the damp nipple. She didn't hesitate for a moment, knowing full well that her brother could see her...suckling from herself.

And what neither of them knew, was that thanks to a steady supply of 'supplements' from her doctor...Cassarah milk had retained a potency unlike anything anyone had ever seen before.

“ I don’t know whether to be in awe, or jealous..” her brother mutters softly over her shoulder, momentarily lost in the vision of his sister, suckling from her own swollen breast. Even if his mind isn’t made up, his body is. Reflected by the way, he takes his hands, grabbing at the sensitive skin, just above her hips, holding tightly. Her brother pulls back and then make sure that Cassarah knows full well how he feels about her turgid, engorged body, filled with the seed of men, boys, hounds, stallions, and even her own brother.

The obscene sound of their mating echoes through the ranch, and could not be tolerated back in the city. For the simple reason that the sound of her brothers massive, virile, hormone-enhanced girth, slapping into her fattened, bouncy hips, creates a sound, so lurid and intense, that when joined by his groans and her wailing moans- anyone within a city block would know exactly what the pair were doing.

“Make s.. sure, to spare.. some for me. Gonna need a drink, once I’m done filling your.. ghh! Y-your fat gut with more seed.. ‘cause I intend to keep you up.. all goddamn night.” He growls, even as the faint slosh of his overfull balls echoes with each slap of his heavy thrusts into her. They are overly swollen with the weight of last nights drink from the tap, as it were- ready to fill Cassarah with overeager swimmers to breed her eggs all over again. And he isn’t far off- judging by the way his poor co*ck pulses and throbs deep in her belly. She can feel it burgeoning, swelling, struggling to hold out against the sheer lurid temptation of his sister- a temptation that rapidly causes his morale to falter, with the approaching shudders of a violent climax.

Cassarah was kept right in place where she needed to be, James having hooked his arms around her wide, wide hips in the act of screwing her where they stood. Adding to the carnal cacophony was the sound of pots and pans rattling, a consequence of getting the oven to shake in their reckless lovemaking. Had they been anywhere more densely populated than the rural outskirts of the family ranch, they would have certainly been caught in the most depraved of acts, raw fornication between direct siblings. Cassarah surprised herself with how little acknowledging the depraved act actually bothered her. It seemed as if all that she truly cared about was whether or not it could feel good at the time, and leave her satisfied. With toe-curling pleasure spiking up her spine with every throb of her only brother's thick co*ck, it looked to be a safe bet that she would not be disappointed.

"I'm gonna..mhm...hold you to that, you know. If there's anything I hate, it's...ahm...being let down.", Cassarah purred, between sensual smacks of her lips, which paused their wanton suckling periodically in order to speak. Despite everything that Cassarah had done in a single day, seducing Percy and one of the stallions, she was already looking forward to several rounds with her own brother. Even she could tell that her libido wasn't anything like it once was, something Cassarah reasoned had to be due to pesky pregnancy hormones.

Pregnancy hormones that had been, unknowingly, supercharged through a certain supplement, anyway.

And stretch on the night does. Taking her first over the stove, James pumps into her womb, full to the brim of already with meals and children. That massive virile co*ck of his seeding her fertile belly with yet more material. But that is hardly the end. The thick smell of cum, sweat and milk fills the lounge of their ranch that night. The living room will never quite be the same. The reason for that is quite simple.

A nearly endless loop of pleasure and satisfaction consumes the two siblings that night. First, James rails Cassarah up against the nearest soft or hard surface- pounding into her rump to the point it’s reddened from repeated impacts. Her insides are molded in the shape of his virile, meaty member- repeatedly forced to clench and squeeze his throbbing co*ckmeat, suckling his swollen balls dry every single time, greedily guzzling down his loads of messy, hungry swimmers. And when he is finished- James circles around to her front, and takes her swollen breasts- drinking deeply from her reserves of rich, creamy, hormone-infused milk. And each time he does, those balls swell again until he finds himself re-invigorated. And so, the loop continues. From the kitchen, to the dining table, to the sofa, to the fireplace, even out to the long glass windows- where their steamy lovemaking fogs up the cool glass, that otherwise reflects Cassarah- letting her truly appreciate her brothers lust-filled want, his firm, muscled chest and arms- the only reason he can manhandle a woman like herself. And in the same way she gets to see just how swollen, just how big she’s become. And in the warped, fogging glass- she can picture just how much bigger she might become.

By the time his work is done, the sun has set- and the moon is long into its journey across the sky. It is a beautifully dark, and quiet night- as the lurid, noisy symphony of her breeding session comes to a final close, their naked bodies wrapped in one another’s arms, as they slumber peacefully throughout the rest of the night.

And all throughout. With each load dumped into her growing belly, she feels those same pulses of heat. Of breeding, from her overtaxed ovaries. Because her brothers virile seed, and her own overdosing on the same fertility formula, has transformed them into truly obscene egg-factories. Heat lances across her belly, over and over again- as the combined mass of million, billions of her brothers swimming seed press eagerly, desperately onto her eggs. Lances of warmth as every egg she could possibly release is rapidly stuffed with his cum, and transformed into a fresh baby to begin swelling, and filling out her massive baby bump. Over, and over, and over those throbs of pleasure from being bred leave her belly toasty and pulsing, even as the siblings are exhausted and put to sleep. Even while she rests, her body is bred by the remaining seed sloshing within her womb.
As they settle to sleep, and the night passes in blissful, pleasurable slumber.. the last few pulses of her wombs relentless breeding.. bring the final count of such pleasurable heat, to fifty-one eggs being stuffed with incestuous seed.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

James made good on his word that night, that much was made evident. A marathon of raw, carnal mating defined the rest of the evening, with the two blonde siblings occasionally changing things up through trying new positions and locations throughout the ranch house. And yet, one thing remained consistent between Cassarah and James, and that was the utter lack of protection, inevitably culmination in another load of potent spunk pumped into her womb at point-blank range. Thanks to what Cassarah had yet to learn was the significance of her own, chemically-altered milk supply, James had demonstrated an ability to return for multiple rounds, spaced only by a span of a handful of minutes. And without fail, those waves of swimmers struck home, implanting themselves in the absurd amount of eggs Cassarah's brood-bearing belly continued to produce en masse. She had little idea that pleasant tingle and odd gurgle that echoed from her enormous stomach was yet another successful conception chain, her brood multiplying at a pace that no other human had ever gotten close to. All she could think about was how incredible it had all been, when she eventually retired for the night on her brother's bed, her own brother cuddling her from behind and her audible belly taking up an impressive amount of the available space on that king-sized mattress.

By the time that dawn had arrived, all the freshly-fertilized eggs had begun the process of becoming children proper, over fifty, just from James alone. Cassarah was slow to rise, all-too happy to savor the feeling of just lounging on something comfortable, and feeling her swollen figure that had come so far. Equally appreciated was having another feel it, any she eagerly encouraged her brother's exploring hands. What had started as a visit to inform her sibling on her pregnancy out of obligation had become a lot more fun in just a couple days into stay. She still had the rest of the week before she returned to work.

---

Percy is finally freed! After a near week of grueling work after he was late back to his chores, he’s finally ahead of the curve today. And with his morning tasks completed bright and early.. the boy decides he can chance it again. The adult game he played earlier in the week, with that buxom, blonde lady. The one he hadn't been able to stop thinking about, ever since she first beckoned him over that fence and showed him so many things. Therefore, the moment he finished his work, the slender child ran through the paddocks separating their farms, arriving at the large ranch house that he knows is housing the woman he’s been fantasizing about all week. But, as he circles the home in slow, searching steps, he sees no signs of her. Not out seeing the farm, or sunbathing, like before.

Percy tries to quash his disappointment. After waiting all week to see her again, and she might have already left to return for the city. He kicks a stone, trying to ignore the painful pulsing in his trousers. Ever since he drank that milk of hers...something has been different. His body has been hot, and.. he’s felt an urge to touch himself in special ways. And his pants...they once fit nice and snug, but now, they hug a pair of stuffed, overly full orbs- faintly bulging the fabric around his hips with their shape. Percy sighs, preparing to leave, when he hears...something from in the house. Curiosity and hope worm their way into his chest, and the young boy swiftly slinks over to a window, doing his best to peer inside and search for the source of the noise.

It had been a number of days out on the farm, and naturally, Cassarah had found the need to clean herself. She was all too aware that, on top of all the dust and dirt of the ranch, she in particularly had been indulging in a number of activities that...left her in need of a wash. And so, Cassarah had borrowed her brother's large bath tub, utilizing it when he was once again away with a drive into the nearest town. It was a task that was easier said than done, for Cassarah knew more than anyone as to just how much her pregnant figure had been growing, as of late. No doubt in part due to the lavish portion sizes she had been enjoying since her stay, it felt like her waistline was gaining inches by the day. And that was not to speak of her chest, filling and refilling with fresh, creamy milk at an astonishing rate. Cassarah was finding her chest utterly engorged with milk with increasing frequency, milking sessions were becoming more common just to keep the supply in check.

Together, Cassarah's voluptuousness was on an entirely different level, just as the water in the tub rose to a different level when she carefully lowered herself into that porcelain bath. Astonishingly, her belly rubbed against the sides of the tub, immense enough to touch opposite ends width-wise at the same time. But just as Cassarah was marveling at this development, she heard a rapping near the front door, protected by a screen. James wasn't due back for hours, and so, there was only one person Cassarah could think of as to who would visit at this odd hour. With the door to the bathroom having been left wide open, the blonde allowed her voice to go the distance that she could not.

"Oh? Percy, is that you, out front? I was hoping I would see you at least one more time. Come in, the front door is unlocked..."

The boy flushes with an immediate excitement. She is here! Percy calls back quickly, trying and failing to suppress a trill of happiness to his tone.

“I- Ill be right there!” His high, youthful tone reaches Cassarah, soon followed by the pattern of footsteps. He is polite enough to take his boots off at the door, but not polite enough to halt his gawking. Because the boy frankly, stares in disbelief at the woman in the tub he’s now presented with. His eyes struggle to find a single place to stop and focus, from the vast swell of her glutted belly, to the twin obscene peaks of her indulged breasts. Flushing hotly in his cheeks, and his trousers doing little to disguise the many thoughts her body puts into his head- the young boy stumbles a step into the bathroom, mouth hanging wide as he stares at a pregnant goddess.

“.. H.. hi, uh, Cass…” The words rumble from his lips, barely suffused with any thought- compared to all the work his brain is doing, cementing the view of her massive baby bump into his mind forever.

Cassarah greeted the boy with a smile from her spot within the tub, both hands seductively sweeping across her immense middle. He had seen her sunbathing, wearing very little and being so very forward with him. But in the several days that they had been apart, even he could see that she had grown. Bigger up top, fuller, and so much larger around the middle. As before, there wasn't a single stretch mark or blemish to slight her perfect skin, which glistened in the soapy water that was repeatedly poured over it. The tub had been large enough so that a normal woman would not have been able to see her abdomen above the water line. Cassarah, on the other hand, she possessed a pregnant belly that jutted out from that soapy sea like a private island, or some mythical whale, a great, pink-white mass that appeared to occasionally ripple in response to her own touch. At the far end was a shallow, shallow navel, looking poised to one day invert itself. In short, Cassarah was massive.

"Hey, Percy. I was just taking a bath, as you can see. Would you...like to join me? There's so many places I can't reach, anymore. I'll be sure to make it up to you. Were you...thirsty, by any chance...?", Cassarah asked with a playful purse of her lips, her hands snaking upward to her chest, which she hoisted in a blatant display of seduction. Each breast was far more than a single hand could handle, she had to utilize her forearms to keep the billowing, bulging, breasts up where the boy could see them. And even then, they wobbled and quaked, threatening to slip from the buxom blonde's grip...

"Though, if you don't want to, I'd understand. I'm so very big, now...you must think this is weird, huh?"

The thin child is utterly gobsmacked by the sight of her. Totally and utterly entranced, that he only snaps out of it when she starts flouncing her body at him, taunting him with those milk-filled breasts. In a trance, Percy steps to the edge of the overfull tub, and gulps. Hands extend, and simply feel her massive belly- as if confirming it’s real. And Percy instinctively shudders as he realizes it very much is, his delicate, childish fingers feeling her shallow navel up in the process.

“You’re so.. um.. so much bigger now. How did you.. how did you?” Percy stammers out the question, eyes wandering to her similarly swollen tit*, cheeks flushing red with lust, and hunger briefly battling with his nerves. And the other thing battling, very visibly to the swollen mother, is his co*ck- battling with those trousers of his to erupt free. She can ogle that boyco*ck all she likes, with the way it leaves a firm, fat indent in his cute shorts- utterly unsuited to containing a significantly more manly endowment that a boy should have. In fact.. it is bigger than it was before, as well. Slightly, sure, but definitely so. Fat, and musky, throbbing through the thin fabric that separates it from her bare belly, mere inches from slapping against her vast flank.

"Must be because I eat all my vegetables.", Cassarah playfully quipped, thinking back to the many, hearty meals that her brother had prepared and provided her. Vegetables were definitely involved, but it was more the sheer amount of food that she could put away that had Cassarah believing that was the primary cause to her marked growth. She could not even fathom the idea that, after all this time, she was only more fertile than she had been before she had been pregnant, and that every partner had been adding onto profound pregnancy in progress. In the back of the buxom blonde's mind, there were definitely some nagging doubts with just how big she was getting, but they were continually silenced by the clean bill of health that her doctor had provided her. Clearly, it was just her imagination.

"Me being bigger...that's not a problem, is it, Percy? That I'm so round and full of babies?", Cassarah continued to tease, sweeping her hands over her great, glistening gut with every stressed word. She watched Percy strip down with great interest from within the tub, eager to see the boy join her in the water. It would undoubtedly be a tight fit, her belly was vast enough to bridge one edge of the bathtub to the other, but it was what she wanted most right now, above all. When she pushed one of her nipples right up to her lips, she made a show of what he had been missing out on, these past few days.

"Oh, and full of milk, too, of course...mhm..."

Percy nervously finishes tugging off his clothing. He began with his vest and shirt, loosing both to reveal his boyish, slender frame with a hint of chub to his abdomen. Decidedly young, boyish. Reminding Cassarah just how wrong she was to take advantage of him. But how delectable it was indeed.. as he drops his trousers, and his boyco*ck erupts out. Two heavy orbs filled with virile seed sway beneath his burgeoning shaft, that slaps into the flank of her belly as he awkwardly climbs into the tub.

He settles at the opposite end, squished against the far side. The water threatens to slosh out of the tub with the two of them inside, churning as the boy struggles to settle- leaving his co*ck rubbing against her belly more and more as he fidgets and shifts, and his shaft only gets fatter and harder.

“.. Y-you wanted a wash, right? Then I get milk..?” His hands start to work, taking a lather of body wash, and he starts vigorously applying it to her vast bulk. It gurgles and echoes as his delicate hands press with surprising force into her bulk, the tightly packed flesh being rubbed and massages by Percy’s lathered hands, stroking and exploring the vast mass of her body-dominating swell. She could easily fit Percy inside herself by now, and perhaps more than that. And Percy knows it, flushing hotly and hugging her vast pregnant swell, his boyish body hugging and pressing against her toasty womb.. his co*ck simply can’t get any more aroused by her.

"Nnh...y-yes, a wash, and then you get all the milk you want...and perhaps...mhm...something else, too..." Cassarah huffed, unable to disguise the genuine pleasure that flowed through her with the impromptu massage. She was massive to the point of barely being able to move herself from within that bathtub, and it was for that very reason she had discovered there was a lot she had trouble reaching. Anything too far out on that beachball of a belly was beyond the attention of her hands and fingers, which essentially amount to the furthest half. That, was left for Percy to tend to, rubbing in soapy water to give Cassarah the cleanse she sought.

But as the businesswoman's body became cleaner, her thoughts only grew dirtier. Cassarah wriggled her hips with what little clearance she had, not only fixated on nursing Percy like a baby again, but having him inside of her, like he had when the two of them had been out in the open air. Underneath the bathwater and increasingly blocked by the breadth of her belly, Cassarah's sex ached with anticipation. It certainly didn't hurt that Percy was more endowed than what was typical for a boy his age...

"...like perhaps...our baby-making game...?"

Percy flushes warmly, and gives a little nod in response- both hands tending to her shallow navel. “.. I’d like that.” He murmurs with repressed lust, as his fingers leave the last of her belly wet with suds. Percy leans away, panting, trying to ignore the heat and tension in his groin, in the swollen hog slapping against Cassarah’s belly.

He stands up to try claim his prize, but soon discovers an issue. A large, sud covered one. He swallows faintly. “.. Ah.. I think you’re.. too big. How am I going to get to your boobies? Your belly is all in the way..” He says, genuinely puzzled by the problem now in his way. His hands ghost her curves, heavy and round. “.. It’s so round, and firm.. I don’t think I could climb over it. Could I sit on it..? It’s just so fat, and large..” Percy mumbles, none too quietly, turning more petulant as he realises his promised milk is quite thoroughly out of reach.

Percy had done a job well done. Cassarah might not have been able to see her own stomach, but just from the feeling of what had been scrubbed, she was convinced that Percy had held up on his end of their little deal. So when she realized that compensating the boy wouldn't be so easy, it gave Cassarah pause. She wasn't the type of woman to go back out on her own word. Cassarah pondered the matter, all while sinking her fingers into her luscious breasts, groping herself in full view of Percy without a hint of shame. Eventually she came to a conclusion that worked well enough for her purposes.

"In fact...I think you can. While other mommies would be too small, I'm not like other mommies, am I? Get right on top here, and pick which side you wish to drink from. They're both still so very full...", Cassarah hummed, beckoning Percy over with an outstretched finger. Her arms went to support her breasts, the other part of her body that had grown so much over these last few months. She had lost count of how many cup sizes she had surged right through since she first knew that she was pregnant. Each breast had to have been in the latter end of the alphabet! Bra shopping was definitely in her future...

“If.. if you’re sure..” Percy mumbles, as his hands slowly mount her impressive belly. And, slowly but surely.. Percy climbs up. His co*ck is squished against her tummy the whole while as he crawls on his belly, across her immensely taut skin. And it groans in soft protest as such a heavy weight is pressed down on it, the contents shifting as hundreds of children settle and slowly grow within. But, step by step, hand over hand, Percy mounts her mountain of a belly, and ascends to the twin peaks of her obscene cow-udders. He flushes at the sight of them, pushed up towards him, and his delicate fingers reach up to cusp one tit, bringing the nipple to his lips. “.. they’re bigger than cows udders.. the ones on my farm are smaller..” He whispers in awe, co*ck throbbing as it’s sandwiches between him and her belly, arching against her skin. And he lifts that nipple to his lips, then begins to suckle the sweet, delicious cream from within. He isn’t rough like her brother. The young boy isn’t here to maul her tit*, he’s here to nurse from them. And so, he does.

Although Cassarah had invited Percy, there had been some doubts as to whether or not she could truly support him atop her pregnant middle. There were unborn within her stomach, and it wasn't something to me rough with. And yet, it proved to be every bit as firm and unyielding as it had felt to the touch, unbothered by the weight of a boy that would be entering middle school in a few years. Cassarah was simply that large, and unknowingly, that packed with her brood, that no problems arose from having Percy climb atop it to get his drink.

And get his drink he did, for as soon as Percy was in range, he latched right into one of Cassarah's tremendous tit*, and began to gulp down warm, sweet milk as fast as it flowed across his tongue. Up until that moment, the bathroom had been fairly quiet, defined by the sound of water sloshing against the tub and their respective bodies. But not only had a sensual suckling joined in with Percy guzzling all that milk, Cassarah couldn't keep herself from tilting her head back and moaning, he act of feeding another so very wondrous. She leaned back and allowed Percy to drink all that he wished, switching from tit to tit as he saw fit. All she did was keep her 'udders' stead, and occasionally reach down to rub her belly when the temptation to mount that kid grew and grew...

"Mhm...I can put cows to shame, hrm? And to think, they just keep getting...bigger..."

She feels the young kid struggling to keep his balance atop her belly, with how ravenously he continues to attack her udders. Foregoing any response to her egging on, Percy simply suckles, gulps, and swallows down dose after dose of her potent milk. With each gulp, his swollen shaft burgeons and grows- thickening, and stiffening- until it is finally stiff enough to rise, firm and full, off the surface of her belly- pointed down towards the deep valley of her cleavage.

Percy leans away with a gasp. Her breasts are mauled by red marks from his vigorous suckling, his hands still helping to heft her prodigious bust, slender hands creeping all over her body, as her captive child stares lovingly at her fecund body.

“.. When are you, you.. gonna stop..?” He can’t help but ask, eyes trailing up to meet Cassarah’s own. “.. It isn’t sore, or troublesome..? You.. you like being even bigger?” There's a sense of shock, awe, to his words. Like he can’t quite believe a woman like Cassarah exists.

"Oh, it'll all end eventually. The little ones will have to come out eventually...", Cassarah began, playfully tracing a circle across her enormous stomach with an outstretched finger. When she spoke, she thought of her offspring that she knew of, the indeterminate number of Duke's pups that she carried, ignorant that they had gotten many additional siblings in the months that followed. As such, although Cassarah was correct in that it was inevitable that she would one day give birth, she had little idea just how pregnant she would still be when the oldest of her children were ready to emerge. Literally hundreds had been formed after them, all at different times. And thanks to her rampant libido, that number hadn't stopped growing right alongside her waistline...even if she was ignorant of that fact.

"...and I would confess, being so big can be troublesome, at times. This bath here is such a tight fit...", Cassarah purred, somehow even making complaints sound like a sensual tease, "...but when it feels this good to be this big, well, it's hard to not like it, Percy. Speaking of which...", the blonde paused once more, her blue eyes drifting towards that larger-than-expected co*ck which had been insistingly prodding her maternal middle, "...I don't seem to be the only one who 'likes' this. Did you want the other part of your reward? If so, just sit in the other end of the bath, and let Cass take care of the rest..."

Percy wears the soft, delicate flush of a flustered child well. Her crooning words melt any hesitation he might have been clinging to, leaving only the fire in his belly Cassarah has been fanning this whole time. “I.. thought it would be all problems. Not that it would feel.. good..” He says softly, gulping and slowly retreating off the vast swell of her stomach. Back down into the waters- clearly taking up her offer.

“.. I couldn’t.. stop thinking about you. In those clothes, from before. After the last time we played together. I wanted to come back. But now I’m here, you’re /so/ much bigger.. all over. I.. I like it a lot.” The young boy clearly struggles to find the right words- unused to his bodies own desperate desires. But at least one part of the boy is not childish. Because even while sitting, the swollen tip of that burgeoning shaft pokes out from the foamy waters. Pink, sensitive, and visibly more swollen than during their last tryst. Unbeknownst to then, the hormones pumping through his body are already making changes. Turning him into an even more potent, dangerous breeder. He leans back, anticipation gleaming in his gaze- as his shaft throbs faintly with need, just below the surface.

Cassarah didn't need to be told that, in her current position, having more 'fun' with Percy was utterly impossible. She was seated on her end of the bathtub, her bountiful bust and massive middle utterly dominating the space directly in front of her. Access to that spot between her legs where she needed Percy the most was utterly obscured. And so, Cassarah moved. It wasn't easy, her belly truly was getting wedged in the tub by virtue of just how immense it was, but soap and water did much to allow her to 'pop' out with a bit of a push, her arms pressing down on the sides of the tub in tandem. Once Cassarah was free and looming over little Percy like a great moon, she took her time pivoting herself around and showing the kid the plush backside he hadn't seen much of, today.

It was beneath Cassarah's long hair that her rear resided, ripe and round, if a distant third to all the curves up front. That butt was, however, easily the most luscious that Percy had ever seen, and it would be brought down on the small boy when Cassarah lower herself down upon his lap. Only by having her back to Percy, could he enter her while still in the tub, and so, Cassarah did the work, aligning her body with his, her sex with his erect co*ck. It was a tight fit, especially when her belly began to rub against the inner walls of the bathtub all over again, but soon, Cassarah was feeling the boy's shaft start to glide inward, pointed right towards her womb. That sensation alone got Cassarah to start stroking her belly, as if some part of her knew just how productive she really was.

"There we go. Do let me know if I'm too...heavy. Let's get lots of practice in making babies, again. And as a bonus, Percy, you can feel me wherever you like..."

The position they’ve found themselves in, leaves little for Percy to do in response to her weight dropping. But he hardly needs to. The water cushions the worst of the weight, and Cassarah hears his shuddering gasp as her insides hug and squeeze his throbbing, firm co*ck. It spreads her inner folds nicely, stuffing her hips full with his warm shaft- and his hands helplessly wrap around her as she settles in his lap. Nothing but her muscles squeezing serve to stimulate him, but with the vast pregnant form in his lap- he needs nothing more.

“When.. when you’ve finished giving birth to these babies, then.. will you.. will you let me fill you up next? If I practice enough..?” He asks, innocent to the knowledge she’s already been bred with more than dozens of his children already. A soft, lustful whimper, as his hands move to caress the object of his obsession. That vast, swollen belly. One he can’t help but imagine stuffing full the next time she finds her loins aching. His childish fingers caress her belly lovingly, filled with awe.. almost innocent, we’re it not for his panting mewls, and hormone-fattened co*ck, throbbing and pulsing in the depths of her slit.

"Oh, babies and pregnant women stopped being 'gross' now? Well, I'll have to think about it. That does sound like it could be fun...", Cassarah hummed, sweeping her hands across that titanic tummy of hers, pouring soapy water across it's taut surface in the process. Like a great pearl, that brood-bearing belly had a polished sheen, which had it shine even in the relatively dim light of the bathroom. A flutter came from deep within as Cassarah playfully mused about having Percy's children, like her very unborn were casting their vote. She wasn't seriously thinking she would come all the way out just have a ten-year-old's babies, but she also didn't know that was something that had already begun. Barring several months of the strictest abstinence, it seemed unlikely that Cassarah would find her waistline shrinking down anytime soon.

Rather than dwell on supposed impossibilities, however, Cassarah seized upon Percy's newfound enthusiasm, an entirely different angle in which to tease and tempt. She kept of that co*ck of his nestled deep, so impressively close to the entrance to her womb for his age, where she liked it best. But even as she slowly rocked her overly fertile self upon a boy a fraction of her age, she kept talking, finding the idea of making Percy a dad -in jest- so very entertaining.

"You want to make a bunch of babies with me, hm? Should I be calling you 'papa', already? Ooh, I can feel you twitching. I bet you want to try and make me even bigger the next time. Maybe, maybe I'll just have to visit the countryside more often..."

She feels his co*ck throb in earnest agreement with her sentiment. The thick girth of it already feels like it’s approaching a first eruption, throbbing eagerly in her depths, as Percy pants. She can’t see his face, forced to flatten him against the back of the tub with her rump- but the child is almost salivating at the idea, even as his cheeks burn. “.. pa.. pa-papa, me.. I-I couldn’t..” He mumbles, even as his hips twitch and spasm below the surface of the foamy waters. But they cannot budge Cassarah’s vast bulk, leaving him to feebly await his approaching climax with no thrusting assistance.

“.. I.. I’d love to see you more.. when you’re even bigger, and wider..” He gulps, hands trailing up and rather eagerly, viciously kneading into her massive tit*, sending spurts of milk down into the waters- hoisting her nipples back up towards her own lips again.

“.. S-so I know how much, hah.. b-bigger I’ll need to make you..” He almost whispers, in earnest agreement with her sentiment. An earnest agreement that causes that co*ck to shudder, twitching, throbbing, splashes of warm pre oozing into her belly. He trembles against her back, straining to contain, to store up the coming climax. “.. It’s.. a-about to happen again, Cass..!” The kiddo warns her, back arching against the tub- helpless moans spilling from his lips as her hips grind on his slender, boyish body- swallowing up half his torso, up to his belly button easily.

"O-oh! So eager...!", Cassarah huffed, finding Percy's adorable enthusiasm to be so very contagious. "I'll come back so much larger, milkier. I'll really start to make milk once the babies start getting born...", Cassarah began, emphasizing her point by hoisting what little of her tremendous breasts could fit on her palm. It was ultimately a wasted endeavor, as Percy could see very little of anything that was around Cassarah's fair back, relying mostly on his sense of touch. But where those breasts began, his fingers could reach, and stretch out to get a taste of the softness Cassarah got to grope every day.

That alone, might have been enough to push Percy over the edge, and dump that load of spunk Cassarah's hormone laden milk had strengthened. But not content to stop there, Cassarah wriggled her plush posterior upon Percy's lap, and filled his head with vivid imagery, to make up for what he couldn't see with his own two eyes at the moment.

"...and I'll come visit in a tiny bikini, so you'll be able to see just how much bigger I've gotten. So much in view! Go right ahead, 'papa' finish inside me, just like if you were really filling me with lots of your babies...give it all to me!"

Neither of the pair know just how true her words are. And with the desperate lust to stuff her fattening belly even further, even fuller of life than she is- in a fantasy that is all too real. His poor shaft finally can’t contain itself any longer, and with an eruption of warmth deep in her belly- Cassarah experiences the elation of once again, being bred.

Seed erupts into the narrow space between his swollen shaft and her womb entrance, and the sheer weight and pressure of it forces the virile baby batter through her narrow entrance deep into her overstuffed womb. Mere moment after that first eruption, Cassarah already feels the siren song of pleasure, the flashes of heat and warmth from an overproductive womb being swamped with wriggling, tiny swimmers. Her eggs are swarmed, attacked, and viciously impregnated over, and over again. Outside her vast, warm belly- poor Percy groans and spasms, arms hugging her belly from behind as his hips buck ineffectually into her plush rump. Desperate to dump every ounce of his fresh, and surprisingly filling load deep in her belly. It takes nearly a minute for his swollen breeding factories to finally relent, expelling the last of his glutted load into her obscene swell- and Percy leans back with a languid sigh of satisfaction, co*ck still throbbing deep in her belly- still rock hard, firm, and ready to seed her further, even as the rest of him slumps with satisfaction.

“.. Hah.. hah..” He swallows, hard, rubbing her belly with both hands. “.. Can’t.. wait to.. do it for real…” He mumbles softly, cuddling the massive milf-like woman in his lap.
Pulse, after lusty pulse fills her belly with heat. Eggs surrendering to a child’s virile load, aided by her own hyper-fertility. And once again, the young boy is made into a father. And once more, Cassarah dooms herself to an even fatter, rounder, more pregnant belly.

Even Cassarah was moved by the level of pleasure that struck her fertile form, all at once. When Percy fired off that tide of swimmers, Cassarah was once again treated to that specific sensation that had become like a drug to her, the feeling of her womb being filled. She couched such dangerous behavior in what she thought she knew about her own biology, that being pregnant prevented her from carrying any more until the first ones were born. Cassarah was wrong in that assumption after the first extra children were added to her brood-bearing belly, as well as wrong in every time that followed. In the bath with Percy was no different. In fact, with her body only growing more fertile, and influencing her partners, she was unwittingly only becoming even more incorrect in that assumption, the latest womb-stuffing load having started over twenty new lives within her belly, all at once.

Ignorant of this, Cassarah covetously stroked her colossal stomach, as if it would produce more of that wondrous feeling that she got whenever she was filled. She had to give it to Percy, for being so young, she could tell he loosed so much, it had caused her stomach to push out that much more before her. She was an even tighter fit in that tub than ever before, which ended up being Cassarah's excuse to linger atop Percy's lap until his co*ck could deflate some. It was so very tempting to egg the boy on into going all over again, but she knew that her brother was due to return home eventually...

"Mhm, I think you're be great at it..."

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

All good things have to come to an end, and as surprisingly wonderful as Cassarah's countryside visit had turned out to be, she ultimately had to make the trip back to the big city, and return to work. Even after extending her stay for a few days longer, it felt as if her vacation had ended all too quickly, between all the fun she had, and the days of eating James' incredible cooking. But every bit as serious as returning to work as ever, Cassarah made the long return trip home just a couple days before she was next expected back in the office. She ultimately had one full day of vacation, back in the city, and Cassarah felt it best to use it to decompress...and spend time with her wonderful dog, Duke.

Holed up in doggy-hotel for the duration of her visit, Duke was decidedly happy to see Cassarah return, looking larger than ever. After a couple weeks of hearty eating -and heartier breeding- Cassarah's waistline had hit record highs, and showed no signs of stopping as she entered the fifth month of her pregnancy. Well aware that it was likely best that she get some exercise after making a habit of eating so much, and needing to spend time with Duke, Cassarah opted to kill two birds with one stone by taking her Great Dane out on a long walk to the biggest dog park in the city. Almost all dog owners, particularly the ones in walking distance, brought their furry friends to that particular park, and Cassarah felt she'd do the same.

She had, however, underestimated the sort of attention she attracted, with her fertile figure so large. Having wriggled, tugged, and stretched her way into a massive sports bra and pair of yoga pants, Cassarah was certainly dressed appropriately for the occasion, but garnered stares like she was some sort of alien. Heads just seemed to turn when the most enormously pregnant blonde ever witnessed happened to waddle on by, in such form-fitting clothes.

The dog park is fairly sparse for visitors, during a work day. But the kids out with their parents, the occasional walkers strolling the park during their break.. even the staff that handle the park itself, making sure none of the roaming hounds cause trouble.. eyes just keep gravitating to the immensely gravid woman. Beside her, the massive hound paces regally. Duke was of course very happy to see his mate returned, and that first night was definitely.. eventful. But, he’s back to his usual protective self. As Cassarah gets deeper into the park, away from casual walkers.. the kinds of eyes on her begin to change.

From up the path, a cute spaniel pauses it’s roaming of the path to sniff the air, and it’s snout turns toward Cassarah. It sniffs again. Then carefully wanders off the path. The further Cassarah walks, the more.. hounds, that seem to be watching her. Their heads craning to follow her immense bulk. She must be imagining it, surely, as dogs of all sizes just.. watch her pass by.

Worse, as they slip out of view- Cassarah feels Duke headbutt her thigh. A low growling noise in his throat, as he weaves between her thickened legs, and sniffs at her hips. All behavior that Cassarah knows all too well. It begins gentle enough, but clearly Duke is feeling up to rutting her like a dog, here in the park. The interludes usually happen somewhere manageable, such as at home, but her massive hound is becoming quite insistent- the scent of his canine musk reaching her nose- only further signifying her poor hounds needs. He stares up at Cassarah with another soft rumbling sound, expectant.

What Cassarah -or any human for that matter- had yet to realize was that the dogs n the park were picking up on a certain scent, one that Cassarah had given off before, but was now radiating more strongly than ever before. It was the scent of fertility, not far removed from that of a female in heat. In what should have had no affect on those not of her own species, Cassarah's augmented, incredible omni-fertility had utterly changed all that. Just as Blaze, the horse on her brother's ranch, had grown restless with her mere presence in that barn, all the male dogs around Cassarah that caught wind of that fertile scent...were lured. It didn't help that, Duke's urging aside, Cassarah was feeling needy again, herself.

Hormones had already proven capable of spiking the blonde's libido at odd times, but on top of that, Cassarah had a number of other reasons to grapple with her ferocious lust. She felt the stares of so many others on her body, garnering attention in ways no other woman could. Her thighs, thickened by her extra weight and fertile figure filling out, rubbed together. And at five months in, Casssarah had noticed she could occasional feel movement within her tremendous womb. Mostly a gentle fluttering at this stage, but a lot of it, at that.

These factors had Cassarah all but panting, as Duke kept nudging her inner thigh, desiring her. And complied together, Cassarah's will to resist began to crumble. She peered around for the more forested area of the park, one where dog-owners rarely went to or lingered...a place where she could obtain some semblance of cover. She had yet to notice how a growing number of dogs were heading in the same direction...

"H-here too, Duke!? F-fine, j-just...hold on..."

Knees in the dirt. Belly splayed out in the mud. A familiar feeling for the blonde doggy-slu*t. She’s found herself sequestered in a small grove off the path, and the mounting was instant. Duke’s paws are on her back, his hips up mounting her vast rear. And with a practiced rhythm of feral, breeding efficiency- Duke leans into her rump and absolutely buries his red, knotted doggy co*ck in her slit. It’s been so long.. but her body remember the one that bred it first, intimately. The clearing is soon filled with the obscene sound of breeding. Her body is too soft, too pliant to be quiet. The sound of Duke’s toned hindquarters slapping into her ass echoes loudly, the wet squelch of her human puss* being messily spread by a red doggy co*ck.

His rhythm is rough but familiar, tailored to f*cking her fecund body in just the way she loves. They rock in a familiar, loving rhythm- hound and mate, his howling wails filling the park- even if she wished to be left alone. But they do more than simply fill the air. As she feels her hounds co*ck swelling, the knot beginning to pulse and fatten- announcing an impending climax.. she also feels more.. eyes, on her. The spaniel from earlier slowly paces from the woods, and sits- watching. Then, a Labrador with a messy coat howls in a low tone, watching with pricked up ears. Hounds.. some wearing collars, and others not- begin to congregate, watching, examining- as a thick bed of doggy spunk erupts in her belly. Bent over as she is, spasms of heat and breeding flood out from her ovaries, as Duke’s knot ensure that her womb doesn’t let a drop escape, as he pounds every last drop deep in her thick, sloshing belly. She is bred. Even if she doesn’t know- her body does. And so does every other hound, sniffing the air for the pheromones on the wind.. licking their lips. As Duke dismounts, satisfied.. that Labrador approaches. Sniffing, mounting her hips. Clawing at her fat rump.

Cassarah was no stranger to being mounted by Duke at this point. It was something she did often, away from prying eyes. But while their positions may have been practiced and routine, the circ*mstances around them were not. The first thing Cassarah noticed, was just how present her belly was, when she was down on all fours. Once, her middle swayed above the ground, a good ways from touching much of anything. Now, having grown so much, her belly firmly pressed into the ground, creating a divot with it's unyielding presence. It was almost like balancing across an oversized yoga ball, and it truly hammered home just how large she had gotten. No less impressive, was her chest, wobbling atop that belly and blocking a good portion of her view up front. Cassarah might have been milking herself with increasing frequency, but her breasts remains as enormous and engorged as ever, already filled to the point where she could feel the creamy bounty within slosh about with Duke's mating.

Duke, in his usual fashion, wasted no time on word, nor foreplay. He mounting his 'mate' right then and there, and thrusted like the animal he was until the inevitable climax came, and he dumped a great load of spunk right into that womb had had claimed countless times before. Cassarah, half-delirious from the delightful rush of what she didn't realize was another successful breeding, didn't even notice the Labrador move into Duke's place, once her own hound had finished. It took until she felt a very different kind of fur pressed against her body to realize that it wasn't her own dog that was mounting her, anymore!

"Ah...D-duke, we shouldn't do it so much...w-wait, you're not Duke! W-wh...where did all these dogs come from...!?"

The Labrador’s collar jingles- she gets just a moment to spot the golden labs name- Cuddles, before she feels a fresh, new doggy-co*ck slide down into her rump. And for the first time Cassarah gets to learn the wonderful, sheer breadth that doggy co*cks can have. The Labrador is smaller than Duke in all ways- not quite digging out the depths of her the way he does. But, this hound is more slender. Quicker. And the sound emanating from her rapidly reddening buttocks is much quicker, as this thrusting rhythm focuses on f*cking her fast. Her poor slit is barraged by Cuddles’ slender red co*ck, knot already puffing up. Digging out her slit, still oozing with Duke’s seed from before. And god, Cuddles doesn’t slow down in the slightest.

She feels it coming. Only a minute and a half after Duke seeded her belly with his load, already- she feels it build up, swell.. and erupt. Gushes of hot doggy cum, swimming with animal sperm, rushes down her yawning entrance to her womb. And that addictive heat floods her belly again. Throbbing as Duke and Cuddles sperm compete, writing in her belly for first dibs to her eggs. And before the shuddering throbs of breeding from Duke even cease, a fresh wave of erupting warmth billows out from her belly. Cuddles uses her like a breeding sow- and stuffs her belly with his pups, swollen and sloshing. And with a lurid pop- that slender knot spurts from her womb, and the hound climbs off her rump. Seed runs from her slit, doggy cum pooling under her. And that does not deter the growing crowd. More and more hounds are gathering, drawn by the howls, the moans, the pheromones. The next to mount her is that slim spaniel- it has to fully leap onto her back, not tall enough to rut her from the ground. But that doesn’t stop the brave spaniel- Rocket, according to his collar. It doesn’t slow him down as his shorter, but thicker dog-co*ck already starts to slide down into her oozing slit.

Cuddles may have been the perfect, family dog with his owners, but in getting hopped up on the fertile pheromones that radiated from Cassarah he had become a family-making dog in short order. Mere moments after Duke had gotten his fill, that Labrador had slotted right in to breed the blonde businesswoman just as fiercely. There was no consideration of foreplay or teasing, not among canine kind. Cassarah's furry friend focused entirely on mating, driving that knotted co*ck in as deep as possible as quickly as possible, until a resulting splurt assured him of a job well done. And yet, for Cassarah, still on all fours, her trials had just begun.

Assaulted with mind-numbing pleasure, and feeling heavy in the belly while she also felt week in the legs, Cassarah was in no position to push herself back upright. And in staying right on the dirt floor of the shaded area of the park, rear high in the air, she presented herself for the next dog to mount her like the first two had. It was a smaller one to be certain, but what he lacked in mass, he more than made up in enthusiasm. The dog, apparently named Rocket, humped away with all his might, slapping his body against Cassarah's fecund figure and broad backside. The sensation of being taken was almost as grand as the one she had grown to crave -that of being filled- and Cassarah arched her back, lustful moans slipping from her lips. But being used by three different canines hadn't put a damper on that overwhelming fertile scent that the local hounds could pick up on. If anything, all the excitement -and Cassarah's state of undress- had merely allowed it to spread even farther...

It's growing harder and harder to keep track. Both of time, and of numbers. The mind-numbing scent of dog-seed spilt into the soil around her and onto her, the feral howls that seem to echo on and on, as her inviting scent brings yet more hounds to her. None of them are particularly slow in their efforts to breed the prone, super-fertile dog-slu*t laid out in their territory, but Cassarah simply gets no breaks. Sometimes her ears are filled with the snarls and snaps of a feral dog, other times she hears the contrasting jingle of a dogs collar as it humps into her fertile hips with reckless abandon. She is used. Again, and again, and again, her body weighed down by the sheer volume her hips are bred by, the impossible heat of who-knows how much breeding lancing through her belly. Maybe hundreds of hounds have left their varied, knotted, fat co*cks to dump squirming loads of virile swimmers in her. Sampling the many varied shafts of every dog within a few miles, stray or owned.

But, that impossible warmth and senseless delirium is broken up by something familiar for once. Drenched and stuffed with countless hounds seed, her body raw and aching from such repetitive breeding- her insides are invaded by a familiar knotted co*ck. Paws mount her back, scratching against bare skin to find purchase. And the familiar scent of her faithful hound fills her nose, as Duke mounts her for a second time. Even as some hounds laze or depart, the throng thinning and steadily draining.. it seems that Duke never abandoned his mate. And now that the tide of animals has seemingly lessened, her hound seems intent to make quite clear who she belongs to. As such, his throbbing doggy-co*ck slams into her cervix, and makes her hips bounce as that perfect red rocket slaps in and out of her hips, the shaggy fur brushing against her bare back, as Duke pants and growls against her ear- rutting Cassarah into cum-drenched soil, for one last breeding frenzy.

Cassarah felt that, perhaps, she should have been keeping track with just how many random mutts she was fooling around with, just how many dogs had seen fit to use her like some communal breeding bitch. And yet, she had not, thinking only at the time of how wonderful it was to feel those throbbing shafts slide between her legs, batter her womb, and eventually a hot load of swimmers pointed straight towards her womb. A womb that, unknowingly, had continued to accumulate new occupants, new offspring, with every wave of spunk pumped into it. Cassarah could only sense just that it all felt so good, and with the difficulty she had in getting up, it hadn't been all that hard to convince her that just passively waiting the rush out was better in the long run. At one point, Cassarah even seemed to encourage the roaming canines, petting the ones that sniffed and prodded her around her front half, where her breasts had been hard at work moisturizing the bark-strewn planter around a nearby tree. Those dogs were rather adorable, after all.

But even after taking so many, Cassarah could always realize when her dog was back in the proverbial saddle. Every length -like its owner- had been unique, and there was no mistaking Duke's great shaft, as well as the forceful way he hooked his forepaws around her hips to drive his knotted shaft to where it belonged.

"Oh! D-duke! You must have really missed me! I'm sorry for being on vacation for so long!", Cassarah gasped, recalling that she had yet to be back longer than she had been gone, since returning from her vacation. Whether Duke understood her words or not, it wasn't clear, but what was evident, was he was determined as ever to have another round with his mate, refusing to entertain the thought of pulling out before copulation had finished...

Even as he begins to rut his mate into the soft loam, Cassarah feels that cute cold nose nuzzle against her neck, the tongue lapping at her cheek even as he ruts her like an animal should. Grunts and snarls seem directed outward, not toward her- warding away the remaining hounds waiting for their next shot at a thorough breeding. And he ruts Cassarah well- that massive doggy-co*ck hollowing out her insides with every powerful thrust, his taut muscled form slapping against her overwhelming softness, as her mutt, drunk on his owners pheromones, rails into her rump with increasing force- the slick red bulge of his doggy-co*ck slamming in and out of her hips with lurid squelches.

It doesn’t take much longer for Cassarah to feel it coming. The familiar throbs of heat through that lusty, bulging tool. The way it swells and bucks, the way Duke loses his composure- slumping onto her as his hips buck helplessly. The way his knot inflates to seal her puss* shut, ensuring every single drip of his virile spunk ends up drowning her poor ovaries in overactive swimmers.

It comes in a deluge that sends fresh lances of breeding heat through her belly. Duke breeds her for a second time today, slumping against her back with a whining sigh as he thoroughly stuffs her womb with his doggy-seed. Slowly, that knot begins to deflate, the hound exhausted by his activities. Almost imperiously, Duke regards the remaining mutts- still waiting for their own second round, and a few that had just arrived. And with imperious judgement, the hound relents- dismounting off his owner, to begin the cycle anew.

An hour and a half passes in delirium and breeding.

The lights are dimming as the sun begins to sink. Finally, Cassarah properly begins to rouse. Her belly is still throbbing with more eggs being found by all the cum still sloshing in her belly, surprising her every twenty seconds or so with a throb of pleasant heat. But the dogs are gone- done with rutting her into a stupor. Duke lays by her front, resting easily with attentive eyes- staring calmly, but patiently at Cassarah as she begins to awaken.

Cassarah had, once again, lost track of time in the wake of unfettered breeding. Before, it had always been within the safety and privacy of a home, hers or her brother's, but going so far and for so long in the open was novel for the big-bellied blonde pushing herself up out of the dirt. It wasn't easy, she was sore from the claw-scratching that came with so many dogs trying to climb atop her, she aches in a number of places for having gone for so long without a break. But the weight up front proved most difficult of all. Cassarah was already far heavier than she should be. She knew it, and was made continually aware of it with every step she took. But following a mass-breeding session with countless canines, her belly wasn't just far larger than it had been just hours prior, it was weightier, sloshing about like a tremendous water balloon. It was almost as if not a single drop of all that seed had escaped, culminating in gallons, overall. When Cassarah struggled to get her exercise clothes back into place over her bust and backside, she did so with a hand placed on her lower back.

Eventually, however Cassarah forced her way through the aches and focused her attention on more productive. If Duke's litter was so large, she was definitely going to have to get more strength work outs in on a daily basis. She was committed, after all, to returning to work as long as possible before even considering maternity leave. With that in mind, and a busy rest of the week ahead of her, Cassarah gently pulled Duke along by his leash, and pondered where her free-weights were stored in her home, ignorant that nearly three hundred new lives were taking root within that perfect womb...

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

It's the middle of the morning hours. A droll, and boring Monday. The kind where the steady beat of lifeless fluorescent light seems to cling to the skin with the humidity. The cloud cover outside isn't any better- a turbulent grey that somehow doesn't stop any of the wet heat from seeping through to the ground below. On a muggy morning like this, Martin takes his break a few minutes early- to slip away from his cubicle.

Martin has cleaned up a bit. Ever since getting quite the confidence booster a month and change back, his hair is less messy, his plain and drab business shirt and slacks has been changed out for something smarter. All in all, he's been in a relatively good mood- save for lacking a certain.. landmark in the office. Especially on such a muggy, sullen day, the pressure gets to the young man, so he slips down to the lobby for an iced coffee.

So, leaning back to replenish his energy and enjoy his drink, Martins eyes wander, his mind drifting away from spreadsheets and IT, and instead to certain.. wishful thoughts. Wondering after the health and.. development of a certain colleague. A soft smile on his face as he enjoys his drink, and the brief reprieve from the office slog.

It was mere chance that Martin just so happened to be in the ground floor lobby at that very moment, just as it happened to be a stroke of luck the very colleague he had been thinking of just happened to be disembarking from a limousine, parked outside. Disembarking being the operative word, for like a mighty ship or inspiring zeppelin, there was nothing insignificant about the woman that slowly emerged from the side door opened so very wide. From a distance, Cassarah's presence caught the eye, almost demanded attention. She had worn white, a new, custom suit that could fit around even her figure, and as such, was a tremendous, bright shape that encouraged further investigation. But even a casual glance revealed that it was not some odd prop or bizarre rig that had attributed to that presence...it was the what had to be the most outlandish, absurdly pregnant figure the world had seen.

When Cassarah stepped out on those extra-strength heeled shoes of hers, belly swiftly met revolving door...only to back up in lieu of the adjacent double-doors when it was evident that there was no way she could get through the spinning entrance. Burdened with a womb so massive, so rounded, it looked like she could be carrying an teen (or two!), Cassarah pushed through the front entrance with said belly, and made a steady advance towards the elevators. Every step was accompanied by the bounce of the biggest bust Martin had ever seen, churning with what had to have been gallons of milk on each side. The bountiful businesswoman had been making a beeline towards the very lift that would spare her an agonizing trip up several flights of stairs, when she spied -and literally bumped into- Martin on the way. Craning her neck just to peer around her own fecundity, Cassarah looked to Martin in surprise...and with a bit of color on her cheeks.

"Martin!? Oh! Ah, s-sorry about that, I forget how far this all sticks outs..."

Martin did little to help with the inevitable collision. Caught flat-footed and stupefied by the sight that greeted him. And as such, she bowls into him with no warning- sending the slender young man careening back a few steps. And, worse, the iced coffee in his hands tips.. suffice to say, she feels a patch of wetness on her fresh new blouse. One that is surprisingly not caused by her over-productive chest, for once.

Martin recovers his footing, flashing an assuring smile once his senses return. “Its- ah, quite alright ma’am. I didn’t-.. well, I hardly recognized you. I’d ask how the little ones are doing, but.. not much remains little about them.” He murmurs, cheeks flushing with a very warm hue. But they begin to pale quickly, once he notices the stain on her sheer white uniform.

“Oh-.. oh no. I'm- I’m so sorry ma’am, I think there’s some- I spilled some of my drink..” He trails off, eyes wandering to search for some towels to minimize the danger- clicking back into the mode of the useful, if clumsy subordinate she knows quite well.

There was a big coffee-flavored stain left on Cassarah's custom-tailored suit, not that she could even tell, were it not for the icy wetness against her bare skin where the liquid had soaked through the fabric. Spilled against the far end of her belly, the afflicted spot was entirely beyond Cassarah's reach...as well as her sight. It was like trying to glimpse the dark side of the moon, the same celestial body of which her tremendous stomach greatly resembled, wreathed in white. The stain wasn't minor, but nevertheless a tiny spot, compared to the staggering amount of surface area it went up against. However, Martin was more than right to try and minimize the 'damage' with some dabbing at the stain, for its location was so very hard to miss for anyone that was looking directly at Cassarah...or more specifically, looking at her belly.

"T-that's alright, I...nnh...ran into you after all..", Cassarah murmured, suppressing a shudder as her belly was rubbed and inadvertently massaged, right there in the lobby. She did her best to hold still, to keep steady when Martin did what he could to absorb as he could with towels before it really settled into the fabric. That proved far harder than expected, for the sensitive, incredibly hormonal businesswoman. She tried so very hard to maintain a casual air, she wasn't the type to get more than mildly annoyed from an accident like this, but it wasn't anger that had the busty blonde shuffling her heeled shoes on the tile. Eventually, as Cassarah's patience wore thin, and a lot of the other workers in the lobby were stopping in their tracks to stare, Cassarah offered a suggestion.

"P-perhaps there's something that can be better used an another floor. Let us find an elevator, yes?"

“Right, of course- we even have some cleaning supplies by the server rooms. This way.” Martin agrees quickly with her suggestion, worry and fussiness winning out over his natural awkwardness. Hardly noticing the many bodies simply watching the impromptu show, Martin’s delicate hands leave her toasty belly. Much of the stain has been absorbed- but still there is an ugly blotch to the fabric, though all it accomplishes at this moment is to leave a cool spot just above her impossibly shallow navel- in contrast to the rest of her body.

Martin leads the way, up to one of the elevator doors that hisses open only a moment after he calls it. He whistles softly, looking back at the pregnant woman in his wake with a smile. “Lucky break. Ah- do you.. need a hand?” He asks, after noticing just how.. tight a squeeze squeeze it will be, simply trying to get her belly through the open doors of the elevator.

“We could..” Martin starts a thought, then stops it. If she can’t get into an elevator, there’s no way she can haul her vast bulk up a flight of stairs. He doesn’t finish the suggestion, blushing warmly as he ogles her vast motherly bulk.

When Cassarah suggested using the elevator, she spoke with confidence, as if everything would go without a hitch. That confidence evaporated like a puddle on a summer day when she actually got to the elevator, and could eyeball her absurd width, and the width of the lift, which had once felt so very roomy. Now, there was an overwhelming sensation that the opposite was true, and even the bold Cassarah was given pause when she got right up to the opened, elevator doors.

"Ah...well, let us proceed! If you would excuse me...", Cassarah mumbled, volunteering to be the first to step inside. In taking those first paces forward, she reflexively closed her eyes, as if averting her gaze from an ugly truth. Sure enough, Cassarah could not avoid feeling a brushing against the sides of her belly, and then a far firmer stroking, as her belly proved to be just as wide as the doorway, almost. It was almost as wide, which allowed the blonde to put a little more force behind her advance, inhale, and wriggle her way through without incident. Cassarah was left breathing a great sigh of relief once she was inside, slowly pivoting herself like a battleship in a harbor. For an elevator that had standing room for five to six people, Cassarah utterly dominated the space within, belly nearly touching wall-to-all. Nevertheless, Cassarah did her best to move to one side -barely making a difference- under the expectation that Martin was still going to join her, rather than wait for the next one.

"Alright, what floor was it, again? Come over, and push the button, would you?"

There is a very pregnant pause, as Cassarah spends the better part of a minute situating herself. And Martin simply stares. Given her worries about actually fitting- she may not have noticed at first, but the young boys eyes have hardly been wanting for curves to enjoy. He gulps, hard, when she finally gestures for him to join her- and Martin gives a nod. “Just- just a moment. Maybe.. can you squeeze back any further..” Carefully, Martin begins to push on her distended belly. Carefully squeezing against it, so he can actually fit into the elevator proper. His delicate body sinks into the slope of her massive gut- her warmth against his naturally cool limbs. Cassarah can feel him shudder softly at the sensation.

He’s forced to fumble blindly behind him, pinned by her belly against the wall- next to the console, thankfully. His cheeks are burning and the young man is doing all he can to prevent his excitement from becoming something Cassarah feels.. but her taut belly soon is being prodded from below by a quite familiar shape.

“.. W-well, my department is on the eleventh. Your office is on the fifteenth.. where would you rather go?” Martin asks, a hint breathless from how tight their surroundings are- his whole body squished against her firm, heavy belly.

There was no shortage of Cassarah to take in, to etch into memory. Even when viewed from behind in the minute it took for Cassarah to climb inside, beneath that length of cascading, lustrous blonde hair, there were a wide set of hips, and a luscious rear end. But as always, as incredible as those chair-stuffing cheeks might have been on anyone else, they couldn't hold a candle to the largest bust and belly around. Cassarah naively invited Martin into the same elevator cabin as her, not once considering that standing room with her in the elevator was nil. It was impossible not to touch Cassarah in some way. Even by pressing himself against the wall, sucking his stomach in, and raising his arms overhead, Martin could not avoid touching that incredible belly.

And in short order, he was more than merely touching that womb, as a shameful part of himself prodded the underside of that supersized stomach. Eclipsed utterly from sight, and well within the shadow that her tremendous belly cast, Cassarah could not, once again, see just what was happening so far away from the rest of her body. She could, however, feel what was happening, and with both of Martin's arms in view, it didn't take long for Cassarah to connect the dots, and subtly run her tongue across her full lips.

She just thought of a way Martin could make it up to her.

"You said the...cleaning supplies were on the eleventh. Should we go there, first...?", Cassarah asked, her tone low and sensual. To punctuate her point, she deliberately pressed her gravid gut against the boy, not just rubbing against him, but actively grinding her overstuffed womb against his torso...

Flinching in reflex, those raised hands end up grabbing onto the vast swell of Cassarah’s stomach, as if to stop her. But the immediate rush of heat and pleasure quickly puts a stop to such an endeavor, as Martin squeaks out a soft mewl. His impressively swollen co*ck only swells further at her provocation, the elevator beginning to smell of his musk and her motherly, milky scent.

“.. Ah.. well.. I suppose it’s more efficient to go there first, than cart the supplies around- isn’t it? I wouldn’t.. hah.. want to make such a gravid, round-bellied woman like yourself walk more than necessary.” Martin replies, flushed with embarrassment- but more so with his lust. His delicate hands stroke her belly- one finding its way down to her shallow navel, brushing his thumb into and around that impossibly small, tight crater. The elevator hums in protest. After all it is proofed against the weight of five to six, not some three hundred. But it continues to slowly, laboriously lift the impossibly fattened woman and the slender Martin up and up, to their chosen floor.

The slower speed just gave Martin that much more time to feel the gravid goddess of the office, and for her to tease the mail room boy, in turn. Cassarah had put forth so much effort to not look turned on when Martin had brushed against her shallow navel in the lobby, but in the confined, private space of the elevator, there was no longer any need to disguise her true feelings. Cassarah embraced the pleasant sensation, letting slip a lust-fueled huff as Martin stroked in small circles. Cassarah's own hands joined in on the rubbing, albeit tending to places that were still within reach. Most of the time, that was the sides of that same, tremendous stomach. Sometimes, however, they drifted upward, hoisting a breast that had outclassed Cassarah's own head in size.

"My thoughts exactly. I've just been getting bigger as I get closer to the third trimester, no need to walk so far. And its on the way, no?", Cassarah whispered, her tone dripping with thinly-veiled lust. She just kept leaning into Martin, dragging her belly against his body, feeling just how much space she was taking up in the elevator...when an audible chime finally signaled their arrival to the eleventh floor. There, Cassarah straightened her posture, and forced herself through that 'narrow' doorway all over again, wriggling to get through where her belly was the widest.

"I'll have to put a request in for a larger elevator. Now, where were those supplies you mentioned...?"

Unlike her- Martin needs an active effort to disguise his mounting arousal, as they depart the elevator. His tight slacks doing a absolutely no favors, as he emerges first from the elevators- by necessity, rather than any other reason. His eyes are alight with nervous hunger, as he watches Cassarah squeeze free of her narrow confines- and he gestures just up the hall from them.

“Just this way. There will be plenty of what we need to take care of your little issue.” He murmurs, his own tone flushed with his dizzying need. Martin leads the way down the hall, to a thankfully slightly wider door. The reason is apparent as Martin pushes it open, the interior stores many industrial grade cleaning supplies- some that need to be wheeled in and out on trolleys. Martin waits by the door, and once Cassarah slips in- locks it behind them.

“.. So, then.. let’s get a look at that stain. Can you take off the blazer, or do you need help with that these days?” He can’t help but ask, as Martin hungrily devours the sight of her- unfastening his own jacket to hurl aside, breaths coming heavy and heated.

A wry smile graces Cassarah's face, acknowledging that the two were on the same page. She reached up, towards her collar, where a button or two could be unfastened. But the further from there she moved, the more she had to stretch her arms -of mash her chest- to try and reach, prompting her to stop about three buttons down. "Ah, I do require a bit of aid in that regard. The first few are fine, but eventually...well, I need a hand or two. Normally, I leave that to the hired help, but seeing as they are not here...would you be so kind...?", Cassarah asked sweetly, pressing that gigantic, gravid gut into Martin's embrace all over again. By the time she was making moves on the boy once more, she had undone enough buttons to unveil a good part of the shirt she had been wearing underneath. The extra, extra, extra large shirt. A button-up for the ages, leaving little to the imagination. Seeing Cassarah's progress over the last several months left little room for doubt as to the authenticity of those incredible assets, but by removing her jacket, Cassarah effectively put any questions to bed. She had definitely gotten larger since she had gone on that vacation of hers.

The product of unwittingly bearing hundreds of babies in an ever-hungry womb.

Martin devours the sight of her greedily, swallowing hard as she mashes her tit* together. With her permission, he takes a step forward, and runs his fingers against her taut button-up, stroking the skin beneath.

“Well, don’t mind me then..” He murmurs, his fingers finally closing around a button. And his hands gradually trails down, from the deep plunging valley of her neckline, all across the vast swell of Cassarah’s belly. A slow, yet steady act of worship towards the vast bulk his fingers can’t help but lovingly caress. With one last smooth motion, he finishes off the last few buttons- hands perilously close to her shallow navel, as he smiles up at Cassarah hotly- his own arousal prodding firmly through his slacks, leaving no doubts as to his own readiness. His hands snake, and grope the shallow indent of her navel, palming her rosy belly and feeling it’s vast bulk.

“Just pass that to me, and I’ll get that to soaking.. though it occurs that we don’t have any replacements in your size. No surprise of course- most shirts aren’t fashioned for large mattresses or small cars, are they..” He purrs out, both hands exploring her bare belly now, admiring just how much larger she’s gotten.

“.. My word.. I’m surprised you can even stand, Cassarah. I’d say it’s water weight but.. you feel absolutely packed to the brim.”

Being likened to a mattress, a tent, or even a car fell under the realm of insults for most women, but Cassarah was definitely not most women. Certainly, she had her worries, she wasn't blind or numb to what was swaying before her, wider and rounder by the day. That clean bill of health she had gotten from the doctor could only stay her concerns for so long, and she was considering a return visit, just to be certain, despite the risks of having her inhuman offspring discovered. But at the same time, a big reason she hadn't stormed into that company-aligned clinic already...was just that. Big. What countless women dreaded, Cassarah had found a curious fondness for, even if it still eluded explanation. There was just a bizarre sensation that welled up within her when she ran her hands across her gravid middle...or invited others to do the same. It was a decidedly pleasant feeling, one that had only gotten stronger the larger she had gotten. And so, while another doctor visit was on the itinerary, she had prolonged arranging an appointment for far, far longer than she should have. She was never one to question a good thing, too much.

"It isn't easy. These...babies...they're getting so big. I make sure I keep to my workout. I'm not about to commit myself to bed rest, now when there's work to do...", Cassarah hummed, leaning into Martin, and once again asserting her stance to keep coming back to the office so long as she was physically able. Given her brush with the elevator doors, and the need to get a ride to work, how much longer that would be wasn't exactly certain...

“Haven’t considered just working from home, yet? It’s that or you’ll be working from the lobby, soon.” Martin playfully jabs, his hands finally easing off her exposed belly. He tosses her tent of a shirt into a washbasin carelessly, shutting it and starting the cleaning cycle, before turning back to Cassarah with a grin. His hands turn to his own clothes, fingers working quickly to unfasten his belt, and the button for his slacks soon after. The thick shape of his own aroused co*ck still firm and taut against the sinful fabric.

“So, while we wait on that parachute of yours to clean.. how would you like it? Positions must be harder these days.. I’d love to make it easier on that poor back of yours.” _

One jacket removed, and so too the buttoned shirt beneath. Cassarah was bared, but not topless, sporting what had to have been the largest, lacy bra that Martin had ever -and would ever- see. Each cup, custom-tailored to a breast that had no real equal, was nevertheless undersized, those milk-makers doing their best to continued to swell...and fill. Cassarah had to purchase new brassiere far more frequently, nowadays, as she grew in ways that outstripped anything puberty had ever done. That undergarment looked large enough to double as a hammock for a child, or act as a pair of punch bowls. When Cassarah stepped forth, her tremendous tit* wobbled within the confines of that heavily-strapped piece of underwear, a stark contrast to the incredible firmness of the belly that swelled out even further just beneath them. Perched atop that belly, they encouraged Cassarah to bend forward slightly when speaking to people, just to better see over them!

"Oh? Well, I could bring all of this down onto you, if you think you can take it, Martin.", Cassarah suggested, quite aware as to how her weight had spiraled over the past several months. The buxom blonde continued to peer around the room, thinking of alternatives. "That, or...I can lie on by back, and spread by legs. Assuming you don't mind not being able to see my face past my belly..."

There is a visible flush that builds in Martin’s cheeks when she describes the former, and he dryly gulps. His fingers fumble with the button of his trousers, before finally unfastening them and letting the garment ride down. Just enough for his hand to gently feed his co*ck up, and out of the entrapping garment. It springs free between them, swollen and wet with a sticky layer of his own excitement, twitching as it is exposed to the air-conditions cold of the office.

“Well, you may call me selfish for it, but.. I can think of nothing hotter than watching you drop all that bulk, right on top of me..” Martin admits, the flush continuing to build. He glances around- and rather than laying out on the cold floor, finds a pile of towels to use as cushioning, sinking back into them- presenting his hips, and the maker of a slim fraction of the babies forming in her belly- the turgid, thick mass of co*ckmeat now pulsing eagerly, ready to receive Cassarah.

“Your humble seat awaits, ma’am. Make yourself comfortable.”

Cassarah's fair smile widened at the submissive gesture, and she reciprocated by reaching downward and working her wide, wide hips out of that enormous pencil skirt she had been wearing. Only a pair of panties, dark and lacy like the bra that cupped her tremendous breasts, stood in the way of Martin's goal. Fortunately for the lowly employee, they were easily pushed aside, even for Cassarah, as increasingly inflexible as she had become. With sex bared, she strutted towards Martin atop those heeled shoes of hers, and hovered over him like a great dirigible attempting to dock. As fortunate for Martin, Cassarah didn't drop all of her gigantic, gravid self down onto the man all at once. She slowly lowered herself onto him...and his co*ck. But well before she had even a centimeter slide between her legs, Martin's arms were full of enormous, baby-filled belly, firm and rippling with life. It came to rest upon his torso, and all-but hid him beneath it. He was just about able to peer around its incredible surface, and spy the twin moons of Cassarah's bra-cradled bust audibly slapping against her stomach as she positioned herself atop him. They could hardly look one another in the eye. There was just too much Cassarah swelling in the way.

"A fine seat it will be. Tell me, do you enjoy the view?"

There’s a telltale gasp of air being pushed from lungs, as the full weight of Cassarah’s brood is brought to bear on the young man. His arms do their best to cradle it, but even so he is utterly dwarfed as Cassarah finds her seat. His toned, of thin thighs serve as ample enough seating- and certainly, the feeling of her insides being spread by a massive, throbbing co*ck likely contribute to that pleasurable sense. It pulses in her, speaking as loud as words would, regarding just how happy Martin is.

“Haahh.. hahh.. positively celestial, I must say.. twin moons peaking over a glutted, oversized sun.. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” Martin admits, hands caressing all the bulk of her belly that he can reach, as his poor shaft throbs eagerly within her. His hips buck- but the young man is absolutely pinned down by her sheer weight, not budging her an inch- the only evidence he even tried, was the tensing in his hips and groin- plush the flush of warmth in her belly from the first trickles of his precum in her belly.

As there was little Martin could do in his position, utterly pinned beneath her mass, Cassarah saw it all the more important that she do what she could to give Martin an experience he'd not soon forget. To that end, Cassarah not only encouraged her partner to explore what he could reach of her body, she caressed and stroked what was within her reach, as well. Starting up high, fair hands cupped and squeezed those colossal knockers, kneading them like dough and getting the milk within them to slosh about. But she worked her way down, petting those acres of bare belly, taut to the point of having a bit of a sheen in the overhead lights, all without the aid of lotion or oil. Like Martin, Cassarah couldn't even hope to reach around her own, swollen womb, and had to settle for what her arms could stretch out and grace. She made a show of it, so fecund, unlikely any other woman, while rubbing in small circles, as if to suggest no, this still wasn't enough.

"I can barely see you past them, myself. But I can tell that you are delighted as I.", Cassarah retorted, playfully pushing her stomach a tiny bit forward, just to press against Martin's chin. She also squeezed his body beneath her with her thighs, thighs that were far more luscious than the ones they rubbed against. They were, however, deceptively powerful, honed from lugging all that maternal weight about, day after day. By tightening her grip on Martin, both inside and outside of his body, Cassarah made her desires clear before her next words escaped her lips.

"I'd say you're not allowed to pull out, but I suppose I've already given you no choice in the matter, haven't I?"

Heaving in a breath with some difficulty, Martin chuckles weakly, giving the surface of her belly a playful swat.

“I could scream for help, I suppose, that might save me.. but by the time they’re through the locked door, with all this in front of me.. I don’t see myself lasting long enough.” Martin gasps out, his thighs straining fruitlessly against Cassarah’s bulk, spasming restlessly as she simply hovers on his bulging shaft. Cassarah can already feel the little trembles throbbing up and down his member, the first signs of a most pleasurable sensation- that of being stuffed with raw seed. Martin heaves again, hands locking on Cassarah’s belly, roughly squeezing and jostling her pregnant swell, eyes drawn to the hypnotic bob of the swollen bosom above.

“Your belly’s not the only thing is it.. how long ‘till you run out of specialty shops, and you start coming into work without all that support?”

"First comes custom orders, and failing that...then I'll make due. Never thought I'd be making laps around the alphabet, but...here we are.", Cassarah giggled, her hands squeezing her weighty breasts once more, after Martin had turned his attention towards them. By placing her hands upon them, she really demonstrated just how much they had grown by virtue of showcasing how large they were in relation to the rest of her body that wasn't her baby-stuffed belly. Where she might have once been at a size where they could be easily cupped in each hand, a single hand could no longer hope to properly hoist those monstrous melons. Attempting to do so just caused the abundant flesh to bulge around her palms, and her fingers to sink into the plush, milky softness until they practically disappeared.

But as much fun as Cassarah had in playing with herself, that wondrous sensation, deep within her belly brought one of her hands back down to her maternal middle, which she stroked with affection, ignorant of the multitude of fresh eggs waiting for Martin's hardy swimmers.

"Oh, did you just finish in me? Do you need a break? Or a means to slake your thirst? Hrm...I wonder...", Cassarah mused, letting a devious thought hang, as she felt milk continue to swirl around in her chest.

“Hahh.. just about..!” Martin grimaces, doing his very best to hold himself back. It’s a tall order- when your boss has planted her incredibly weighty belly in your lap, fondling her own tit*. But Martin endures as long as he can. Eyes scrunched up tight as his co*ck shudders, trembling at the very apex of release. He bits down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. But the thing that does him in his that husky offer. The promise of slaking his thirst. His mind expands with the possibilities, and in turn- Cassarah’s belly expands with the certainty of fresh breeding.

Martin is certainly a workhorse. He doesn’t have the bulk or bravado of Cassarah’s brother, but he more than makes up for it with sheer volume. Cum erupts into the pregnant swell in several long, noisy gurgles. His balls throb with satisfaction as masses of his virile seed are forcibly driven up into the waiting woman’s womb, tidal waves of eager seed flooding Cassarah’s womb- searching for, and readily finding a multitude of fresh eggs. Unlike in the dog park- the flashes of pleasure are not disparate or slow here, it is a surge. 1, 2-3, 4, 5-6-7-8-9- as Cassarah’s womb is battered, her eggs overwhelmed by Martin’s fresh, thick cum. He paints her womb with his load, laying back and basking in that rich, heady afterglow as his own cum trickles down his thighs, onto the sheets.

“.. Hahh.. that’s.. a finish. That drink would go down.. well..”

Like moisture on arid, desert soil, Cassarah's womb did its best to drink up as much of the seed that was sent its way, leaving a mere fraction of what had exploded outward to escape and trickle across Martin's legs. The feeling that Cassarah had gotten a slight taste of earlier, merely hinted at, came back in full force, prompting the buxom blonde to moan in delight. She tilted her head back, and swept her hands across her bare belly, relishing every moment of that pleasurable high she felt compelled to chase. Her womb, once again made to take on more occupants, churned with the fresh donation, and left Cassarah's toes curling from the wondrous stimulation. When it woefully, eventually began to ebb, the bountiful businesswoman was huffing audibly, and feeling in a particularly good mood.

"You don't say? Well, since you've done such a good job so far, I guess I'll have to see what I can do...", Cassarah replied, ominously moving her hands behind her back. A few, powerful straps and buckles loosed later, that great bra of hers fell away, unveiling the bare breasts that had been bound beneath. Utilizing both hands, Cassarah gripped just one of her breasts like it was an enormous condiment bottle, and took aim towards Martin past the curve of her belly. There was more than enough milk within, that much was certain. But could it make the distance...?

Martin gawks up at Cassarah, eyeing her swollen chest with awe and naked lust. Under her, she even feels the faint throbbing of his member beginning to regain some blood flow. A pleasant throbbing that promises much more, with the kind of show she’s putting on.

“Wait, wait wait.. are- are you producing milk.. is that what was making all that noise?” Martin asks, flushing hotly in his cheeks as he watches Cassarah fumbling and adjusting her seating, her position- drawing a strangled gasp from her unwitting victim, as her hips flatten and squeeze his tender co*ck. With a groaning sound of pain and pleasure, Martin slumps back again- stuck, and quite content, to watch Cassarah fondling, still not understanding what she’s trying to do..

Inspiration had struck for Cassarah, as bizarre and unconventional as it was. So much milk, built up over the last several hours, had left her breasts pressurized and in need of some release. At the same time, Martin was looking rather parched, as far as Cassarah could tell with what little of his face she could see past her belly and bust. Pairing these two problems made the answer clear, Cassarah was to share. Certainly, she could hoist herself up off Martin and bring her chest to him. But having grown fond of that throbbing manhood nestled within her, Cassarah had gone with that outlandish endeavor. She tightened her grip on her breast, and gave it a good squeeze...

"Open wide, darling.", Cassarah hummed, just as she put enough force of her clenched tit to get it to gush with warm, milky cream. Her nipples, typically inverted, weren't the best at making for an accurate stream, but the built-up supply ensure there was more than enough force to squirt a good distance away...like right onto Martin's mouth and face. Cassarah's belly would get dappled in milk, so large a target, but the more the blonde practiced, the better her aim seemed to get. A quick refill for Martin from a distance...and a little payback for staining her suit jacket with coffee.

Even as she quickly adjusts her aim, it is still quite the messy affair. Emerging from her inverted tips, the arc splashes his face and chest, staining his nice shirt with splotches of creamy milk. Martin starts, goes to say something- and instead gets a mouthful of the same creamy payload. Coughing and choking it down, he goes to again protest the way he’s been treated.. until the warmth of her milk hits his belly. His co*ck hardens, firming up within her and pulsing faintly, while his cheeks flush darker. And any time he might have had to give objections, is instead devoted to trying to catch the unsteady stream of milk stemming from the gravid woman above him.

When she at last tapers off and lets him speak, Martin wipes his mouth, panting heavily with a milk-stained face, droplets caught in his curly hair. “I- gah, hah, thought I might just drown.. that would have been a happy end, pinned and milk-boarded by my zeppelin-sized boss..” Martin remarks, hands dabbing and collecting droplets of milk from her pregnant swell, bringing them to his lips. And his co*ck is raging in her belly by now, angry throbs up and down his tender, bulky length, sending clear warning signs that another eruption can’t be far off.

What had worked with her brother had once again worked with Martin, and Cassarah was all the more thrilled for it. She had yet to make the connection, to entertain any notion that it was her milk itself that had become so special, and not just the sensual, mental motivation, and she would not bother to question the result in the end. Martin had gone from flagging to erect and throbbing once more, and Cassarah could feel the difference, as it based against the entrance to her womb. With her insides getting stirred up by that surprisingly thick co*ck, she was all the more motivated to start rocking her hips, and squeezing down on the shaft that had already filled her once, today.

"I'd hold back. I wouldn't want this to be our last time, if I could help it...", Cassarah casually remarked, leaving the possibility of future fun around the office, open. But once those words were uttered, she went right back to milking Martin's manhood just as fiercely as she had milked herself. That feeling, that sensation of being stuffed with seed. She had to have it just once more time, before she could think about cleaning up after herself. Only then, would she get back to reporting for work...

Martin releases a strained grunt as she begins her own milking of his shaft, the throbbing girth of it growing hotter and more desperate within. Martin can already feel that he’s done for, swimming in a cloud of bliss brought on by the electric spasms through his spine.

“No k-.. kidding, haha.. ugh- speaking of last times..” He grins, part grimace as he bucks against her- slamming his hips up against hers, and wrapping his arms around her wide thighs to hold her close. And with a gasping groan, he erupts in her for a second time. Spasms of heat bloom in her belly as jets of Martin’s rich, virile cum are stuffed into her overfull belly. Eagerly, they swim through her vast swell as Martin continues the trembling eruption within- stuffing her for the better part of a minute, before slumping back into the sheets with a drawn out, content sigh. Then.. her eggs start to throb, as one by one they are swamped, overtaken by his eager seed- filling her even further with his brood.
This well of heat makes the last eruption of his cum feel weak, tranquil by comparison. The eruptions of pleasure in her womb carry on for another full minute as her belly is thoroughly filled with more, more, yet more fertilized eggs.. until at long last the shocks of her belly being stuffed finally abate, settling with a pleasant ebbs of warmth within her well-fed womb.

Cassarah huffed, riding out that wondrous wave of pleasure that had her craning her neck upward, and suppressing the desire to mewl with delight. At some point throughout that blissful moment, her hands had drifted right back down to her belly, where they had been rubbing her throbbing womb with affection and sensual joy. It was almost as if she was encouraging herself to be bred again -were that even a possibility! But ultimately, Cassarah remained right atop that erupting shaft, taking in every drop that could be crammed within her womb. Only when the flow tapered off, did Cassarah heave herself back onto a stand, one step at a time. Ignorant of just how much more Martin had become a father, Cassarah pivoted her big-bellied self towards her clothes, hoping that they would be in a state to wear again so she could return to her department proper.

"Mhm, a fun distraction, but I really need to clock in, I'm assuredly late by now. I'll have to have a word with Sen...it was nice 'bumping' into you, Martin. Would you do me one last favor and help me get presentable, again?"

Martin does his best. Fortunately the pair have found themselves in a room devoted to cleaning products, which means the evidence of their tryst is relatively simple to obscure. But the clothes.. are a different beast. Martin does his best to clean up the coffee stain- but it's not easy to handle without a dedicated wash. He gives Cassarah a bit of an apologetic look.

"I'm not quite sure what to do here.. we have some dress shirts, up to 4 or 5XL, but.. they might cover up top, at best. Or you could wear this with a bit of a stain showing. What would you like?" Martin asks Cassarah. She's gotten her skirt and undergarments back on- with a non-zero amount of groping from Martin, all incidental of course. Left in just her bra for the moment, Martin does his best not to stare even more.

Cassarah weighed her options, well aware that a non-customized shirt would fall short of what she required. And yet, when the alternative was to come in with a big, brown stain on a white jacket, it came out as the better option. "Give me the largest shirt you have, mind will have to be deep-cleaned, later.", Cassarah decided, pointing towards one of the collared, button-ups that Martin had indicated. She was handed the shirt, and swiftly put her arms through the sleeves. That, however, was where the 'easy' part ended. As both of them had imagined, the shirt, 5XL, was still inadequate of even coming close to covering her belly. Cassarah worked with Martin to fasten one button after another around her chest and worked around her immense breasts, but could only fasten a couple buttons when it came to her stomach. That left almost all of her belly bare, taut, firm, and with a lovely sheen. It was a little cold, but not so much that Cassarah couldn't handle.

"This will have to do. I hope that Sen doesn't mind the dress code violation. I'll have to apologize...", Cassarah hummed, her tone not all that apologetic, despite her choice of words.

"Mm.. he'll only mind if he has poor taste." His fingers drift to her bare stomach, smoothing over the delicate shallow pothole of her navel with one thumb. Martin sighs, cheeks flushing with fresh desire. He clears his throat.

"I-.. I had best let you depart now, before I undo all our hard work. I hope you will not mention my own indiscretions while on company time." He gives the stomach, one that unknowingly carries more than fifty of his own children, a fond pat- before he pulls his jacket back over his shoulders, and with a farewell wave- Martin slips out of the room first. Leaving the door open so Cassarah doesn't have to awkwardly maneuver to open it.

"If anyone asks, you were hard at work with a...personal project for me.", Cassarah replied, a fair smile gracing her lips.

Cassarah parted Martin's company with a friendly wave, and went right towards waddling to the elevator on her current floor. As was the case before, she barely managed to fit into the doorway, and occupied the vast majority of the space within. It almost felt like getting into that elevator had somehow gotten tighter, in the last hour, but Cassarah brushed that feeling to focus on reporting to work like she originally intended. After a minute spent comically pivoting in the elevator when she realized she could not reach the buttons unless they were to her side, Cassarah hit the correct floor, and began the rest of the journey to her department, where the rest of her subordinates, and her immediate boss, undoubtedly awaited. It was unlike her to be late, and so, she had a mind to report to Sen as soon as possible, spending the elevator trip thinking of plausible excuses...

---

A significantly slower elevator trip than it should have been. But, Cassarah emerges onto the admin level of her building. The doors hiss open. Curious eyes glance towards the noise, which soon become gawks, as Cassarah begins the languid process of carefully extracting herself from the metal trap. Three or four pairs of eyes becomes double that, then double again, till several dozen cubicles worth of workers are struggling to work without tearing their eyes away from the tan-colored zeppelin currently navigating the narrow spaces between desks.

Even familiar faces are getting in on the action. Dylan is at his own desk, flushing and gawking with each sway and step of Cassarah's immense frame. And Antonio, her secretary- stands up at the desk by her office for a better look. He doesnt wear any embarrassment on his face, but he gawks knowing that Cassarah can see it. A few of her colleagues greet her- middle managers that try to move desks out of her way and make a bit of small talk. But dozens of eyes devote themselves to burning into Cassarah, her bust, and her belly. Whispered conversations at the edges of the room have already started.

".. septuplets, or something?..."
".. thought she started showing a few months ago.."
".. see any stretch marks at all, how's she still walking like.."

Snippets reach Cassarah's ears as she continues her inexorable walk, freshly bred- to the office of her supervisor, at the far end of the floor.

Cassarah kept her gaze and advanced affixed, straight ahead, as she ponderously waddled down the workplace aisle in order to get to the office of her immediate supervisor. This was not only to hasten her journey towards Sen, but to disguise any self-conscious thoughts that might have made themselves known on her own face. Cassarah had expected stares, they were everywhere she went, and her workplace was certainly no different. But it wasn't the attention that she was garnering. That, was oddly pleasant, in a way that she could not explain. To command attention, just by being, to turn heads with her very presence...that was something Cassarah could say she was coming around to enjoy. But that aisle, once spacious enough to comfortably allow two employees pass one another without any risk of collision was getting utterly dominated by her pregnant belly. It pretty much spanned the entire width of the aisle, where if she allowed her hips to sway too much, she'd be knocking against somebody's cubicle. Another reminder of just how huge she really was.

But after she gave her many subordinates an impromptu show simply by strutting down that stiff carpet on her usual high-heeled shoes, she arrived at the office of her immediate boss, and gave a knock. "Mr. Sakimodo...? It is Cassarah. I came to apologize for being late, today..."

She hears the low tone of her supervisors voice reply. “Come on in.”

Cassarah is lucky the doors are double-doors. With a push, they open wide- allowing her to enter his private office. And since her belly precedes her by a few feet by now, Sen is already staring by the time she can see him. He doesn’t let it show much on his face, but Cassarah spots the way his eyes devour her every curve. Hungry.

“Welcome back to the office, Cassarah. The break’s been good for you- you’re looking positively radiant.” He says in his even, pleasant voice, smiling and meeting her gaze for the first time. “Don’t concern yourself. It’s just your first day, and frankly- seeing you now, I understand it must be a struggle, making it to the office.”

Cassarah could still recall a Sen that was far more stern when it came to matters of attendance, particularly around this time of year. That Sen was nowhere to be seen when Cassarah pushed open the double-doors to his office -belly first- and waddled inside. Her first inclination was to help herself to a seat, but any chair with arms on it was just asking to get wedged within it. Instead, the buxom blonde approached Mr. Sakimodo's desk to where her belly was practically bumping against it, and expressed her relief at Sen's apparent clemency.

"T-thank you, sir. It has been a little tricky, as of late. You recall that I now arrange transportation to get to work? I cannot fit behind a wheel in my condition. Speaking of which, I also must apologize for the breach in dress code...", Cassarah continued, gesturing toward something that Sen had noticed the nanosecond Cassarah had waddled on inside. Her belly, typically covered by enormous business attire that she had been custom-ordering to wear, was almost completely bare, as a not-to-order shirt had just managed to keep her chest modest.

"...I unfortunately spilled coffee on my dress shirt on the way inside, and this was as much as I could manage without returning home and becoming even more late. I do hope you will overlook this matter.", Cassarah pleaded, that tremendous belly of hers nudging the newton's cradle on Sen's desk.

There is a pregnant pause as Sen studies Cassarah, broken only by the faint ticking of the newtons cradle. A metronome that fills the delicate quiet between them.

“It is a more serious breach of our companies lofty standards.” Sen acknowledges, gaze following the tight, strained fabric of her shirt. Down to the toasty, exposed skin of her middle.

“Nonetheless.. I am compelled to agree that this is better than wearing such a stain. Besides, to see you in such good health, despite such a burden your surrogacy must be putting on your body.. I understand you must be proud of yourself.” Sen smiles amiably, his hands laced together. “You haven’t had any other troubles here in the workplace, have you? I would hate to fail at accommodating your needs at such a crucial juncture.”

"Your words are too kind. I have always prided myself on my attendance, my commitment to coming in as much as possible, I am not about to change that. As for my health, well, I suppose I have the company's partner pharmaceuticals to thank for that. I have been taking everything the doctor has prescribed to me on the regular. I can only assume that is why I still feel so well.", Cassarah admitted, attempting to steer the conversation towards a direction that flattered Mr. Sakimodo, or at least his wise recommendations. But rather than be reprimanded, Cassarah found Sen doing all that he could to accommodate her, which left Cassarah thinking as to ways to ease her troubles around the workplace.

"Ah, now that you mention it, I suppose it would help to...loosen the dress code for those in my condition, if only so I do not have to worry about returning home, should another spill occur. I would like a larger chair, as well, the one I have has a way of...gripping me, so to speak. Other than that...", Cassarah paused, hesitating as she wondered if she was pushing her luck, "...would it be absurd to request a...large food stipend? My doctor keeps telling me how I need to increase my caloric intake. For my health, of course..."

Sen listens to her demands with an even expression, not betraying his thoughts on the matter. Behind his desk, he seems quite at ease, regarding Cassarah as she runs down her list of needs, slightly co*cking his head at the last one.

“.. I am glad to hear you have found their work acceptable. I will inform them that their prescription is doing wonders. As for the other matters.”

He meets her eye, studious, a slight smile on his lips. “Mm.. as it so happens, I do have a thought, Cassarah. What you are asking for- the loosened dress code I can forgive. But the adjustments to your office space, and to your food stipend.. I cannot simply do so without an additional incentive. But, I do have something in mind. A month from now- we are attending a conference in California, presenting some of our product and meeting with business partners. I’d like to have you make the trip. Do that, and I’ll even ensure the doors to your office are widened enough for your accommodation.” Sen smiles at her. A snakes smile, sibilant and calm, his eyes sharp.

“What will it be?”

"A conference...?", Cassarah asked with a tilt of her head. "Is that all? If that is the case, I will gladly accept.", Cassarah agreed, circling Sen's desk to get close enough to extend a hand to shake on their arranged deal. Shaking anyone's hand from the front was a non-starter by virtue of just how far her belly stuck out, something that Cassarah initially forgot in her rush to strike a deal. She ended up pressing her belly into Sen, before backing up and returning at a sidelong angle, one that could allow her to reach out and shake her boss' hand.

"Apologies, Mr. Sakimodo! I forget my own size, sometimes. But yes, I accept. Just email me the details and I will add it to my schedule. I will ensure that I am properly prepared in a month's time.", Cassarah reassured, seeing the meeting as a trivial condition. In her many years in business, she was no stranger to meetings, and one that she had to travel for wasn't all that different. A part of her even thought it might be fun...though she did her best not to look too excited, lest Sen catch on that his counteroffer was far less of a 'price' than he believed it was.

Sen looks quite satisfied with his side of this particular engagement. A hint of a gleam to his eyes as she extends a hand. One that is driven out of him with an audible ‘Oof!’, as her belly is pressed into his lap. For a moment their toasty bodies come together and Cassarah gets to feel the familiar sensation of a man’s arousal, their semi-hard co*ck being pressed against her taut dome. Clearly the man isn’t doing all the thinking with his head- at least not the one up top.

Sen clears his throat, and shakes her hand. “Of course, of course. I’ll have the details to you by your first break, along with your pass for the cafeteria. You’ll have to put up with your current chair for now, but I’ll ensure that I requisition something better reinforced.” Sen assures Cassarah with that polished smile, hands resting in his lap. A convenient spot for hiding anything.

“Might I help with anything else, Cassarah?” He asks curiously, co*cking his head faintly to the side.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly trouble you with any more today, not after you have helped me so much already...", Cassarah replied, bending over and -purposefully- pressing that belly of hers right into Sen's lap all over again. Firm, taut, and full of life, it was pleasantly warm to the touch, and a gentle sensation of movement could be felt on its surface. Peering over her weighty breasts, big enough to partially obscure her own vision, Cassarah 'accidentally' rubbed her belly into her boss' torso, before arching her back and ridding him of all that fantastic fecundity. Again, she felt the prodding from below, and she did not need an explanation for its source. Had she not just rode Martin on the way in...that alone might have been enough to see Cassarah extending her 'meeting' with her boss for some while longer. Instead, she pulled back, all while rubbing her belly like and proud mother-to-be could. Even with her view partway blocked, she could see how much Sen liked that.

"...But I imagine that I may need things in the future. It won't be long before I am entering the third trimester, and the little ones really start to get big, and I'll really have needs. I can count on you then, right, Mr. Sakimodo?"

His cool demeanor is somewhat cracked by her actions and words, a heat and hunger to his eyes that was muted a moment ago. He licks his lips, and Sen chuckles politely.

“It is trying times for a woman like yourself. You have served us well for so long already, I would be remiss not to support you now.” Sen purrs in response, eyes blatantly not meeting her gaze. They settle on that taut dome of a belly and stay there. Pondering. Eagerly.

“Don’t hesitate to call on me for any reason. But, if that is all- I do have some calls to make. Thank you, Cassarah.” He withdraws a phone from his suit, and his hunger turns to focus, as he begins to make several arrangements.

With that, Cassarah departed Mr. Sakimodo's office with a spring in her heeled steps, and a fair smile upon her face. It seemed that things were shaping up around the office, turning out far better than Cassarah had ever imagined when she first saw those pregnancy tests some five months ago. She returned to her station, her department that overlooked so many of her subordinates on her floor, and conducted business as usual, in utter defiance of her awe-inspiring size. In many ways, nothing had changed, she was able to get things done just as efficiently as before...for the most part. Employees appeared to walk into things a great deal more often, and when Cassarah was at her computer, she had to take great care not to accidentally press down on several keys at once, with her bust so very skilled at the art. But otherwise, all was well, and it didn't take long for Cassarah to see that Mr. Sakimodo had honored their agreement. Not only did she get a notification of the future conference, but within days, she had a special cafeteria pass, and a waiver towards her own dress code, allowing for a lot more flexibility when it came to her wardrobe.

It would come in handy far sooner than she had imagined.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Sen had informed Cassarah of an upcoming business conference, and his intention to have her accompany him. Just a couple weeks later, however Cassarah was finding herself outgrowing what she had ordered online in record time. Be it shirts, skirts, or her very brassiere, they were a fit for a shorter and shorter amount of time. Cassarah sometimes surprised herself, with just how immense she appeared in her own mirror at home. Unfortunately for Cassarah, her custom-orders took time to make, and to ship. In dire need of something to keep herself modest in and out of work until then, she set time on her day off to venture to the local shopping mall, which she heard had recently opened a chain for...larger women. Surely, it was bound to have what she needed...or close enough to it!

Terry has been entertaining himself in the play area as best he can. On the day off his parents are off shopping and fighting probably, but that’s okay. Everything has been a bit more okay recently. Except for Nick and Cameron.

Terry scrunches his face in a pout, crossing his arms at the pair. “It’s true, it’s true! They were special games only the adults play! And she let me play too.” Frustrated, Terry sighs out a breath. Dressed up in cute overalls, Terry has messy brown hair, while his friends are similar. Nick is blonde and more stocky- two years older than the younger boy, with sky blue eyes and a bit of a lisp. While Cameron has dark hair and a shy disposition, listening quietly to them argue while he sucks on a bit of candy. Happy to stay quiet for the moment.

“I haven’t heard of any adult games like that, you’re making it uuuup!” Nick teases, and Terry pouts further. “I’m not! If you came back to the swimming pool someday you’d see her too! She looks like she ate a whole couch! And her boobies were the size of her head, and, and..” Terry sees Nick smirking, and tears of frustration well up. If only his adult friend could help him now, but she’s been gone for a while..

In a bizarre twist of fate, Cassarah happened to be entering the mall at that very moment. A somewhat cold day outside that day, she had gone for something that was not only warm, but that could still fit. She had pulled over her head (and then her chest and belly) a ribbed, red sweater, one that'd look downright baggy on anyone else. For Cassarah it managed to fit, if while riding up while she walked, unveiling a slice of bare belly on the underside of her stomach that she could not see, but was constantly aware of when cool air brushed past exposed skin. Paired with the sweater, were some of the most elastic, black leggings she had in her possession, making for a surprisingly comfortable ensemble. But as her just-too-short sweater would remind her, she had to look for even larger garments, for the weeks ahead. Perhaps it had been due to how much she had been eating at the work cafeteria, but her weight was climbing faster than expected. Not only was her belly setting new record, she was fairly sure there was a bit of a 'shelf' forming in the back.

Pushing those thoughts aside, and in no condition to be taking the stairs, Cassarah pushed her way through the weekend, gawking crowd to the nearby escalator, keen on getting to the second floor. The standard-size escalator, wide enough to allow people to pass one another if need be, was utterly dominated by her fertile figure, which rubbed against both handrails at the same time. And the upward angle, coupled with her enormous bust, had Cassarah unable to see much of what was ahead of her as she took the ride to the second story. As it happened, however, the child's play area was located right where that escalator ended. Just as Terry was wishing for his adult friend, a great trio of red spheres rose up from the first floor.

Saddened eyes wandering the crowds, Terry finds his savior. Even though he doesn’t recognize her at first. His gaze is drawn to the swell of her belly first. An awe-inspiring orb that utterly dominates, preceding her by several feet these days. And above, seeing the massive pair of breasts she’s sporting- Terry can’t help but gulp, throat feeling dry at the thought of drinking from something of that size. But.. his face lights up with excitement as finally, she departs the escalator- and Terry sees her face.

Nick calls out after him. “Wait, we’re not supposed to-“ But Terry doesn’t listen. He jumps the fence, and zig-zags through the crowd, whizzing under legs and through bags. And when he finally arrives, his cute arms reach out- and hug Cassarah’s side.

“Auntie Cassie!! Hi!! It’s Terry, do you remember me?” The cute young boy emerges from nowhere, and clings onto Cassarah. More eyes start gawking, staring at the display with confusion, as two more young boys approach. One taller and a little older, the other young, shy- with black hair obscuring his face. But both are gawking in awe at Cassarah, stunned into silence by the sheer sight of her.

With her only sibling not having any children (that she was aware of), being called an 'aunt' was not something Cassarah had expected, upon reaching the second floor. Nor had she anticipated a small child hugging her hip, doubly so as they had approached from an angle that kept them utterly obscured from view, thanks to the breadth of her own belly. But when Cassarah turned slightly and looked downward, she spied that very boy she had some...dangerous fun with, back at a community pool. Her look of shock -or what could be seen of it, over her breasts- turned to a warm smile, and she ruffled the adorable boy's head. He was just as cute as she remembered. It was just his name that escaped her. She raked her memories to come up with an answer.

"...Terry? Terry, was it? You're doing well. Are those your friends? It's nice to see you again. It's been a few months since we last saw each other.", Cassarah hummed, her initial mission-driven stance on her mall visit getting sidelined at the sight of that cute, innocent boy, nuzzling against her belly. Not at all discouraging Terry from rubbing as much as he liked, she cast her gaze to his friends, and introduced yourself.

"Hello there, my name is Cassie. I suppose Terry here told you two about me...?"

Nick gulps, and puts on a very polite voice. Clearly he’s fairly diligent in comparison to Terry, who’s hands are already roaming and exploring the exposed slip of Cassarah’s vast middle.

“Ah, um- yes. Miss Cassie. I’m Nicholas-“ Terry interjects. “They’re Nick and Cameron! Nick is a big meanie who says we don’t play adult games! But Cameron is nice.. just shy.” Terry beams happily up at Cassarah. Even more eyes are being directed her way now. Nick can’t seem to look away from her bountiful chest, and Cameron is hiding behind the larger boy- looking at Cassarah with a mix of fear and awe, flushing faintly in his cheeks. Terry is unperturbed, cuddling Cassarah happily and without shame, nuzzling against her vast belly with a giggle. “Wow, you’re so much bigger now! How did you do it? Did you play lots of adult games without me?”

Cassarah slowly knelt down, not all the way, but enough so to partially bridge the gap between her and Terry, so much lower down than she was. "That's right, Terry. Thanks to those fun games, I got a lot bigger.", Cassarah quietly agreed, ignorant of just how true the statement really was. She kept her voice down, as to not attract too much attention to the mention of 'adult games' around children a fraction of her age. It was one thing for others to look at her for being so large. It was another to wonder just what Terry meant about 'playing' together.

"Ah, but shhh, those are supposed to be a secret, remember. You can tell your friends, but nobody else, okay?", Cassarah reminded terry, putting a finger to her lips. At how much she crouched down, her chest was now within the boy's reach, one of two great mounds, round and jiggly, and stuffed with milk. Just like Cassarah was shooting through her shirt sizes when it came to waistline, her cup size had been skyrocketing, and part of that was due to just how much milk she was making, nowadays. It had already been a lot back on her vacation, but she felt like her chest was filling up faster than ever, as of late...

"Did you miss me, Terry? Miss those games we played? If you know a secret spot...maybe we can play again. You and your friends..."

Terry looks alarmed, then whispers into her ear. “I’m sorry auntie Cassie.. um. I’ll be careful. But..” He squints at Nick and Cameron, and scampers over to them. The three have a whispered conversation, arguing back and forth together- before Terry looks at Cassarah with a grin. Happy, eager, ignorant to how perverted the idea Cassarah proposed is.

“Cameron knows a place! He’ll lead the way. Nick- help me bring her along!” Nick nods his head, walking around to one side of Cassarah and taking her hand, while Terry takes the other. Cameron nods abashedly, and starts leading Cassarah deeper into the mall, as the two young boys guide the pregnant lady with them, helping her avoid obstacles and people.

Eventually, she’s lead to a shop that’s been closed down. Cameron squirms under the iron bars that lock the front entrance, and with a deft hand, they begin to click and rise up the wall, revealing the remains of a furniture store. Much of the stock is still wrapped in tarps, but beds, sofas and tables rest and collect dark in the dim shadows of the store. It is undoubtedly private, especially as Cameron lowers the gate behind them, leaving all four cast in the dim glow that filters through the bars.

Nick and Cameron look uncertain, but Terry tugs on Cassarah’s hand. “So, so! Should we show them how to play? Or do you want us to all play together right away?” He asks innocently, a hand unbuttoning his overalls cheerfully. Surrounded by three prepubescent boys, knowing what’s about to happen.. Cassarah can feel her womb growing hot, flushing as her eggs are plumped and ready for several breeding rounds.

From the moment those innocent boys took her hand and lead the way, Cassarah was fighting the urge to lick her lips, and look like some predatory beast. The boys were just so cute, so willing, she could not not spend time with them. And thanks to the 'Auntie' remark, the underpaid, teenaged supervisor of the play area didn't even blink as the kids left in her company, after gawking at her immense size, anyway. As far as they were aware, she was their legal guardian. She even looked the part of a mother with fantastically fertile figure and two of the three boys holding her hands, albeit one that left the impression that she was a woman that didn't know when to stop having kids. Cassarah made a mental note to return the boys, before Terry's mother or whoever dropped him off returned from their shopping spree.

But for the moment, Cassarah was peering around the cleared-out store with a wide smile. Stores that had gone out of business in this economy were common, and thanks to the shutter, there was almost no chance of intrusion. Cassarah eyed one of the couches that had left behind, one that could easily seat three to four people, and promptly took up most of it in the center.

"Well, this is a game, right, Terry? It makes sense that we teach the others how to 'play' first. Of course, they're more than welcome to feel, while we show them...", Cassarah murmured, hands sweeping across her belly...and then her chest. Nothing was off limits for these boys, and she pointed to the empty spots on the couch to her side for both Nick, and Cameron. For Terry, however, Cassarah got up again, and pointed to where she just sat.

"You'll be there, Terry, when we show them how to play. But first...were any of you...thirsty?"

Terry supports her question with a quick look and a nod, which leaves the nervous pair to glance at one another, then slowly nod. Nick clears his throat. “.. Ah.. yes, I’d.. like something to drink. What did you bring..?” He asks politely. Cameron nodded due to the pressure, looking at Cassarah with some apprehension. A tough little nut to crack, certainly. Then there’s Terry. He raises a hand with a giggle. “Me, me first! I need it to play the game good!” And his cute little hands paw at her sweater, stroking her belly in an effort to reach her overinflated breasts. They’re thoroughly out of reach, resting atop her monumental swell, but the cute boy has to try nonetheless.

The distant ebb of the crowds is fading, the store quiet save their breathing and movement. As Terry cuddles against her belly, Cassarah feels it. His cute boyco*ck, prodding that massive slope, stiff and ready for some 'games'.

Cassarah promptly seated herself back onto the couch, where the boys, standing or kneeling on said furniture, would be able to reach her chest. "What I brought...is milk"., Cassarah replied, beaming in the face of the deviant act that was about to take place. Wasting little time, she tugged at the warm, woolly fabric of her sweater, and pulled it up, up over her belly, and over her chest, revealing both. In the former, a colossal pregnant dome was unveiled, not that any of the boys knew that it was filled with babies. And for the latter, Cassarah's breasts, spilling out of one of her largest, lacy bras, wobbled enticingly, primed to share their creamy bounty. The boys, sans Terry, were rightfully confused by the remark, so Cassarah went right on to explain herself by unlatching the many straps that kept that hammock-like bra fixed to her body, and bared her breasts and their inverted nipples in their entirety. She then proceeded to demonstrate with Terry at her side, hoisting breast to her own lips.

"See these...?", Cassarah asked, using two hands just to properly lift one, tremendous tit. "They're so very full. Look...", Cassarah continued, right before she wrapped her lips around her nipple and began to suckle in front of the boys, right then and there! Unattended, was the other breast, within Terry's reach...

She hardly needs to wait a moment before her other breast is seized. Terry couldn’t lift the vast mass of sloshing cream if he tried, but he can lean over her. Terry clambers up onto her massive belly with a laugh, clinging to it and bringing his lips up, up, and onto her inverted nipple. And the boy begins suckling at her other breasts, moaning with delight as his co*ck just gets harder and harder against her pregnant dome. His cheeks flush with hormonal heat as the co*cktail-infused milk awakens his body, heating it up and preparing for a marathon session.

The other two boys gawk openly at the display. Shocked at first, partly scared, but then increasingly jealous of Terry as he moans and gulps down Cassarah’s liquid cargo. Cameron is a little shy still and stays down, but Nick climbs onto the other side of the couch, tugging at Cassarah’s arm.

“Ah, miss- can I.. can I try it? It looks nice..” He admits with a warm flush on his cheeks. The other boys don’t know what’s going on, but Nick.. Nick looks like he might have a little more of an idea. The way he stares at her tit* isn’t as innocent as the other boys. He looks hungry.. like he’s just awakening to those hungry breeding instincts of a young teen.

That hormone-laced co*cktail in Cassarah milk was stronger than ever, not that the blonde herself was aware. Her medication, the 'special' menu for her at work, it augmented her already-outlandish fertility to absurd levels...and could be recycled into her system through her milk. It was a big part of the reason why, the larger Cassarah got, the fonder she grew of the taste of her own milk, almost as eager to gulp it down as little Terry. The act came with a flush of warmth, deep within her immense belly, in what Cassarah had little idea was her ovaries going into overdrive. She could have gulped it down by the gallon, if she were so inclined, but hearing Nick's earnest plea convinced the blonde businesswoman to share. Her lips were removed from her nipple with a barely-audible pop.

"You can call me Cassie too, if you like. And of course you can, Nick. I brought enough to share...", Cassarah whispered, making a show of just how much milk was left, sloshing around in each tit. She had gulped and gulped, but had barely left a dent in how much that remained! As Nick moved into place, however, Cassarah looked straight ahead, towards that adorably shy boy, Cameron.

"That goes for you, too. Take Terry's place when he's done, Cameron. Plenty for you, too..."

Terry makes it easy enough. He’s drunk a full bellies worth of her milk, and with that done- he eagerly climbs down her belly, and slips underneath. Cassarah knows exactly where he’s going, and with a rustle of cloth falling.. she also knows that he’ll slip into place under her rump when she’s ready.

Nicholas is latched onto her nipple with wide eyes. He groans helplessly, as he drinks the most addictive substance in the world to him. Swallowing it down faster than Terry did, the warmth in his belly builds and bubbles up. And his co*ck, already verging on the journey to manhood.. bulges. It bulges and strains his trousers, harder and harder with each gulp. Then at last the button of his shorts gives out, and his swollen boyco*ck slaps into her bared belly. Nicholas doesn’t even notice, too busy continuing to drink.

Timidly, Cameron climbs up as well. He carefully takes her bosom in his hands, and hesitantly he starts to massage it. Under his dark bangs it’s hard to read his expression, but he’s blushing as he squeezes and kneads her tit*, letting milk spill out- before his cute tongue laps the sweet cream off her skin. It leaves a sticky lather of saliva and milk across her skin as his tongue laps off her belly and off her tit*. He smiles faintly, whispering. “.. Fun..”

"Tasty, too, isn't it?", Cassarah asked, observing each boy's delighted reaction. They were all hooked on the flavor as much as she was, and there was still so much left for them to drink. Each could have their fill, leave some for Cassarah to drink more of, and there still be some left over. What was problematic, was knowing when to stop. But not about to ignore Terry, Cassarah wriggled her leggings off of her hips, and down her legs. Her panties remained, completely hidden from view under all that luscious, fertile figure, but they were easily pushed aside. She could not -and would not- make poor Terry wait any longer if she could help it. Recalling that this was the true part of their 'adult game' she called the other's still suckling from her to pay attention, even as it was hard to discern exactly what was happening when Terry was buried underneath her backside, and pressed into some (thankfully) padded couch cushions.

"You two, this is the adult game, and thanks to that, I get bigger and bigger, and make lots of milk to share...", Cassarah informed the others, her tone low and lusty, from nursing Terry's friends. But sure enough, she guided her sex toward that prodding she felt from below, and allowed the innocent boy's manhood to bury itself as deep between her legs as it could manage. Cassarah could swear it felt larger, compared to last time, a few months ago. It was hard to tell for certain, though. It had to push past a much thicker rear, this time around...

She hears Terry whimper with pleasure under her. The two boys pause, and are then rapt with attention as Terry moans. This is not a playful sound, not a fun sound. It is one of undeniable pleasure and lust. Terry was prepared for this, somewhat. Ready to play the adults game. But when Cassarah drops her hips onto his and his poor co*ck is swallowed by her fattened ass and ravenous slit.. he can’t help himself. Terry, already aroused from the milk coursing through his system.. c*ms.

He wails with lust, hands scraping at her hips helplessly as he bucks and shudders underneath her. Cassarah barely gets a moment to register that she’s already getting bred.. before the fireworks starts. Over, and over, and over again fire bursts to life in her belly, as milk-enriched seed meets milk-enriched eggs. Ravenously, Terry’s hot, thick seed sloshes through her womb- attacking and dominating a vast net of her exposed eggs, as all over her belly a ripple of motion happens, half-formed children kicking and moving as a new generation of their family is gestated in her womb. Terry moans, shuddering and twitching as his climax comes to an end, his massive boyco*ck slowly starting to deflate within her hungry womb.

Nick gulps. He looks hungry for that. He climbs off her knee, and down to the ground, reaching out a hand to help pull Terry free. He then looks at Cassarah. “.. Can.. I go next..?”
Even as Nick asks that question, fireworks are still going off in her belly. More, more, more eggs being fertilized, taken over by Terry’s ravenous seed. Every few seconds she’s freshly impregnated with that heat she craves, a new life created in her unnatural womb.

Cassarah was slow to respond, overtaken by that wondrous rapture that was (unknowingly) being bred. That explosion of pure pleasure went off within her womb, again and again, and Cassarah's hands flew to her stomach to wantonly rub its' tremendous surface. She wasn't aware that her eggs, more numerous and volatile than ever, took that wave of seed, and embedded themselves almost immediately, beginning the miracle of life dozens of times over. Many of them twinned on the spot, even multiple times, until Terry had fathered nearly forty children within her in one go. Her belly let out an audible gurgle as Cassarah tried not to sensually moan in delight in front of these precocious little boys.

"Mhm...absolutely, Nick. Terry has showed you how it's done, but that's only one way. Cameron, would you move off the couch for a moment, I want to show Nick there's more than one way to play this game...", Cassarah huffed, breathing audibly in the wake of her breeding-induced climax. Moving off of Terry, and then guiding Terry out of the way, Cassarah got back onto the couch once it was clear. But rather than sit normally, as she did the first time, she got on her hands and knees, massive breasts heaved over the arm of the sofa in front of her. Meanwhile, her belly completely dominated the space beneath her, so much that she was more resting atop it, than it hanging from her. Her womb also offered no space for others, between her knees, and the arm of the sofa where her breasts were supported. Behind Cassarah, however, her rear -and sex- were positioned at a perfect level for a young boy standing on the couch...

"Like this. You just need to put your thing inside, like Terry did. We can do it this way, too..."

Terry mewls absently from one side, sidling towards one exposed breast. He knows how to get his energy back, the very best way. His hands take one hanging breast and guide it to his lips, beginning to suckle away happily at her tit*.

On the other side, Cameron finds himself enraptured by the gurgling belly. His hands slowly pat and stroke the swell of it, exploring the ripples that occasionally cross its surface, for all intent and purposes he’s an innocent, curious shy boy.

Nick, less so. He watches with bated breath, and he almost faints with lust when she wiggles her massive rump in his direction. Cheeks flushed a brilliant red, Nick climbs to the front of the sofa, and his hands carefully grab her ass- tiny fingers utterly engulfed by her massive rear. He swallows, and lets his trousers drop- a surprisingly fat, swollen co*ck erupting from within. Arching slightly with the tightness of his prepubescent skin, his co*ck is wet with pre- and with little preamble, Nick finds where it’s meant to go.

“Okay, hah, ahh.. here goes miss!” Nick warns Cassarah, before he leans all his weight in- and plunges deep into her slit. This angle is even more perfect. Already Cassarah knows this is the ideal angle for breeding. No seed will be lost to gravity this way, and her brood-hungry womb gurgles eagerly in agreement, still processing the last few eruptions of breeding from Terry. The store fills with lurid slaps as Nick f*cks Cassarah the best he can, his slender boyish hips slapping cutely against the massive rump she wears so well. But it does the job- leaving the tip of Nick’s co*ck to ram against her cervix, promising that every last drop of his virile, sloshing cum is going to end up devoured by her belly.

Even for an adult man, there was a vast amount of rear on Cassarah to grip, to sink fingertips into. For a young, prepubescent boy like Nick, the disparity was all the more stark, he had to use his arms to properly embrace that thick rump, and in doing so, his hands nearly disappeared within the plush softness that defined it. Cassarah's voluptuousness was on an entirely different level, unlike anything that the boys had seen, or would see again, without her immediate presence. Even with his unusually erect manhood, Nick had to fight all that lusciousness to get to Cassarah's sex, and drive his co*ck where it was needed most. Once he was in, those cheeks partway embraced him, just as he embraced Cassarah, stretching to grip her wide, wide hips. Nick's frenzied thrusting caused a great deal of jiggling, but Cassarah otherwise remained right where she knelt, far too massive for a boy so much smaller than her to really move.

"It's Cassie! And m-my, you are a natural at this!", Cassarah replied, enduring the compulsion to shudder with delight, feeling the boy behind her try so hard. The mostly-empty room had quite the echo, which caused the sensual sounds of flesh slapping against flesh to bounced throughout the emptied chamber, almost making it seem louder -and more erotic- than it already was. Meanwhile, Cassarah tightened her grip on Nick, just in case he had any inclinations of pulling out. She could safely say that was unlikely, but she had every intention of taking every drop of his seed that she could get!

Nick is forced to slow down somewhat at her encouragement, a whole new host of unnatural, strange new feelings washing through his young frame. He gulps at her praise, arms tightening against her as he begins to ramp up again. And what incredible ramping it is- the slaps of their lurid tryst echoing through the shop, captured only in the eyes of the two co-conspirators to this act of sheer perversion. Terry had latched off her breast by now, watching Nick hammer into Cassarah with awe and a tinge of envy, while Cameron is studying Cassarah closely, head faintly co*cked.

Cassarah doesn’t have awfully long to think about it though. She feels Nick’s co*ck. It’s a firm, fat rod of eager boyish vigor, still throbbing hotly in her folds. And it’s throbbing in a way Cassarah is increasingly intimate with. Nick pants against her back, thrusting as hard as he can manage, his cheeks flushed with lurid head. “.. C.. Cassie..! Ah, hah! I f-feel something.. coming..!” Whether due to fear or simply uncertainty, Nick starts to withdraw- but Cassarah is there to stop him short, thrusting his boyish co*ck deep into her belly again. Nick whimpers, cheeks burning with heat as his legs tremble, co*ck shuddering on the brink of release. “Somethings.. a-about to happen, what do I do?!”

"You keep going, that's how this adult game is played. It'll soon feel really good!", Cassarah panted, speaking between her unsteady breaths of air, fueled by unbridled lust. The boys, not at all aware of the concept of seed, and what it was used for, were justifiably confused with the inevitable conclusion to lovemaking reared ever nearer. Cassarah felt Nick's initial reaction to pull out, in what he likely assumed was the need to relieve himself, but she negated that attempt in its entirety with the vise-like grip she had on his manhood. Instead of allowing him to slip away, she held tighter, squeezing that throbbing organ with her insides, and bending every so slightly forward to better aid the oncoming flow.

Similarly, her womb, so enormous and taut, twitched at that very moment, as if aware of what was coming its way. One hand flew down to stroke it like one would reassure a needy pet, the other gripping one of the breasts the other boys so greedily drank from. A part of Cassarah knew that this was wrong, to take advantage of these boys' innocence, but the rest of her could not be bothered to care. The act simply felt that good, the twisted, perverse nature of it all only making the pleasure that much more intense. Cassarah didn't so much as think it consciously, but she understood that, if she had it her way...she would be 'playing' with boys like Terry all the time. For now, however, she did all she could to milk Nick's co*ck, just as the others had milked her, and looked back at the younger boy as his climax was imminent.

"P-pour it all inside! That's how I get...b-bigger! Milkier! D-don't you want that...!?"

Nick thought he was content. A young, growing up kid, he wanted for few things in his life. Sure his body was starting to change- but he was bigger than most the kids his age because of it. What did adults have that he was missing out on?

In one fell swoop, he learned exactly what it was he was missing. His frame, utterly swallowed up by the woman opposite him, is streaked with sweat from his exertions. Slamming his meaty boy-co*ck into the valley of her hips takes a damn large amount of effort, leaving his hair disheveled and his eyes wild. His ears pound with the sound of his heart slamming through his chest. But through that, her words cut. His eyes widen. That’s what he was missing. Lust. A desire.

White overtakes his vision as that realization comes to Nick. And in parallel, another arrives to Cassarah. That she’s about to be bred. Her body knows as much, at least, as it wrings out Nick’s poor co*ck like a dishrag. And all that effort does not go to waste.

Recently fed by her milk, this wave of seed lacks nothing in virility or volume. Nick releases a strangled cry, and his co*ck bulges, before thick, messy globules of his thick seed begin bubbling into her womb. Already so engorged by countless breedings to this point, it’s a marvel that Cassarah can even feel the streams of sloshing heat as they penetrate her cervix and push into her vast belly. But she can. She is treated to the anticipation of those streams sloshing through her womb, warmth worming it’s way closer and closer to the dense cluster of throbbing heat that is her overtaxed ovaries. And as she feels the currents of Nick’s cum carried into and throughout her baby-factory, the first eruptions of pleasure bloom within. Her belly ripples as she is seeded all over again, the half-grown occupants roused by the flurry of heat and spasms of pleasure in their mother. Taut flesh ripples as virile cum meets eager eggs, to produce more children. An act of tender love, from a perversion most extreme. Nick becomes a father before he’s even become a teenager.

.. Almost two classrooms worth of children pumped into Cassarah’s belly. Two full rooms of children, marked by eruptions of impossible pleasure in her vast dome, seeded by a child less than half her age, in an abandoned furniture stall less than twenty meters from polite society. Her womb settles as the eager swimmers find and stuff Cassarah’s eggs, through volume and division, leaving the poor woman bred even more thoroughly than before. Nick slumps back, sliding out of Cassarah with a lurid noise, sinking back onto the couch as his co*ck finally begins to soften. Terry and Cameron are staring at Cassarah in awe, and to her heightened senses.. she can practically smell the arousal wafting off both of them. It’s very clear Cameron wants his part of the fun- and Terry is rearing for round two.

Cassarah was left biting her lower lip, that great burst of pleasure surging out from her womb enough to ferry her to a thigh-rubbing climax of her own. She didn't understand why, only that the feeling just somehow found a way to keep getting better. Logic would dictate that the thrill would wear off, that the stimulation would start to feel mundane, and yet, it never so much as approached unsatisfying. That very feeling was perhaps the largest incentive to keep doing what she did, and to cross one taboo after another. Dogs were not off limits, little boys were fair game, it all was just so very good. And it was just on the thought of how much fun she was having, did Cassarah turn her attention towards Terry and Cameron, both looking eager to 'play'. For Terry, it would be the second time today, for Cameron, the very first 'adult game' he had ever played. Both were welcome, the only point of deliberation was how to go about it. Patting her belly in a proud manner, as if some part of her had realized the outlandish truth about what was going on inside, Cassarah looked to those boys, happy to give Nick a well-deserved break for all his hard work.

"Nnh...Nick is good at this game, too! Cameron needs a turn, and I see you want to play more too, Terry. Did you want to play this way, like Nick? Or we could try a different way, if you like..."

Cameron regards her nervously. His eyes never quite know where to look. Not for lack of places to travel, but for the sheer amount of them. His eyes keep wandering her supremely pregnant frame, gulping hard as his hands faintly shiver at his side.

“.. I.. don’t..” He whispers. His voice is gentle and sweet, hands clasping together to fidget nervously. He looks to Terry to help, but he just gives a supportive thumbs up. Cameron swallows. “.. That looked.. f-fun too but.. maybe something d-.. different? I’m not.. strong like Nick is..” He admits nervously, his slender body certainly a far cry from the more stout, older body of Nick.

Terry giggles. “I wanna see something new too! Auntie Cassie showed me so many different ways to play last time, you can even do it in a pool!”

Slowly, Cassarah rolled over in her seat, flipping herself to be belly-up once more. She was every bit as enormous as she had been when she entered, if not even larger, with the latest donations. That colossal stomach, periodically rippling with subtle movement, glistened in the dim lights overhead, partially due to the sweat the blonde was working up. Looking to Cameron, she shifted her seated position, spread her legs as wide as possible, and beckoned the shy boy over.

"That's right, there's a lot of ways to play! The pool had been so fun! But you, Cameron, you really like how big my tummy is, don't you? Why not like this?", Cassarah asked, twisting to be on her side, so that the boy had more room. The usual go-to of missionary was perhaps beyond the capabilities of boys so young - Cassarah's belly was simply too large to allow them to get in deep enough. But on her side, with one leg lifted high, there was room, clearance for her lucky partner to slot right in. More importantly, it granted them full access to feeling her belly all they liked, to press up against it, to kiss it, and more. Just thinking about it had Cassarah licking her lips all over again.

"Play with me this way, and help me get even bigger, okay?"

Cameron can’t help but gulp, throat going dry at the sight. Flustered with a cute flush to his cheeks, he slowly approaches- still clothed, and his hands glide across the underside of her massive pregnant swell. He shivers helplessly, completely taken with Cassarah. Terry giggles- and takes advantage of her position to slide up by her front, his hands diving into their favorite resting place, her milky breasts. He grins at Cassarah. “Since I’m being such a good boy by waiting, I can have more milk right?” He cajoles her eagerly with a playful, innocent giggle. Ignorant of the debauchery being committed by Cassarah.

In that time, Cameron carefully removes his bottoms- and slowly lines up with her hips from below. And Cassarah feels the oh-so-satisfying feeling of a cute boys preteen co*ck sliding into her hips. It’s cute, tiny, though with her milk infusing the poor young boy- she feels two over-productive, sloshing balls slap against her rump as he slides down to the base.

“W.. wow.. ahhh..” Cameron mumbles, hands roaming her belly with more and more confidence, as he slowly rocks his hips. Innocent and uncertain, just doing what feels good for him- he begins to slowly push his cute boyco*ck in and out of her slit.

“Won’t you get.. too big..? What if you c-can’t walk soon?” Cameron asks, nervousness still lingering in his tone- even as his tiny fingers find the shallow of her shallow navel- fingers digging in and exploring the rosy spot on her belly.

An assault on two fronts. Around her chest, Terry had returned, eager to guzzle more of her warm, creamy milk. From the other side of her swollen womb, Cameron took his place, practically able to hide himself behind it, as large as it had become. In no hurry, Cassarah took her time addressing her adorable friends' every concerns, all while making a show of just of luscious she really was.

"Terry, I'm happy to share as much as you want to drink. There's still so much left, see?", Cassarah demonstrated, giving her breasts a playful shake. Jostled fiercely enough, they could actually be heard sloshing, like shaking two gallon jugs of milk. Cassarah even snuck in a quick few gulps, effectively eliminating any doubt as to whether she had milk to spare. Afterwards, she turned her gaze towards Cameron, or what she could see of the shy boy, peeking over the crest of her grant belly. Still under the belief that they weren't really contributing to her overall size, Cassarah reassured Cameron with a smile, and a proud pat against her firm belly, which made an audibly smacking noise against her palm.

"Oh, I'll be fine. See, if I'm not getting any stretch marks on my tummy, that means there's still plenty of room. And I can still walk, you don't need to worry about me...", Cassarah murmured, making up what would sound like a convincing reason for the boys. It had been an excuse she conjured on the spot, but it had felt like something the boys could understand. If there weren't any marks, she could still get a whole lot bigger. Anything to put aside their worries, so they could focus on the fun...

"And, if I really do get so big to not be able to walk...then maybe I'll just need a little aid from helpful boys like you, hm?"

Terry giggles, and happily takes up position by the breast Cassarah isn’t nursing, bringing an inverted tip to his lips to suckle from fiercely. Fiercely enough that the shy bud is pulled on fiercely by the suction of his drinking, as all the while- Cassarah gets to feel Terry’s bared, messy co*ck smearing her bare belly with the mess from their mating session as he drinks.

“I.. I don’t know how much help I’d be.. I don’t think I could move you if I tried..” Cameron admits, fingers gliding down her belly as he begins to flush harder. “But- but if you say so..” And, he begins to pick up the pace, his worries partially assuaged. For all his nerves he is not lacking in the virility department- he lasts a little longer than Terry or Nick did, giving Cassarah a few minutes to enjoy nursing herself. Nick even begins to rouse, rolling over to watch the show with flushed cheeks.

All good things do come to an end however, and Cassarah feels it come on quite rapidly. The poor young boy holds out as long as he can, but there’s only so much a first-timer can handle. And Cassarah is definitely not that. He groans into her belly, slumping against it as his hips spasm and tremble with the effort of holding back- before his composure gives out. Cameron cries, and Cassarah feels jet, after jet, after jet of his messy seed burst into her womb. Her poor cervix surrendered long ago- the dog park at the very least, it definitely gave up the ghost. By now her womb accepts every single drop of any seed dumped within. And this is no droplet- Cameron pumps seed into her like a messy, warm hose- a hydrant erupting with a hidden torrent of pressurized seed. For the better part of a minute and a half Cassarah is dosed with Cameron’s breed-hungry sperm that swarm her belly in waves of tingling heat, spreading throughout her vast sloshing womb- before converging, as they always do- at her overactive egg-factory. Her belly erupts in fresh spasms as her poor eggs are violated again. Her body made to incubate more, more, yet more babies for these children- even further cementing her fate as a brood-mother. The consequences of this session won’t be felt for months and months, but with each flash and spark of breeding heat that flourished in her womb- Cassarah’s fate is sealed.
Two more classrooms filled. In the better part of a quarter hour, Cassarah is filled with more than a hundred kids. A small kindergarten worth of pulsing pleasure stuffed into her ever-tighter belly. Not that she knows- or even would care, by now. Every addicting pulse of pleasure from a successful breeding just makes it that much easier to excuse railing a coworker, a child, even a dog.. but judging by the hungry looks on Terry and Nick’s faces.. they’re far from satisfied.

“Are we still.. playing?” Nick asks, and Terry nods emphatically. “Yep! I get another turn now, right Auntie Cassie?”

Cassarah muffled her own, sultry moans through her milk-laden breasts, seeing fit to gulp down her creamy milk while bred by Cameron on that couch. Too late to affect Cameron's donation, that peculiar tingling within her center hinted that the next one 'at bat' would be far more fortunate. Not that Cassarah had noticed, hooked on the erotic sensations that jolted her mind and left her twitching in toe-curling ecstasy, again and again. Cameron had performed as well as she had hoped, ushering her to a level of bliss that simply could not be achieved by anything she did on her own. His words of concern, with her being hobbled by her growing burdens, would proved to be quite accurate in time. With more than a hundred future children made, just this afternoon, and so far, that alone would have been more than enough to cosign Cassarah to immobility in the months to come. But all of that was atop her ever-expanding brood, formed over the last several months. Cassarah wasn't just dooming herself to be anchored in place at some point, she was setting up to put insect queens to shame with her fecundity...not that she had any iota of what she was doing to herself.

"Good job, Cameron! All three of you are really good at this game, especially for the two of you...mhm...trying it for the first time.", Cassarah huffed, all thoughts of what she had come to the mall for in the first place melting away in lieu of the pursuit of additional pleasure. Terry's eagerness, however, brought a wide smile to her face, and she squeezed her breasts together with her forearms, all while caressing her stomach.

"Oh yes, Terry. It's your turn again! Did you also want to try something different? You could...lay on the couch, and I sit on top. Though we have to be careful, I'm very big, as you can see..."

"And we're making you bigger!" Terry affirms cheerily, grinning at Cassarah in reply. Eager to please and happy to do as she asks, the tiny young boy clambers onto the couch, ready to play some more. And play, they do. Terry's next round is a messy, noisy affair as Cassarah needs to clamber over her own belly to find his cute little co*ck. But the reward is all worth it, as his hands become devoted to pleasuring her vast, rippling swell. He pounds up into her womb with vigor and the pure ecstasy of youth- and with the milk sitting heavy in his and her belly, when eventually Terry finds his release- the resultant deluge leaves her belly throbbing with heat, as it's impregnated over, and over, and over again by his pure, lustful desires. More children sired, more young packed into her poor overfull womb.

And the fun doesn't stop there. Nick and Cameron are tired of waiting, and end up attacking Cassarah as she rolls off Terry. On the floor of this old, dusty furniture store the two young boys cling to Cassarah possessively. Were anyone to come check the odd sounds echoing within, there'd be no excuse for what debauchery was taking place. Naked young boys fighting over themselves, cuddling against her breasts to suckle away- and the lucky one between her spread legs, that gets to make Cassarah squeal and moan. Nick is forceful and firm. He leaves her hips a bit red with the hard effort he puts in, slamming his fatter co*ck up into her belly and womb with each thrust. He loves doing her where she's laid back under him, hands on her thighs and pounding into her exposed belly. When he releases, the resultant wave of heat and pleasure is truly overwhelming. And she barely gets a moments rest before Cameron's co*ck replaces his. Cute, small, but accompanied by two truly tremendously packed balls full of seed, it's clear that the boy is far from finished. He clambers up onto her and cuddles her, rutting her hips messily, nervously, but he whimpers how much he loves her, how much she excites him in an endless stream of compliments to her fecund form. When he erupts it's an explosive affair that leaves them smelling of musk and cum, smearing the walls of her womb with his baby batter as the excess swirls in her belly, hunting for fresh eggs to overtake. The only thing keeping them going is her milk- keeping her ovaries throbbing and their co*cks needy. Time is beginning to slip away as Terry comes back for thirds, and the two boys begin attacking her breasts for more of that sweet nectar..

---

... How long has it been? An hour.. two.. four? What is time, really? When the only measure of time passing is the fresh feeling of a new lance of pleasure through her belly, what's the point in keeping track. The three young boys are merciless. Excited and enticed by Cassarah's own lust.. it soon becomes clear that she's awoken a special kind of monster. Not that she had any warning, after all all she knows is her milk is delicious.. not how it has so many additives, hormonal adjustments and supplements that it can hardly be called safe. Cameron and Nick take that supplement and run with it. Cameron comes out of his shell to f*ck Cassarah again and again, calling her Cassie, mewling. A true addict to her milk, he gulps it down any time he gets and repays her with those potent balls of his- being sure to tenderly and affectionately stuff her womb with her seed. Twice becomes three times, then five, then eight.. until who's really counting?

She always knows when Nick takes over. Brash, ready, excitable. He's the only one to really make her belly bounce. He slams into her rump with echoing, noisy thrusts. Once, long ago- she might have been worried about being heard. But by now such worries are far from the present. His seed sloshes noisily in her belly now, mingling with that of Cameron as well, gurgling and groaning as her womb struggles to process it all. Even her over-productive ovaries struggle to keep up with the sheer floods coming from these boys. But, even as Nick and Cameron flag and lose their stamina at last.. Terry continues.

Terry is methodical. He knows Cassarah loves it slow, loves being rutted while her belly is kissed and cuddled. So he does. He takes her on her back, between her legs. He cuddles up to her stomach, cooing and mewling as his hips buck his cute boyco*ck against her cervix. And her erupts in her. And her belly ripples, just a little bigger. And he drinks her milk. Then, he does it again. And again. And again. The store smells of their debauched lovemaking as Terry lavishes her with a special kind of affection only made possible by his previous drinking of her milk, and the new infusion she's given him. He dotes on Cassarah for hours, slowly f*cking her senseless with loving pumps of his fat boy-co*ck, every few minutes bringing a fresh eruption of seed to slosh into her belly. The lights are dimmed by the time Terry finally slows down in his seeding, leaning against her sagging, sloshing gut as it churns away desperately at all the seed inside her. Every time her ovaries manage to prepare another egg, it is instantly impregnated. Every thirty seconds or so a fresh wave of heat and breeding warmth invades her belly as she's simply backed up on cum, waiting for eggs to fill. Terry leans on her with a blissful grin, nestled between her significantly deflated tit* with a smile on his face.

"Hahhh.. haa... we really.. did make you a lot bigger, didn't we..?" He giggles, dazed and sleepy- as he cuddles up to Cassarah.

What had started as a 'quick' detour with three, precocious boys had turned into a marathon breeding session with some pint-sized studs. Surely, with all the time that had passed, their absence would be noticed, that there would be people looking for the three. And yet, despite being aware of the danger that came with her continued association with the three, Cassarah simply could not pull herself away. A slave to their virile co*cks as much as they were addicts to her milk, the blonde stop counting how many times they 'played', and instead focused squarely on making sure it was fun for all those involved. That included entertaining the two others when one using her, often by encouraging them to gulp down fresh, warm milk straight from the cap, and cuddle into her enormous breasts to regain their energy. All the while, the remaining boy would buck and pump and hump their way into dumping yet another potent load of spunk into her womb. And thanks to Cassarah guzzling her own milk whenever her breasts weren't occupied, there always was more eggs to claim, more future children to make.

And while Cassarah might have 'made up' the part of their efforts making her bigger, something she could easily support with her children's natural growth over time, there was no denying that her belly was bigger, by the time all three boys were too exhausted to continue. Load after load had been poured into her, at a downward angle, to encourage that not even a drop could escape. Cassarah and the others may have stunk of sex, but it wasn't because it was clinging to their skin, Cassarah's womb greedily drank everything that it was given, all while throbbing for more. Cassarah had no idea as to the threshold that she had crossed this day, exponentially adding to her total brood, over the course of a single afternoon. All she could feel was the pleasure, the satisfaction of a wondrous afternoon...and the sense she might never tire of playing around with adorable little boys..

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Fortunately for Cassarah, on that day, what would have assuredly gotten her in trouble was narrowly avoided. Little Terry's mother, ever eager to rely on 'free' childcare services, had gone on a several-hour shopping spree, giving Cassarah just enough time to return him and his friends before she had returned. Cassarah disappeared from the mall before she ever needing to provide an answer for what had transpired, but she did so with a souvenir. Or more precise, a lot of souvenirs. An absurd amount of children were unknowingly seeded within that incredible womb of hers that afternoon, leaving Cassarah fated to grow all the more in the days and weeks to follow.

---

And grow she did, as it was something her body was now best at. Larger, rounder, milkier. Day by day, inch by inch, cup size after cup size. Cassarah might have spent most of the time conducting business as usual, but anyone with eyes could see the difference mounting as days passed by. Passages that Cassarah had waddled through easily one week became tight the next, if not blocked entirely. Her movement, impressively graceful on high heels, had an increasingly exaggerated sashay, simply due to gravity, and the inertia of those outrageous curves. Wardrobe changes were common, and wardrobe malfunctions more and more frequent. What rode up one Tuesday had buttons popping the next. And Cassarah's cup size had long since run a lap of the alphabet, poised on making a second pass, with each breast so much larger than her head.

Cassarah's condition, only partway completed, still swelled on the daily, and it was in this state, that the day of the conference had finally arrived. After a long drive to the airport, calling upon a vehicle spacious enough to ferry her, Cassarah met with Mr. Sakimodo as agreed, eventually boarding a private, company jet, chartered for the very trip. Cassarah, barely able to squeeze herself through the door, was relived to find the flight barely occupied, beyond the pilots and necessary crew. The main cabin was just her and Sen, allowing her to relax somewhat...as much as anyone could around their boss. Mr. Sakimodo, of course, was no more tranquil, having to spend several hours sharing the same room with the most immense pregnancy there ever was. Cassarah might have donned one of her dress shirts, white skirts, and matching suit jackets, but utterly failed to cover much of that colossal pregnancy, at all. The button up really only covered her breasts, each like a yoga ball in scope. When the plane rumbled for take off, those monstrous udders were quick to quake within their tight confines...and slow to still themselves afterwards. Sen had much to appreciate on the several-hour flight towards Los Angeles...
Narrator

For his part, Sen Sakimodo is the exact picture of professionalism as they board and depart. Dressed dapperly in a dark suit with navy tie, hair freshly trimmed and an easy smile on his face- he settles into the main cabin with Cassarah. As the plane hums to life, Cassarah can see cracks in that facade beginning to show. Both at the veritable show she's putting on- and even his facade can't mask the man's discomfort at their slightly bumpy departure. It seems the man isn't all that comfortable aboard a plane. As the ascent is completed and they can unfasten from their seats, Sen does so with relief- rising and smiling at Cassarah opposite him, only faintly forced through his own relief at escaping the rumbling motion of the plane.

"Would you like a hand with your belt?" He asks, somewhat playfully, as he settles beside Cassarah. She's spread out across several portions of the large loungers on this private jet certainly, but regulations are regulations. Sen's hands are delicate as they find the buckles for the belt and unfasten them, knuckles grazing her belly as they do so.

"I must say, you are positively blooming these days Cassarah. I may need to up that meal stipend, if current trends continue. How has your pregnancy been progressing of late..?" He inquires, a hand finding itself ghosting the vast curve of her stomach. His eyes fight to meet her gaze- often drawn down into the wobbling masses of yoga-ball sized tit* currently swaying within her garments.

"All is well, as far as I know. But now that you mention the stipend, I do recall I am feeling hungrier more often as of late. Perhaps I should have gotten that third sandwich at the airport, after all...", Cassarah uttered, doing her best to downplay the absurdity that was her own figure, which was easier said than done. Thanks to just how much her breasts had grown, propped atop a tremendous, pregnant belly, seeing what was directly in front of her was trickier than ever. Mr. Sakimodo had been required to fasten the belt in Cassarah's seat for her, and he was definitely needed to un-fasten it once the plane was well into the air. No amount of stretching, twisting or wriggling could change that. Cassarah couldn't hope to reach around her massive belly with it's popped-out navel if she tried. Her arms reached but a fraction across its incredible surface, a portion that was becoming smaller and smaller by the day.

And yet, for all the embarrassment that came with needing aid from Sen, Cassarah couldn't say that she disliked being helped out, either. Being served, being attended to. It was something she could definitely get used to, just as she could get used to the feeling of her stomach rubbed where she could no longer grace, herself. For that very reason, Cassarah didn't protest Mr. Sakimodo's touch in the slightest. If anything, she encouraged it through her smoldering gaze, and her playful body language.

"We do have meals for the flight, yes? It would not be out of order to have some early, would it? The...little ones, are feeling particularly restless, today.", Cassarah hummed, rubbing her belly in small circles, as it rippled and shook in response to their combined touch. Six months in, movement was becoming easier and easier to spot...as well as feel.

Sen seems surprised by the motion, seeming momentarily enraptured by it. He smiles despite himself, a thumb trailing the ripples that flow across the distended reaches of her womb. "Mm. All that jostling must have woke them up. Just a moment." He takes one hand off her belly to retrieve his phone, sending a brief message, before he settles back against Cassarah. No longer just beside, but now leaning his shoulder on her vast stomach, and partially the swollen breast above.

"You needn't worry- I had anticipated you'd need a little more than the standard fair we keep on board." Sen explains, as from the crew quarters- a large trolley is rolled out. Steam wafts off it from freshly heated portions of pulled pork, steamed buns, and a large pot of stir-fried rice, still warm from the kitchens. The attendant simply bows her head to Sen. "Much obliged. Though, could you prepare another portion? The madam is feeling rather peckish after the lift-off." The woman, still silent- bows her head again and departs to the crew quarters once more.

Sen rises from his seat, and takes to the cart- considering the meals on hand. "Mm.. there's not much room to put these in reach of you, is there? I suppose I'll just have to.." He lifts a pork bun from the tray, and with one hand balancing on her vast swell- he leans up into her cleavage, over it, to deliver the pork bun to her lips.

Cassarah never imagined the day would come where she was hand-fed by her own boss on a private jet, but she had never imagined outgrowing a Q-cup, either. With utter lack of table space, or even so much as a lap to put a place on, Mr. Sakimodo felt there was no other option but to personally deliver the morsels to Cassarah's full lips. There was only a moment of hesitation from the fabulous fecund blonde. Certainly, it was a little embarrassing, but her hunger hadn't been exaggerated, and the freshly prepared meals smelled so very good. She opened her mouth to have one bite, and then another, and in an inverse of her expectations, those initial mouthfuls only seemed to leave her hungrier for more. She looked to Sen as a peculiar warmth slowly spread out from her stomach, despite the interior of the plane's cabin being kept at a comfortable temperature.

"M-my, this is exquisite! No - mhm - expense was spared for this trip, hm?", Cassarah asked, breaking some personal rules on etiquette to eat and talk at the same time. She got the feeling that Mr. Sakimodo didn't mind, not when he kept pushing more and more her way, at a steady pace. The food was delicious, she was poised to down everything put past her lips. But her eyes swept across the room -or what she could see of it, past her chest- and wondered about drink. Usually, things like champagne and wine were common on such flights, but given her condition, was their a suitable alternative, to accompany her meal? Slowly, Cassarah eyes drifted right back towards her own breasts, bigger, fuller, and more productive than ever.

Could she really? In front of her own boss...?

Sen continues the metaphorical and literal gravy train without any brakes, humming faintly as he brings morsel after morsel up to Cassarah’s lips- stealing no less than many glances down into the cleavage he’s leaning over. A complete win-win for the man. But, he is not blind- and he notices Cassarah’s pace slackening, and her eyes wandering about, and.. downward. Sen clears his throat, lowering a cinnamon bun that was directed towards her lips, as he tilts his head faintly.

“Is something the matter?” He hums, curious, inquisitive. The tone is the same neutral way he often speaks- hiding his approval or disapproval behind that expression of interest, behind expectation of an honest answer. He peers at Cassarah, the half-loaded trolley behind him still laden with meals to stuff her with, a faint flicker of impatience to his countenance.

A part of Cassarah wanted to take her time, to savor the flavor of every treat that was sent her way. She was especially fond of the sweets, glazed, chocolatey, and more. It was a love that had only been amplified by her expectant condition, her many children having seemingly inherited that sweet tooth of hers, bringing that craving to dazzling, new heights. But for all that Cassarah ate, her thirst never went away, it only became more of an issue as she increasingly needed something to compliment all the lovely food. Cassarah wriggled in the seat that could barely hold her widened backside and enormous pregnant belly, feeling the sloshing of a staggering quantity of milk, right below her chin. What started out as hesitance gave way to temptation, Cassarah's hands drifting towards the same place where her gaze had been lowered.

"I...must admit that I could use a...drink, to go with all of this. I didn't see too much that was non-alcoholic, so I think I may as well...have some of my own...", Cassarah mused, hands trembling as they reached for the buttons that stoically held her buttoned shirt shut. Unfastening them let slip her bountiful, bound breasts with an audible plap of flesh colliding, revealing the monster mammaries supported in an equally monstrous, lacy bra. Having gone that far, Cassarah didn't wait much longer to yank the cups down, and unveil the inverted nipples that were hiding behind them. She them demonstrated, right before Sen, just what she meant when she pushed and mashed one of those tremendous tit* up towards her lips...and started to gulp down her own milk! She would not, however, drink unceasingly, for she had spied the cart, and all that had remained for her consumption. The milk was not to replace her meal...it was to accompany it.

"...t-there. That...that is more like it..."

In a word, Sen’s response is.. stoic. He watches her drink from her own breast with the same neutral look, obscuring his own thoughts as she sates herself. There is a lull to the feeding rhythm as Sen processes, but once she lets her breast fall from her lips- his hands move as if on autopilot, bringing another sweet, glazed confection to her lips. It seems that perhaps Sen is aware of her inclination towards all things sweet- because the cinnamon roll is followed by a tray of donut centres, then eclairs, and rich, fudgy brownies after that.

His hands move at a steady tempo to bring her food just as she finishes swallowing. Never enough time to settle, it is a constant march- an assault on her waistline of the foremost order. Finally, Sen voices a query- once Cassarah finishes devouring a whole tray of buttery shortbread biscuits.

“Might I sample your milk as well, Cassarah?” He asks, at last giving voice to the roiling desire burning in his chest. Indeed his eyes rarely divert far from where her weeping breast now lies, uncovered. Watching the faint stream of milk sloping down the flank of it. He swallows faintly, eyes rising to meet hers, once again presenting that cool, collected exterior of his.

Cassarah leaned back in her chair, not only feeling larger than when she had boarded the plain, but looking it, too. All that food, all that milk, it was steadily stuffing the blonde, pushing her already colossal stomach further and further outward. The pace was subtle, but ever-so gradually, the span of her belly had crept further outward, skin stretching to accommodate more and more. Cassarah was well aware of the tightness, and yet, she had not reached her limit. Whether it was food or her own milk, there always seemed to be a little bit room for more. But having had so much already, she couldn't overlook how generous Sen had been already, and how it was only fair that she reciprocate the gesture, any way she could. Having been gulping from her right breast, she gestured towards her left, notably fuller and rounder than the one on the right, thanks to how much Cassarah had put away. It wouldn't do to be so uneven. And so, with an alluring smile, Cassarah stopped her own, gluttonous guzzling, and hoisted the left breast so that her very own boss could partake as he saw fit.

"You may, sir. There is...much to share. They are so very...productive..."

Sen smiles at that. He leans in, and his hands settle on the vast slope of her chest. They knead, working the milk up to the surface, exploring the softness of her bosom for just a moment- before Sen leans in. And just like the many other addicts she’s created to her milk, he gasps in surprise at the taste, before drinking in earnest. Sen groans at the warmth blossoming in his belly, in his core, and.. in lower places. Forced to mount the side of her stomach, Cassarah feels the result of her milk on him too. Those suit trousers of his do few favors in disguising the growing bulge of Sen’s arousal, as he drinks deeply of her milk. After nearly a minute of guzzling, Sen finally pulls away with a gasp, flushing in his cheeks as he licks his lips.

“.. Such a deep flavor. I’m not even sure where to begin describing it. Have you considered bottling your milk?” He asks, a jest- though with the hunger in his eyes it might only partly be one.

“But- it would not do to neglect you. Please.” Sen turns crisply, and picks up a quivering slice of cheesecake, guiding it up to her lips- the next slice of the glorious cake soon on the way.

The interior of the cabin might have been climate-controlled to a comfortable seventy degrees Fahrenheit, but it might as well have been a sauna for how steamy the air got between executive and his direct subordinate. What had started with playful teasing and the occasional innuendo, had transitioned to foreplay by another name. Sen's hands were upon Cassarah's outlandishly voluptuous body, and there wasn't a complaint to be had from the buxom blonde. She encouraged Sen to feel, almost as much as she encouraged him to keep passing her delightful morsels, one after another. Again, and again, he had to reach over her tremendous, wobbling breasts to get towards her lips, and every time, she would leave nothing in his hands beyond the slight moisture from her tongue just barely gracing his fingertips. Whenever Sen reached back to get another bite for her to eat, she reached for her own breast, and wrapped her lips around the nipple to suckle even more of that sweet, sweet cream. The men in her life hadn't been the only ones to realize its' splendor.

"I have...but not only is that a little troublesome...", Cassarah began, pausing to sensually pick apart another brownie from Sen, "...I have come to the conclusion it is best...from the tap...", Cassarah huffed, going right back to washing down the chocolate with a chug from her own udders. Not unnoticed, however, was the prodding she was getting from below, growing more insistent by the minute..

"Ah, after our meal...it would be best to get some 'exercise' in, no?"

“You’ve read my mind. Appropriate physical conditioning is necessary for ensuring your meals go to the right places. You must be quite litigious with your regime, to keep the figure you have now.” Sen hums. One hand focused on delivering each delicacy to Cassarah’s lips, running up and down the list of rare and delightful treats to enjoy. The other worships her. He lavishes her belly with the most love, rubbing it, teasing it, exploring as it gurgles and groans with each addition to its vast bulk. And on occasion it rises to her bulky chest, supporting her breast as he helps himself to her milk. Nowhere near the volumes she enjoys, but enough to keep a pleasant warmth in his chest- and to only intensify the swelling, throbbing problem that insistently grinds against her pregnant bulk.

Another trolley emptied, and another, then a third.. it seems like the supply of food might very well be endless. All hand-delivered by Sen’s delicate hands, till Cassarah is fully sated and stuffed to the brim. And as her hunger fades, his only grows- knowing what awaits beyond her gorging, his insistent groping of her belly only growing more and more spirited.

“How are we feeling, Cass? Another trolley?” He asks, having vacated the fifth in her mammoth binge. The lingering taste of rich chocolate and cream from the cakes she’s just enjoyed linger on her lips, mingling wonderfully with the taste of her milk, and Sen waits expectantly- ready to order more, or command some privacy if need be.

"There is...even more...?", Cassarah breathed, her tone tinged with lust. She had eaten so much, the vast majority of it decedent sweets, yet, the allure of having even more was too good to pass up. In what she had yet to realize was the cravings backed by hundreds of babies within her brood-bearing belly, Cassarah stroked her wide, rounded middle...and agreed. "Yes...I think I would like another trolley. And then, to not be disturbed for a little while..."

She made up her mind as she was licking her lips, clearing them from some stray bits of chocolate from chocolate-covered strawberries that had been hand-fed her. Even a glance at her outlandishly gravid form made it perfectly clear that the clothes that had barely managed to fit before would be hard pressed to cover her again. That belly of hers had grown, gurgling with all that she ate, and rippling with the staggering amount of life it had come to contain. At the far end, far, far from Cassarah's ability to reach, was her navel, popped-out and utterly refusing to return to the concave thing it once was. There was not a single stretch mark across that profoundly pregnant pearl of an abdomen.

"Come, I think I could do with some filling...in both ends..."

To oblige his paramour, Sen furtively orders that two more carts of goods be brought into their cabin, before issuing the order that after that, they are not to be disturbed. His cheeks warming at her tone, as his thumb circles her popped-out navel, feeling how taut her skin has gotten.

“From both sides, you say.. that’ll be quite the feat. But, you are the foremost expert.. I will follow your example.” Sen affirms, leaning up for one last gulp of her milk- swallowing it down greedily, before putting both hands to task in rubbing, stroking and servicing her belly. Any gurgles, he is quick to massage away. Tight spots, soreness, his hands gravitate to magnetically, soothing her vast pregnant orb with a tender, attentive care.

The attendant wheels in the last two trolleys. Both are stacked tall with glistening meals. One, dominated by a row of glazed donuts, sprinkled with nuts, chocolate and other toppings. Below it is a rack of gooey cookies, chocolate, double chocolate, and triple of course. The other has two large bowls. One of a delicate construction of deep-fried ice cream- several scoops, joined by a rich cream and wafer. The other large bowl has a caramel-drizzled terrine, cold vapour rising from the chilled dessert. The attendant brings them both to the pair, and then bows- swiftly departing the cabin. Briefly Sen departs from Cassarah’s side, only to lock the door in. He then turns, smiling back at the broadly pregnant woman.

“I’m all yours. How might I be of service..?”

Slowly, Cassarah pushes against her tortured seat, the chair that had been forced to bear the weight of much over the course of the flight, thus far. Cassarah was, undeniably, slowed by the mass of her bountiful burden, where thoughts of running anywhere were saved for another time. The most Cassarah could manage was a steady waddle, a ponderous pace to any destination. Fortunately for her, the distance was short, she merely had to step toward one of the more spacious, couch-like seats that lined the sides of the cabin. There she lowered herself onto her side, after she shed herself of her tight, tight skirt looking every bit the portrait of a fertility goddess of classical antiquity, minus the more mythological elements. Her fertile figure, unlike any other, wobbled enticingly as Cassarah spread her thighs and kept one leg lifted as high as her belly would allow, utilizing the couch as support. Neither her thigh-high stockings or that tiny pair of panties would get in the way of where Sen was needed most.

"You can start by bringing me those donuts to enjoy...and then giving me plenty of filling, too..."

Perhaps not mythological, but one would be hard-pressed not to call Cassarah and her stomach supernatural. At least, if they knew what was happening within. As things stand, all Sen does is ogle her incessantly, smirking as she settles. Obediently he rolls the tray over to within her reach, the other soon parked next to it.

“By your command~” Sen purrs. Unaware of the dream he is fulfilling, unaware of how this is just a precursor of what’s to come. He walks behind her, hands unfastening his trousers- they fall to the floor with a clink. And he leans in, hands sinking into her thighs and helping to support Cass with a low grunt of effort, wedging himself under one thigh so it hooks onto his shoulder. And at last.. he aligns with her womb. His fingers peel away her tiny panties, and with them gone- he leans his hips in. There’s a lurid slurp as Sen sinks into her slit. Barely any resistance now, as he shudders with pleasure, rocked by it as he stumbles forward- right down to the base.

His swollen, fat co*ckhead rams into her cervix roughly, gouging out her womb and opening the way for the breeding to come. And as he sinks down to her depths, Sen shudders in a panicked fashion.

“f*ck- I- I can’t— Ngghh!!”

And Cassarah is bred. It seems that all the anticipation, the milk, the grinding on her belly.. it was too much for poor Sen. And bent forward as she is, Cassarah gets to enjoy every lurid moment as she feels gouts of his virile cum slam through her cervix, up into her womb. The waves of heat flood her belly as his eager sperm hunt down her obscenely productive ovaries. And her favorite feeling in the world crackles to life, with an audible gurgle- this time from her womb. Lances of pleasure accompany the lances of thick, warm seed stuffed into her womb as Cassarah is bred thorough by her boss. What’s another twenty, thirty babies though? Her womb is still ravenous- and even as his co*ck shudders in the wake of his climax, Sen is no softer than he was before.

“.. I.. I’m sorry. About that.. but I think I can keep going..” Sen mumbles. He sounds shocked, surprised at himself. And he slowly, hesitantly, rocks his hips- and starts making her hips sing with lurid, wet slaps.

Cassarah is left licking her lips once more, and not just because she was sensually snacking on glazed donuts at the same time. That feeling of being filled -the other way- was no less delightful as it had been every time before. Even while she was stuffing her face, Cassarah couldn't keep herself from moaning, and shuddering, from the spike of pleasure that shot towards the depths of her belly, and flowed outward from head to toe. In it's wake, Cassarah was overcome with a feeling of bliss, one that was more than enough to convince her to keep going with Sen. With the hand that wasn't putting more treats to her lips, Cassarah stroked what she could reach of her belly in large, slow circles...as if willing the growth of her many children.

"Nothing to apologize for. I can keep going too. And if you get thirsty...well, I'm right here...", Cassarah giggled, giving her colossal breasts a seductive heft from below, which had them spilling over the sides of her palm. It was without question two hands were needed to properly hoist those melons. The sight of that spurs Sen on even further. He grabs her hips more tightly, and slams up into her from below with a grunt.

“If you’re offering a drink, I’d better sweat enough to earn it then.” Sen affirms with a lurid grunt, his hands digging into her softness as he begins rutting the heavily pregnant goddess once again. Well fed, thoroughly bred- on a luxury flight all expenses paid.. what more could Cassarah want for? Her babies seem happy- ripples of their pleasure leaving her belly lurching and bulging at its sides. Sen is fascinated by the patterns they draw, as he pants for breath.

“How.. how far along are you, anyway? Ugh, hell you’re like a vice.. heh.. hungry from both ends.” He grunts, arching his back, committing to shorter, sharper thrusts now. He attacks her womb with gusto and heat- the cabin full with the sounds of their lovemaking, flesh on moist flesh. The scents of his sweat and her milk, mingling with that of sugar and sweets. And the feeling of an overfull, yet hungry belly churning away, as Sen leans over her vast belly- red in the face, as he c*ms again.

Lances of heat throb throughout her womb, but.. though the pleasure is blissful, compared to the rapid, thorough pleasure she got from the three young boys before she left.. she’s not nearly had enough yet. Her womb yearns for more, the height of pleasure not yet reached. And Sen pants on her belly as he spurts his thick load for a second time, co*ck still hard and throbbing- clearly still having some vigor left to use. How much, is a different question altogether.

Like some hedonistic queen, Cassarah had been all-too happy to pop one decedent chocolate into her mouth after another, all while having only leg draped over Sen's shoulder in their carnal coupling so high in the air. But as always, it was that special feeling, the sensation of having her tremendous womb stuffed with even more seed, that got her shuddering and shivering with marked delight. "Oooh...!T-that's it! So wondrous...!", Cassarah remarked, initially unaware that Mr. Sakimodo had even asked her a question. She was just too caught up in savoring the feeling, just as she savored the flavor of sweets upon her tongue, her arms stroking what portion of her belly she could still reach. But Sen's expectant look clued the buxom blonde in on what she had overlooked, and blushed, clearing her throat before speaking once more.

"H-how far...? I believe...I am in my sixth month, or such...", Cassarah murmured, slightly stretching the truth. Her own enormity was now lost on her, and admitting that she wasn't even that far along -still at the last week or so of month five- felt like it was inviting unnecessary questions. But even that fell far short of justifying just how huge was, well beyond women that are ready to drop while having high-order multiples. A normal, six-months-along maternity would have been noticeable and rounded, but nothing extraordinary. Cassarah's belly, large enough to contain a full grown adult curled up, was nowhere close to anything resembling ordinary.

"Is...that a problem, sir? That I will be pregnant, and growing, for three months yet...?"

Sen murmurs the same. "Six months.." He whispers, his eyes studying Cassarah's vast womb with an interested.. knowing, look. He smiles, a broad smirk- as his hands grope not at her swollen chest, her heavy hips- but her massive belly. Groping the taut skin, kneading it, treating it with a sensual, loving touch down its vast flanks. Breathless, yet finding himself aroused yet again- Sen pulls back, and the lurid sounds of their mating echoes through the private cabin yet again. "The only problem is the need to wait that long.."

Cassarah can luxuriate, as Sen treats her- frankly, like a princess. A decadent platter of sweets simply continue to join the ones already gurgling away in her well-stuffed belly, in more than one sense. And her hips continually bounce as the mans co*ck is rammed up into her depths, filling her insides with his firm warmth over, and over again. She feels every bump, the arch to his swollen co*ck within her belly, the pulsing of his approaching, inevitable release as his poor body simply begins to give up the ghost. He f*cks her fertile body as hard, for as long, as he can. Ropes and ropes of his sticky seed glaze the inside of her vast belly, gradually declining in the bulk of breeding material he can give. Without a history of nursing at her chest.. Sen simply reaches his limit, after thoroughly stuffing Cassarah with four of his creamy, rich loads, her bumpy, active belly hungrily eating up and making good use of all that sloshing, virile cum. Fireworks go off in her belly at regular intervals as her eggs are found again, and again, and again by the hungry swimmers within her vast womb. A long, protracted twenty minutes of being bred, as Sen drinks his fill of her milk- slumping helplessly back onto the couch, almost as empty as the carts of food.

Cassarah catches in her bliss.. the sound of the cabin door clicking. Clicking shut. Which means that a moment ago, as she was so thoroughly stuffed with another batch of children- that they had a witness. Sen simply has not noticed, basking in his afterglow helplessly.

"Hah.. huff.. guh. As much as the mind is willing.. any more cum you wring out from me will probably dry me out." Sen admits, his body bared and naked, the sleek muscle of her superior slick with a sheen of sweat, his half-hard co*ck still dribbling the last of his cum down its length.

Cassarah found that, for not being a typical erogenous zone, an impromptu belly-massage was every bit as welcome to a grope to her bust, or her rear. Like a contented cat, she stretched her limbs and basked in Sen's caress, delighted to feel another's touch in places where she could no longer reach. That, however, heralded the conclusion of their lovemaking for the time being, Mr. Sakimodo having exhausted the totality of his stamina. He huffed and panted, reclining on what little room remained on the couch. Cassarah, still riding her own, satisfied high, judged her boss as having performed quite well. That, coupled with not wanting to go against her own word, prompted the executive blonde to slowly hoist her fertile figure back into an upright position, where she began to cradle her tremendous breasts in her arms once more.

"That's no good, sir. You need to stay hydrated. And I do believe that I had promised you some...?", Cassarah asked, her playful squeezes of her milk-laden tit* making it perfectly obvious as to just what she was referring to. Mashing those massive mounds together from the sides with her palms, enough pressure caused her inverted nipples to spring another leak, even after all that Cassarah had guzzled, herself. There was still plenty to share with her boss, and knowing that nursing was just as lovely as drinking it herself, Cassarah was happy to provide. There was the question of that door nearby clicking shut on its own, that somebody aboard the plane was playing voyeur, but Cassarah didn't see the need to worry Mr. Sakimodo of what felt like a trivial issue. The mood was steamy in the passenger cabin of the plane, as far as Cassarah was concerned, there just wasn't any sense in doing something to ruin it.

"Well...care to have a drink? Of course, I could save it for another time..."

Mr Sakimodo surveys the pure.. bounty, that is on display. Exhausted as he is, the idea is.. impossibly tempting. He swallows and heaves one breast in both hands, feeling the soft, heavy, milky surface for himself. Breathing out a sigh of nothing short of bliss, he drinks in the scent, the feel for a moment.. but his lips curl with a smile that is nothing short of devious. He contemplates for a moment.

".. Well, Miss Wilhelm. You see. I was considering this during my preparations for this trip.. our office has made certain allowances, for your particular.. issues regarding your chest, and your milk. But in a professional environment- I have to ensure you are the part of a consummate professional. And with the way you seem to stain your blouses.. I found a solution."

He rises, bared to the world- showing off his toned thighs, rear, and muscular back. He walks over to one of the cabins, opens up his personal luggage- and retrieves two foamy, plastic.. clamps. Rounded and shallow, the pair of devices are utterly confusing, but Sen approaches with both of them. "Just hold still for a moment." He says- his voice not a suggestion.. but in that low, commanding tone she's used to. His delicate fingers take the pair of clamps and wrap each around the tender, inverted peaks of her nipples. It takes some work, to actually gather enough of her vast areolae, given her cute inverted peaks, but once both devices are attached- he cranks the sides of them.. until Cassarah can feel the pressure they exert on the poor peaks of each breast. Not a drop will escape.

".. There. They're thin, but tough. As long as we keep you furnished with bras, it won't be obvious.. and it will keep you decent for the conferences. What do you think?"

Getting told to clamp up her chest, rather than partake, hadn't at all been Cassarah's expectation, but her astonishment wore off quickly. She didn't need to be told that, on some days, her abundant milk production proved to be particularly troublesome when it came to keeping her clothes dry. It happened enough times around the office that she had been slipping more and more absorbent padding in her giant, custom-ordered bras, just so that the milk wouldn't completely soak through and form dark stains that everyone could see. That worked well enough when she could go home at the end of the day and replace the padding at home, but on a business trip, it was easy to see why that strategy would no longer be feasible. An alternative solution had to be found, and Sen, far more creative than Cassarah had taken him for, had seemingly found one.

The clamps were...not the most comfortable, but not so much that Cassarah couldn't get used to it, with time. The important part was that they worked , which Cassarah then proved when she gave one of her head-dwarfing breasts an experimental squeeze with both hands. Even trying to get milk to gush out was effectively stopped by the seal. They worked exactly as advertised.

"They're...really working...", Cassarah whispered in bewilderment, feeling how the area around her areolae had remained dry. Shaking, bouncing, or otherwise swaying her breasts showed that the clamps wouldn't accidentally dislodge, either. It appeared that a solution had indeed been found. "This will definitely keep me dry! I'll keep them on for the entirety of the conference. Thank you so much, sir!"

Sen smiles at his subordinate, a calm, collected smile, as he savors the taste collected on his lips, and can only imagine how rich it’ll become given a few weeks of containment. He nods magnanimously, leaning back to relax.

“No trouble at all. I want you to give the best impression possible of our team.”

With those false, easy words- the rest of the trip is completed without incident. Checking in at the hotel is a breeze, and it’s unsurprising that Sen collapses into bed the moment one is presented. Cassarah did wring him out thoroughly.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

California at last. After a very entertaining flight over, Cassarah had finally entered the golden state, and basked in the warm, weather. Technically it was her second day here, having landed sometime in the evening, only to get some much needed rest once everything had been checked into that fancy hotel that Sen had booked for the two of them. Like Mr. Sakimodo, Cassarah spent most of that evening getting used to the new time zone, as well as sleeping off the hedonistic flight over. Ultimately, however, she had arose before her boss to discover that the day was free to spend her first full day here as she liked, the conference didn't start in earnest until the next day to accommodate for delays in flights. That happened to be the second thing she discovered, upon waking up.

The first...had been her chest. Already immense by default, she woke to find much of the milky mass that had been expended on the way over had been refilled, those clamps firm upon her nipples. It was about at this time Cassarah typically expressed her milk for the day, but she hadn't so quickly forgotten Sen's words. She was to keep them on for the duration of the conference. She had no idea as to how much they would swell, over just a handful of days.

What Cassarah did know, was that it would have been a terrible waste to stay inside the hotel all day, and thus, she ventured out to explore. Donning much 'lighter' clothing to take advantage of the heat and sunshine, Cassarah made for quite the sight, walking those city streets. Fashionably small denim shorts squeezed her wide, wide hips, and constricted her luscious rear as she walked, absolutely unable to be fastened or zipped up as they were intended. A sleeveless top, perhaps long enough to meet the waist on a normal woman absolutely fell short of that goal on Cassarah. It was little more than a second bra on the most buxom, pregnant blonde the west coast had ever seen, who donned her sunglasses and sauntered towards a new destination...which ended up being a pier-adjacent carnival, complete with rides and attractions, which had been visible from her room in the hotel.

"Oh?", Cassarah murmured, momentarily lifting her glasses off of her nose to peer towards the fairgrounds. She didn't need to be told that that a lot of rides would be denied to her by virtue of her size and condition, but it by far seemed like the most interesting thing to check out on such short notice.

The fairgrounds are a boisterous affair, the warmth of bodies pressing in on all sides is near-constant, and hawkers and the fairground workers call and cheer to the crowd to keep energy high, and cash flowing. It’s colorful, the tents and gazebos and stands, with carnival games aplenty and rides to enjoy. As Cassarah suspects, many rides she cannot take. Her expectant condition and regulations aside, all it takes is one look at her massive belly and the carts and cups and horses to know that fitting was an outright impossibility for most of the attractions. But the food is delightfully sinful, churros, donuts, heavy burgers and other delightful treats. The one ride that might be able to take Cassarah, is of course the tall Ferris wheel. Spinning ponderously around through the sky. But on the way, Cassarah spied something curious. A young boy, staring sadly up at the slowly turning Ferris wheel. He’s no older than twelve, dressed in a novelty top with some popular game on it, cute blonde hair in a messy pile atop his young head. With one more wistful look, he sighs and begins to let his eyes wander the crowd- before they alight on Cassarah, widening noticeably as the poor boy simply takes in the enormity of her. His momentary morose broken by sheer fertile bulk.

To say going to the fair was 'interesting' was something of an understatement. Just entering the place, or attempting to, proved far trickier than Cassarah had initially imagined. Narrow turnstiles gated the sole entrance for patrons, and Cassarah had to hoist her colossal, busty self over and through that gap, making for quite the show in the process. At no point was her gravid gut not rubbing up against something, be that a part of the turnstile, or the teenaged employee that had been gawking at her as he took her ticket. She was fairly certain, that, before all was said and done, the poor boy had gotten buffeted by a breast, nearly knocking him from his feet.

From there, it was crowds, crowds, and more crowds, with Cassarah doing a particularly good job of clearing them with her sheer enormity. She waddled along with the flow of foot traffic, feeling her short-shorts paradoxically riding up in the back, and dipping low in the front...not that anyone could see just how much they were unzipped past a belly large enough to dwarf a novelty beach ball in size. It was just as efficient at blocking Cassarah's own view of what was directly in front of her as she happily devoured an overly decadent donut, leading her to walk belly-first right into another young boy by himself. What started with surprise turned to a look of concern when even she could see that the boy wasn't having the best time...

"Oh!", Cassarah gasped, once again lifting her sunglasses off of her face. "I didn't see you there...is something the matter? You look awfully down for being at a fair...",

As the young man is bowled over by her massive frame, there are a few murmurs and glances- but with the presses of the crowds around the pair, the incident is hardly noticed. With some difficulty the young boy manages to climb to his feet, barely avoiding hitting his head on her swollen bulk as he gets his feet back under him. Cassarah can’t really see him, just hear the soft piping voice from below her stomach.

“.. Wow.. uh.. I’m sorry I was in your way, Miss.” His soft, gentle voice barely reaches over the din of the crowd. “I- I was just watching the Ferris wheel. I was going to ride it, but my dad doesn’t like heights and I can’t go alone, that’s all.” The cute younger boy talks very politely for his age, but the words don’t disguise the faintly sad, petulant tone he takes up. It’s also.. interesting to find the boy all on his own, without a father to be seen, after all that. And, rather than being worried- his young eyes are entrapped with Cassarah, drinking her in from all angles. She can’t really see it well, but his cheeks are warming up as he stares in awe at her middle. “I’m.. um.. sorry if this is a personal question, uh.. how-.. how many babies are you having?” The indulgent question rises from his lips quickly, quite unable to draw his gaze away. Youthful innocence and loose lips at work again, as the throng moves around them on all sides.

The boy, older than most of the younger 'friends' Cassarah had been running into lately, still had that feeling of precociousness that the blonde adored. He appeared to be just on the cusp of entering middle school, and knew as much as where babies came from. As fun as it was to play 'games' with those more naïve, Cassarah had no complaints spending time with her adorable, new acquaintance. Her tongue ever dragged across her full, kissable lips as she locked her blue-eyed gaze upon him, an act that could be played off as her savoring the big donut she had just devoured.

"Oh? Are you interested? About one or two...dozen...", Cassarah giggled, playfully giving her bare belly a delicate rub. Unwittingly off by a factor of ten, Cassarah nevertheless looked the part of someone that could drop dozens of children any day. When she pivoted her stance, and pointed that enormous belly towards the boy, that great, firm dome would even ripple with movement from one of the many lives that it contained.

"...I just can't wait for the day I can meet them. Oh, and my name is Cassarah, though you can just call me Cassie, if you like. What's your name? I'm all by myself too, and I can't go on most of these rides. The Ferris wheel, though...there's room for me, there..."

The young boy flushes despite himself as she postures herself, eyes following the fluttering movements of her taut skin. He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry- that was rude.. I'm Ben. Ah, it's nice to meet you Cassie." His eyes wandered up to meet hers briefly, before being drawn back down by the gravitational pull of the vast swell below. ".. Wow, though. I've never heard of any pregnancy with that many babies.." He speaks with that same soft, childish wonder. He doesn't really think to ask as Cassarah feels a tiny boys hand reach out and touch her swollen middle, right at the apex. His thin fingers trace the taut skin, feeling the weight of her pregnant middle. "It should fit though! If barely, haha.. the passenger cars are meant for four people. And you're not quite that big." He takes his hands off her belly, returning them to his side. "Oh! Um, actually.. could we ride together, if that's okay? I haven't got enough pocket money to go on my own.."

Cassarah promptly clasped her hands together, fingers interlaced, and she flashed a dazzling smile. "Why I would love to ride together. It's no fun to go by yourself, you know. Oh, and you're more than welcome to feel, if you like. I am getting so big, lately. People can't help but reach out and touch...", Cassarah hummed, openly inviting Ben to caress her belly as much as he liked, before timidness or the fear of offending her could take hold. From her popped-out navel, to where her belly blended into her wide, wide hips, her massive maternity was smooth as it was firm, and gleamed somewhat in the sun. Cassarah had spent a lot of time putting on ample amounts of sunscreen before she left her hotel room to wander about the city, and it had proven wise on this cloudless, sunny day. She could just feel the gazes that were directed towards her, and her body. Just about everyone that passed by, but particularly the men, they all were awestruck by just how voluptuous and gravid she was. That didn't change when she extended a hand out to Ben, and offered to walk alongside him, as if she were his mother. Many would undoubtedly assume as such, with their hair matching in hue, and the way she casually kept close to him. But as she waddled her way into the line with Ben in tow, Cassarah's mind was filled with distinctly not family-friendly ideas, once the two of them were in a Ferris wheel cabin together. Her free hand even snaked into one of her back pockets, tight as can be, wrapped around her oversized rear. She had plenty of money to spend, with more than enough to 'convince' the ride operator to give the two an extended stay towards the top, once it was their turn.

Cassarah noticed that Ben does grew slightly skittish, even with her invitation to touch and explore. The reason being of course, that all around them- eyes are drawn to the odd pair. All the permission and encouragement in the world will not overcome the worry of scrutiny. And for that reason, Ben's exploration of her vast pregnant swell is stunted in the narrow cramped quarters of the line up to the ferry. There is something of a snag. About two-thirds of the way to the ticketing booth, metal guard rails serve to filter and organize the queue. They're spaced well apart. For normal people. But without due warning- Cassarah's discovery of this curious blockage comes when her warm middle is suddenly squeezed on both sides by a cool, metallic bar.

"Oh-.. Oh no. Should we.. go around? What should we do?" Ben asks from ahead of Cassarah, a hand resting on her lightly toasted swell.

Cassarah suppressed another shudder, one that had been very closed to coercing a follow-up moan. The cold iron against her bare skin had been a shock, but it was the reminder, the demonstration of just how big she was, that had her desires flaring anew, in perhaps the oddest situation yet. Rails spaced enough for two people to pass without issue were slowing her down, rubbing against her belly and providing resistance. For a woman who once thought she'd never have children, only to end up so enormous, the sensation was novel as it was oddly pleasant.

"It's either go around...or giving me a bit of a push. Either one. Did you want to...help me, Ben? Or did you see another way further in the line? I'd hate to lose our spot...", Cassarah huffed, fighting the urge to start caressing her bloated womb, or gripping the wobbling, milk-laden udders above it. There was only so much she could get away in the public eye. Anything more...required them to be out of sight. With the very visible way her body sloshed and bounced when forced to halt, it's certain she can't get away with anything that obvious. But fortunately the naivety of a child comes to the rescue. She feels his slender body slide against her womb from below for a moment, as Ben slips under and behind Cassarah.

"I'll help! You try to lift your big belly up, and I'll push!"

In short order, Ben does just that- getting behind Cassarah and pushing her forward, into the long metal rails. They continue to chill the skin, a cold flash across toasty baby-filled womb. It pinches the belly softly, a warning more than anything that even conventionally wide spaces wont fit Cassarah soon. Ben has gotten a bit quiet. It's understandable, given that his head is just barely above the vast shelf of Cassarah's wobbling hips. And his hands cant reach the small of her back to push. Which means his slender, little fingers are forced to sink into her softened rump, using it to push the bloated woman forward, towards the first 180 bend in the rails.

Cassarah couldn't say that she wasn't enjoying this unexpected obstacle in her plans. Ride queues, perhaps the most boring part of an amusem*nt park experience, had surprisingly become a fun diversion. Even though she was hoisting her tremendous belly upward, relaxing even slightly would bring the cold sensation of iron right back against her bare skin. Moreover, it was impossible to ignore the feeling of Ben's hands, sinking into her plush, luscious rear as he helped push. She might have been wearing denim shorts, but not only could the softness be felt through the fabric, there wasn't that much fabric to begin with, either. Cassarah had chosen scandalously short shorts to wear today, allowing much of her cheeks to be seen, and in this case, felt. Likewise, were it not for the largest belly around blocking the view up front, everyone would be able to see that she couldn't fasten nor zip her shorts up front. They remained splayed open, tested by the breadth of her brood-bearing hips in the shadow of her enormous pregnancy.

Said pregnancy made making turns a very tricky endeavor, but by working with Ben, and perhaps leaning against his hands a bit more than necessary, Cassarah was advancing, pivoting herself like some oversized zeppelin. All this skinship only stoked the desires that had been lit the moment she had bumped into the little boy. They were going to have a lot of fun when they got to ride...

"Keep going, Ben, we're making good progress!"

Their progress is slow but steady forwards. Advancing as the queue is pushed into the turning wheels. All the while strangers eyes linger on the pregnant blonde, and Ben is.. perhaps a little less shy. Even when they've stopped moving, like right now, his hands are still on her rump. Not moving much, but just.. resting. Exploring her child-bearing rear end. But the cold sensation finally runs out as the pair reaches the front of the line. Waiting at the booth is a sixteen year old boy, Messy brown hair, wearing a fairground checkered shirt and denim shorts. A look of dry boredom rapidly morphs into shock, awe, leering then self-consciousness as his eyes barely escape from the depths of Cassarah's cleavage. An easy mark to bribe.

"Welcome to the fairground wheel.. are you riding alone, ma'am?", He asked.

"No, as a matter of fact, I am not. I'm here with my...son.", Cassarah corrected, waddling forward enough for Ben to come into view. Unsurprisingly, the teen barely gave the kid a second glance, far, far more interested at the view Cassarah was providing. His gaze was so intense, rather than try and fish out some money from a back pocket so tight she could barely get her fingers into, she instead plunged one had between that great expanse of cleavage cradled by her flirtatiously small top, and fished out a few bills. Just from the number, it was obvious it was above the normal fare for an adult and a child.

"And we would like to...enjoy the view from the top. For a while. You could do that for me, couldn't you?", Cassarah asked the teenaged ride operator, bending forward slightly as she passed him the money. Her outlandish breasts, so full and large, audibly clapped against the firm surface of her belly in the movement, and took an absurd amount of time to stop quaking again.

It was almost hypnosis. The back-and forward swaying that arrests his eyes into a steady, following motion. The poor young teen swallows hard, and quickly nods his head- taking the bills and stashing them.

"Of course of course, how- how long would you like? I'm sure I can be accommodating to a mother and her child.." Eager to please. Or maybe just eager to make the conversation last as long as possibly so he can keep ogling her chest. Ben tugs gently on the sleeve of Cassarah's top, to get her attention. He has a small, slightly confused look on his face. His hands are off her plush rump at last, instead now resting on her vast belly- stroking it in gentle, slow circles.

Cassarah thought about the question, weighing her options. As much as she liked the idea of staying up in a cozy ride cabin with Ben for hours, there were other people to think about. Too long, and it could attract undue attention. It was best to aim for a period of time that would allow her to 'savor' the moment, but not so long as to have people wondering if the fire department needs to be called.

"After a few times around and enough people get on or off, I'd say, oh...about thirty minutes should suffice. That's not going to be a problem, right?", Cassarah asked rhetorically, her voice low and sultry. She punctuated her reply with a casual hoist of her immense chest with her forearms, lifting them from below and making them appear that much larger within her tiny top. Not forgotten, however, was Ben, pawing her belly at her hip. She cast a smoldering gaze the young boy's way, and began to lead him towards the Ferris wheel cabin that had been lowered and opened for them to board.

Immediately, Cassarah was faced with the task of wriggling her outlandishly pregnant self through a space most people could fit without thinking twice. The door, swung all the way open, just barely allowed Cassarah to shift and shake her fantastically fecund self inside, with the help of Ben once again pushing her from behind. Once inside, the interior was mostly just two benches, facing one another, and a view that allowed riders to see in all directions. Cassarah, occupying a good majority of the cabin -and nearly all of a bench- all by herself, beckoned Ben closer once the door was closed, the two of them sealed inside until it was time to get off. Time, that would be extended, thanks to her efforts.

"Sorry about that, Ben. Hope you weren't too embarrassed by me playing mommy.", Cassarah giggled, giving her belly another stroke. "Now, you can feel alll you like. And even more than that..."

The door rattles shut with a final shudder and jangle. And below them, the great engines begin to whir and move, as the ground begins lurching out from under the pair. The Ferris wheel starts to move, and Ben only has eyes for Cassarah as they sink into opposite benches. It doesn't help much when her belly is just a few inches away. With permission given- there's a shock to Cassarah's womb as his hands knead into it a bit more forcefully now. Gripping her massive womb and letting his thumbs rub into her overly sensitive navel. Thumbs rooting around and exploring the sensitive skin. He doesn't rush it though. He's very tender with her belly.

".. I didn't mind. It makes sense, we have similar hair- and it means we get to ride!" He beams at Cassarah, ignorant to how his obscene groping of her massive belly makes her feel. "But, what do you mean by...' more?'..."

Cassarah's playful smiled widened. Ben knew some things, but that question made it clear he didn't know everything. Just the thought of playing around with a boy that had rained some innocence had Cassarah sinfully rubbing her thick thighs together beneath her swollen stomach.

"Oh? You're curious? Well, you know how I'm just so big with babies in here, right...?", Cassarah asked, pausing to give time for Ben to nod to the affirmative. "...Well, you can let Cassie here show you how those babies were made, if you like. How good it feels to make them. I made sure we have plenty of time for fun, here on the ride. So if you like, I can show you the best kind of fun. What do you say, Ben? Want to see how mommies make their babies...?"

Cassarah let the question hang, but didn't sit idle. Already, one hand was groping her own breast, squeezing the pillowy mound, even though the clamps wouldn't allow a drop of milk to escape. Down below, Cassarah's other hand was hooking into her shorts, steadily pushing them down her hips and butt. Ben nods along with her explanation, his hands never wavering from their steady exploration of sun-toasted belly, his awkward, slightly chubby hands running over her womb in steady circles. His head tilts slightly to one side, adorable green eyes widening as Cassarah begins to tempt him. His throat bulges faintly as he swallows.

".. Um." His cheeks are coloring, even if he doesn't quite understand why. His eyes began level with her gaze, but when her hands shift and start bouncing and squeezing one massive breast- his pale green peepers cant help but be drawn to the gravity of their motion. "How.. does it work?" Ben asks, at last, with another dry swallow. His hands are moving less assuredly on her womb now, distracted from their singular exploration of that vast bulk, returning to his lap- to hide the slow but inevitable results of temptation. The boyish outline of a slender, but swelling shape in his cute shorts. Hook, line, and sinker.

"I'm glad that you asked, Ben...though it looks like your body already knows where to start.", Cassarah seductively hummed, her blue-eyed gaze locking onto the growing tent the boy's manhood was pitching within his shorts. The blonde had to crane her neck to properly look down far enough, so grand was the heft of her bust, and the swell of her baby-stuffed middle. Where Cassarah had been sitting on the bench seating that was on both sides of their Ferris-wheel cabin, she hoisted herself up to a stand, and slowly pivoted her fabulously fertile body around, presenting what had to have been the widest hips, and the most luscious rear towards a completely bewildered little boy. Cassarah's own shorts, which had never really fit her figure in the first place, had already started to slide down, unveiling the string-thin underwear that Cassarah had donned, a garment that was easily brushed aside to brandish her heat-radiating womanhood.

"Your thing, Ben. You have to put it in here. That's how babies are made..."

With the very limiting space within the cabin, Ben and perhaps Cassarah are both taken a bit off-guard, when the shift of her weight causes the carriage to rock slightly. And as she bends back to show off her bared hips, bending down to expose her womanhood- she was already only a few inches away from the seated boy, and with the cabin shifting- Cassarah is greeted by the most pleasant sensation of a young boys face tumbling forward, right into the soft curves of her rear, into her womanhood. There's a moment of stunned quiet before Ben pulls back with a flustered yelp, cheeks hot. Any doubts as to his own mounting arousal are washed away, as the boys breaths come fast and unstable.

"My-.. gah.. isn't that where.." He gulps, his eyes unable to escape the allure of Cassarah's hips, the boy awkwardly gripping the bulge of his own tender manhood in his trousers, with his cute fingers. A futile effort as his hesitation and embarrassment are eroded in real time by Cassarah's advances. "Isn't that... dirty? Why would I put.." More of that childish, innocent confusion. Those sentiments of youth, of cleanliness and playground bullying that persist, even on the eve of his cherry being plucked.

Cassarah was massive to the point where even subtle shifts in her stance could prompt a swaying of the suspended, Ferris-wheel cabin. Already, the pair where up in the air, away from prying eyes, and thanks to the bribe Cassarah had passed earlier, they would get the window they needed for a bit of fun. To that end, Cassarah kept on the offensive, far less troubled by the thought of seducing a pre-teen than she once was, the thought of taking a boy's virginity one now one that produced excitement, rather than shame. Hearing Ben's hesitance, she reached back as far as her arms would allow, and kneaded her rear, while also taking the time to give it a flirtatious smack. Those heavy cheeks, a distant second to the breadth of her bountiful bust, was the nevertheless enormous in its own right, just the sort of thing to corrupt some impressionable youth.

"That's used for more than just reliving yourself, Ben. Can't you feel how your thing is twitching, seeing me like this? It wants to play, and it should, because it feels better than anything. Don't you want to practice making babies with me?"

Ben looks down, at himself now. The preteen boy is clutching his crotch to hide the embarrassing bulging shape within now, but slowly his hands loosen and relax. Tented in the cute shorts he's wearing, the shape is unmistakable.

"Okay.. I'll p-play then.." Ben finally acquiesces, and his fingers turn to the task of slowly removing his shorts. Beneath is a cute pair of boxers, colorful and boyish- which his fingers steadily strip and pull away too. Until the boy is left in his cute patterned shirt, and some yellow socks. And nothing left to hide his cute, throbbing, skin-clad boyco*ck. It's a hint wet with anticipation, the throbbing tip glistening with hints of his pre. Ben shivers, and his hands extend out- grabbing onto Cassarah's vast rump. But a problem is pretty readily apparent. Even with Cassarah bent at the waist, there's no way for the short, cute boy to line up with her womanhood in their current position. Worse, with them both standing, any moves they make send the small carriage rocking, filling the enclosed space with sloshing sounds, and with gurgles and ripples from the young in Cassarah's already packed womb. Ben ends up smooshed into her rump again, face in her soft flesh, arms wrapped around her waist. And Cassarah can feel his cute, swollen member throbbing faintly against her thigh- firm and ready already for the task of breeding. Even if Ben's not quite there, his young body already knows what's next.

"S-.. sorry again.. how do I line it up? You're so, big.."

Cassarah shuddered from the feeling of the boy embracing her, even if it had been an accident. His face into her rear, his hands upon her luscious, sensual body, it was a start that promised so much more. But Cassarah could see that Ben was having trouble, he wasn't exactly the tallest boy, and she was a good deal taller than most women, her age. The difference was stark, but not one that could not be surmounted. Looking around the cabin interior, Cassarah's eyes fell back on the bench seating that flanked their bodies, and promptly gestured to Ben.

"Yes, I am, Ben. But there, the bench seat. Stand on that, and we'll work together to line up. Or...or I could sit on your lap. That is, if you don't mind having all of this on top of you..."

Ben tries his best to think rationally about the two options. But he was just pressed face-first into 'all of this', so in some measures it was a foregone conclusion. Ben sits his cute butt back down on the bench, and leaves his legs slightly spread- a soft flush on his cheeks and nose. Clearly he's embarrassed, but his brain isn't doing the thinking right now. No indeed, the proud, slender shaft of his boyish co*ck is doing that for him. It rises from his slender thighs in a small spire, wet and pink and eager. Fidgeting nervously, uncertain what to do with his hands, Ben looks up at Cassarah.

"I-.. I think this would be better.. maybe we can try both ways later?" He asks, curious, innocent. Thinking this is the sort of game you play many times. A nervous smile lingers on his lips as his co*ck throbs with anticipation, laden with cute, needy swimmers ready to do their utmost in breeding.

Cassarah only hesitates long enough to draw her tongue across her lips in a downright predatory gaze, before backing up to make her move. So much larger then Ben, he was enveloped in her shadow well before he was enveloped by the soft, weighty flesh that bore down on him, once Cassarah began to lower herself upon his lap. He was downright obscured, from behind her outlandishly fertile, baby-laden body, but that didn't stop Cassarah from feeling the boy's presence, and his manhood, pointed upward and erect, ready to be used as nature intended.

"Hope this isn't too heavy, Ben. I'll be just a second...", Cassarah huffed, her excitement getting the better of her, as she wriggled her wide hips to see the two of them align. Just from her sense of touch alone, Cassarah guided that preteen co*ck between her legs, and right into her damp sex, so very ready to receive it. She nestled it in as deep as it could go, and once she had, began to clamp down on Ben's manhood, simultaneously claiming it for her personal use, and doing all that she could to give her adorable partner that much more pleasure. She had, after all, promised that this would feel really good. And as things stood, that was how it was shaping up. At least for Cassarah, and her many children, which began to kick about in that tremendous womb of hers.

"...there! Now, we really make each other feel good...!"

The carriage groans as all the weight of both passengers settles on one side. In a way, it helps Cassarah hilt herself snugly on Ben's cute, prepubescent co*ck. It throbs with sudden urgency inside her clamping folds, warmth flooding her insides. She can already tell from many experiences, that this poor virgin isn't far from release. Whether she stokes the coming eruption or delays it is her choice- as with the blissed out, dazed look on the smothered boy's face- he's not in control anymore. His hips try to buck or shift, spasms jolting his thighs, toes, fingers and shoulders. Lightning running up and down his entire body, Ben can't do anything but inhale. And when his lungs are finally full- the complete weight of Cassarah leans back into him- and in an explosive, moaning gasp- all that air is sucked from Ben's lungs. His hands grasp desperately for purchase, for cloth or fabric- but so little grips Cassarah that all he can grab onto for dear life is her squirming belly. His pudgy fingers try to get a grip as his senses are overloaded, and with the carriage rocking the way it is- their lovemaking is punctuated by the low, soft groans of machinery and metal grinding and shifting.

Cassarah didn't need Ben's word to know he couldn't see much past her own back, pressed against him as she sat in his lap. He had to rely entirely on what he could feel to respond, and there was a lot of Cassarah to feel for. So the blonde businesswoman elected to help out, reaching back, and guiding Ben's hands to those wide hips to grip, all while she continued her sensual onslaught atop him. Cassarah only held back in the ways of how fiercely she bucked against him, knowing the weight disparity could lead to some unfortunate injury. But in terms of stimulation, she brought her best, practically milking that poor co*ck as she did all she could to extract every drop of seed that it could give. The throbbing Cassarah felt deep within, told her all that she needed to know about how Ben was reacting. He'd do his part, soon. Outside, the cabin was rocking, but not so much as to call undue attention. The two of them had stopped near the top of the wheel, offering a splendid view of the city where Cassarah was residing for her business trip week. Just by leaning against the windows for a better look, she pressed her tremendous breasts -large as they have ever been with her not milking them- against the glass. There was no telling just how much larger they would get over the next several days! But Cassarah's attention was swiftly drawn right back towards Ben, for an ominous rumble was felt beneath her...

A rumble not of machinery, nor of motion in the old, sturdy mechanics of this Ferris wheel. A rumble much more intimate, more personal, with much more anticipation tied to it.

“It’s.. c.. something I-is.. coming..” The breathless, lost young boy warns. Afraid of the alien sensation welling up inside him. But Cassarah has no concern for that fear. That confusion. All that is sought is satisfaction. And with the flurry of their motion, the loud, messy slaps of bodies joining in such tight confines, it’s no wonder that she receives it in short order. His thighs shudder, sending a twitch down his legs to his toes, clean flinging one of the shoes off his foot. His back arches, as the racing electricity renders the young boy in spasmic stiffness- his head lolling as sparks dance in his eyes. And as his body is overloaded, biology does what it must. Its cute. The steady stream of cum that Cassarah milks from the young boy. His cute co*ck can’t pump vast quantities, it can’t make her feel the steady pulses of virile seed that are sent pulsing into her womb. She only feels the shuddering throbs of a co*ck being wrung dry, trembling and pulsing with each load of seed pulled from his loins. But a few moments later, the familiar satisfaction burns in her womb. As a child’s seed finds eager root in her gurgling womb, sparks of heat rise with each successive egg found by Ben’s eager swimmers. Lances of warmth billow in her writhing womb, as Cassarah is heartily, thoroughly, properly bred.

Thanks to the seals applied to her chest, Cassarah had not, like with so many of her partners, shared her milk. That fertility-and-virility-boosting cream was especially potent, her body chemistry what it was, it had only gotten stronger over the number of months that she had been pregnant...not that Cassarah had any idea. Likewise, she was just as ignorant to the fact that there could be anything special with the food that her boss kept treating to her, be it on the plane, or sent to her room at the hotel. Knowledge or not, the results were effective all the same. Cassarah's breeding capabilities continued to grow, her prolific womb getting that much better at bearing brood upon brood. The unmodified Ben's swimmers couldn't have asked for more fertile ground. When Cassarah milked the poor boy of every rope of hot spunk he had to give, they surged towards a ravenous womb that practically guided them to egg after egg, many of which split into twins or more on the spot. Over two-dozen children at once might have been a staggering number for a human woman before, but for Cassarah's hyper-breeding body, it was but a drop in the bucket in terms of what she had accomplished...or what she could end up capable of doing with time. In the meanwhile, Cassarah looked back at her young lover with a warm smile, congratulating him on a job well done.

"That's it, Ben. That's how you make babies. That's how I got so big. Feels good, right?"

The relief washes over Ben in waves. As cold iron and glass mixes with the warmth of sweat and skin, the windows beaded with condensation and steam, Ben gasps in breath to restore his fleeting lungs. The young boy slumps back with a panting sigh, staring up at Cassarah with a gaze partway between listless and warm. He smiles- a small, exhausted smile.

"I.. I think I get it, yes." He mumbles softly, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow and nose. His body slackens, the stiffness that lingered in his manhood finally softening away as the Ferris wheel slowly begins to grind, and turn a little bit further. ".. It felt.. really good. Like you promised. Thank you."

"And thank you. Feels really good for me, too, Ben.", Cassarah breathed with an elated smile, her fair hands sweeping across a belly she could no longer reach around. Once again, she got that wondrous tingling sensation in her womb she so adored, if at a much more subtle level than she had been getting used to. For reasons she didn't feel the need to consider, a lot of Cassarah's partners seemed to be unusually virile, even when they were as young, or younger, then Ben. Ben seemed more like the norm, but that was by no means a problem. Cassarah had gotten what she wanted, and once Ben's manhood deflected, she moved off of his lap so the two could regain some semblance of modesty, once more. Cassarah had to work fairly quickly, tugging those undersized and downright tiny shorts back up her thick thighs. The Ferris-wheel had once again begun to rotate, their sky-high cabin steadily descending back towards the ground. As soon as Cassarah had gotten herself to a state that wouldn't lead to an arrest, she spent the rest of that ride at Ben's side, enjoying the view. The sight outside the window was marvelous, but Ben could be forgiven for preferring the sight inside, that of the sun-kissed, broodmother jiggling right next to him with every sway of the cabin.

It was mostly quiet for the rest of the ride, however, just as the two were getting ready to disembark, Cassarah's stomach let out an audible growl. The stalls she had stopped by for snacks on the way hadn't been nearly enough.

"Oh...oh my. Seems the little ones are hungry, again. Ben, you seem pretty familiar with the fair, know where there's a lot of food we could get...?"

Ben has been less than subtly staring at the sun kissed brood mother throughout the rest of the ride, and hasn’t much stopped since departing it. He tilts his head at the query, thinking it over.

“Hmm! Well, if the stalls aren’t enough, I don’t.. oh!” He perks up, his whole face brightening up. “I know one! There’s a pie-eating competition! You can sign up any time during the day, and eat as many pies as you can. And, at the end of the day, whoever ate the most pies is the winner- and gets a special prize!” Ben takes Cassarah’s hand, and starts tugging her forward- back towards the heart of the fair.

“It’s this way, this way!” Its an almost cartoonish sight. The broad blonde being pulled by the hand, by a boy less than a quarter of her weight. The staring is back- eyes helplessly drawn to the blonde as her and Ben push back into the crowds, glances and ogles spent on Cassarah wherever she goes. She even feels that attendant watching her sway away from the Ferris wheel, young teenage gaze impossibly drawn in.

The pair cross the fairgrounds and reach the eastern side. The smell of pretzels, donuts, hotdogs and more all linger in the air. Rich, fatty, heavy foods fry, cook, and everything else in nearby stands. But mercilessly Ben tugs Cassarah through- and towards a tall, open pavilion with several large tables and a partitioned kitchen. There’s a heavy-set, dark-skinned man at the front of the stall- already checking Cassarah out as she approaches. He smiles, an easy look- the older man looking between the pair.

“Afternoon, afternoon. How can I help the two of you? Is the young’un here for the eating contest?” He jokes lightly, while Ben pouts.

Even with a young boy that could have been her own son tugging her along, there was no shortage of smoldering gazes sent Cassarah's way as she maneuvered through the crowd. The two still looked like mother-and-son, if not brother-and-older-sister, and yet, Ben's presence did little to diminish the way men got utterly lost staring at the tremendous, shirt-stuffing breasts that bounced against the blonde's belly with every step she took. Her enormous figure had a way of party crowds, getting others to step aside well in advance, so the two made good time through the sea of people towards the eastern side of the fairgrounds where a great number of delectable treats awaited a hungry customer. Cassarah hadn't lied, she was very hungry, the appetite needed to fuel far more children than she knew she carried was not to be underestimated. Even with everything that she had eaten today already, she was more than ready to sign up for an all-you-can-eat affair.

"Oh, no. That'd be me, Cass. Got lots of kids to feed, as you can see...", Cassarah giggled, giving the side of that immense, bared belly a playful pat. In response, her womb rippled, one of her the more developed of her brood rolling over, or expressing their agreement. "...where do I sign? I'd love to do my best in the contest!"

The man chuckles. “You’re at the right place. I hope the little ones are hungry!” He produces a paper for Cass to sign. A waiver, and registration papers.

“There is a thirty dollar registration fee- we contribute any earnings we make to a local soup kitchen. So, you can eat to your hearts content!” The man smiles, then leans back and heads to the kitchen- calling to others inside. “Let’s get some more pies moving! We’ve got a hungry contender!” There’s a series of laughs from behind the partition, and during the brief window that it’s opened- the rich scent of fresh dough, pies, savoury and sweet- hits both Ben and Cass’s noses. It’s a rich, heavy scent.

Ben hops eagerly to watch Cassarah sign up, and given how naturally Cassarah already draws the eye- there’s a slowly garnering crowd staring from outside the pavilion, anticipating the show to come.

Thirty dollars is nothing to the blonde, especially when she knows full well how much it'd likely cost to sate her hunger in a conventional restaurant. Cassarah signed the documents, paid the fee, and went on her way, waddling into the venue to take her place. The contest area had a number of wooden benches and tables -like those often seen in public parks- arranged with tablecloths and utensils for contestants to use. Cassarah looked for a suitably empty one to claim, but was ultimately forced to straddle that bench at a sidelong angle, her belly far too tremendous to sit at a table like most people did. With one leg under the table, and one leg outside of it, her huge belly rested on the bench, proving to be surprisingly comfortable for the blonde who was so used to things not working out. Ben, who had been at her side all the while, had ample room on the other side of the table they had claimed. He wasn't a contestant like she was, but he could still be an active participant, someone that could help her out...

"Mhm...yes, this will do nicely. Say, Ben, want to help Cassie with the contest?", Cassarah asked, while cheerfully running her fingers across her own body, "It's hard to reach the pies, and it's easier to eat them by the slice. Could you cut them, and pass them to me, when we start...?"

The pavilion buzzes with competitors finding their seats, the smell of fresh pastry filling the air as the supplies for the competition are prepared and brought into the back. But even amongst all the buzz and hubbub, Cassarah can't help but draw the eye. Most people don't look like they've already eaten the contents of a dozen competitions like this one after all. She's not immune to stares, furtive pointing fingers- especially as she straddles the bench to make room for herself, the wood groaning in protest underneath her. Ben flushes and beams at Cassarah.

"Yeah! I can do that.. it's only fair! It's pretty unfair for you that you've already got such a full belly." He palms Cassarah's belly lightly. The innocent boy likes having his fingers on it, it would seem.

"Mhm, good boy. You're such a help.", Cassarah hummed, delighting in the adorable preteen's embrace. Upon sitting down, she had noted the way the wooden bench, more than sturdy enough for most, had bent somewhat beneath the weight of her enormous, baby-stuffed middle. It brought some odd, twisted sense of delight in Cassarah, even if she couldn't quite understand why. The bench, however, would only be forced to bear more and more weight, once the eating competition had truly begun. With her entry, pies were starting to be set out onto tables by fair employees, in preparation of the starting signal. They were all large, decadently sweetened with glaze, and fresh from the oven. Cassarah, who had already remarked how hungry she felt after the fun in the Ferris Wheel, began to lick her lips in anticipation for what was to come.

No one was allowed to start ahead of the signal, but Cassarah could still pass some of the utensils, and spare plates, to Ben, so he could get right to cutting slices to serve to her. Having the pies nearby only reaffirmed what she had assumed going in. Trying to reach everything from her sidelong seated position was tricky. She was so fortunate to have a cute boy to push slice after slice over her chest and towards her lips!Ben settles by Cassarah's front, and takes the solemn duty of providing her sustenance. A proud duty, and one that draws much envy from the other tables. No other competitors cause any trouble for the blonde with her aid, as the pavilion is filled with chatter, cheers, and talk from an announcer. The same man that was running the front has a microphone and is talking through the event to the gathering crowd.

"Not two plates in and we already have our first contestant out! A bit of a weak stomach for sugar, perhaps! Or- perhaps our pies are just worth thirty big ones on their own!" There's a mix of laughter and grins from the crowd as a man climbs out of a booth with a pained look, stepping away from the finished plates. Ben watches, distracted for a moment- before he gasps, looking back to Cassarah.

"Sorry Cassie! Here's the next one.. I think it's blueberry!" He climbs up against her belly, resting his young, warm frame against her swollen womb. And he uses his pudgy, young hands to hand up slice after slice after delectable slice to the waiting pregnant woman. "There.. I think the next one is sweet too... it smells nice!" He slices up the next pie, a happy smile on his lips. "Oh, apple! A classic!"

There were eating contests that were decided by speed, but this was not one of them. Cassarah had signed up for a test of endurance, a trial of how much she could eat, instead of how quickly. That did not, however, stop the tremendous blonde from utterly devouring slices as they were pushed towards her mouth by an oh-so helpful Ben. What took most at least a minutes to chew and swallow, Cassarah's ravenous hunger dispatched in a handful of seconds.

"Mhm, glad they sprung for so many flavors. Keep them coming, Ben. Don't -mhm- stop!", Cassarah uttered, speaking in between slices of pie. At her size, getting stuffed with sweets even on this level, wasn't quick to make a difference, but entirely incorrect to say there wasn't one at all. Steadily, that already gigantic belly pushed out a little bit more and more, as all that food stuffed a stomach that had been growling to nourish a staggeringly large brood of babies. Which, at roughly a few minutes into the contest, began to kick up a storm, as if to say thanks for the sweet and calorie-rich meal. Ben, so close to Cassarah, would get to feel all the ripples and kicks, and get to witness that immense stomach push out little by little, on that bench. Wider, rounder, firmer. Where her shorts began to sink into her plush rear, Cassarah's tiny top threatened to ride up her massive breasts. With Cassarah eschewing any clothes around her abdomen, nothing about her growth was left to the imagination. Everyone could see how she was ballooning, all while she left empty pie-tins in her wake.

"Another one down, and another- and, wow! The lady down south is absolutely piling them away! Either she's hit every buffet in town, or she needs all those calories to handle all the little ones in her!" The announcer roars. Cheers go up as the crowds direction is pushed towards Cassarah- even more than is normal. The tingle of dozens, dozens of eyes wandering her increasingly exposed belly streak across her skin. That only joins the constant sensation of Ben being all over her. The young boy is especially handy, nestling into her growing belly with each slice fed to the vast woman. Apple, rhubarb, raspberry, the constant barrage of pastry, glaze, and sweet filling are fed to Cassarah like a conveyor belt. Ben grins and lifts another tray and stacks it up- marking the sixth finished pie.

"You're doing so good!" He cheers, licking his fingers to remove some of the leftover pastry. "So yummy.." He shakes his head, and takes up another apple pie. He's getting better, quicker, slicing up the pies and handing them off faster. Beneath her, Cassarah hears another low, ominous groan. Soft at first, as the weight pressing down into the wooden bench causes more and more strain. The wood begins to bow, distending, paint flaking as Cassarah stuffs herself fuller and fuller.

Ben takes the time between pies, as attendants deliver new trays with steaming hot pies, to rub Cassarah's belly- to help mitigate any indigestion. He giggles as the kicking moves under his hands, beaming at Cassarah. "No indigestion yet, Cassie?"

"Nope, not yet, Ben! Seems the little ones were making mama really hungry!", Cassarah giggled, getting caught up in all the excitement. Her former self, that ever-serious businesswoman from the big city, might have been astonished to see her as she now was, colossal, gorging on sweets, all in the public eye. But Cassarah paid little thought to what others thought, beyond that they had eyes upon her, and focused the bulk of her attention on eating. Pie after pie slice, sweet to the point where it'd be sickening to some, all disappearing past her lips, and filling her roaring stomach. All those calories were bound to have some consequences on her figure in the future, but in the moment, it all went to her stomach, expanding, large and proud. She had swelled so much in the short term, she even found herself spreading her long, luscious legs that much further out, just to better accommodate the maternal mountain that extended so far in front of her. The hand that wasn't being used to guide the passed pie-slices towards her mouth was dedicated to rubbing her stomach with great affection, for the sensations that shot up Cassarah's spine were truly a delight. But all that feasting had a more immediate consequence, one that had been hinted at from the moment Cassarah had first sat down. It happened as Cassarah was working on what appeared to be her eighth full pie. The bending, groaning wood of the bench, taxed under so much weight that continued to mount, snapped. With an audible crack, what had been an otherwise level plank broke into two, with the ends hoisted upward as the middle dug into the soil beneath Cassarah's feet. Ben and Cassarah were lifted slightly, but for the boy, that just allowed him to be higher up on that colossal belly he loved so much. Cassarah, surprised, only hesitated for a moment before getting right back to eating.

"Mhm, how many contestants are left, Ben...? I feel like I could do this all day...!"

"Hear that folks? All day she says!" The announcer cheers, laughter rising from the crowd. Ben smiles up at Cassarah, nodding eagerly. "This is fun- let's do it!" He cheers happily, and stuffs another slice of pie to Cassarah's lips. The competition is dwindling. Similarly bloated men and women are retiring due to both exhaustion, fullness, and dismay at the sight of the stack Cassarah has built up. With the bench no longer relied on to hold her, Cassarah is free to expand as she pleases.

Time passes. Cheers turn to confusion, then awe. All the other contestants fall like flies, leaving just Cassarah at her bench. And the crowd continues to stare, shock, horror, awe, lust. As Ben dutifully attends to Cassarah at her side. He works tirelessly. Men and women bring pies from the back kitchen to the table, and Ben works like a machine. With growing practice, his hands draw the blade through the pies, slicing them into wedges. A steady, rote motion that then brings the trays and their slices up to Cassarah's waiting lips. Time after time the young boy is forced to climb her belly, though there isn't much need to coerce him. Willingly the young man clambers the growing mountain of Cassarah's middle, bringing slice after slice to the waiting behemoth. His eager face is flushed with heat, his eyes keen and hungry. Almost as hungry as her.

"It.. it is safe to say we are.. well beyond the record.. haha." The announcer says somewhat lamely, surveying the damages. The crowd is quiet, as Ben beams at Cassarah.

"I think they're starting to run out of pies!" Ben calls, giggling up at Cassarah. "Want to stop? How are you doing..?" His fingers return to her belly, rubbing and settling kicking feet and bubbles of indigestion.

"If they're...urp...running out, I guess we should let them throw in the towel, don't you think? I think I'm just started to feel full...", Cassarah huffed, suppressing a burp mid-sentence. She had devoured over two dozen piles in a truly awe-inspiring display of gluttony, leaving only a couple to polish off, on the table beside her. It was safe to say that there were nobody left that could match her, all other contenders had tapped out, unable to eat even half as much as Cassarah had. In that sense, the contest was technically over, and she had won, but as Cassarah had continued to show she could keep going, the pies had kept coming, and she had just kept getting bigger. The mountain of maternity that Ben had to climb was larger than ever, but the payoff of seeing that great, gurgling gut grow had been more than worth it. Cassarah, so hooked on the attention, sweets, and adorable Ben's affection, had kept putting off stopping early, just to keep the fun going that much longer. It was for that very same reason she considered putting an end to her outlandish feast, but when she thought about how few pies were left, she changed her mind at the very last moment.

"...then again...if there's only a few left...let's finish them off! Give these guys a story for the ages. And I've never been one to leave a job unfinished. But I'll be counting on you, Ben. Especially since my stomach is starting to feel tight...", Cassarah replied, deciding right then and there she'd devour the last few pies, leaving naught but the smallest crumbs.

Ben beams up at Cassarah like she's his hero, grinning happily. "Let's do it!"

It is perhaps the most efficient meal ever conceived. The sheer amount of carbs, of calories for a mere 30 bucks is staggering. The pile of tins rises higher, higher, ever higher under the watchful gaze of the expanding crowd. The sun sinks lower in the sky, tinging the whole scene orange as Ben facilitates, aids, and encourages the herculean effort put forward by his charge. The pavilion is cleared save for Cassarah and her mammoth girth, the hums and whispers of the crowd the only accompaniment to the bassy rumbles and roars emerging from her flurrying, kick-laden belly. Ben does all he can to help. He doesn't overload Cassarah with food any longer, the pace slows down- and to make up for it, Ben lavishes her belly with attention. Careful rubs into tender spots. Cuddling and kissing the sun-warmed surface where ripples and bulges form. All in all, Ben is the very picture of doting. Fitting, given that now his own children are benefiting from the vast meal stuffed into the blonde.

But all things must come to an end. Ben goes to reach for another pie, but the bench is empty. He flinches, rising from his daze and looking about. The attendant gives him a helpless look, then waves to the announcer- who speaks in a low, stunned voice.

"I don't.. quite believe my eyes. But.. ladies and gentlemen.. if I am not mistaken, our champion has just devoured more than forty pies. Forty-three. I can scarce believe what I am seeing."

The crowd gasps, murmuring and chattering. Ben leans on Cassarah's belly, climbing it and mounting it, to reach her face. He grins, tired, happy.

"You did it... you're amazing, Cassie..!"

Towards the end, Cassarah had started to wonder if the venue had exaggerated their shortage of pies, for despite their claim, more had kept coming, and even she had a limit. Her eating had undeniably slowed, no longer the efficient, machine-like ravenousness that had defined the start of the contest. All the same, Cassarah ate and ate, her belly bulging and swelling, stuffed more and more. The buxom blonde had been so immense to begin with, but the difference from when she had first wandered into the contest, and when she leaned back with stacks of empty pie tins all around her, was notable. It was as if that great, brood-bearing belly had expanded outward a whole foot in every direction. Cassarah had to oriented herself further and further away at the half-broken bench-table she had seated herself in, simply due to how much her growing gut had rubbed up against it.

And yet, for how much it had ballooned, there still was not a single stretch mark, or blemish otherwise, marring it's great, taut surface. It merely rippled -and now gurgled- the countless babies within delighting in the calorie-thick feast of the ages. Cassarah navel, long since popped out, was as blatant as ever, and had become a toy for Ben to tease, whenever he wasn't scaling Mt. Wilhelm. As for the blonde herself, she was right and truly stuffed, thinking about swearing off pies for a good, long while as she leaned back, basked in the glory of her victory, and rubbed what she could reach of what the largest pregnancy anyone here had ever seen.

"Oof...t-told you, I would. Urgh...gonna need a minute, before I think about getting up. So full..", Cassarah grunted, finally feeling the discomfort of out-eating everyone else in the contest, combined. What would Sen think, seeing her like this?

The crowd, seeing their show is finished, slowly begins to dissipate. The afternoon turning toward evening, bodies part and head away. But two remain. Far, the announcer, the organizer of this whole affair can’t help but gawk at what he has facilitated. Staring in stunned silence at Cassarah, his gaze intent, stunned. His cheeks are flushed, but that’s hardly surprising. Her wardrobe struggles at the best of times. Much nearer, much more intimate, Ben can hardly be apart from Cassarah. His arms are on her belly at all times. Rubbing, kneading, hugging. His little hands stretch to try and service the mammoth bulk however they can, failing utterly and yet bringing bliss in the attempt. Her sensitive skin can feel his slender, light body against her- and the faint, bulging outline that betrays just how much Ben enjoyed the show she put on. Currently he lies on her belly, astride it like a vast boulder, staring down at Cassarah with a grin.

“Take all the time! You earned it!” Ben giggles, hands kneading away at her gut to settle the burbles and groans within.

“I can hardly believe my eyes..” The announcer murmurs. He approaches. “.. Are you.. sure you don’t need help? I could fetch a few members of the security team, they could help carry you if you can’t move..” Worry creases his face. Why wouldn’t it, knowing just how large she’s become.

Cassarah had become utterly defined by the trio of spheres that were, astonishingly, very much a part of her. A monumental maternity, supporting great, milk-laden breasts perched atop. Ben had to scale all three to look at Cassarah from the front, but whenever he saw fit to surmount her gigantic gut, Cassarah was certain to brandish a wide smile for the adorable boy. As for the others, she waved a dismissive hand over her head, having no interest of making that sort of spectacle by needing to be carried out. Once the peak of her discomfort had passed, Cassarah began the herculean task of trying to hoist her own, tremendous self off of the broken bench. The weight had been significant, before, but she could say she definitely felt the difference with the amount of strength she had to muster in her legs.

"I'm fine, I'm fine...nngh...", Cassarah grunted, slowly rising up off the ground. Looking every bit the blonde blimp, her takeoff was no less inspiring, and she bid that great baby-dome off of the ground. Beneath it, her denim short-shorts were as splayed and taxed as they ever were. Zipping them up had already been impossible, now it was questionable if they could even be removed without cutting them open. Nevertheless, Cassarah basked in her victory, patted her firm tummy with an audible clapping noise, and extended a hand to her 'son', so that they could leave together. Her entry had been the best thirty dollars she had ever spent.

"Come on, Ben. Let's get going. Mommy needs to get a little more exercise in..."

Ben giggles happily, and takes her hand in his- walking with Cassarah from the pavilion, and out back into the fair. The crowds part in vast waves, opening to allow passage for the odd pair, to resume their exercises.

---

Night consumes the fading sun. The beautiful city is taken in the gloom, then lit by a hundred hundred little lights, glowing merrily against the pitch from the many tall towers of concrete and steel. Inside one such merry tower, high up, enjoying the penthouse suite accommodating his status- Sen paces tersely in his living room. No word for hours from his elusive, stubborn, chafing, aggressive, irresistible subordinate. The day of rest was allotted, but to spend it entirely away from company affairs and even his own sight.. it was strangely taxing on the man. Sen sighs, and stops before the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of rich dark brandy. There’s no helping it. She was wilful, uncontrollable. She’d be back by tomorrow, no matter the trouble she’d found herself in. Unless that trouble was a particularly narrow alley, perhaps. Sen snickers to himself, then takes a long drink. His gaze drifting the beautiful carpet of city and starlight, his suited body cutting an almost beautiful silhouette against the gloom, dressed in a dark navy suit and black tie. He finishes his drink. Far too quickly for his liking.. and so, Sen paces back to the cabinet to pour another.

Cassarah, meanwhile, was nearing the hotel. It had been sad to part from Ben. Cassarah had only known him for the greater part of an afternoon, and yet, the boy had been so precious, so adorable, so fantastically fond of her figure. And yet, the two had to go their own ways, Cassarah back to her hotel room to check in with her boss, Ben, back to his father, who was undoubtedly looking for him. But Cassarah didn't leave without gifting Ben one last souvenir. That being a photo taken together, in the wake of the pie-eating contest, her so large, him embracing a belly he couldn't hope to wrap his arms around. It had lead to some more babymaking practice, in some dark corner of the fairgrounds, which in turn ended up being Cassarah's surprise souvenir. About twenty of them, give or take.

But Cassarah was, rightfully, tired after a long day. And so, she waddled her enormous self back to the hotel, and thought of immediately flopping onto one of those luxury beds. The only thing stopping her, was recalling that she hadn't talked to Sen in some time, and so, she made a detour that evening. Still dressed in her oh-so-small top that covered little more than her enormous breasts, and the tiny, tiny shorts that couldn't even be seen past her belly from most angles, she knocked on Sen's door...and showed she'd definitely have some trouble actually getting through it. Nevertheless, Cassarah greeted her boss as she would normally, speaking from the other end of a titanic pregnancy.

"H-hey, Sen. Back from the, uh, free day. You have fun, too, today...?", Cassarah stammered, one hand stroking what she could reach on but one side of her stomach.

Gawking is the only real response. Sen opened the door expecting the room service he'd ordered a few minutes ago. Not.. this. Sen does not often look stunned, but her state manages to silence the wit-filled older man for a solid three seconds.

He swallows twice. "Ah- hah, yes. A fun day of organizing and preparing for the conference we've got coming. You do understand the day was for speech-writing and preparing our presentations, no?" By the end of the statement his sharp tongue has returned, a hint of a smile on his lips. "And you certainly look like you've been.. productive." Sen murmurs. His gaze shifts from stunned or awed, to narrowed, hot, sultry. He stares down at her vast blimp of bare skin, his fingers flexing to resist the urge to just.. reach out and maul her.

"Well?" He asks. Bemused now. And hungry in a whole different way.

Cassarah was, in fact, able to enter Sen's room, with a bit of effort. Her belly, so outlandishly vast, dragged against the doorframe when she pushed through, forcing her to twist and wriggle her way through that 'narrow' gap. Once she had managed to enter, however, Sen had both hands upon her, exploring all that extra surface area that had been added onto her monumental maternity, in the relatively short time that she had been away.

"Apologies, sir. I thought today was a free day, so that there was enough time for all attendees to arrive from their respective flights. I will...endeavor to learn the p-proposed speech first thing, tomorrow morning...", Cassarah stammered, her calm demeanor faltering in the face of the physical stimulation. Her belly had been getting a lot of rubbing that day, but with her time spent with Ben still fresh in her mind, Cassarah could easily note the differences between a man and a boy's touch. Aside from Sen being able to simply reach more, there was the intent behind his touch, so much more forward, lustful. Ben had no shortage of interest in Cassarah's figure, but it all had been couched in some degree of innocence. Not here, not with her boss. His sensual touch left Cassarah squirming in the hotel suite, not that it was by any measure undesired.

"So, I...visited the fair. Saw what little I could ride, even took part in...nnh...a pie-eating contest..."

As she speaks about her day, his hands shift. Down from the exposed top of her vast belly, lower, lower.. until as her voice trembles- his thumb and pointer finger round, and stroke her vast, bulging navel. He smiles- sweet, sibilant, enjoying what his hands to do her. Covetous, hungry, his broad fingers roaming her vast womb as if he could own it. Take it.

He shakes his head with a sigh. "A few more pies and you may have been sleeping in the garage, dear miss Wilhelm." He teases, fingering her popped-out belly button with one hand, while the other hefts her vast gut. "You look nearly a foot-and-change rounder all around you.. just how many pies did you eat?" He hums. Curious. Intensely so. Hungry for her admissions of her own depravity. He encourages her by leaning on her belly. Letting her feel his body heat. His sleek muscle. His hips, firm, and couching the swelling feeling of something beginning to tent within his tailored suit. A stiff, lurid shape that Cassarah knows all too well.

Cassarah couldn't help but feel just a bit embarrassed by Sen's unbridled interest, but she doesn't hold back on divulging information. It was Sen's right to know what she did, even if uttering it aloud had started to make her prior actions seem absurd, in retrospect.

"Ah...? H-how many? I t-think somewhere around...forty...? I had won, in the end...", Cassarah huffed, only for her great gut to give a grateful gurgle, right at that very moment. Cassarah had no problems remaining at a stand, but somewhere along the way, she had been guided towards Sen's bed, which she sat at the end of. Her ankles were more than happy for taking a load off for it, with her so tremendous, breaking new records for personal size. Her pregnancy utterly dominated her lap, making her seem more womb than woman, even if that was not technically the case. Yet.

"As you might imagine, I am...v-very full...I never thought I could eat so much, but, it almost came naturally..."

Sen's eyes widen at the admission. But only for a scant moment, before that same calm, hungry smile returns to his lips.

"Forty, for now.. we'll have to see how that changes as you develop." Cassarah can almost see the calculus for her breakfasts, lunches, and dinners going through his mind in real time. All as his hands never relent in their persistent massage. Searching her belly for rumbles, kicks, pockets of air. Steady and needy, Sen leans on her vast pregnant swell and stares over it to Cassarah. "You needn't have added you'd won. If someone could eat more than that, they'd fly apart at the seams.. but you do seem to be close to your limits." He tilts his head, thinking, a smile alighting on his face.

"Say.. if there are any sore spots, painful skin or pinching.. I did pick up some massage oil for the trip. Have you ever had a proper belly massage before?" He asks, his tone lilting between playful amusem*nt and passion.

Sen soon had a bottle of oil in his palms, and Cassarah cast her gaze upon it, before looking back over her tremendous maternity. She thought back to that one time on her vacation out in the country, where Percy helped her apply sunscreen lotio over so much of her body. Similar in some aspects, but with that at least having the excuse of being for a utilitarian reason, Cassarah couldn't really claim that have had a 'proper' massage, before.

"Unless you count putting on sunscreen, then, no, I do not believe I've ever had a massage...", Cassarah confessed, leaning back somewhat, while still seated at the end of her boss' hotel room bed. Fresh from her fantastical feast that had pulverized dozens of pies, the blonde was larger, wider, and rounder than Sen had ever seen her, and it showed. So much belly, far more than her arms could reach around herself, was propped atop her thick thighs like one of those beach balls tourists like to play with on the shore. And it was still completely bare, with Cassarah still in the casual clothing she had gone out in. Those denim shorts might as well have not been there for how little they covered, and her white top was more a sports bra than anything meant to cover her torso. That shirt was the first thing to go when Cassarah prepared herself for Sen's touch. She could tell where things were going when the oil was poured out onto his hands before she had even replied.

"...I would be honored if you would show me how it is done."

Sen uncorks the bottle, and rather than wasting his time in measuring , or dolloping the amber cream in his hands- he instead takes the bottle, and drizzles thick wavy lines of the oil down over Cassarah's vast front. The touch of the surprisingly viscous oil is cold, a flash of chill that laces her warm, gurgling stomach as her babies within shift and move in protest.

"As you decree, Miss Wilhelm." Sen murmurs, re-capping the bottle and setting it beside the bed. He rubs his hands together, and then they descend. His hands rub and soothe the angry pulses of an overstuffed middle, tending to stretched skin and aching organs beneath- as blossoms of heat bloom across her belly. As the oil is massaged into her skin, the cold sensation dissipates- and warmth penetrated the thin outer layer, lancing down into her belly. And that is to say nothing of the feeling of Sen's hands on her body. Slow. Deliberate. Moving in round, stroking motions- using the balls of his palms, and his fingertips to rub and pay special care to any tender spots. It is a surprising act of devotion. Meant for Cassarah's own pleasure. He has to move around the bed to massage the entire swell. Kneeling to reach under, towards her thighs. And to each side, rubbing the oil into the taut skin near her waist and ribs. And, as on occasion his fingers brush just close enough to leave sticky trails on her breasts underside, Sen wears a sly little smile. But he works in startling quiet, focused intently on his work. When he is done, the entire surface of her belly is left glistening and warm. Sen continues gently rubbing her belly, a look of satisfaction and pleasure on his face as he studies her navel, paying it special care as he lightly strokes her belly button.

Full. Cassarah knew just how full she was coming in, but was made explicitly aware of that fact throughout Sen's personal massage. Full of food, namely pie, and full of babies, if far, far more than she could ever fathom. Cassarah's tremendous stomach wasn't just some balloon, pumped with air, but a womb and a stomach bloated to the extreme, yet finding ways to stretch and grow further and further by the day. Cassarah wasn't quite certain as to when she started to lean back, but well before her boss had gotten even halfway done with the oily application, she had begun to lean back, and bask in the sensual attention. That initial chill had blossomed into tender warmth, a kind that had Cassarah huffing sharply one moment, and writhing atop Sen's sheets the next. She could barely see what her own boss was doing sometimes, between the breadth of her belly and her engorged, perky udders that perched atop it. But Cassarah could always feel where his hands were, and it never failed to delight.

When he was done, there was a carnal sheen to her bare skin, notable even in the dim light of Sen's private suite. Cassarah had thought she was satisfied for the day, ready to go to bed, but she found herself hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, and fighting them to get off of her wide, wide hips. They were on so tight, it took a good deal of effort, and Sen could see just how much the supple flesh underneath -be it her hips, thighs, or fattening rear- was bulging around the sturdy fabric. When the war to get them off was won, Cassarah just so happened to be lying back on Sen's bed, in the perfect position to be claimed once more.

Sen breathes out a rueful sigh, as Cassarah simply.. presents herself to him. After washing his hands the tall, wiry older man takes his crisp tie and loosens it- then unfastens the top few buttons of his tailored shirt. The next time Cassarah feels his firm, powerful grip on her- it’s to grip her soft thigh, and lift it up over his shoulder. The move might be a shock, but his intentions become quite clear as she might spy his other hand loosing from his dress trousers, undoing the fly and allowing his firm, full, olive co*ck to spring free form it’s confines. Any restraint evaporates from the stern, powerful figure she knows as Sen Sakimodo. What’s left is simply a man with desperate needs.

“Sorry, my dear.. but I seem to be in need of some relief myself. You’ll forgive me, I’m sure.” Sen’s voice is a husky, hungry growl as he uses a hand to push aside the flimsy fabric of Cassarah’s underwear, and lean his own hips in. Sen breathes out a moan of satisfaction as he buried his overeager tool, throbbing, hot, fat and needy, deep into Cassarah’s hips. Bruises from her several sessions with Ben are inflamed in an entirely different way. The boy had passion. But Sen has hunger. And power. The most this reminds Cassarah of is the possessive, hungry poundings she received from her brother back on the farm. Desperate. Rough. Passionate. As she’s laid out in her bed, paid for and provided by the man currently pinning her down, Sen takes what he is owed- slamming Cassarah’s body down into the soft mattress, head into the pillows, and f*cks her deep down to her throbbing cervix.

There was little time spent on sweet whispers and foreplay, the time for that had passed. As soon as the massage had concluded, Cassarah was ready, nearly as damp between her legs as she was across that great globe of a maternity, slathered with oil. She had come to understand that her libido was an entirely different animal nowadays, a far cry from what it once had been, prior to pregnancy. Cassarah's sex was nearly as ravenous as her stomach was, and just as quick to let her know. A tingling on her skin from the oil had coupled with a burning need in her loins. All Sen needed to do was to hoist Cassarah's leg, soft and supple from what weight hadn't entirely gone to her chest and stomach, and she knew to twist onto her side, taking up an impressive portion of Sen's bed in the process.

What followed was a great deal of moan-inducing, bed-quaking rutting, forceful enough to get Cassarah's chest bouncing and slapping against her belly again and again. Having just been with Ben, Cassarah could compare the two. The young boy had been delightful in his own way, enthusiastic and clearly enamored with her size. But with the much older Sen came the strength to back up that lust, pounding her again and again, battering the entrance to her womb as she did her best to muffle her own noise from the other guests on the floor. The walls of the hotel were said to be fairly soundproof, but with everything that started to transpire in that room, it just seemed prudent to try, anyway.

For all the good her restraint does, the echoing sounds of Sen's hips slapping against her prodigious, fattened rear still echo loudly, the symphony of their bodies colliding together filling the bedroom with a constant, rhythmic beat. One that Sen slowly ramps up. More, and more, and more. To the tune of his own restraint buckling and breaking. His grunts and moans fill the silence her stifled gasps leave, his features twisted with concentration as he leaves her hips reddened with each heavy impact. Cassarah knows this co*ck well. Very well. Well enough to feel its inevitable approaching release. The way the base flares and faintly bulges, the way his swollen jewels faintly pulse and begin to grow firm with pressure. His muscles trembling and flexing to support him as he rails Cassarah into the bed. A cry rips from Sen's throat as he buries his tool against her cervix, against her womb. Leaning in and against the vast swell of her churning belly, Sen buckles at last. And the aching hunger of her voracious womb is finally sated. Jet after jet of thick, virile cum bursts from Sen's co*ck in a magnificent, glorious eruption. Where her belly was warmed from the outside, now a spike of heat intrudes from within. As the swirling mass is forced through her cervix and up into her womb, those eager, strong, milk-empowered swimmers push rapidly up through Cassarah's belly. They know exactly what to do.

Cassarah only gets ten or twenty seconds of rest before the flares begin. Flares of heat and lust and fulfillment, as her poor eggs are exposed to the flood of eager sperm. One after another after another. Her belly grows even more toasty as one, two, four, six, ten spikes of heat erupt throughout her womb. Spearing as another baby is added to the impossible mass within. Her impregnations continue on, another pulse of warmth every few seconds, as Sen cradles her belly, rubbing the oiled mass affectionately. His other hand glides up- and slips under her bra, exploring her poor cramped nipples, sealed as they are, his thumbs brushing the areolae around fondly.

".. I see you've been taking.. good care of these.. no pain or trouble yet, I hope?"

Those pulses of heat last an.. uncommonly long time. Every time she thinks the last quiver of pleasure and warmth in her belly, that addicting sensation is done.. another lances through her womb. Again, and again, and again.. by the time the spears of heat are done with her, almost two minutes of constant pulsing pleasure have left her belly absolutely toasty within.

Cassarah was slow to respond, basking in the wondrous sensation that came with every filling, as if her body was doing her best to warn her that her debauchery still had consequences, even at this point. She was refraining from guzzling her own milk, but her body, made so outlandishly fertile already, found room for a few dozen future children from Sen all the same. She released eggs frequently, and again in response to a worthwhile breeding, Sen's showing most certainly counting among them. When that tide of swimmers invades her womb, Cassarah's brood swelled in number by a staggering amount all at once, leaving the buxom blonde basking in the post-coitus haze that made it difficult to coherently reply.

But as was the case every time before it, that deliriousness faded in the minutes that followed, if after Cassarah had spent most of it stroking her colossal stomach in the process. Her attention was then turned towards her chest, with nipples still clipped shut, thanks to the arrangement made with Sen. No amount of squeezing or rubbing could get a drop of milk to escape, which was the chief reason why they were so much larger, already. Ever since Cassarah's milk had really come in, she had been milking herself with increasing frequency, keeping the built-up supply, and the pressure in her bust, at a manageable level. Not so now, and not again until the last day of the conference. There was no telling how much they would engorge over the course of another several days, further fueled by breeding...and the tremendous amount of food Cassarah could put away.

"Ah...n-no sir, no problems yet. Just larger, and...fuller...", Cassarah huffed, still coming down from her org*smic high.

Sen chuckles, and his fingers dig into that tender, more firm flesh. Squeezing and groping gently at her engorged mammaries. He breathes out a soft sigh of amusem*nt, leaning his head on Cassarah's shoulder and placing a few faint, possessive kisses on her neck.

".. Trust me, I noticed. I almost regret losing such a.. delectable option for refreshment. But all meals are made more delightful by proper abstaining." Sen muses in a soft tone of voice. His other hand shifts off Cassarah's belly, gliding down towards her hips again. Shifting her legs so he can lightly, gently rock his hips up into hers. His co*ck, which had begun to soften in the wake of his copious climax- begins to throb faintly, painfully, eagerly within her, as Sen faintly smirks.

".. I know you as a woman of some appetite, in many forms. But, I should still ask.. do you feel quite sated? Or do you need.. more?" Sen asks, husky and playful.

Still upon her side, Cassarah looked to her boss on her shoulder, and guided his hand across her chest and stomach, relishing in every caress. She thought about the offer, how she was technically sated, and that she would be more than fine for the rest of the evening if she got dressed and waddled back to her room this very instant. But when Sen got hard between her thighs, that desire that had been extinguished within her was rekindled, and she met his smile with a playful grin of her own. Cassarah pushed against the bed, forcing herself to sit upright, heaving the substantial weight upon her frame in the process. Once she had, she moved onto Sen, cradling his sides between her thighs as she straddled him outright. A round two was more than welcome, as was a change of position.

"I could go for seconds...but this time, I'm on top..."

Sen would have to contend with some bruises the following morning, but it'd be hard to argue it hadn't been worth it!

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

The catering service delivered to Sen's room the next morning is significantly more than what a single man would need. Though the hotel staff are consummate professionals, following the instructions left by Sen, even the more peculiar ones. Once the copious feast was delivered to the room, Sen finally sees to preparing for the conference itself. He left a change of business attire for Cassarah, and prepared to go on ahead of the slumbering blonde. He slipped from the hotel room to handle pressing matters, enduring a slight, pained limp. But the aches had been worth it, just as Cassarah had promised.

About an hour later and after a breakfast the scope of which a family or two would consider hearty, Cassarah had ample time to freshen up and prepare for the conference, the notes pertaining to what she'd be helping Sen present having been delivered to her room. She had promised to review them and have a better understanding of the topics they would cover, but she ultimately did little more than skim the documents...due to some unforeseen delays. Mainly that, her wardrobe, having been ordered well in advance and at a size she imagined she would be at the time...was undeniably, irrevocably, undersized. It had been a pencil skirt, buttoned shirt, and a business jacket, much like Cassarah was fond of wearing while actually at the office. But no sooner had she finished getting those stockings up her long legs did she start to encounter difficulty. The skirt had to be fought to be tugged into place around her hips, her shirt and jacket refused to be buttoned all the way around her chest and stomach. Altogether, she put forth a far more...erotic look than what had been intended, but there was simply no time to try and put together another business-appropriate outfit.

Cassarah had already spent far too much time getting dressed, and had to leave her room atop her heeled shoes as-is, presentation notes barely read. She clung to them when she got to the assembly hall, doing her best to try and memorize their contents...and not think too much about how much attention she was garnering from the other businessmen and investors that had gathered. There simply wasn't anyone like Cassarah, so vast, busty, and pregnant. Nevertheless, Cassarah knew that she was representing Sen, and their company, with her presence. She simply couldn't afford to lay idle, or gorge herself on the buffet...as admittedly enticing as it was. Instead, Cassarah strutted towards the executives of her business, and those of other conglomerates. It was just good decorum to learn who was the most important here.

The conference hall is a massive showroom. Used to cater for tech firms and large conglomerates, a massive chandelier hands over the proceedings, glowing a warm yellow, where dozens of small booths demonstrate new technology being implemented within the company and by its sisters. Men and women in suits, coats, uniforms and more mingle and chatter in the buzzing hall. At its heart is the main stage. A projector hums behind it, and speakers take turns making their way up to a fairly hefty assembly of round tables, packed with stakeholders, executives, press, and more. The hall of pale marble and stone is austere, daunting, pristine. Cassarah's table was on the eastern side of the assembly. Tech leads from her firm sit comfortably in their seats, enjoying wine and small snacks. The main buffet rests on the western side of the hall, delivering hand-crafted meals to any attendees in need of refreshment. Sen was nowhere to be seen at this time, but the hall teems with coworkers, distant partners, and strangers. A talk on a special medical gel is taking place on the main stage, but the hour is early- well before Cassarah's section is due to speak on their own work. The various booths at the east of the hall are abuzz with demonstrations and small clusters of eager conversation. The western side has the buffet, and the tables sitting before the main stage make up the front. The conference is in full swing.

Stares greet her. An expected outcome of Cassarah's own.. state. In fairness, who wouldn't stare given what exactly is on display. But the stares from within this environment, surrounded by the well-kept, put-together, and noble.. is altogether a different feeling. Less awe, and more.. judgement. Not all looks are derogatory, but many are simply sympathetic. Apologetic. Looks that tell a story of understanding exactly why Cassarah simply does not fit the same picture of a put-together leader, as the others here. Polite conversation, and even more polite rebuffs meet Cassarah at first. Weaving between the tables with some difficulty. But, near the front of the presentation stage- she is met by a sight. Rising from their own seat with a disgruntled look towards their male companion, another man steps towards Cassarah as she walks by- taking a seat at their table, and pulling it free.

"Miss Wilhelm, I presume?" They ask. The man has salty grey hair, and a face lined with age. Maybe twenty years Cassarah's senior, dressed in a crisp black Italian suit with a pressed tie, hugging his older, but burly frame. The other man seems vaguely dissatisfied. Sleek, slender, with rich blonde hair, dressed in a paler grey ensemble. But there's enough of a resemblance to see the relation between the two.

"Please- you shouldn't be forced onto your feet this way, in your condition. Join me." His voice, gravelly- carries a gentle note of steel behind it. Like the unconscious speak of a military man. Not an order, but a request- one of many he doesn't expect to be refused.

Cassarah had been mentally preparing herself for the very first things she'd say when she approached the high-profile executives arranged at the table. Experience told her that first impressions mattered a great, and she was likely going to have to make up for her less-than-professional appearance, as the gentle breeze across what skin on her belly was exposed would remind her. Just about the only thing she had going for her was her well-honed ability to stride upon her high heels, even with all the added weight. It helped give her some manner of grace, when her body was becoming anything but dainty. However, before Cassarah could even open her mouth, the men spoke first, correctly identifying her. Either she had far more of a reputation that she was aware of, or Sen had gone to the trouble of telling his colleagues about her presence with him at this conference. In any case, it saved her the trouble of having to come up with a proper introduction, and so she deftly moved to reply, while also moving to take a seat. It certainly wasn't easy staying standing, nowadays.

"That is correct, and thank you, I would be honored to join you, today.", Cassarah replied, bowing slightly before moving towards the empty chair that the older man had prepared for her. The chair, thankfully made of meal, was up to the task of supporting her considerable weight, even if she felt the sides of her rear spill over the edges. Rather than call attention to that, however, she instead addressed the men that sat across from her, while getting as comfortable around the table as her oversized stomach would allow.

"I see that you know me, but I'm afraid I am unable to claim the same, Sir...?"

Cassarah let the question hang, inviting the man to relieve her of her ignorance.

The man in his crisp darker suit takes a seat, nodding in response to Cassarah. His countenance is calm, though not really relaxed. His posture is firm, tall, and he sits in a manner that conveys a certain pressure.

"I am Arthur Davant. Current lead of the Davant Foundation. My nephew, Crispin, is here in attendance with me. A pleasure, Miss Wilhelm." He speaks in that same gravelly, firm voice. In the time he shifted to sit- Cassarah might note a faint limp to his motions. The other man is rather absorbed in his drink, though on occasion Cassarah spies his eyes wandering to Cassarah herself. Briefly taking in all that is.. her. After a note of quiet, he speaks- filling the brief pause. He speaks smoothly, though there's a faint airy distraction to his tone.

"A pleasure, Miss Wilhelm." He says in a low, soft voice. Complimenting the dim lighting that illuminates the tables beneath the stage.

Cassarah is passingly familiar with the Davant Foundation. Rising out of the 80s, the foundation built itself on a non-profit basis, providing essential services in support of veterans needs. Their influence has expanded significantly on the west coast, making them a provider for several essential services- making cost-effective innovations in treatment for maladies common to the people.

Arthur. Cassarah could not say for certain as to who the man was, but immediately nodded as if she understood. Context implied there was a connection. A middleman between their two companies? Someone that Sen had been in contact with? The notes she had been provided, or more accurately, what she had read of the notes, made no mention of a Arthur or Crispin. But Cassarah was at least informed enough to know of the Davant Foundation, and the influence that it held. Where her own company mainly dealt in pharmaceuticals, the Davant Foundation had some overlap, but an entirely different start. Given the main subject of the conference was health, it wasn't all that surprising to see executives from Davant in attendance. What was more impressive was the head, and his nephew had elected to come in person.

"And it is a pleasure to meet you, Arthur, and Crispin. It is rare to see true executive officers come here, personally. Though, I suppose it was a much shorter flight for the two of you.", Cassarah replied with a faint smile, trying to ease the tension in the air. She had yet to make any dire mistakes, but it was still a delicate situation, akin to negotiating with royalty. The wrong things said could have dire ramifications for her company, and thus, her career.

"I am rather ease to spot, are I not? Just comes with carrying multiples, I suppose."

Arthur nods. "Indeed, on both counts. I was already in town for other business." His brow knits, and he visibly scowls towards another table. The other man, Crispin- clears his throat.

"Yes, my Uncle was negotiating with a representative from Symtech. It went poorly, unfortunately." Crispin wears a small smile, in contrast to Arthur. Even is he seems slightly bored, the man does at least wear the air of politeness well.

Arthur however sighs, leaning in and studying Cassarah for a few more moments. "Do you know how many multiples, out of interest? I'm no expert in this particular field- I let my specialists give their recommendations, rather than muddling with the details myself." Crispin as well seems curious at that remark, regarding Cassarah with a bit more interest.

The subject turned right back towards Cassarah's pregnancy, and while it made for an awkward conversation, she was in little position to turn it away. The men before her were influential. It was best to play along as best she could. Trying too forcibly to stick to purely business-related matters was bound to not end well without Mr. Sakimodo at her side. As she still had little idea where Sen was, Cassarah had little choice other than to dance around the matter as best she could. Her mind thought of the truth she thought she knew, that her womb contained just a large litter of puppies, but that was, in reality, an increasingly small fraction of what was truly going on.

"Ah...I cannot say that I do, exactly. I have been in touch with a physician through the company, but my next appointment is not until the day after I return. He assured me that all was well, during my last visit, however."

Arthur frowns slightly. He speaks with a steel-lined bluntness. "If I'm frank, Miss Wilhelm. It seems odd you'd not know, this far along." He says, in a low thoughtful tone. But he waves a hand dismissively. "Still. It's a matter of medical curiosity. Even in my years in medicine, you are a unique case."

Crispin clears his throat gently. ".. Forgive my uncle. He can be quite.. straightforward in his questioning. I'll admit to my own interest in your case, scientifically- but understand you're not obligated to answer." He shrugs lightly, putting forward an easier smile than before. Arthur huffs softly. "So much delicate dancing around.."

Beads of sweat formed on the back of Cassarah's neck, thankfully hidden beneath her hair. Hearing those words aloud had Cassarah inwardly admitting that the older man was right. Women having just one were informed, often on a weekly basis. Her pregnancy was anything but normal, and she had seen fit to put the matter out of mind, even as it grew larger with every passing week. A big part of it had been who the 'father' had been, but there was little excusing the matter without divulging that unspeakable truth. Cassarah made a mental note to definitely consult the physician she had met before once she got back from the conference, but currently thousands of miles away on the other side of the country, there was little else to do but roll with how things had played out.

"N-no worries, it is rather strange, but I suppose that is because it is exactly that - a unique case.", Cassarah stammered, forcing a smile and waving her hand to show no harm done. It didn't feel like pointing out that she was only going to be six months along soon would make her situation any less understandable.

Arthur huffs softly. He leans away, studying Cassarah with an empirical eye.

Crispin speaks up to break the awkward pause. "It is. I'm sure it's been quite challenging, especially enduring the flight here in your state. But, I'm personally impressed you've still managed to come. From the itinerary, you're to give a speech later in the conference, no?" He asks, tilting his head curiously. Arthur has turned his attention to his drink, sipping it and listening to the speaker on stage currently- discussing a niche new application of prosthetics.

"I'll be looking forward to it. You'll make quite the statement, I'm sure." He smiles, a warmer look than earlier. Though even that seems slightly.. learned. Plastic.

Cassarah made sure to reflect the accommodating look, forced and insincere as it may have been. "I just hope the statement I make is the one for the company, and less about my condition.", Cassarah laughed, inwardly wracking her mind over mentions of giving a speech. Far as she recalled, it was Mr. Sakimodo that was to speak, not her, and that she was to assist as she could. The fact that Arthur believed different strongly implied that Cassarah was very, very misinformed, and that she needed to do some last-minute preparations...fast. Slowly, she rose from the table to excuse herself, Sen's continued absence a good enough reason as any.

"Ah, but on that note, I must see if I can find my boss. There are things I need to discuss with him before the speech."

Once again, Cassarah bowed slightly before turning away, very aware of how tight the buttons were across her stomach and bust. She had to take care not to bend too much, lest any fire off while she was in the public eye...

Ping. Such a subtle sound. A faint echoing noise. One that simply heralds the horrible sensation of weight shifting. Dropping. Arthur doesn't seem to notice, taken in by the presentation on display. A small mercy that the executive doesn't notice. But Crispin is looking straight on at her, as the first- then the second button of her blouse are undone by the low bow. Allowing the heavy weight of her breasts to drop deeper, scandalously, out in front of her. Not quite utterly exposed- but now Cassarah is putting out a whole canyon of cleavage on display.

Crispin is caught gaping slightly at the sight, staring in legitimate awe as the fluid-filled orbs slosh into the open space. He gulps. "M.. ah.." He seems a bit lost for the right words. Understandably so. Arthur glances at him curiously. "What was that?" She has only moments to recover her dignity.

Rather than try and explain herself, Cassarah opted instead for a swift exit, pretending that she hadn't heard anything at all. Crispin knew, and she knew that he knew, but that was going to be the extent of the 'damage', if she had anything to say about it. Wordlessly, she continued turning around, and strutted away from their table, all while inwardly fighting back the urge to panic. A wardrobe malfunction this early was definitely not a good showing, but there was little use in worrying over what she could do nothing about. Her best option was to carry on, and pretend that there was nothing awry. That still left Cassarah dearly hoping her business attire would hold together for at least the remainder of the day. Something larger could be purchased in the interim day of the conference for the following day. Today, this was all that she had.

And so, Cassarah departed, only to end up heading towards the buffet, as her hunger made itself known. A growl from her tremendous middle, and the thought that a 'snack' could calm her nerves, and her course was set. She also had to spend some time reading what Sen had left her to review in detail, especially if it was true that she was giving a speech. The buffet proved...delightful. The fragrant scent of sizzling fat hits her nostrils as she approached. The buffet was laid out on a series of open windows to the large kitchen behind. Platters of prepared meats, duck-fried potatoes, fresh bread, drizzled salads being tended to by several chefs. Several kitchen staff also work to prepare foods off a printed menu- containing a veritable bounty of options. Most the offerings are of familiar European fare, pastas, broths, seafood and delectable other options. Seeing her approach, one of the workers, wearing a white smock and plastic gloved hands, greeted her with a smile. Though as he got a better look, his eyes widened slightly.

"Ah, mornin' miss. Anythin' I can get for you?" He asks pleasantly, standing by the open window. There's an air of theatrics to the whole affair, with grills and hot-plates visible from the window, show-cooking.

Breakfast hadn't been that long ago, but the sheer deliciousness of what was prepared, all free, had gotten Cassarah's mouth watering all over again all the same. Seeing what was available had been enticing enough, but smelling the aromas that wafted from the kitchen left the blonde's stomach rumbling in protest, cementing her decision to come here. It was so very hard to decide on just one thing, knowing they were all prepared by star chefs, and all paid for to boot. No matter how much she had, Cassarah didn't have to worry about the bill. That, paired with the gnawing need in her belly, prompted a decision that might have been fairly unwise, in hindsight.

"Oh, it all looks so good! I don't think I could decide on just one thing. Maybe a salad and a plate of pasta to start...but would it be possible to have a little bit of...everything...?"

He smiles at her. "Won't be a moment, miss." The chef smiled and stepped away, preparing a plate. Cassarah spied him head to a prepared pot, spooning out the simmering contents within. Rich and creamy-looking, he took a cooking torch, laying out a layer of cheese, before torching it to give it a toasty browned surface. He called to another chef, who quickly begins preparing the salad for Cassarah. In a short span of a few minutes, the chef returned with a large, glistening Macaroni Gratin, with the distinct smell of clam within. The other platter is a chicken pasta, crumbed and garnished with a tangy-looking sauce. The chef smiled, proffering both dishes to Cassarah.

"All yours, miss. Ah'll start working on another. I'll call when your next dish is ready, if I might have your name?" He asked, curious, leaning on the window and lingering by Cassarah.

"Wilhelm. Ms. Cassarah Wilhelm. And thank you, this is just the sort of thing I needed.", Cassarah replied with a brilliant smile, eagerly taking the plates in hand to start looking for a table in which to claim for her own. She swept her gaze over the dining area, spying one such table that was close, well within earshot of those managing the buffet. Cassarah couldn't have asked for a better seat if she tried. It almost made her forget that she still had an abundant amount of cleavage on display, in what may have been a factor in her above-average service. Nevertheless, Cassarah happily took her free food, and seated herself so that she could both eat, and pore over the notes that Mr. Sakimodo had left. If giving a speech really was in the itinerary, then it was all the more important that she put in some more preparation than the average high-school senior. All the same one hand kept firmly on a fork, pushing bite after bite to her lips.

"Alright, let's see if there's anything -nmh- about a speech. Did he mention a presentation, but not that I'd be the one giving it..."

Within the draft, Cassarah learned of the subject matter in today's speech. The technology getting talked about was a series of prospective supplements. Her talents were in organization and as a manager, rather than in matters referring to R&D. But the speech used a lot of technical speak. From what Cassarah could gather about the two supplements the presentation focused on, the target demographics are men and women of ages 18-44. Deciphering the use cases and effects of the supplements is difficult, and couldn't be discern at just a glance. That didn't stop Cassarah from doing her best. All while eating, at the same time. During her sturdy, a call from the kitchens has her see the same tall chef from earlier putting out two new plates. One is a bowl steaming, crusting the top with cheese. It smells richly of seafood- and is served with toasted bread. A chowder by the looks. The other offering is a platter of rice and several different toppings. Wagyu beef, salmon, all with faint drizzles of soy- freshly sliced, and raw.

"Order up, Miss Wilhelm!" He called cheerily. His eyes lingered on her seated frame, smiling, and behind the smile- the man enjoyed the view.

And the man would get to enjoy the view all the better once Cassarah rose from her seat to get that second course. The first had been more than enough to sate most appetites, but hers was not like most. Not even the pressure of having to eventually get on stage with Sen could Cassarah's hunger, which drove her right back to the chef to exchanged cleaned plates for ones stacked high with more delectable food. "Thank you, sir. This is just what I needed.", Cassarah gushed, speaking a bit more candidly around the staff of the venue. But in addition to her verbal gratitude, the chef was inadvertently gifted the sight of those luscious knockers bouncing and wobbling with every step Cassarah took to the serving area. Even on the way back, there was much to behold, from a rear so sumptuous, that was better suited to two chairs than one, and a belly wide enough to be visible from around Cassarah's torso, filling that business attire in ways it was never meant to be filled.

In short, voluptuous from every angle...and growing that much more, thanks to all the food.

Cassarah continued her study of the supplements she was to be introduce in her presentation. The materials explain that the first supplement, being called 'IRC', is a supplement that is being marketed to cancer treatment plans, certain mental health institutes, and other ports of call. The term 'Orexigenic' is used frequently in reference to it. Several of the health firms its being marketed toward are in attendance today. Time ticked by. And before long Cassarah's fork touched ceramic, leaving the platters polished clean. Thankfully, there is a light chime from the kitchen- and that same low, accented voice called out to Cassarah.

"Are ya' in need of more, Miss Wilhelm? We jus' finished some pan-seared cod, and some Carbonara." The heavenly scent of cheese, fat, and fresh meats sizzling lingers on the air. An ever-present temptation, as she sorts through the heavy layers of corporate jargon and labspeak all sandwiched together.

"Mhn...that sounds delightful. I'll be right there.", Cassarah replied, making up her mind all too quickly. The first course had been delicious enough, befitting the high-class catering that had been arranged for such a wealthy and high-profile conference. No local barbeques or ordering fast food, the cuisine was incredible, and so long as Cassarah had little other to do than to read her assigned material and wait for her turn, it was all too easy to reason that there was no harm going back for seconds...or perhaps more. It was definitely looking to be 'more', as Cassarah waddled towards the buffet line, returned with more plates stacked high with delicacies, and hadn't slowed down at all from her first course. Feeding a brood like the one she carried, whether she knew about them or not, wasn't an easy task, and while Cassarah might not have been consciously thinking about it, genuine hunger kept pushing her for more.

It was all the more fitting that Cassarah, trying to focus on her job, ended up keeping herself distracted from just how much she ate...and how that was steadily having an effect on her wardrobe. Her business attire, made in measurements that nobody else could even come close to, was steadily becoming less and less of a fit, as more and more food bloated her brood-bearing belly beyond the ridiculous roundness that it had already obtained. Fabric rode higher on taut, maternal flesh, buttons grew a bit more strained...and Cassarah just kept shoveling forkful after forkful of delicious morsels to her lips, while wrapping her head around the technical jargon of her pamphlet.

Further reading produced results. Orexigenics are appetite enhancers. After consulting some other resources, on her phone, with some additional research, Cassarah picked up on that much. It seemed like this supplement has been in the works for some time, undergoing several phases of clinical trials- and finally it is poised to enter market. That was the full supplement being unveiled. The other chemical is less...clear. It was far more obtuse, delving into stem-cell research and even references several papers on topics of gene-alteration and cloning research. But the core thrust of the project, is a hormone treatment being called THETA. The pamphlet spent almost its entire run talking around the supplement rather than explaining it in full. Very much a teaser of things to come, rather than a product being pitched today to the crowd. But, she does at least find the tag-line for it. "A change at our roots."

Learning that much took almost an hour. The buffet was, by then, starting to look depleted. A couple of gentlemen at a table nearby Cassarah's own are quietly whispering, eyes lingering on the blonde and her inexorable campaign against both the books and pamphlets, and her own hunger. And finally, she won out. From the kitchens, the chefs work with red faces to try restock the various counters with high-quality goods, barely catering to the wandering needs of associates that come meandering through the buffet. But at that moment, someone cleared their throat nearby Cassarah's table. And a soft, male voice intrudes on her dining and research.

"A moment of your time, madam?" Light, airy. And surprisingly young. A short teenager- perhaps sixteen years of age, draws Cassarah's attention. He's dressed in a dress shirt, vest, and dress trousers- a neat red tie splashes against his darker formal clothing. He has soft brown eyes and wavy blonde hair, his skin a toasty hue. He has a card on his breast, with the icon of Symtech Solutions proudly on display- naming the young man as Louis Barnaby, a guest of the party similar to herself.

The more that Cassarah read, the more she was intrigued, which made it that much easier to keep her mind on her upcoming presentation material, rather than the staggering amounts of food she was packing away. At some point during her numerous trips back and forth, her stomach had begun to rub against the edge of the table, even though she had started with herself seated at a wide enough angle where there had been plenty of space to start. But that, like the great slice of bear flesh that peeked out from between her skirt and business jacket on the other end of her immense stomach, was overlooked. Instead, Cassarah idly wondered about this mysterious THETA project. Whatever it was, it seemed like a really big deal, and it had become her job to hype it up with little more than fancy buzzwords and charts expressing what it could do...whatever it was.

But in the midst of her pondering, Cassarah had been approached. It was a younger man, still in his teens, a rarity among a conference full of adults that trended towards the autumn years. Cassarah had to fight the urge to shoot the man, with the nametag of Louis, a curious glance. His placard suggested he wasn't so big as to not need one, but Cassarah knew full well it was never a good idea to make a poor first impression in business.

"Hrm...? Something I can help you with...?", Cassarah murmured, putting down the fork. She only just started to feel satiated, much to the relief of the taxed catering crew.

The young man nodded gently, glancing at the other groups at their own tables, who were averting their gazes at the moment. Louis continued.

"Yes, well.." He lingered at the edge of entering her space, the table shes chosen to occupy, then does so- making his way to one of the seats opposite. "I'm meant to be looking bu-.. well, having, conversations with other partners here at the show.." His words are tumbling out just a little too quickly for the carefully ironed and pressed image offered by his suit and getup. He sighs softly, looking up at Cassarah again.

"I was hoping to know whats best to get from the buffet, since I saw you trying a few of the dishes. If- you'd be so kind." The manners again, seem tacked on to the initial thrust of the sentence. He scratches carefully at the back of his neck, studying Cassarah- and doing an admirable job keeping his gaze off the creaking buttons of her jacket, or the moaning seams of her trousers. When he's not looking at Cassarah- he glances over his shoulder, just briefly, unable to completely hold still.

Seeing the boy fidget had Cassarah fighting the urge to smile at his anxiety. He was young, that much was clear, and understandably nervous, surrounded by so many powerful people. Cassarah could hardly say that she was any better, she was just much better at hiding it thanks to experience. The thought that a slip up at a high-profile conference having potentially significant ramifications could rattle anyone's nerves. Cassarah was sympathetic, but at the same time, seeing that vulnerability stoked some depraved aspect in the blonde. The aspect that had, as of late, so frequently arisen whenever she had been around the young and the innocent. The young boys that she had played with, or offered a guiding hand. Without even realizing what she had been doing, Cassarah found that her thick thighs had been pressing together, thankfully hidden underneath that mountainous maternity. Mentally scolding herself for that lapse, she did her best to keep herself together and play nice with Louis.

"Oh? Well, if you're trying to narrow it down to just one choice, I'm afraid I won't be much help. From the pasta, to the seafood, it has all been divine. It really feels like you cannot go wrong with these chefs. Why, I was just considering a bit of dessert, myself. Care to join me? The name is Cassarah by the way. Ms. Cassarah Wilhelm, Mr. Barnaby..."

The young man actually blushed, when she called him by that name. But he just gives a stiff nod by way of reply, moving to her side of the table.

"Its good to meet you, Miss Cassarah. Do you need a hand?" He asked curiously, carefully, stopping by her side to offer the vast pregnant woman a hand up out of the seat. With her babies all fidgeting and bumping against the surface of that vast swell- not to mention the small avalanche of five-star delicacies currently being transformed into feed for those little monsters, her weight was certainly more fluid, less steady than usual. Louis was not particularly broad or strong-looking, but he extends a slender hand anyway- to a woman that might weigh three or four times his own mass.

"And, if it's not too much to ask.. is there a reason someone like you is attending? I'd have thought.. its a lot of work, right?" He asked, another lace of hesitance slipping into the boys tone as he waited on Cassarah, that hand still extended.

Having gotten up to get to the buffet numerous times already, Cassarah had demonstrated that she was in no need of aid, yet. Nevertheless, when a hand was extended to her, it was only polite to accept it, which was exactly what the baby-stuffed blonde did when she rose from her creaking seat.

"Oh, it definitely is, but my boss and I have an agreement. He wanted me to attend, and I got an extra-cushy vacation. So here I am. It hasn't been all bad, though, between the sunny weather and the local sights, it's almost like another vacation, outside the conference.", Cassarah replied, smiling in her practiced, amicable and professional manner, rather than that predatory smirk that had nearly slipped out before. Upon coming to a stand, her immense and oh-so wide belly brushed up against Louis, which Cassarah swiftly apologized for...if while taking great interest in seeing how he reacted. The two then made a casual pace back towards the buffet, where chocolate confections, namely slices of cake, awaited them. A part of Cassarah still wanted to take an egregious amount back with her, as her stomach always seemed to have room for chocolate. And yet, with company, and other conference goers to think about, Cassarah held herself back, settling for just an overly large slice.

"Mhm, this might be the best yet, if it tastes as good as it looks. But tell me Louis, was food recommendations really all you needed me for...?"

The slender youth hesitated for just a few seconds when her belly is pressed right up against him. Stunned, is the right word. Its clear the boy doesn't have much, if any experience with girls like Cassarah. But it was clear he didn't dislike the prolonged moment of contact, a hand on her stomach as they both steadied themselves. Louis took a similarly large slice of cake for himself, and a smaller slice of pecan pie, bringing them back to the table with her. He flushes as they walk, particularly when she prods him for more.

"Well...", He sighed softly, "...I-I'm a student, and as a part of my scholarship program, I got to attend this event with my tutor. But he's busy right now, and I'm meant to be busy sharpening my networking skills...so...I was looking for someone to talk to. I am sorry if I bothered you." He admits with an apologetic look. A look that barely escapes the orbit of Cassarah's many bulging curves. It might have been an admission of why he was looking for someone to chat with, but his eyes tell a whole other side to that story- eyeing Cassarah in motion with her fresh plate of food from the buffet.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that I'm offended. I've been plenty bored myself, sitting here on my own. Truthfully, my boss was supposed to be here, and yet, he left everything to me...", Cassarah remarked, on the way back towards her table. She stayed close to Louis, right up to the point where they had arrived, and he looked ready to keep moving, to head back towards his own table with his peers. But before he could leave, Cassarah gestured in his direction, beckoning him back to her side. Her own table had more than just her chair, and up until this point, they had been entirely empty, with her eating by herself. This was a good opportunity to change all that. "Why don't you have a seat, we can talk. Time is something I have a lot of, at least until it is my turn to present.", Cassarah hummed, leaning in just enough to draw attention to the acres of cleavage fighting to spill forth from her buttoned-up top. "I don't mind at all, really..."

Caught in the act of heading away, Louis stiffened at her gesture and beckoning hand. The real lock and key is of course, the way the rest of her softening frame beckons to the young man. Once his gaze is trapped in the sturdy cage of her straining cleavage, there was no escape. Louis shook his head, then offered a smile. "It would speak poorly of my upbringing to leave you without company, then." He said, polite and well-spoken as ever. He seated himself in the chair he is directed to- sitting quite close to the taller, broader business woman, and he unfastens the lower buttons of his suit coat to let it rest comfortably. "I hope the warm sun and holiday destination make up for this unfair workload of yours. If I can, I'm happy to help with anything you need." The young man offered. in his warm, ever-ready to please tone, smiling up at Cassarah. "At least- whatever I can do to lessen the load for a woman in your condition. If I can ask... well.. how far along are you?" He asked, a slightly more nervous tremor to his voice, as his eyes sink to where shallow diamonds of belly-flesh peek through her outfit. "You must be close to due..."

"I'm in the third trimester, yes, albeit not as close to the end as I look. Still some...growing to do...", Cassarah replied, dancing around the hard-to-believe truth of the matter. She was practically in the third trimester, give or take a week or two. The unspoken part, and the part that had Cassarah shifting in her creaking seat a bit, was that she was at the start of the third trimester, meaning she had at least three months left of growing to do, where the growth was the quickest and most substantial. Not even Cassarah herself could imagine just how much larger she would be by the end, which kept her inclined not to point that out for others. Instead, she happily swept her hands across that immense stomach she couldn't even reach around any more, following Louis' gaze right back to her own body.

"...But I was never one to take maternity leave unless I absolutely have to. And although the conference days are all business, the in-betweens have been lovely, almost like a vacation in itself. Why, I had a marvelous time visiting the local carnival, just yesterday...", Cassarah remarked, only to slightly regret bringing it up. The more she talked about that, the more likely she'd run into someone who had heard of her escapades, like utterly demolishing that pie-eating contest. She still hadn't gone back down in size after that binge.

"Oh, but pardon me, if you'd like to feel it, why, by all means..."

“I admire your dedication- you must have a great workplace then.” He said, softly in reply to her- doing his very best to keep his eyes level with her. No matter how polite the package, a boy is a boy. And that boy seized, flushing and floundering for a moment at her query, hands tightening against his suit trousers. In an effort to recompose himself, Louis cleared his throat. “Well, since you were so kind as to offer. I wouldn’t have assumed- I mean...” He blushed, his eyes drinking in her belly, and finally Louis scoots his seat closer. His hands lift, reach, then.. bliss. The tight, stretched skin across the far reaches of her belly, heavy with her latest meal and the prior one- receives ministration in the form of slow, steady circles of Louis’ palms. Louis is quiet, humbled, his delicate hands were left captivated by Cassarah’s broad swell- fingers stroking it tenderly, affectionately.

“.. How did you know I’d want to ask?” Louis asks belatedly, cheeks still rosy, as he struggles to look over Cassarah’s tit* to meet her gaze, faintly cool fingers stroking her swollen womb steadily, tracing the narrow diamonds where his fingers can brush her bare skin.

"Woman's...intuition, perhaps.", Cassarah huffed, underestimating just how delightful it felt to have her belly rubbed, particularly when it was taut and bloated to the extreme. She had only just finished stuffing her face all over again with the conference's buffet, adding a whole baby's worth of weight to her stomach, and sending pushing outward that much more. But in contrast to the sort of bellies that came with such wanton gluttony, Cassarah was firm. There was no mistaking her middle as anything but outlandishly gravid. She shifted her weight in her seat, much to the chair's protest, and sighed happily whenever Louis was so brave as to grace her bare skin where it peeked through her suit. Soon enough, a thought crossed the blonde's mind. How soon did she have to present, again? It wasn't for a while, last she checked. Long enough to...blow off some steam. Licking her lips, Cassarah shot Louis smoldering gaze, and promptly poised a question she felt he would be most keen to answer.

"Say, Louis...know where there might be a...quiet place, here in the conference? I could...mhm...use a bit of help, away from prying eyes."

Louis, utterly absorbed in tending to, pampering, and delighting in her absurdly gravid belly- only hardly glances up when Cassarah addresses him the second time. He blinked, smiling with apparently confusion- then realization dawns on his face. “Oh! Oh…” His gaze shifts to.. sympathy? He nods, rising to his feet. “Of course Miss Wilhelm. Here- let me help you up, there are a few empty conference rooms upstairs, I’m sure you can borrow one.” Louis assured her with a happy look, none-too-subtly giving her cleavage a fond glance, before looking away. For being such a slender young man, he leveraged himself well to help Cassarah up- and once done, he continues to lightly hold her hand, leading Cassarah towards the tall, sloped frame of an escalator in the main hall. There is no shortage of stares directed at the odd pair. Some confused, some assuming they must be related. Some narrowed, or averting their gaze from the unseemly display of Cassarah practically bursting from a suit, waddling through the throngs of thin, narrow men and women in dresses and lithe garb. And yet Cassarah can’t help but draw the majority of eyes. Louis smiled back at Cassarah, preparing to help her into the escalator- but as he guides her forward, they encounter something of a problem. Cold, smooth plastic rails press into her bulging belly- squeezing it and rumpling her shirt as the spinning rails trap and halt Cassarah’s belly. That hadn’t been a problem getting up here, but clearly that latest binge has had some effect- causing her womb to be squeezed on both sides by the cool rails of the escalator.

Louis looks shocked, staring at the sight. “.. Oh. Uh.. huh. Do you.. need me to help lift, or- or should we go to the elevator? I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were that big.” He blurted out, not thinking much about his words at this point. Busy gawking, of course.

The abrupt squeeze had come as a surprise to Cassarah as much as it had for Louis. She had come through an escalator fine on her way in, and they were all of the same width, but this one had her snagged all the same. All that food hadn't simply disappeared, it had ballooned her belly, leading to those very gaps in the fabric, and now, a rather embarrassing snag. It made for a great shift in Cassarah's expression, where she had all-but been basking in the attention on the way over, but when her belly proved too wide for escalators, color graced her cheeks. At least...for a few moments. There was just something about being so big that had her turned on all over again. And with a man by her side...she wasn't without solution.

Cassarah prided herself on her ability to roll with adversity, and what started as a problem soon prompted action. "Oh my, I must have had...a growth spurt. Louis, if you would give me a bit of a lift up front...? I see no need to walk all the way back to the elevator...~"

Louis flushed brilliantly at her request, warmth flooding his cheeks in a delightful bloom. He hesitates for only a moment- before the pregnancy obsessed hormonal teenager, and the gentlemanly student, find their purposes aligned.

“Of course- I’ll try my best. Here.. goes!” Cassarah feels his dexterous fingers reaching under, under her obscenely swollen womb. Gripping her belly tightly. Firmly. And he heaves that swollen mass, hefting it up as much as he is able- so it can rest atop the rolling escalator, rather than within it. The grueling effort leaves him even more red in the face- his head and chest hugging her womb as he toils to keep her obscene baby-bag aloft. Mutters stir at the display, but Cassarah is able to enter the lift, with just a few brushes against the cold plastic. It rolls upward, letting her take in the conference. But more importantly, enjoy her womb being hugged, cradled, held, in a man’s possessive, hungry grip.

“.. No snags, Miss Wilhelm?” Louis asked in a faintly strained tone- his hands sliding up her belly, searching for a better handhold. “Phew, definitely third trimester. I’m not feeling much motion.. are they a quiet bunch?”

"They've been...positively well-behaved. I suppose I should enjoy it...while it lasts.", Cassarah murmured, her tone a few degrees more lusty than it had been just a minute prior. Something about having her belly cradled and embraced stoked that sinful desire within her all over again. Louis couldn't see it from his side, his face utterly smothered by the blonde's world-class chest, but she had been rubbing her thick thighs together the entire way up the escalator. If there had been a moment where cooler heads could prevail and she could turn back from the temptation that burned within her, that moment had been thoroughly passed by. Soon enough, however, Cassarah was at the top of the automated stairs, and free from the grip of that pesky, plastic railing. Louis was free to let her belly drop back into its natural resting place, and Cassarah was free to look at the younger man like a piece of meat. She peered around, blue-eyed gaze lingering on her latest boy-toy, and stepped aside so that Louis could take the lead. He appeared to be more familiar with the layout of the building than she was.

"Ah but this conference room you mentioned...is it nearby? I do believe I am...in great need of your aid..."

“Right this way.” Louis responded, warmly, happily. Only a moment later, he tests the door for a small conference room. The interior is visible, the glass shaded so only outlines can be seen from within. The door clicks open, showing off a small room with a diamond shaped table, chairs surrounding it. A projector rests on the ceiling, and there’s a small shelf of books to one side. Louis paused in the doorway, as even a teenagers dense brain has to jog to life eventually. And, when he turns back to eye Cassarah from the doorway, just wide enough to allow her entry, he looks up to meet her gaze with his own, eyes widening at the.. naked hunger in them. His Adams apple bobs as Louis gulps, backing up a step. He clears his throat. “What..sort of aid do you need, Miss Wilhelm?” He asked. In his eyes, a war between propriety and fear, is waged against desire and youthful hormones, as Louis swallows again, trying to combat the dry feeling in his mouth.

"Oh, it is just the worst. A burning, aching, need, where I just cannot reach...!", Cassarah dramatically huffed, once the two were securely behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. She had been rather coy with her intent up to this point, but now that there wasn't anyone to overhear her, nearly all pretense was dropped. Cassarah's fingers went right for the strained buttons around her chest, and then her belly, unfastening them one by one. Well, up until she reached the lowermost ones, which were beyond her own ability to reach. No matter how much she pressed her stomach or stretched her arms, the final ones needed another's touch to open up.

So, Cassarah moved onto her skirt, pulling it down those wide, child-bearing hips of hers, and thrusting her belly right into Louis' embrace all over again. "Oh, Louis? Could you be a dear and get those last, few, buttons? I'm just so big nowadays...", Cassarah hummed, waiting for Louis to play along. Already, her chest was almost completely bared, apart from her undersized bra, which the ample flesh poured out of. Cassarah made no attempt to disguise her intent. She was fully committed to getting bet over that conference table nearby and getting taken for a ride..

Louis gulped. Again. Terrible habit of his, in stressful situation. Robbed of his breath for a few moments, the young boy just gaped. Gaped at the torrential outpour of obscene breasts and gigantic belly, only barely halted by the straining, heaving buttons at the front of her belly. Inches from him.

“A-are you sure? Is it safe to do this?” Louis asked, nervously, as his hands reach out with some trepidation. They settle on her belly, her bare flesh. The tips of his fingers slipped under the shirt. And he whimpered a little moan to himself. Soft, needy. His fingers find one straining button. Plink. Then, the second. Plink. His hands tremble on the last button for just a moment, before pulling it apart- and freeing the flood of the pregnant woman’s curves. A show his eyes are wide-eyed, eager, and hungry for, as his delicate fingers groped the front of her massive womb, palming the warm and taut skin and rubbing it gently.

“I would never s-say.. no, I mean- wow.. a-are you sure?” He asks, fighting with some difficulty to make his eyes meet hers.

"You felt it yourself. The little ones are very tranquil. Their mother, however...isn't in the slightest.", Cassarah reassured, letting loose a lust-drenched sigh when that last button keeping her formal shirt around her belly was unfastened. Acres of bare, taut flesh bulged into view, and as impatient as Cassarah had been feeling, she was more than happy to allow Louis a bit longer to appreciate the view. His hands, sweeping over her bare skin, was even better than when it had been through the fabric of her clothes. Were it not for that pressing, burning need that had her thighs grinding together, she'd recline and let the young man explore her body for hours.

But pregnancy had made an utter mess of her libido. That much had been proven by how swiftly she got aroused, and how often it happened. Whether it was younger men, older men, little boys a fraction of her age, or her very own dog at home, Cassarah couldn't stop herself from bending over and tasting that wondrous, addictive sensation that came whenever she got plowed. She didn't expect anything different this time, and promptly took her place by the conference table in a wide stance. Bending over, those breasts, just barely contained within her bra, slapped against the glass of the table, where they partially flattened from their own mass. Not nearly as much as they should have, being engorged, perky, and rounded as they were. And beneath the table ,and between Cassarah's legs, dipped that massive brood-belly of hers, pointed right towards the stiff carpet beneath her feet.

"Come over here, boy. Mommy is feeling...needy."

Carly curses, doing her best to adjust her skirt. The wine stain left in the expensive fabric isn’t awfully noticeable now, but dry cleaning it is going to smart right in the wallet. She breathes out a groan, emerging from the upstairs washroom with a preen of her messy locks, and stalks back down the hall towards the escalator. The next presentation is on the cusp of beginning, and if that oaf Victor is going to make her miss her rivals announcements...! Carly pauses, as a flicker of motion catches her mind. She looks up from her phone, glancing to the left- to the glass windows of conference room 11D. The lights aren’t on, and the glass is shaded and.. faintly steamy? Nonetheless, she sees someone.. several someone’s moving inside. She frowned. Nobody is meant to be using these rooms, they’re being saved for the private board functions after the main presentations are done. Her heels click towards the door.

Meanwhile, Louis is in heaven. Pants around his ankles, hair messy and sweaty, skin glistening. The room feelt several degrees hotter. Odd that, given he’s shed his shirt to show off his sleek frame, built like a runner. And with the stamina to boot, it would seem, as the conference room fills with the steady, loud beat of repeated slaps into Cassarah’s vast rump. She can almost rest her weight atop her vast belly, but with the force of each thrust her womb instead rocks, sloshing within with food and countless babies. Louis’ hands are not idle. Most boys fall in love with her belly. Fair play. But his hands find another target. Those slender, delicate hands stroke her overfilled udders. Hoisting them, sloshing them, milking them. Working the fatty tissues within, priming them to release...an action only stopped by the tight seals over each swollen nipple. Not that Louis knows, nor cares, as he roughly strokes and gripes her queenly tit*- even as he pounds her poor quivering womb from behind. His co*ck is pleasantly thick, not quite pounding on her cervix, but stuffing her hungry insides with his throbbing, fat member with every thrust. A healthy sack filled with eager seed pulsed with each impact into Cass’ rump, as Louis lets out a strangled moan, forcing his pulsing, throbbing co*ck not to erupt yet. Not yet. He hammered Cassarah’s rump into the table, till her belly is forced against the glass- as if trying to tip the portly woman over with the sheer force behind each thrust. All the same, the room is a cacophony of sex, lust, groaning table, and echoing slaps from the glassy walls. And then...the firm rap of a knock at the wooden door into the conference room. Muffled, thank god. The rooms are mostly sealed off from outside.

Louis froze, still buried hilt-deep in Cassarah, panting hard. “What...what do we do?” He asked, tense. Nervous.

Cassarah was deep within the throes of passion, just like how Louis was deep between her legs, at that very moment. He had dutifully played his part, burying himself as far into her birth canal as was physically possible. It was almost comical to note that the growing heft of Cassarah's rear was actually making that a little more difficult than it use to be. The pregnancy-fattened cheeks were quite proficient in getting in the way. But Louis was in more than far enough, pounding with all he had, and getting Cassarah's fattened, filled breasts to slap against the table again and again. Whap. Whap. Whap. Their impacts echoed within the conference hall, and thankfully, not beyond it. Were it not for the seals covering her nipples, they'd have assuredly loosed their creamy contents all over the glass table, and the frosted glass wall on the opposite end of the room altogether. So engorged, they were also that much more sensitive, so when Louis gripped them, Cassarah definitely felt it. The blonde was moaning, writhing, and gasping with erotic glee...right up to the point where there was a knock on the conference door.

"P-please...come again later! We are preparing...preparing for our imminent presentation!", Cassarah shouted towards the door, squelching her desire to moan to sound at least a little professional. The interruption couldn't have come at a worse time, with Louis caught, literally, with his pants down. Cassarah hoped that such an explanation would suffice, and at the very least buy them some much-needed minutes to finish up their fun...and evacuate before anyone else arrived. So close to climax, Cassarah couldn't stop bucking her hips even if she wanted to. She just needed that load from Louis, that wondrous org*sm inside of her...!

The door handle clicks. And rotates slightly, as the seal keeping sounds muffled is broken. A hand appears, wearing pearls, and a thin voice replies to Cassarah.

“There’s no need to-” As those words leave her lips, the woman freezes in the act of opening the door. Louis shudderd, collapsing against Cassarah’s back. She feels it. With her bucking hips, he couldn’t hold back. His poor co*ck pulses, swells up.. and then finally is unleashed. The flow of warm, thick seed bubbles up through her canal, deeper and deeper with each rock of their carnal hips. Thrust together, tight. She feels warmth building in her womb, and anticipation, as that virile seed sinks deeper and deeper in her belly- eager swimmers searching out her vulnerable eggs as the woman in the door. Carly groans softly, seeing the text message, just as she hand begun to open the door. They started early? And they’re presenting with their CEO, not just a guest speaker! She muttered a curse.

“J-just hurry it up!” The woman snapped in Cassarah’s direction. If her head had turned another 45 degrees, she’d see Cassarah bent over the table, being bred right that instant. Instead, the stranger turns, and the door clicks shut. Sealing off sounds just in time for Louis to release a desperately held moan of pain and release, slumping further into Cassarah as he lets himself cum his brains out utterly into her womb.

Cassarah paled. She thought Louis had locked the door, and that the woman had no way of actually entering. And yet, right as the young man fired off that incredible load of spunk she had been so craving, the woman that had so nearly discovered the two of them turned away, distracted by an abrupt message. Cassarah's heart was racing, astonished at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. But when her womb got hosed like she planned, it all ebbed in a sea of tongue-lolling bliss that washed over her from head to toe. Cassarah shuddered in Louis' grip, basking in the feeling that had her toes curling within her heeled shoes. Even now, so close to getting found out, it was hard to think it wasn't all still worth it, not when it felt that good, at the end. Cassarah had no idea another two-dozen kids, Louis' kids, were planted within her outlandishly stuffed womb right on the spot.

"Ah...I thought you said these were...private...haah...", Cassarah panted, shaking her head at the close call. As it didn't seem like anyone else was approaching, she was content to bask in the afterglow of another incredible round of sex. but only for so long. The woman's intrusion had reminded them both their alcove wasn't nearly as secure as they thought it was, and so, once the flow of spunk tapered off, Cassarah pushed herself upright to try and get dressed once more. Like when she was getting undressed, she required Louis' aid to fasten all the buttons furthest away from her, before she was in a state decent enough to head back outside.

"If you would...?", Cassarah asked, gesturing to the parts of her shirt she could not reach, "...I think...we'll take the elevator on the way back."

Another 26 eggs fertilized. Another dozen households filled. Another small companies worth of children promised to the world, the fruits of that obscene, overtaxed womb. But all Cassarah feels are the sparks. The delightful fireworks of her womb exulting in fulfilling its purpose in body-shaking ecstasy. Lumps form on her belly as the more developed children kick and shift, leaving her belly lumpy and sweat-stained, as Louis pants against Cassarah’s neck and shoulders, smiling with glee.

“Right...right...” After extracting himself, Louis got dressed much more quickly. He watches Cassarah struggle for a little while, clearly enjoying the show some more. But at her promoting, he nodded quickly and stepped forward- helping to fasten up the rest of her clothing. He looked Cassarah over, ensuring she looks ‘presentable’. “You...may want to revisit your makeup, if you can.. but otherwise, you look good. Though, you certainly don’t need me to tell you that, Miss Wilhelm...” Louis said, still a bit giddy judging by the faint elation to his tone. He gets the door for Cassarah, escorting her back towards the conference proper..

Even when seed wasn't actively flowing within Cassarah, she was treated to that ever-loved, pleasurable tingling that followed in the aftermath of her every lovemaking session. She had yet to connect the dots to the sensation, and why it happened whenever raw, babymaking sex had been conducted, but she had never been the type to question a good thing. All that was important was that she felt great, better than ever and, mentally, ready to tackle a long presentation. Cassarah could imagine she needed a few minutes in the restroom to touch up her looks before going on stage, but with the frighteningly close call aside, her little detour had been so very worth it.

"I'll give it a once-over. Same with my hair. Feels a little...wild.", Cassarah hummed, fully aware of how much she had been bucking and rocking her hips back there. Once she stepped out of that still-steamy conference room, however, she was all business once again...or as all-business as a broodmother of her size could be. There was only so much formal attire could do to downplay the raw eroticism that was her fertile figure, swaying with her every strutting step. With Louis at her side, the two made for the nearest elevator at a fairly quick pace. Inside, however, Cassarah encountered something she hadn't encountered since she had left her work to go with Sen to this whole conference. Even with her back (and butt) against one wall of the elevator, her belly was immense to the point of grinding up against Louis on the other side.

"Oh, pardon, Louis. They really should make these elevators bigger...~"

The elevator door dinged shut, and begins slowly humming downward. Louis smiled, despite himself, flushing. Cassarah feels the subtle feeling of his trousers tenting, her erotic belly driving his poor co*ck to begin stiffening, fattening against her womb. He breathed out a pained sigh, and his hands descend. They were far less timid now. Her belly was molested, in a word- those delicate fingers slide in one of the diamonds of exposed belly flesh, and slide down onto her navel. His thumbs rubbing the popped-out extremity, kneading, groping her vast, throbbing, gurgling womb- and with the aftershocks of her recent breeding still fresh in her belly- that heat only grows more intense. Louis shifted his hips, grinding his poor co*ck up against her belly, just a hint. Gently rocking his hips for just a little bit of stimulation.

“They really.. should. It’s hard to be a proper gentleman, in tight confines like this.. I can hardly keep my hands to myself.” Louis muttered, smiling at Cassarah. The elevator begins to slow, and he tucks his hands away, cheeks flushed all over again. The doors ding, and Louis is forced to wait for Cassarah to escape first. He casually rests a hand by his thigh, obscuring any...visible evidence of what her belly does to him, for the moment.

A part of Cassarah wanted to see if Louis was keen to ravish her all over again, but the elevator ride down a single floor was brief, and allowed for little more than a few exchanged words and a bit of groping. "I'd welcome you to explore much more, but it appears we have arrived at our destination, and I need to make a detour to the ladies' room to get before a mirror again.", Cassarah retorted with a smirk, not-so subtly shoving her belly against Louis' groin one last time before the doors parted and allowed the two of them to leave. She was first, of course, and she was first to see the astonished looks on other people's faces as they stood before an elevator expecting nothing, and seeing a tremendously pregnant blonde step out. The very elevator itself seemed to shake when it was no longer bearing the weight of three extra people with Cassarah's departure!

"I'm afraid this is where we'll have to part, at least for now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Louis. Perhaps we'll see more of one another around, before this conference is over. I know you'll likely be seeing me on stage soon, at the very least."

Perhaps embarrassingly, perhaps gratifying, the elevator shifted with Cassarah's exit- pitching up just an inch. A testament, perhaps. The small group of men and women waiting for the elevator split to give Cassarah just barely enough room to escape. Behind her, Louis simply watched her leave- a hungry mix of want, loss, and satisfaction in his eyes.

".. Likewise, Miss Wilhelm. I'll be sure to reach out if we cross paths again." Young Louis promised, as the gawking crowd slowly turns back to their work- entering the elevator, and causing Louis to be swallowed up in the bustle.

Time was short, Cassarah's detour to the ladies' room had to have been hastened to the point where she wasn't entirely convinced that she had gotten herself as presentable as she had wished. Coming off an absolutely inappropriate romp with Louis, she had to worry about how her hair had looked, and whether or not any sweat was clinging to her skin. Pregnancy hadn't made her any cooler, after all, with her womb becoming a concentrated orb of warmth. Cassarah made do as best she could with the time available, and then hurried her way backstage, prompting a waddling shuffle that, were it not for just how erotic her figure had become, might have come across as comical. There just wasn't much getting around the heft and bounce of her chest, particularly when crammed in that business suit of hers, all while still balancing on heeled shoes.

Backstage, the bustle of the busybodies keeping the conference running filled the narrower halls of metal, concrete and ply with a faint tinge of sweat, grease, and the other scents of industry. It was rather awkward for Cassarah- forced to disturb workers or reroute when navigating the narrow halls. Many brushes of her womb later- against unseen laborers, cold iron walls, or near jams in tight corridors. But at last she reached M1, her company's assigned room. She spied two silhouettes inside. The tinted glass doesn't allow much more than that to be seen from the exterior. Thankfully, this door was wide. Maybe wide enough to fit through. Hopefully.

Fortunately for Cassarah, she didn't appear to be the only one stressed and feeling warm, as air-conditioned as the conference venue was. Unfortunately for Cassarah, she had to push past much of her sweaty fellow presenters and the conference staff in the process of making it to 'M1', a journey that might have stimulated her latent desires, had she not just blown off so much steam. But finally at her destination, the blonde pushed forward, feeling the doorway rub against her sides and provide a fair amount of resistance. Just enough resistance to get Cassarah fearing for her mobility, and prompting her to sharply inhale to get on through. The difference was but centimeters, if that, and yet, it felt so very necessary when she ended up clearing that doorway all the same to step inside. Then, it was just a matter of not looking too out of breath.

Breaching the doors, Cassarah walks in on a conversation already in progress. She catches the tail-end of something being spoken by a very familiar voice, that of Sen. She enters to find Sen, dressed in a professional dark suit, in subdued conversation with another man. Older, with salty grey hair and a lined face. Broad-shouldered, he’s wearing a lighter grey-shade of suit, a stark red tie against his chest. He doesn’t wear a badge, unlike Sen and Cassarah- a statement of its own.

Cassarah knows that face well. Franklin Pryce. Regional Manager for Bellegarde Holdings, one or two steps up from Sen himself- and several again over Cassarah’s head. Sen looked chastised, in a word, his conversation cut off by the ponderous entrance of Cassarah preceded by several feet of belly.

“Miss Wilhelm.” The low, gravelly voice cuts with the coldness of steel. There’s no anger to the tone, simply a hardness like that of a general. Crisp, expectant. “Sen assured me you would not be late.” Franklin muses in that same, flat tone.

Cassarah bristled where she stood, pursing her lips. Last time she checked the clock, she was on time, if barely. Had pushing past all that staff taking longer than expected? Cassarah couldn't imagine that she was late beyond a minute or two, but to bring it up gave the impression that Franklin was a man that counted every second. Getting put on the spot had a way of chilling Cassarah despite the workout that she had just gone through. She was forced to come up with a response, one other than the raw truth. 'Late because she had seduced an intern' wasn't likely to go over well with management.

"I do apologize, sir, but a woman of my...condition has needs, needs which this venue cannot always accommodate for.", Cassarah began, wondering if her tone might sound a little too defiant. Thinking about it, she swiftly pivoted to a more humble response, bowing forward in a way that, coincidentally pushed her oversized chest and deep cleavage into full view. "But I assure you, Mr. Pryce, I will take measures to ensure that this does not happen again."

With her response finished, Cassarah then straightened her posture, looking ready for whatever the two men could ask for her...or as straight a posture as she could manage, with her fertile figure so very, very large.

Mr Pryce assessed her, his eyes glinting from that stern face. Beside him, flaring with some sort of irritation- bristling much as Cassarah had, Sen spoke.

“As she has said. And, as you well know, my department has suffered no adjustments to productivity despite-“

He’s cut off by a wave from Franklin, who was still eyeing Cassarah. Not the way she’s used to. He doesn’t ogle her, or let his gaze wander down to her plunging cleavage or search of ridiculously fecund belly. It sticks to her face. Scrutinizing. He glanced to Sen.

“Mr Sakimodo, I will have a word with your subordinate. I believe you have a table to return to.” A dismissal. Again, Sen bristles, but does not bite back. A terse- “Of course, Mr Pryce.” Is his reply. He looked to Cassarah, giving her a level stare and slight nod, before leaving through the door she just entered. The room went silent. Franklin walks out from behind the table at the center of the room, his eyes finally roaming to take all of Cassarah in. His brow knitted, concentrating. Mr Pryce does nothing to break the awkward quiet that follows. Leaving Cassarah to do so, in her own way.

The awkward silence that built up following Sen's dismissal from the room was both palpable and stifling, and it was a struggle for Cassarahto not let it show. For someone that seemed so focused on efficiency, Mr. Pryce had let several second go to waste as the two merely sized one another up. Cassarah had gotten used to gazes from men, usually those of the lustful variety, but one that was entirely business ,and scrutinizing, was a change of pace, something Cassarah hadn't really encountered since she had first gotten pregnant. He declared he wanted 'a word' in private with her. So far, he hadn't said a single thing once Sen had left. It fell to Cassarah to speak up.

"You said you wished to have a word with me, sir? If it is about the upcoming presentation, I have been reviewing the material in the booklet left for me by Mr. Sakimodo. I am no novice when it comes to presenting a product. I will assure you that everything will proceed smoothly and without incident.", Cassarah began, breaking the moment of silence, only for it to steadily creep in again. Before it could get to that point a second time, however, Cassarah elected to speak up again, just as some subtle movements from the offspring in her belly caused that great, gravid gut to ripple before her.

"...or was there something else that you wished to discuss, sir?"

The imposing man lingered in silence a moment longer, even after her explanation and query are made. She can barely hear the bustle of bodies in the backstage, the industry that surrounded her moments ago. This air-conditioned room feelt almost more stifling than those humid, tight corridors. Mr Pryce finally speaks up.

"I am certain you are prepared for the presentation." He replied, his brow knitted in a tight frown. "Has Mr Sakimodo spoken with you about his prior position within Bellegarde? Or of the Theta Project." His words were again crisp, sharp, and pointed. No leers. No distraction. After months of fawning over every inch of the swollen girth of her rippling belly, this is perhaps the first time her fecund, overripe figure hasn't helped her get what she wants. For once, it feels like a heavy, gurgling burden. Those sharp golden-brown eyes continued their study of Cassarah. Expectant.

Cassarah nearly withers under Mr. Pryce's steely gaze. She wanted to tug at her suit jacket, to shuffle in place. So many anxious, reflexive, responses. Cassarah had to suppress them all, as to not look like an intern over her head. If she gave Mr. Pryce any reason to doubt her abilities, she was certain that he would make arrangements to have her replaced. Fortunately, his response seemed to imply some level of confidence in her ability to perform, even if the inquiries that followed left Cassarah on edge.

"Prior position...? No, no he has not, sir. Nor has he spoken to me about the THETA project, at least in person, prior to this. All I know of the project are the materials he left for me, these here, and the good it would do for the world while putting our company in a position of great influence. I also understand that it is of great importance to Bellegarde Holdings, a veritable breakthrough. I will do all that I can to see it succeed.", Cassarah replied, looking right back at Mr. Pryce, and doing her best to ignore the literal squirming within her gut. The back and forth with Mr. Pryce was starting to leave the impression that speaking to a crowd was going to end up being easier...

It's hard to read anything in that grim implacable face. The kind of face that makes awful decisions that kill men and women every day. Not the kind of face that belongs to a company peddling pharmaceuticals. Or perhaps exactly the sort of person to be leading.

"I see." Her answer seems to have satisfied Mr Pryce, somehow. He looks away from her, instead to a collection of papers on the table beside him.

"And Mr Sakimodo has been a proper and respectful lead? Especially with regard to your condition. I would know the truth of the matter." The second question comes as Mr Pryce glanced up from his papers. Those sharp eyes glinting in the dull glow of artificial light from above. A sterile grey tinge fills the room, lit by the vague fuzz of fluorescent bulbs.

Perhaps it was for the best that Mr. Pryce had come on so strongly with that pressure of his from the start. Where Cassarah might have lost composure from such a pointed question about Sen had it come from left field, or if he feigned a far more amicable personality, but her not-quite-an-interrogation had steadily steeled her for anything that the regional manager could throw at her. Instead, Cassarah flashed a fair, professional smile without batting an eye.

"I have no complaints over Mr. Sakimodo's leadership, or conduct. He has done much to accommodate me, and my current condition so that I can continue our work at Bellegarde, and for that, I am truly grateful.", Cassarah replied, sticking to the 'truth of the matter'. Her words had been cherrypicked, but there was no falsehoods among them. Cassarah had nothing to report in the negative, and Mr. Sakimodo had done much to ease her day to day, so that she could continue coming into work. Cassarah could only imagine that other managers would be doing all they could to get her to take maternity leave, instead.

Silence hangs in the air between them. Despite the honesty she speaks with, Cassarah detects a suspicion in those sharp eyes as he regards Cassarah. Mr Pryce breathed out a tight sigh.

"If you are satisfied, then I will not probe further." There was resignation to that tone. Gruff, irritated, but it seemed that Mr Pryce considers the matter settled. "You're missing a button, I believe." Mr Pryce added, with a faint furrow of his brow- not even looking in her direction anymore. Instead, he collects his briefcase, snapping it shut with a click.

"That will be all, Miss Wilhelm." Mr Pryce finished, and begins striding purposefully toward the door.

"I-I will amend that right away!", Cassarah stammered, the mention of her attire having become a curve ball in the conversation's end. She had only just breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Pryce readied himself to leave, only to find out that he had taken offense with her outfit in some way. Comically, Cassarah did not know just where the button was missing from, be it from the bottom-end of her shirt around her belly, or up top, around her chest. She had to wait until Mr. Pryce had excused himself to find out that it had, in fact, been below, likely a direct result of helping herself far too eagerly on the buffet. As a result, a slice of bare belly was exposed, not flagrantly, but enough for anyone who was looking that far down, as Mr. Pryce had been.

"I knew I had missed something in the bathroom...", Cassarah groaned, once Mr. Pyrce was out of the room, and quite likely, well beyond earshot. She began to take one of the spares, pinned to her cuffs, and fix the missing button for the short term. With her presentation imminent, and with its importance having been stressed again and again, she couldn't afford to let anything potentially ruin it.

She was in the midst of disrobing, working to fix her missing button- when the door clicked, the familiar face of Sen slipping back inside in the wake of Mr Pryce's departure. His expression of flashing anger, irritation, and worry melts into surprise and.. a familiar smile, at the sight of Cassarah.

"Ah. The conversation can't have gone that poorly, if you're happily stripping down minutes after." Sen's lilting words still carry a faint edge even though he's smiling, as he walked around the table to Cassarah. His gaze was a little less iron-clad than Mr Pryce, happy to dance down to her cavernous cleavage and the obscene dome of a belly beneath.

"What happened? Got a stain?" He asked, and rather than striking out to grope or toy with Cassarah- he first helps her with her clothing, given her ungainly methods of tending to such things.

"Mr. Pryce indicated that I was missing a button, and as I swiftly discovered, it was beyond my ability to reach while still wearing the shirt.", Cassarah replied simply, showing no shame at Sen walking in on her while she was down to her lacy undergarments, up top. He had seen far more than her bra, before, and made no attempt to disguise his interest in her figure, fattened, fertile and fecund, as it was. That was a delightful change of pace from the icy grilling she had gotten from Mr. Pryce, and immediately, Cassarah was able to loosen up to a degree.

"He is...quite the intimidating man. But yes, the conversation went about as well as I could have hoped for. There shouldn't be anything to worry about on that end.", Cassarah reassured Sen, while not going as far as to bring up the fact that he had been outright mentioned. She had covered for him, while sticking to the truth, and was more than happy to maintain this relationship of give-and-take for as long as she could. That sort of exchange was practically, the foundation of business, after all.

"He did keep asking me how much I knew about THETA. You sure everything I need to know is in the materials you gave me? I learned it well, but I don't want to miss out on presenting something important, or leave out any poignant examples..."

"Bringing THETA up at this conference is more of a stunt, than a press release. My idea, of course. We're provoking our competition." Sen explained, in his usual easy, relaxed way. His fingers drifted across her belly- an almost absent, idle gesture of affection. Little bumps pepper the surface under his fingers. He then started to help her slip her shirt back on.

"Damn. If we had a half hour..." Sen said with a dry chuckle, admiring how she's nearly bursting from the outfit, so taxed from her deviance both at the buffet, and with Louis. "I don't quite remember it being so undersized when I ordered it made." He smirked, fingers lightly teasing the farthest edge of her swollen belly. "But you know all you need for the presentation, Cass'. Anything else? You have ten minutes before you'll be on stage."

"A stunt, hm? I had gathered there had to have been something to it, what with all the fancy buzzwords and circular language in this pamphlet you've given me. You can count on me, Sen, I've done my share of speeches that ultimately go nowhere. Don't think there's anything else...only that if you keep stroking me like this, I'm going to have a real hard time concentrating on the presentation.", Cassarah huffed playfully, already feeling the pleasure that came from a man's touch on her taut, stuffed stomach. She might have had her moods, her desires that had her seducing boys a fraction of her age, or downright animals, but that hadn't lessened her appreciation from someone closer to her in the slightest, doubly so when they knew exactly what they liked about what they saw. Had they had more time, Cassarah might have taken Sen up on his sensual offer, even after just coming back with her romp with Louis!

"Alright, I'm ready. I'll be heading out, now. If all goes as well as I expect it to, treat me to something nice afterwards, yeah? I can still wear an evening gown like this, you know..."

Sen breathed out a longing sigh at her provocation, his face and fingers painting just how that thought entices.

“There’s a champagne parlor that some of the attendees visit after the exposition finishes.. perhaps we can make time tonight for a visit.” He purred in his low, husky voice. His fingers don’t wait, gliding down to the underside of her vast belly- hefting it, as if trying to counter the vast weight settled within. Sen breathes out a long sigh. “Good luck out there.” He said simply, flashing her his sharp smile. He steps away, and gets the door for Cassarah- though removing that only barely makes it easier for her to squeeze through.

The steps onto the stage are not far away. Cassarah was given a cue and count-down to her moment, and she hears the buzz and hum of the seated attendees in the crowd outside. It sounded more abuzz than it was earlier in the show, more packed, vibrant, interested. The low hum of many voices and footsteps drones together, an oppressive weight to the common man or woman. A young clerk gives Cassarah a countdown, as out on the stage- the shows presenter introduces Bellegarde Holdings, and their representative for the evening- Cassarah Wilhelm.

It was at that moment, Cassarah thought about her upcoming evening. A bit of back-and-forth flirting with Sen was par for the course for Cassarah at this time, so it wasn't entirely clear whether or not a 'fancy' evening was actually in the cards for the two of them. Although a fancier gown had been packed among her belongings, and it had been sized for her before she had left, like many things in her wardrobe as of late, it wasn't likely that was still the case. Nevertheless, Cassarah told herself that if she did get that invitation from Sen, she'd absolutely take him up on it, even if her condition didn't actually allow her to partake in champagne.

But before she afford to spend more time dwelling on that, she had a presentation to take care of, so she boldly strode aboard the stage, her tall heels clicking underneath her ponderous steps. It was, without question, that all eyes were upon her once she was front and center, with a spotlight beaming down upon her fabulously fertile form. Plenty of those in the audience had likely seen her already, just around the conference, but it was something else entirely to spy her sumptuous form illuminated by lights. With just a quick sweep over the crowd, Cassarah could see plenty of men, and women for that matter, astounded by what they saw. She paid them little heed to stand in front of the screen behind her, which soon lit up with the Bellegarde Holdings logo. Memory was never an issue for Cassarah, but she could forsee no problems in that regard, with a teleprompter as backup. Cassarah began the presentation like a practiced showman, even as her figure bobbed and swayed with her every step across the stage.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As your Bellegarde Holdings representative, I pleased to introduce to you something we at Bellegarde have been working on for some time...Projeeect THEEETAAA...!"

In a room simultaneously too hot and too cold, under hundreds of eyes, Cassarah gave her presentation. For his many faults, Sen is an excellent hand at working a crowd- and the unique spectacle of Cassarah draws many more eyes than a speech delivered any other way might. By the end, applause rings, polite rather than raucous or loud. The presenter for the conference emerges from the backstage to ferry the excited crowd into the next topic, as Cassarah retreated from her podium. Greeted with congratulations not just from Sen, but from marketers, investors, and other company representatives- the next hour was a whirlwind of faces and names that all blur together. She’s put her face on the branding of Theta- and it seems that alone has skyrocketed her import and value to the seasoned eyes of the hawks in the industry. Cassarah was, fortunately, pulled away at last by Sen as evening begins to roll around. Not after receiving three invitations to the Black Flare- the apparent destination of this after party.

Away from the crowds, in the dim of the conference- Sen flashed her a weary smile. “Well played. You’re nothing if not eye-catching. That invitation of mine still stands, if you’re inclined..” He offers, giving Cassarah one of his arms to lean on should she need it.

Cassarah breathed a long sigh of relief. She was used to giving presentations, and standing in front of a crowd, but never had it quite been so taxing - mentally and physically. Not only was she feeling the gazes of so many influential representatives to businesses across the world, she was hauling her growing, gravid figure on stage, balancing on those high-heeled shoes of hers. When it was finally over, she was definitely delighted to have a moment to sit down, and relax, taking a seat -or two, given the breadth of her backside- and helping herself to a cool drink with Sen at her side.

"An after party...I think I could go for one of those. I still got that dress you gifted me before we left. It'd be a shame to not wear it at least once, Sen.", Cassarah replied, a smile on her full lips. Like her current business attire, Sen had provided her with many things for this whole extended business trip. Measured for her size before she had left, they should have remained a perfect fit for the duration of her week long stay. Only, the snug sensation of her barely-buttoned business suit implied that this wasn't the only outfit that had likely become a little undersized. Nevertheless, Cassarah was determined to make an appearance that evening, especially since so many had linked her face to the company's latest initiative.

"Alright. You're on. Just do me a favor, and arrange transportation. I'll take care of the rest and meet you at the venue, tonight..."

“I’ll look forward to it.” Sen replied, flicker of hunger flashes in his eyes, though he wears his usual polite smile for the sake of the other departing guests. Cars moved in the front lobby of the hotel hosting the event, her hotel. And Sen guided Cassarah all the way to the elevator. And of course he subtly helps her squeeze through the doors.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

The evening turns like the spokes in a wheel. Nightfall came, as did a long, bulky limousine, pulling up outside a sleek, tall high-rise in the heart of town. A grand obelisk of glass and iron. Lights glow throughout the city no matter the time of day, but at night it is a field of glittering gemstones from up high, awash and beautiful in the dim of night. Attendants waited by the circular road that serves as a drop-off point for the ostentatious sky rise doors. That limousine is hardly the only car arriving- a small queue constantly moves through the circular road, dropping off guests for their evenings fun. Waiting at the foot of this procession, right on time, is Sen. Smartly dressed as ever, the tall and wiry man wears a pale cream suit with a rich red tie. It sets off against his tan skin, a very different look to his usual around the office. Perfectly tailored to hug his lithe, handsome frame the man checks a sleek watch for the time and watches the next limousine with barely dampened anticipation. That evening gown he had ordered for his subordinate was bold before Cassarah began exploding out of her latest uniform. He wet his lips. Patience. A drink is best enjoyed when savored. Slowly, patiently. Attendants approach the doors to the limo, lightly sliding them open- as the faint chill of the night flows into the cabin within.

Cassarah made sure to make the most of the time that she had. Having gotten a poignant reminder to the risks of cutting things too closely just earlier that day , she was all business from the moment she returned to her hotel. First on her list, a luxurious, warm shower, to wash off any lingering odors that might have clung to her after her affair with Louis in that meeting room. Mindful of how much time she had, Cassarah took care not to linger too long, as wondrously pleasant as it was to feel water run across her supple skin. Something about her motherly condition had made bathing that much more enjoyable, and were it a night where she had plenty of time to waste, she might have considered running a bath, and letting herself just...soak. Assuming she would fit, anyway. It'd take nothing less than a bathtub with the dimensions of a Jacuzzi to accommodate her, and her room was not so fortunate have one.>

So shower it was, followed by a great deal of cleaning and self-care, slowed by the awkward cumbersomeness of working around a figure so outlandishly chesty and fecund. Cassarah had to use thrice as many towels as she once had, just to cover just to cover all the extra surface area. Once that was handled, she retrieved her black, velvety dress that Sen had provided her from the closet. Comically large for anyone else, Cassarah swiftly discovered that, yes, it had become undersized around her outlandish middle and tremendous bust...as well as her pumped-up backside. Once her undergarments were in proper order, it took nothing less than several minutes of tugging the garment to get it where it was supposed to...or close enough to it. Something told Cassarah that the dress hadn't been designed to be that low-cut around her breasts, or ride that high on her butt. And when it came to her belly? It was practically a second skin, with her popped-out navel well defined.

However, it worked well enough for the dinner, and with nothing else remotely appropriate for the fancy event, Cassarah made do. Makeup...hair styling...she didn't let anything else keep her from looking her best, just in time for the limousine to arrive. Once again strutting atop high-heeled shoes, Cassarah strut her way down to the elevator, then the lobby, and then the street outside the hotel where she was then picked up. A short drive later, the driver would be opening that very door for her again, allowing her to step out and emerge to make her debut at the venue.

She'd be incredibly hard to miss.

And she felt the faint pinpricks on her skin of eyes falling upon her. How could they not. Men’s wives, women’s husbands. The unmarried, any and all with a working set turn to ogle. As the two attendants held the doors for Cassarah, she spills out onto the path. In all her glory. Sen approached, after a notable moment of simply drinking her in, he sidles up to her, and lightly takes her hand in his with an added flourish by kissing her knuckles.

“My dear lady. You are positively ravishing tonight.” He intoned in a low, satisfied hum, as he turns to offer Cassarah his arm. “I scouted the elevator- it looks too narrow, so I’ve asked the staff to let you use the service lift. Most kind of them.” He remarked idly, as the throng parts to allow Cassarah and Sen passage. They walk up to a sleek reception, where a valet paled at the sheer sight of Cassarah- glancing then to Sen, who gives a small nod.

“M-ma’am, if you’ll follow me..” The young boy said, flashing a nervous smile and leading the way for Sen and Cassarah. A the two were given a moment of privacy before the evenings' fun, as they walk from the reception deeper into the building, leaving the many ogling eyes behind them.

Just as had been the case when Cassarah had been on stage, all eyes were upon her and her luscious figure the moment she stepped out of that limousine, one, long leg at a time. There wasn't a person around, man or woman, that had seen anything like Cassarah, and the tremendous pregnancy that swayed before her with her every step. No one, except for Sen, of course, having been ever-present from the very first moment that Cassarah had announced her pregnancy to him and her co-workers back at their own branch. His interest was plain as day, and not just muddled in bewilderment, which was something Cassarah had definitely come to appreciate.

"Well, you did pick out a dress for me, so I have to say you deserve some credit in this. But I do thank you, Sen. You have a real talent for making me feel...wanted.", Cassarah murmured seductively, taking her place at her boss' side, with her arm interlinked with his. It was the natural position to take, given the two of them were together, only, in her case, it had the added effect of rubbing her wide, wide hips and belly against him, and pressing the side of her grand chest against his body. There just wasn't much getting around how big she had gotten, and how conventional approaches had been compromised as a result...much like taking the elevator like everyone else.

"I'm sure the service elevator will do nicely. Let us hope it is a smooth trip up. I feel as if I may very well bounce out of this dress if I am not careful..."

For once, Cassarah made an elevator trip with only minimal difficulty. Without the constraining tightness of steel pressing in on all sides she and Sen rose to the upper levels together through without issue. The elevator jerked on occasion, given that it was built for industrial-level function, not comfort. But any ruffles to Cassarah's outfit were easily fixed by Sen's deft fingers or a brief tug of her own accord.

"I thought I'd projected well enough for this trip. The dress was meant to last you till the end of the week at least...we may have to make a visit to a dressmaker, before we're done here." Sen mused in a dry, playful tone. His fingers brushed down the front of the taut fabric over her belly. She felt the thin creases of each finger, with how stretched thin the fabric was. His motions were teasing, to entice and enflame- but not enough to rumple her outfit or overly excite. Enough to pay her back for each love-tap of her hips, or every nudge of her enormous, squishing chest. "There is a dance floor, if you really wish to test the integrity of Bellissa's tailoring. Perhaps once I have a few glasses in me, and the rest of the crowd- so at least some won't remember the show." That hand brushed dangerously close to the plunging neckline of her dress, faintly creasing the fabric with a nervous groan of strained fabric. He chuckled.

"You had a number of invitations. Planning to shop around, or will I have your arm for the night?"

The trip upon the service elevator was not a long one, but Cassarah's presence made it memorable all the same. Every jostle and shake translated to a jiggle from the blonde's impressive bust and abundant cleavage. Sometimes, there would even be a faint slosh, as the milk contained within them, building up since Sen first sealed them shut, churned around. It was a safe to say that, without an outlet, Cassarah's cup size had been advancing faster than ever.

"At the very least, you will get a dance. I owe you that much, for the help, the invitation, and this lovely dress. Whether or not I will take another's invitation...I suppose that depends. But no matter what, its next to your room that I am returning tonight, Sen.", Cassarah playfully reminded, leaning her belly into her boss' torso to give him a nudge. It may have been only adding fuel to the fire, proving more reason to tease one another, and continue the cycle of half-gropes and impish caresses. And yet, Cassarah couldn't bring herself to be the one to stop, not when it was so very fun, and so very pleasurable to feel another's touch upon her. It was for that reason it had been for the best the elevator ride had been relatively short, allowing them to step out and work towards the venue proper.

"Now then...", Cassarah murmured, a hand sweeping over the small fraction of her belly that was still within her reach. "Shall we make our debut...?"

Some of the halls here are narrow- but being wide enough to support carts at least allows Cassarah to pass, ponderous as it can be sometimes. The trip from the service elevator was only a small detour, but it does have an interesting consequence. Rather than entering the party from where the greeters stand, the pair enter from the heart of the show. Music floats through the room from a live band, low crooning thrums of bass and blues joined by the tinkle of a piano. The interior was lit dimly, a low ceiling that has hanging lights that cast just enough light to move by. Men and women move through the room in low chatter, laughing, drinking. There is a pervasive atmosphere of tension. Guarded smiles and firm handshakes. The battlefield of the expo might be less obvious here, but it is no less hot. There were private alcoves for quiet conversation, an open floor where tables of wine and other drinks stand ready to be plucked. A bar served anyone looking for something more tailored, frequented by a knot of quietly chatting folks. And by the live performers, a wide space has been cleared for dancing. A dozen or so men and women moved through slow, flowing steps to the rhythm- easy, relaxed, fluid.

All that said, Cassarah’s sudden appearance is not without notice. Even in the dim eyes turned then lock onto the prodigious sway of her bust, and the gargantuan swell of her pregnant belly. Sen led the way, his steps easy, his lips pulled in a smug smile. Nobody approached the jaw-dropping pair just yet, though Cassarah recognizes a few faces in the crowd. The music croons, men and women stare, and Sen turns to admire Cassarah as well.

“That neckline certainly has the effect I was after.” He mused in a voice that only she can catch. “Where to?”

"Oh, so all of this was intentional...", Cassarah quipped back, shooting a pointed look towards her own bust, tremendous and prominent as it was. Her chest, which had every right to sag beneath its own weight, had utterly refused to do so, remaining perky and so very, very full. Perched atop her belly, it was front and center to boot, making it all the more difficult for others -particularly men- to maintain eye contact with her. Cassarah, of course, didn't mind. If anyone wanted to get an edge on her, they'd have to do so with clear mind and undiluted focus. She was hardly a stranger to utilizing her figure to her benefit. Pregnancy had only enhanced that talent of hers, in a surprising twist.

"Well, as you might have guessed, alcoholic drinks are out, for me. But I wouldn't mind something to quench my thirst, for now. Especially if we'll be dancing soon enough.", Cassarah remarked, noting all the white-gloved socialites with a wine glass in hand. Although expecting to part ways with Sen briefly, she stayed by his side while the two of them looked for a table to claim for themselves. Each step towards the center of the venue came with another, exaggerated sway of Cassarah's hips, and that many more people looking in her direction.

She could definitely get used to this feeling.

"What can I say? I know how to advertise." He mused, with a pointed glance down into her wobbling cleavage.

One of the many issues with these private alcoves was, frankly, size. It eventually took a suited waiter helping Sen move one of the round table out of the alcove, to allow enough space for Cassarah to seat herself. The cushioned alcove was broad enough to seat herself- and when she did, her distended belly extended out- nearly brushing the floor if only she bent forward a little further than was comfortable. Sen flashed Cassarah a smile, glancing aside to a notable number of men and women beginning to move nearby. Not loitering, but clearly posturing to approach Cassarah once the opportunity arises.

"See? Works like a charm. Be polite, I'll find some drinks for us- and a bite or two if it's available."

With that, Sen slipped away toward the bar. And with her guardian gone, and herself set to receive guests, the first few men approached. She recognizes one of them. A portly older man wearing a tweed suit she knows from the vague shuffle of faces and names that greeted her after the presentation. Javier? Johnson? The other face is much more familiar. Attending to the older man, looking again well out of his element, and staring agape at Cassarah in her sheer dress, stomach on full display.. is Louis. Young, sweet-looking, dressed in a cute suit that she can now see somewhat mirrors his mentor. The older man has colored cheeks from drink, though Louis seems to not be drinking himself- a simple glass of something grape-colored.

".. to see you again, Miss Wilhelm. And in good health, clearly. This- this is Louis, my understudy." The older man gestured, and after a stunned moment- Louis stepped forward with a small nervous nod. "It-it is nice to meet you, Miss Wilhelm." Poor boy can hardly keep his eyes off her cleavage. Sen did his job perhaps too well.

Parting from Sen, Cassarah managed to get herself comfortable, something that wasn't always easy, at her size. Most standard tables simply didn't mesh with such abundant fecundity, forcing her to sit at an awkward, sidelong angle. Here, not only were the booths wide enough for her 'wideness' in back, but had plenty of room in which to position her belly so she could still claim to be actually sitting at the table. Of course, with the table wedged between her chest and her stomach, the former was all the more eye-catching, as if they had been put upon a pedestal. Cassarah only had her point of view and the mirror for reference, but she knew full well by now that each breasts was a good deal larger than her own head, at this point.

With those 'advertising' her presence, it hadn't take long at all for people to start to approach, doubly so as she had been left alone while Sen ventured off for food and drink. Some, she somewhat recognized, those brief acquaintances that had barraged her at the end of her presentation, wanting to introduce themselves and get a foot in the THETA project. Others, she knew far more intimately, as was the case in the literal sense for Louis. He was following in the shadow of a much older, and likely far more influential, man.

"Ah, good to see you again. And Louis, as well. Louis and I had such a riveting discussion, prior to my presentation. You've got quite the understudy there, sir.", Cassarah replied with her practiced, business smile. Only briefly did she shoot a knowing look to Louis, and when the older man had looked away, momentarily lick her lips. That had been a very fun 'meeting'. She further teased the poor boy with a casual nudge of her engorged chest, which sent the meaty mounds wobbling for an absurd amount of time.

"How can I help you two this evening...?"

The taller, stout figure was surprised- then a mixture of delight and something else flashes in his eyes, as he turns toward Louis. “I dare say those lessons are sinking in. Good!” He smiled, and ruffles the younger boys hair. Louis flushed hotly, the ruffling hiding the way he stared agog into the sloshing mounds of Cassarah’s chest. “Yes, yes. He’s a bright young man, but prone to sticking to his books and studies. In the business it’s about who you know, just as much as what. Networking will get you far!” The portly older man has a gleam in his eye as he turned back toward Cassarah. Louis cleared his throat gently, and with visible effort- looked above Cassarah’s tit* to meet her eyes.

“Miss Wilhelm exaggerates. Really, she took me in under her wing more than anything. She was...” His cheeks bloomed with heat, “...S-she was very kind to humor me.”

With marked glee, Cassarah watched Louis' bashful reaction, the two of them knowing much more about the true meaning behind her words than his boss. But she carefully worded her reply to put him in a good light, the least she could do for having been shown a good time. So good, in fact, had she come here herself and not with Sen on her arm, she might have considered asking Louis if he knew any other places where they could 'converse' in private. Instead, she thought about how long it'd likely take for her own boss to return, which fell far short of the time needed for any fooling around...as much as the thought had her thighs rubbing against her belly beneath the table.

"Quite right, meeting the right people leads places. And, don't be so humble, Louis. I definitely enjoyed our time spent together. I've come with my boss here, tonight, perhaps we'll find more time yet to...talk...before the conference is through. How's that sound, Louis?", Cassarah asked, practically promising another round, if she was so fortunate to find the time.

As the coy words only set Louis looking towards his feet, the other gentleman, his eyes were sharper. More appraising, as he turned to study Louis, then Cassarah a little more closely. They were eyes she was used to. The eyes of an investor sensing an opportunity. A vulture finding fresh carrion. He almost licked his lips, if for an entirely different reason. "Yes, Louis in truth spends far too much time fussing and clinging to my coattails. Real business sense isn't learned without practice." Louis, still recovering from the weapons-grade flirtation thrown his way, turned to gape at his tutor. "M-Mr Johan...what do you mean?"

"Miss Wilhelm- take this." Mr. Johan simply stated, extending a silvery card to her. It denoted a company, 'Silverlight Firms', with contact information for one Eulmer Johan, chief investment manager. "If you ever wish to schedule time with my understudy, reach out whenever it pleases you- I or my secretary will happily arrange the details." With that matter handled, the portly man turned to look over one shoulder. "I must be moving on- but, it was a pleasure Miss Wilhelm." The tweed-wearing gentleman started striding off, leaving Louis behind. His cheeks beet-red as he stared up at Cassarah with a mix of embarrassment, irritation, and the occasional flash of distraction whenever her cleavage jostles a little more than usual.

"I-.. I'm sorry for Mr Johan. I would like that though. T-to talk again."

For Cassarah, Johan's enthusiasm made his intent far too evident. He saw Cassarah as an easy mark through Louis, and was all too willing to send his underling out, likely to garner goodwill and insider information on THETA. It was plain as day to the experienced blonde, but as with all things back end and business, none of it spoken aloud. She simply used that practiced smile of hers, and gave an all-too political response that never truly promised everything...with a little extra. Genuinely doting on Louis, Cassarah added an extra step to her by-the-book reply, taking that business card...and sliding it into her cleavage for safety. Nobody could deny there was plenty of room in there.

"Well, if we are so fortunate to find the time, then I will endeavor to make it so. I too, would like to...'talk'.", Cassarah hummed, the business card utterly disappearing between her enormous, milk-engorged breasts. It provided one, last bit of entertainment for the blonde, just as the two were looking ready to move on. Sen was due back at any moment, hopefully with plenty for her to savor. The buffet she had enjoyed so much just before her presentation earlier in the day hadn't been all that long ago, but already, Cassarah's stomach was growling with hunger, and she also felt a particular dryness on her lips, with so many around her indulging in wines and co*cktails.

Fortunately, Sen's return was well-timed. Cassarah's boss came carrying two arm-loads of food-stuffed platters, and a glass better described as a small pitcher, bearing something peach-colored with a straw. Sen returned to her side after she's entertained a couple of guests briefly, and his familiarity drives off the next wave of suitors. He flashed Cassarah a knowing smile, and treated her to the smell of grilled onions, fresh cheese, and warm bread.

"French onion soup- in as large a bowl as they have. And, some bread for dipping. Plus-" He pulled free another platter. Ostensibly for himself, but he pushed the butter-lathered shrimps and steak served on fries towards Cassarah too. "Surf and turf. An old classic. I hope you'll forgive me for snagging a few fries." He winked, finally pushing the pitcher to her. His own glass is a sparkling blue color with a swirl of gold through it, and Sen took a dainty sip.

"For the drink- that's a sparkling grapefruit mocktail. Or, well. Three of them." Sen chuckled. "I trust you fought off the vultures easily enough without me?"

"A vulture and a frightened, if adorable, little bird. But yes, nothing I couldn't handle. So very glad to see you again. You've brought gifts...and you knew just what I wanted.", Cassarah quietly hummed, her genuine amusem*nt, and delight, seeping into a subtle smile. She was hungry. Very hungry, and Sen, without even being asked, had brought back plenty. Where the Cassarah of old couldn't hope to even get through one of these hearty courses, the Cassarah of today, eating for so many, was far more prepared to utterly clean her plate. They were, of course, still within a fancy establishment, so there was no stuffing her face like she had during the eating contest at the carnival. But while Cassarah might have kept the pace at a far more reasonable level, her appetite and motivation to leave nothing left was as strong as ever. Sen barely set down the plates before her enormous bust, before Cassarah began to pick at them from around said chest. At times, it was even more convenient to place a plat atop her breasts, just so there was less distance between her, the utensils, and the food she so wished to eat, washed down with that great pitcher of grapefruit mocktail. Within minutes of starting Cassarah was in heaven. There was just a certain sweetness, particularly in the drink, that she absolutely adored. "Mhm, wondrous. Thank you again, Sen..."

"I've spent the better part of the last month catering to unreasonable requests one after another, Cass. Knowing your appetite is simply par for the course." Sen replied in his half-flirting, half-mocking way as she settled into her feast. Somehow, the food Sen brings her also just tasted...richer. Sweeter. It goes down better, setting off a warmth in her belly that's...almost familiar. Almost. Before long the two meals vanish, leaving two cleaned plates in their wake. Sen then shifted into the booth, settling at her side as she finished her first course. His hands were under the table- something Cassarah learns about as they slid under the sensitive swell of her fertile mound- squishing into the space sandwiched between that vast tummy and her thickened thighs. Teasing, rubbing, inflaming her passions all over again.

"So. Still grumbling for more, or shall I take you for that dance?" He asked, casual as anything, his hands growing faintly bolder. One slid across her hips, around her waist, and settled just below the tables rim. "Or we could simply sit here and...talk a while." An offer dangled between those innocent words. The same offer the hands working her up under the table were making. The one in his eyes.

Whether it was because she was hungry, or Sen knew the subtler parts of her tastes that well, Cassarah's dinner was truly a treat, one that her savoring every bite and sip. There was that odd, if pleasant tingling in her belly, followed by a flush of warmth that had her shifting her considerable weight in her seat. Was it the spices? The contrast between savory and sweetness? Whatever it was, Cassarah couldn't get enough of it. There had been so much food, enough to feed an entire group, and yet, it all disappeared past her soft, full lips all the same. It did not, however, disappear down some black hole further down. All that food had to go somewhere, and that somewhere was her stomach, pushing further and further outward as it took on more and more. The dress had been snug to begin with, but Cassarah was all the more cognizant of just how tight it was really getting when everything Sen had procured had been dealt with. And yet, the woman who had demolished dozens of pies the other day felt she had just a bit more room.

"Perhaps a bit of a refill, and dessert...then we can think about a dance? I don't know what it is, but everything you've brought my way has been so...delicious.", Cassarah replied, slowly running her tongue across her lips. A dance could wait a little longer.

Cheeks faintly warm with his alcohol and from frankly, watching the show- Sen was all too happy to smile in reply. An excited smile. "I'll let the chefs know to keep the kitchens warm. We're here to celebrate, remember? Don't hold yourself back." Those last words are a low murmur, as Sen rubbed low circles into the taut skin of her overstuffed belly. Sinful words, tempting words. That bottomless seeming stomach just kept on gurgling for more. Sen rose with one last fond caress, and departed the table. The vultures returned as if on cue, none commenting on the faint increase to her bulk, hidden as the changes are. They asked about THETA, about Sen, about herself and her employment with Bellegarde. They probed offers for future talks, when they can get their eyes out of her wobbling tit* long enough. Most can. But some do embarrass themselves with the right tempting jostles, and fumble any attempt at an offer.

It's another fifteen minutes before Sen returned again. A half-dozen visits to her table later, the din around her own booth dies down as Sen slid into his seat beside her. Cassarah had time to digest and for her stomach to feel just how much she had ate, yet she was still just as hungry as before. And, just as those rumbles grew audible, Sen revealed that he came bearing another three dishes. A cheese-lathered pasta dish with a drizzle of orange-red sauce. A platter of lobster tails, rich and red with creamy filling. And a dozen stacked slices of oozing, fresh pizza. He carried two platters, and a server carries the platter of pizza- and two more pitchers of drink. One a vibrant strawberry red with a wedge of watermelon, the other a low, subtle tea hue that swirls together- and steamed slightly. She sees bobbing at the top, stewed apples and cinnamon. Sen smiled as the veritable feast was deposited. All so tantalizingly rich-smelling. Sen was all too happy to go back to pressing into her side with a hungry look, cheeks flushed as he has a fresh refill of his own drink.

"Start where you like. And- don't worry if you don't finish. I just thought I'd over-estimate rather than under, this time."

A request for dessert, and perhaps a bit more drink was turned into a second, larger course, all for her. Cassarah had thought to hold herself back, to keep herself from spending the bulk of the evening just eating and making Sen watch her. And yet, when Sen returned with so much more than what she had asked for, it was like he had come back with what she truly wanted. And what he truly wanted to see. All it took was a whiff of those slices of pizza, or those butter-slathered lobster tails, and Cassarah's mouth was watering as much as her stomach was rumbling. She had already needed to widen her stance beneath the table, to gift her belly a bit more room with how much it was distending from her incredible meal, and yet, she found herself digging in with even more enthusiasm than she had the first time around. She did always have a weakness for the classics, burgers and pizza, as much as she could enjoy a good lobster tail. And sure enough, all of this food had that same, familiar richness that she simply couldn't tire of. Warmth flowed in her belly, and Cassarah all-but moaned from the wondrous sensation that radiated out from her core. If only everything she ate could be so incredible.

"Haah...you know me better than I know myself. I guess I wasn't even close to being satisfied...", Cassarah huffed, towards the tail end of that colossal, second course. With pasta dismantled and lobster destroyed, it was but the pizza and the fruity, flavorful drinks that remained, which both were rapidly disappearing by the second. Cassarah finished that second course just as thoroughly as she did the first, and leaned back in her seat, causing her belly to nudge the underside of the table. She couldn't possibly have any more on top of it, could she? Yet, there was a saying about always having room for dessert.

Somehow, each bite is better than the last. That warmth in her core built faintly with each swallow. At the end of the second course, she felt...sated. Sated? Not full. After five full courses, it was a dumbfounding revelation, but her belly does not lie. It didn't help that each plate Sen brings is impossibly delicious, more mouthwatering than anything she's eaten since arriving here on the coast. All the while Sen watched, while nursing his own drink. Helping move the finger-food up to her cleavage for easier access, without being prompted to do so. He smiled at Cassarah as she polished off the last of it. Curious. Expectant. His hands again had found their way under the table, and they stroke her vast, gurgling majesty just out of view. Pampering. Prodding. Helping all that carb-heavy food settle in her core.

"Was that.. enough?" Sen asked her. Coy. Hungry, in a far different way to her. It was reflected in the faint tenting shape just faintly visible through his creamy dress trousers. Clearly, he was happy to serve.

Cassarah wriggled in her seat, thighs stroking the sides of her belly, notably distended from all that she had eaten so far. It wasn't the most...appropriate movement, but there just wasn't getting around how good everything had been, and how good it made her feel. In the span of her first and second course, Cassarah had gone from accepting Sen's below-table rubbing, to downright encouraging it, pushing back against him like an attention-starved cat. Cassarah was anything but starved. If she stopped now, she'd have no complaints. But it all it took was the sight of someone having something decadent and rich, slathered in chocolate for dessert to get the blonde swallowing with envy all over again.

"A-almost. Just need...a bit of dessert. Something sweet. Then...then I think you and I should have a dance...", Cassarah huffed, reaching over to stroke Sen's cheek. Left ignored, was the tightness of her dress, which had gone from simply snug, to worryingly tight as her belly ballooned larger and larger from the food.

Sen smiled a sharp, knowing smile towards Cassarah as he rose, depriving her of his attention for but a while. "Of course. Just a few minutes, then." And, Sen sauntered away towards the kitchens again. Into the crowds. Her display just now has driven off the less dogged suitors, whispers abounding the party about Cassarah. She can't hear much more than the occasional hum of sympathy, and the many looks towards the underside of her table. He was gone for another fifteen minutes. At least it feels that way. Long enough that Cass felt less certain about her own fullness. She was sated, surely. But it was impossible not to think of how delicious dessert could be, from such a high-class venue. Her belly rumbled before she knew it, heightened by the stimulants in each overly stacked dish, pumped into her blood and through her veins. And, just then, her savior returns after those dreadful few minutes alone. Another server followed close by to help him with the dishes. Four, this time. All four creamy, delectable desserts.

A vast New York cheesecake topped with fresh strawberries. A whole cheesecake.

A massive bowl containing an elaborately decorated tower of golden pastry, woven with a web of golden caramel. The tufts of custard from each pastry hint at their contents.

A bowl containing a chocolate brownie that looks about to melt under its own moistness. A massive portion, a slab of pure fudgy chocolate goodness.

And lastly, a tall, glittering glass of swirled golden, pale, creamy liquids. A shake decorated with spun sugar, a dusting of cinnamon, with a wide straw on top to help drink it all.

Sen proudly delivered the assemblage of desserts to Cassarah with a satisfied hum. A challenging glint to his eye as he peered across the table at his date for the night. "It's what they had prepared, when I asked them earlier in the night. I do hope it is enough to sate you, at last." That odd look of his was there again. Faintly knowing. Faintly hungry. His hands were on her belly again almost before she started eating. Stroking. Soothing. Exploring. Kneading. Groping.

Where Cassarah had been mindful of her conduct at the start of the evening, her worries about what others thought of her seemed to fade into the background as she savored those first, two, tremendous meals. Enjoying herself. That was what this whole after party was for, wasn't it? Anyone who insisted on acting stuffy and merely talking business was missing out. It was thoughts like those that filled Cassarah's mind, coupled with her longing for decadent sweetness that she could remember. Just as she had always had a fondness for admittedly greasy foods like double-cheeseburgers, she had always loved sweets, chocolate most of all. Pregnancy had done nothing but amplify that love, fuel it with genuine need for sustenance, and a compelling craving for sugars. So Cassarah's mind had begun to run wild with the possibilities in the time she was kept waiting, fighting hard to not call too much attention to herself. One hand remained above the table, beneath her chin to prop up her head. The other dipped down to stroke her belly, wider and rounder than ever. Fortunately for Cassarah, all that patience paid off. Brownies, a towering, cinnamon-topped shake, a whole cheesecake..and more. Sen had delivered once again, and Cassarah felt a shiver of delight surge up her spine even before she had a single bite of it all.

"Y-yes...I'd say this will do nicely...", Cassarah whispered softly, transfixed at the wondrous, sugary spread before her. The final feast commenced soon thereafter, stuffing that belly of hers with one high-calorie morsel after another.

Sen settled at her side to simply enjoy the show. He leaned inward, and his hands got to work. He refrained from keeping them to just Cassarah's belly. No. His hands go to the meal itself. Slicing a wedge of cheesecake, Sen brings it to Cassarah’s waiting lips himself with a playful smile.

“I’ve seen you struggling to reach the plate all night. Let me take a load off..”

Unlike her, Sen kept the pace steady. Slow, but steady. Bite after savoring bite guided up to her lips. Just slow enough that she still feels hungry, just fast enough to reach her before she gets impatient. Sen fed her. Such an intimate process, interspersed with one-handed belly rubs and pauses whenever Cassarah needs a breath. First the cheesecake. Then, the pastries- stuffed with a delightfully, sinfully silky custard. Then, the lush, rich, decadent chocolate brownies. Finally, the smooth, sweet shake to wash it all down. It was a twenty minute feast by its end. All laced with even more of that irresistible heat, lancing in her veins, making every decadent bite sinfully delicious.

But that poor dress. Skin-tight described it well at the start of the night. Now...it was fighting a losing battle. Given she can feel both the top of the table, and the cool floor beneath.. she’s gotten quite large indeed.

Getting hand-fed was a curious thing. It straddled the line of infantile and intimacy, and it was definitely not the sort of thing that should be done at a fancy party. But welcome it Cassarah did, all the same. She knew better than anyone just how tricky it was to eat around her own, massive chest, which occupied an outlandish amount of the table space directly in front of her. With Sen at her side, she was able to savor twice as much at half the effort...or she would, had Sen not also thought to tease her every step of the way. Nevertheless, Cassarah played along, so very ravenous for this particular brand of sweetness. Those with less tolerance might have grown sick or the unrelenting assault of flavor, or at the very least tired of it along the way. Not Cassarah. She was every bit as eager from the first bite as she was in the last, and carried that zeal to downing that entire tall glass of shake held in her hand. It was all so good, filling her with that wondrous warmth in contrast to the coolness much of it had...she had no regrets.

Other than her belly now bloated to the point of rubbing table underside and floor at the same time. Where she had first thought it merely her imagination, shifting in her seat thoroughly confirmed what sensation already told her. She had grown a lot.

"Aauh...s-so wondrous. Now...now I think I've had enough of that. Still interested in a dance...?", Cassarah asked, doing her best to scoot towards the opposite end of the booth. An abrupt crack, light, yet audible, like a staple being ripped out, halted her in her tracks.

Had that been a seam in her dress...?

"The great Miss Wilhelm, humbled by-"

Sen's wisecrack is cut off by the distinct, thin crack that fills the space between them. His gaze drifts downward, to where the vast majority of her bulk is shielded by the shelf of the table. With a brief look for confirmation at Cassarah, Sen shifts around to the side, then dips down in the shade of their nook to look under the table. A privilege Cassarah can no longer enjoy. She feels his fingers questing the taut fabric of her gown, searching for several long, quiet moments. He sighs.

".. No signs of any fraying or snapped stitches.. at least up front." He smiled somewhat ruefully, but that look is hardly just apology. If anything, Sen's eyes were tinged with pride and satisfaction. He eased a hand toward Cassarah once he again is on his feet. "Come on. I've been waiting for this dance all evening." He murmured with a deliberately husky purr, leaving no mistaking his adoration of her fecundity.

Eyes swayed towards the table as murmurs break out, when Sen begins to gently help Cassarah free of the table and floor both. And the ripple of quiet gasps that followed Cassarah's freedom palpably rolls through the nearby guests at their tables.

With the table securely wedged between her abundant chest and her outlandish belly, Cassarah had been fairly set in place. Not immovable by any means, but far more fixed than was typical for booth seating. It nothing short of pushing the table a few inches away -an act that had the base loudly grinding against the floor- and scooting herself counter-clockwise around the booth's curve, until she was finally freed. Cassarah still mobile, despite how much she had grown in such a relatively short amount of time through her gluttonous binge, took a moment to stretch her back and legs...which really only tested her already-tight dress all the more. There wasn't another crack of a ripped seam, but Cassarah got the unshakable feeling that, should she hold an odd angle for too long, disaster was sure to follow. Already, her engorged chest and tremendous belly jutted out so far, dominating her fame and commanding the attention of anyone who looked her way. Sen more certainly included, even as he did his best to maintain eye contact.

"Ah...the dress...nnh...I am a woman of my word. Let us just...take care. I do not think this dress was ever meant to contain this much...", Cassarah murmured, as she joined his side to advance onto the dance floor. It didn't matter if she was referring to her chest, stomach, or her backside, for all had outstripped whatever the dress had been intended to support and hold back.

His smile widens. "It certainly was not. Oh well. I'll endeavor to do just that. Watch your step, and I'll ensure there aren't any unfortunate collisions." He winked at her. And they advanced. Her bulk parted the crowds of vultures and dragons before them as surely as the seas parted before the staff of Moses. Broken away, spinning, reeling, eyes goggling at the sight that greets them. The dress could hardly be called appropriate now. Drawn so taut, it drew every eye- and though Sen can resist for a few seconds at a time, any faint slosh, rumble, or shift from her hips, chest, or belly caught his straying gaze without fail. He was utterly captivated with her. They arrived on the floor. Sen takes her arm in one hand, and his other wrapped around her waist. Rather than trying to dance opposite- an impossibility, Sen dances at her side. Guiding her where she should step, so their ponderous, beautiful sway through the crowd doesn't bowl anyone over by accident.

All in all, the slender, well-dressed leader is a good dancer with at least some training. He leads without effort, and does much to frame Cassarah's sensual body and swaying motion with his own movements. The croon of the violin and the hum of the adjoining piano inform each step and motion of the ponderous dance, but to every eye on and off the floor- Cassarah is the star.

There would be no high-tempo dances for Cassarah tonight. Just waddling towards the dance floor had made that clear enough. Filled to an absurd capacity in so many places, her figure was more voluptuous, and ponderous, than ever. Cassarah felt the heft of her own belly, swaying before her as her wide, wide hips guided it back and forth upon her pelvis. And every step sent a little ripple of force up her body, one that, while typically minute enough to ignore, ended up jostling her overstuffed bust all the more. She could definitely feel the milk within, stored up over several days and counting, swirling about and making that sloshing noise for anyone that was close enough to her to overhear. Atop a belly bigger than ever, tonight was their greatest encroachment upon her field of view. Even looking straight ahead had Cassarah craning her neck to better peer over those absurd udders of hers.

So it was all the more important she had someone like Sen to guide her. First, it had been arm-in-arm, towards the dance floor. Then, their hands were together, and she followed through on his movements as best she could. The 'dance' itself wasn't anything noteworthy, her figure really only allowed the two to sway and step in time with the music, but Sen's ability to guide so much fertile weight towards something nearing grace was an impressive feat all on its own. It was as if a spotlight had been cast upon Cassarah, in that low-cut dress, barely hanging onto her massive breasts and fair skin gleaming in the light within the venue. All were transfixed, and Cassarah had little choice but to keep her gaze on Sen, just to try and maintain a cool head throughout their tandem steps.

Only, in shifting those luscious, curvy hips of hers again and again, another crack would be heard, a seam lost. Was the damage beginning to mount...?

Cassarah felt it, a few more minutes into the dance. As does Sen. She felt the cold shock of fingers on her bare skin, as they're concluding their dance. Right on her hip, where his arm wrapped around her waist. Sen's fingers had been dancing closer to the line of gentlemanly conduct, slowly sliding down her chair-filling rump- until now, where they find a burst seam, exposing a slice of her broadened flank.

".. Ah." Sen murmured, his fingers staying on that spot to conceal it. He glanced to Cassarah with a light smile. "Well. It seems it's reached the limit." He began to guide her away from the dance floor, from the hall, from the crowd- back towards the entrance and the elevators down.

"Need to slip into the bathroom? Or, shall we make for the hotel with all haste? It feels on the brink of ripping wider, if I am honest." He admitted, his fingers brushing the ruptured stitch-work.

Cassarah nodded slowly, feeling the air upon her now-exposed skin just above her right thigh. "As short as this dance was, this is probably our cue to wrap things up. I feel like if I even try to twist to get a better look at it, I'm going to start ripping the other side, too. Or worse.", Cassarah replied, fighting the urge to assess the damage to sate her curiosity when her dress was already literally falling apart at the seams. "I hear slit-legged dresses are in fashion, but I'm afraid this whole thing might sooner pop off like the halves of a cashew. Let's...call the limousine. Just getting in is bound to make things worse...", Cassarah continued, walking with Sen off the dance floor and back towards the service elevator.

Although the fun was cut short, Sen was still gifted several minutes of walking beside the blonde he had ballooned, fertile belly and milk bust alike pressing against his fine suit, and rubbing against his body. There just wasn't much avoiding it, barring keeping Cassarah at arms' distance. And even the service elevator that they had taken just earlier that evening had looked that much smaller with Cassarah taking up so very much of it. She could stand in one corner, and her belly loomed towards the center, and rounded out, practically demanding others to sidestep around her. Ever since dinner and dessert, it hadn't stopped tingling from within, which left Cassarah feeling unusually restless, even on her way out.

Her portents prove true. Getting her back into the limousine is a whole affair of delicate pushes, tugs, and three fresh pings of snapped seams. But the dress is made of sturdy stuff, and refused to break away. Sen was a comforting presence throughout- smoothly handling the reception, the driver, and the trip back up to his room. His efforts were rewarded by the way they were squeezed together in the hotel lift. But, at last, well after sundown, the pair are back in his penthouse suite. Modern, sleek, stylish. The broad bed fit Cassarah easily. Sen stripped off his suit jacket and loosens his tie with a smile- pacing over to a cabinet where he pours himself a tall drink of something faintly amber-colored. His hair messy on his scalp, his shirt hugging that fit frame, her boss turned to Cassarah with a curious quirk of his brow.

"Anything for you? I have plenty more than booze in the fridge, if you're thirsty."

When Cassarah had left the after party venue, she had been anything but thirsty. So much food and drink had passed her lips, the bloating sensation had been intense, piling atop that curious tingling that was ever a distraction. But in the course of arriving at Sen's suit, which entailed a notable struggle to get in and out of a limousine and back behind closed doors, Cassarah's had worked up a thirst through effort. She swallowed, feeling how dry her throat felt at the moment, and nodded in approval from the foot of Sen's luxuriously large bed.

"A drink...? Y-yes...yes. I think I could go for something cool and refreshing, right about now. Oh, and non-alcoholic, as before.", Cassarah agreed, looking towards the fridge in question, currently closed. What Sen had bothered to stock in his fridge, Cassarah could only guess, but she was in no ways picky. Anything and everything from fresh water to soft drinks sounded so very delightful. So much so, one of her hands drifted down towards that tremendous middle of hers, and gently rubbed it through the fabric of he dress stretched so tightly across it. She couldn't see it for herself, but her navel, popped out from the internal pressure, was well defined with that skintight cover.

Outside of her view, distracted as she is- Sen took a bottle from the fridge, cracking it open with a twist. And, subtly palmed another tablet inside, swirling it in his fingers. He hesitated, the haze of alcohol strong in his mind. He dropped in a second tablet. Sen approached Cassarah with the spiked bottle of soda, a sweet peach iced tea. Easy to drink and sinfully sweet. He presented it to Cassarah, while openly admiring how she's bulging out of her gown in his room.

"All in all, the night's been going better than I'd have hoped. A smashing success at the presentation, a delightful dance and lovely dinner. How are you feeling?"

At the first sip of that drink, Cassarah knows it's one of his. His drinks, his food.. they just taste better than anyone else's. It's almost addictive. The rush of heat in her belly with each gulp, that just makes one want to chase it with another. Sen leaned on the counter with a light smile. Disheveled, relaxed, at ease. Most of the time, that relaxed posture was a facade meant to disarm, or caution foes at the business table. But tonight, Cassarah could see how relaxed her boss truly was. Fully indulgent in his pleasures, openly ogling, sipping his drink, and enjoying her company.

"Aside from nearly splitting this dress in half on the dance floor...pretty good, I'd say. And now that I got a drink..nnh...I'd say I'm doing just fine...", Cassarah exhaled, her tone taken a far more sensual slant to it once she took a great swig of that sweet, sweet drink. No stranger to sodas and teas, it was especially sweet, and had that odd, if familiar aftertaste that was so very much to her liking. It flowed past Cassarah's lips and down her throat, leaving her belly tingling pleasantly for minutes afterwards. She had sat down thinking that she might just have a glass or two of whatever Sen just so happened to have on hand, but from that very first Sip, Cassarah was all-but guzzling the drink, much to her dress' protest.

The garment had already been on the verge of breaking, with seems getting ripped out and two, diamond-shape windows to her hips already present. Drinking more, particularly at the quantity that she helped herself, had that already-immense stomach inch out that much more, and further increase the strain it placed upon her clothes. Halfway through the bottle, Cassarah leaned back to roll her shoulders, and another tear of fabric could be heard, this time on the far end of her stomach, right above her navel. A new hole had been torn right open!

And Cassarah still had so much left to finish.

"Oh, I guess it is true what they say about the food and drink tasting better on vacation...I've never enjoyed this brand this much before..."

Sen chuckled at her comment, seeing her demolishing the first he casually gets a second bottle, similarly spiking it.

"What's this lavish expenditure for if not to make the trivial and normal exotic?" He added, returning to where she's sprawled on the couch, giving that navel a nakedly hungry look. He studied her in her fullness, a hand gliding down to brush up the tight fabric of her dress, feeling the broad curvature of her bloated tum, churning away at all it's been forced to devour this day. "Have you ever wondered just how far you could take this, Cass?" Sen asked, after another sip of his drink. It was rather abrupt, though he doesn't make to apologize for himself. He simply let his gaze wander up to meet hers, that same sultry hunger in his eyes- faintly lidded, with alcohol and lust. He left the newly acquired bottle of melon soda nearby.

Unaware of just how involved Sen had been with her size, current and ongoing, the question comes across as odd, and prompts a tilt of the blonde's lustrous, long-haired head. "How far...? I mean, being so big already, with months left to go still...I have wondered just how huge I might be down the line. I'm already ordering new outfits every other week, it feels like...", Cassarah replied, in somewhat of an unusually casual mood, herself. Although lacking the judgement-smoothing effects of alcohol, that drink, as well as everything she had imbibed earlier, had left Cassarah feeling good. Good, and just a bit needy. Fear of making a fool of herself out on the dance floor had kept much of those thoughts in check before, but within the private quarters of Sen's luxurious suite, Cassarah felt far less inclined to reign herself in. She had been suppressing that warmth that was settling between her legs and radiating out from her oh-so swollen stomach, and saw no reason to continue to do so.

It was on that very note that she reached out and grasped one of her own, tremendous tit*, squeezing the doughy, engorged mound in her fingertips, even as it had become far, far too large to adequately grip with a single hand. Where such pressure would typically prompt a great gush of milk from her inverted nipples, the seals upon them held far better than her dress did, and not a single drop escaped. They were set to continue to swell until the moment they were removed.

"You're just asking that because you like seeing me like this. Well, good news is you got a trimester left to enjoy the show..."

Sen breathed out a laugh at her response, and she owns his eye. She knew what that does- that motion, drawing his sharp irises to every wobble and jostle of her hefty tit. He licked his lips, and his eyes return to their prior target. Even seated on the couch, at this point her belly almost bulges to the point of touching the floor. It's obscene, heavy, and warm. Those fresh meals gurgling away deep within, and that bed of heat roiling at her core. Despite having stuffed more food than she ate at the pie contest into herself over the day.. she doesn't feel those same pangs of fullness. Sen bent closer, and he palmed her other breast for her. One hand, then both rolling the sensitive flesh- a thumb teasing at her poor teat- the perky bud fastened shut by their plugs. Not allowing a drop to escape.

"You're right. That was the reason for the plugs, in a sense." He smiled with satisfaction, letting her tit jostle back into place. Another seam pings off in response.

".. I do like seeing you like this. I like seeing you grow, change.." He finishes his drink with one last gulp, his warm cheeks contrasting his sleek, predatory stalk around her belly. ".. I like seeing you push your limits, too. To find them. I find it fascinating. Erotic. To see you grow, and grow, and grow. A real dream come true." He traced his finger down her belly. Lower, to her popped-out navel, where seams struggle to close over it. He brushed it with a knuckle, fondly. ".. How would you feel about trying to find that limit, Cass? Tonight. Right here.. right now. To just.. see how big you can get."

Cassarah fell silent for a moment, her heart beating in her ears. Her unusual relationship with Sen had sprung from the idea of give-and-take, that she allowed him to get away with far, far more than he ever ought to in exchange for privileges about the workplace. What those transactions were specifically, had changed depending on the circ*mstances, but there was always an element of business behind the whole affair, even when things got steamy. Cassarah, so very much in the mood, and practically inviting Sen to feel her body as much as he liked, still kept that tenet in mind. She had known full well from the moment he had first shown fascination with her pregnant belly that Sen liked the fertile figure. What was new, was learning that he liked to see her grow, and to keep getting bigger. There was plenty of that slated for Cassarah future, no matter what she did. But in the hotel suite, a smile formed on the blonde's face when she got the sense she had just gained another means to get what she wanted.

"That so? Makes sense why you asked for such large portions. Funny enough, I feel like I still have room. Maybe I could be talked into having more, if it all tastes as good as it has.You wouldn't happen to say, know a way of lessening my workload once we return to the office, would you? Carrying all this, only getting bigger by the day can get exhausting...", Cassarah sighed, playing up the burden of her enormous pregnancy well past how it actually felt. She was all-too ready to strike another deal in exchange for eating and drinking as much as Sen pushed to her lips tonight.

That familiar sharpness returned to the hawkish businessman’s gaze, the prospect of a deal cutting through the haze of alcohol and lust just slightly. All while fingering her swollen belly button, halfway to palming one breast- he regards her face, calculating, thinking.

“In return for.. at least a bi-weekly session of.. 'limit-testing'. I’ll ensure that Cassidy from your department picks up the slack brought on by your...building fatigue, and needs as a pregnant woman.” He said at last. With that, he takes the second large bottle of melon soda- offering it to her. Swirling within, the dissolved tablet spiking the mix- the innocent seeming soda just another fuel for the furnace within Cassarah.

“Do we have a deal..?”

Cassarah made her intent known not with words, but action, taking the offered soda, bringing it to her lips, and making a show of guzzling it, right in front of Sen. She tilt her head back like a college grad and simply chugged, gulping down more and more of the unwittingly spiked brew, and leaving more and more of the once-sizeable bottle empty. Whereas Cassarah had taken her time with the earlier bottles, sipping at her leisure, that bottle didn't leave her full lips until its contents were emptied in their entirety, churning with the rest in Cassarah's colossal stomach. Adding to the display, was her free hand, rubbing what she could still reach on the side of her belly in large circles. It all went down just as wondrously as all that had come before it.

"How's that for a deal, Sen?", Cassarah asked, passing the emptied container back into his hands. She wiped a trace amount off of her mouth, and looked to her stomach, rounder and more tingly than ever.

Another snap. The seam across her navel widened with a sharp twang of overtaxed fabric. Sen shows his appreciation through actions too, by leaning down to palm the exposed sliver of skin, fingers grazing it. Then, he turned to the fridge and marches. When he returned, it’s with two tubs of ice cream, another bottle of soda, and a green box, which when opened reveals a mid-sized cheesecake with a passionfruit glaze.

“Let’s see you ruin that dress.” Sen murmured in a low voice, as if issuing a command. He doesn’t need to shout to share just how riled up he is. She could palm his suit trousers to find the shape of his firm co*ck, if she really wanted to. His sweaty brow, disheveled hair, and lust-drunk eyes do most the communicating anyway. “I’m going to check if the kitchens are still running.” The words are curt. Not with anger, but with purpose, as Sen whips out his phone to make a call.

Cassarah couldn't see past her chest and stomach to spy the tear that had widened, but she didn't need to. The cool air from the vent above gracing her bare skin was more than enough to tell her that she was exposed. Her stomach, bloating larger, had really begun to tear at the dress, and Sen had declared he wished to see it broken. An odd, desire-laced request, but one that Cassarah was willing to fulfill, doubly so when she, against all odds, still felt like she could eat even more. Two bottles of sweet, sweet drink, and there was still a sort of emptiness in her left the prospect of having ice cream and -more soda- all the more appealing.

"You do that, Sen. In the meanwhile, I think I'll get to work on these, right now.", Cassarah hummed, licking her lips as she took a large spoon in which to dig in. Sen barely got to dial the number on the kitchen before Cassarah was doing her best to fulfill her end of the bargain, scooping out great chunks of ice cream, and washing it all down with soda.

And thus, her gurgling belly grew anew.

A cheesecake. Re-warmed muffins. Another tub of mint ice cream. Another bottle. The food starts to blur as Sen made calls. And each meal, even as it taxes her, fills her, is more delicious. More warm, especially the ones that arrived on a cart wheeled in by a tired, then flabbergasted employee of the hotel. Sen nearly shoved him out with a wad of cash and a snap to hurry, before bringing the cart of fresh apple pies, pastries, tempered chocolate, fudge, and other delights to her side. A whole jug of thick hot chocolate joined the ensemble, and Sen laid it all out for Cassarah. Dish by dish seams ping, gaps widen, and the poor dress is demolished. It withstands much, every incredible inch she adds to her own overwhelming girth. By now the roiling, noisy swell is resting on the floor- burdened by its own over glutted weight, groaning noisily. Two seams pinged, erupting along her side, allowing a massive slab of belly-flesh to erupt out into open air. The dress was on its last legs, and the dishes are still just as delicious. The knot of heat roils in her belly, throbbing with her heartbeat, building with every meal, refusing to leave her sated. It was so similar to the tingling in her belly she gets from every time a partner breeds her, yet subtly different.

Sen was flushed, both hands rubbing her belly as she continues to eat. "Any pain? Are we close?" He asked, in a tone almost urgent- were his eyes not lidded and his tongue not licking his lips with arousal.

So much food and drink, all atop courses and meals that hadn't even digested yet. Cassarah was fated to feel bloated and uncomfortably full eventually, and as vacuous as her stomach had appeared at the start of it all, she ultimately had met her match and had to tap out. It had only after she had thrust each and every pastry and treat past her lips, and gulped down soda and hot chocolate alike, leaving little beyond crumbs and empty bottles in her way. Cassarah's belly, stuffed to the extreme, had pushed out considerably, and remained impeccably taut and round. Sen, in all his fondness for Cassarah's middle, could feel, firsthand, just how unyielding it had become in its super-stuffed state. That was not even addressing the matter of size, where Cassarah's seated position at the foot of Sen's bed could now have her belly rest against the ground. But not content to let things off with a whimper, Cassarah does the last thing she could do without eating anything more. She exhaled, holding nothing back.

At that very moment, the dress, torn in so many places, ripped apart, practically in half, leaving little more than tattered rags clinging to Cassarah's absurdly luscious figure. They were soon brushed aside as Cassarah unveiled herself for Sen. One hunger had been so very sated. Another, between her legs, on the other hand, remained. And yet, Cassarah held back, so stuffed, that she could hardly think of anything beyond just lying down and sleeping off her meal.

"Nnh...I'd say...I can't do more than that, today. Feel so very...urp...full. Mind helping me into something so I can waddle back to my room...?"

Sen simply stared for several long moments, awed, sated, and finally satisfied. He nodded faintly. "I have some bed sheets that might make you decent." He added with a faint, dry chuckle. Whatever her state, it was clear that Sen is a world away after that particular demonstration. He slipped to the side to search, eventually pulling out several large billowing, fluffy duvets. They almost look like a dressing gown, wrapped around Cassarah's own absurdly fecund body.

"I'll have to call in a tailor tomorrow. Get your new measurements, so we can at least try have something to cover you for the end of the presentation." He noted, his hands absently kneading her belly. Rubbing it, rolling it, helping to soothe any discomfort from her absurd fullness. "Or...you could sleep here, if you like. I won't try anything, I'll take the couch. It's not a long walk, but.. you look likely to collapse if you're left alone too long."

Cassarah, mentally preparing herself to make that short walk back to her room, nevertheless relented. She had been seated on Sen's bed, already, and the tremendous, luxurious thing that it was had been so very inviting before she had been stuffed to the gills. Now feeling the sluggish after-effects of binging like a bear before hibernation, she had begun to hear the siren call of those pillows calling her name. She pushed herself further onto the mattress, belly dragging up against the bed as it was hoisted, until she was entirely upon its downy embrace. There, Cassarah simply rolled over, enormous belly pulsing with her steady breathing, and rising high above the rest of her, even while on her side."Y'know, I think...I think I'll take you up on that. Spare myself...nnh...passing somebody in the hallway...", Cassarah agreed, giving her belly an affectionate pat, as it began to feel particularly active from within. All those children, far, far more than she could ever imagine carrying, feeding on the greatest load of calories in one even that they had ever seen. It was a downright celebration in Cassarah's womb, indicated by the rippling and shaking of that belly that took up the majority of a king-size mattress all on its own.

"So tight...but...at least the little ones are happy. I think...I think I'll get some rest, now.."

And with that, Cassarah fell asleep far too easily, allowing her many meals to digest...and unknowingly let all those fertility-boosting additives to better seep in.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

The next morning, a comprehensive breakfast is ready for Cassarah when she wakes- alongside a note from Sen. He was not present when she finally roused, the note states simply that he's going to be busy all day and the next meeting with investors. But, it does say she's not needed until the day after tomorrow, so she can enjoy the next two days off. The serving staff leave the small buffet of breakfast food in the lounge, before giving Cassarah space and privacy to prepare for the day. There's a little more than a week left in her working holiday here on the sunny coast, and the day is hers to spend as she sees fit. The weather is bright and sunny, the sunniest it's been so far. People are out and about in the streets, enjoying the beaches, surfing the coast, and visiting all the attractions and tourist traps to be found.

That crooning voice, soft, inviting, is the picture of an ideal broodmare. And, in many ways that is the truth. As countless thousands of embryos grow within that swollen belly, added to with every load of spunk- her hips shake in just the right way to draw in another prospective mate. And, as that nervous stallion mounts her skittishly, that hesitation begins to melt as that obscenely swollen stallion co*ck stuffs her. It's a little shorter than the rest, but more pleasurable. Not for the shape or size, but for that hesitation. It plunges in slower, more careful, and when the beast rocks to begin thrusting, there are no painful hunches or slams of muscle ramming into her rear. She can even get into the fun herself, rolling her hips to entice that animal, to excite it. The rutting grows more bold, more fast, lasting significantly longer than her other trysts- and Cassarah feels that telltale swelling up within her insides, knows to clamp down and squeeze. And at last, the last stallion gives up its virile seed to her greedy womb to process, a tidal wave of zebra spunk, pent up from watching for so long and from the slow mating, her womb is inundated with zebra spunk. It gurgles, sloshing noisily within her and setting her babies to kick with ripples across her belly. And, those fireworks emerge one last time, striking her as the last zebra pulls away. It affectionately nickers and rubs against her side, that cold nose nuzzling into her belly. It stays by her as those leg-shaking aftereffects of her eggs being bred rock her body. At last, she can move, her legs strong enough to lift that cum-fattened, bloated belly off the ground. There is a tap to rinse her legs and clean of the leftover cum, and a couple of towels- clean, fortunately, coarse and likely meant for the zebras. But, they'll do to clean up before she flees. That last zebra is hard to coax back into its pen- it keeps nuzzling her belly, licking it, rubbing against it, nuzzling her curiously with wide, doe-like eyes. It seems quite infatuated with the obscenely curvy blonde. But, it can eventually be cajoled back to it's pen after leaving a glistening sheen on her belly from the affectionate licks and nuzzles all over.

All the while, her belly still tingles. That last zebra pumped an absolute load into her greedy womb- and the aftershocks and tingles of her obscene fertilization are still throbbing even now, occasionally sending shivers of pleasure through her gurgling gut.

It wasn't long before Cassarah had come across the lions. Zoos tended to group animals together by animal order and geographical habitat. African Zebras weren't all that far from African lions and other Savannah creatures. The entire way over, Cassarah was left with that oh-so delightful sensation deep within her womb, a sensation that prompted to rub her enormous belly with pride as she waddled forth. Being with the Zebra stallions had felt so good. She just couldn't bring herself to stop at just them. A glance to the Lion enclosure showed that one of those big, maned cats were already looking her way. One, the largest and oldest among them, appeared to be their leader, their alpha. The others, given what Cassarah knew of lion hierarchy, and their lack of manes were likely the alpha's own mates and offspring. A faint smile formed on Cassarah lips as she circled around, utilizing the keys she stored in between her breasts to gain entry to the Lion enclosure. Never had she imagined there would be a day where she could technically counter herself among a lion's harem.

And for such a long, and faintly painful experience with the lions co*ck.. the sense of blissful heat that billows through her belly in shuddering, impossible waves.. it's incomparable. The senior lion certainly knows how to breed properly, as proven as more than two-hundred new lions are stuffed into her overfilled, pulsing, greedy and eager womb, to gestate and grow within.

A mottled mix of furs between pale silver, grey, and dark black paints the hides of the wolves. They provide excellent cover when they prowl through the shade- but out on the rocks, or when they break from the trees to pace easily along the wire fence alongside Cassarah, the majestic beasts are quite visible. And they are certainly not dogs. For one, they stand at nearly hip-height to Cassarah, loping along, intimidatingly larger than any hounds she's been with before. Their shaggy fur catches the fading sun, glinting in it as the animals flit in and out of shade, their sharp eyes glinting in the growing gloom. Their snouts have a significantly different shape as well, more triangular, longer than most hounds. The gate presents itself on the west side of the enclosure. A familiar lock resting against it, holding it closed. And beyond, she sees three long, majestic, dangerous animals resting amongst the gloom. Two are mottled grey, and one darker again. Waiting, resting on their haunches. The greys have their tongues lolled out, panting faintly as their hunters eyes study Cassarah. Curious. Hungry. Wary, all at once.