Political, Part 5

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Summary: A politician's scandal about a pregnant mistress breaks shortly after passing some misogynistic legislation. He soon finds a new mistress however their first date ends very unexpectedly. After a period where he can't figure out why he is constantly either stuffing his face or nauseous it occurs to him that his swelling chest, new potbelly, and widening hips may be more than just some stress-eating. Due to his legislation he is stuck carrying but once he starts to campaign for re-election something interesting happens. Despite his growing disgust with his radically changing body the bigger he grows and the rounder he gets the better he polls. Contains: Feminization, Mpreg, Weight gain. Idea by will taft.

Previous Chapter

-

Justin started sleeping in his office.

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before – when he was fighting with Nora.

But now there was no fight, and no excuse, except for his insistence that work was busy. Which it was. But for once, they weren’t fighting, and he wasn’t cheating, and yet he still looked bad. He was avoiding his family, Nora was furious, and people were starting to notice. The last thing Justin needed was for his self-confinement in his office to become a public controversy, but then, it would probably be the least of his problems.

Justin shifted, his office couch uncomfortably firm beneath his body.

He was wearing sweatpants and a tank top that was getting unnervingly tight on him. Even with the distraction of work and the campaign, he was absolutely obsessed with his changes. He was constantly paranoid that people were starting to notice what was going on beneath his clothing. It was a preoccupation. He found it difficult to focus on anything else. But then his hands would roam unreservedly, no longer afraid to confront it. Because this was happening. He would confront the firm, full mound of his belly, registering that human lives were packed firmly inside of it, and growing quickly. Terrifyingly fast. And he could do nothing. A mere incubator as his body warped in the most embarrassing of ways. Growing plump and round as though to broadcast that he had taken it up the ass. Swelling and breeding as he turned into the antithesis of what any man should be.

He continued to squirm, sleep proving more difficult the more things progressed. There were bouts of denial, because this just couldn’t be happening. And then there were other things. His hands wandered up, palming his chest, which was getting more tender by the day. And he didn’t stop himself. He allowed his fingers to massage as he groaned, his cock stirring and his face heating. He thought of all the ways Nora had been more sensitive each time she had been pregnant with their five kids. Now it was happening to him. The small hills on his chest getting softer and fuller, in…in preparation. Hell no. The thought disgusted him. But what else? With this swirling mixture of pleasure and revulsion, his fingers continued to work, squeezing his achy nipples as his thighs shuddered. But this could spiral. He could make them bigger, like he had with Nora, massaging and teasing them until she could no longer fit in her bra cups. And then the milk would come. The thought of himself lactating was completely disgusting. Yet for some reason a spasm of pleasure shot through his core. Justin, with tits. He would be a laughing stock. People would throw up. He already had breasts—little ones—but if they grew—oh god. He would have to go into hiding. Justin, the governor, speaking at events with a fat rack bouncing on his chest.

He came unexpectedly, his thoughts going white as his abdominal muscles tightened around the intrusive heap, squeezing into it. Justin slumped back, gasping.

He stared at the ceiling. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he wondered aloud.

Silence answered, as he lay there, catching his breath, and reflecting on the fact that he had gotten off with just disturbed thoughts, nipple stimulation, and a freak pregnancy.

His belly rose and fell as he cupped it again, his smooth skin exposed where his tank top had been pushed up over the mound.

Even with the cooling mess he had made of himself, he was just so fucking tired. His eyelids sank, and he fell asleep.

-

“Mr. Foster, are you in there?”

Justin awoke to Teresa’s sharp rapping on his office door, for the third morning in a row.

He glanced at the clock and hissed a curse, shoving himself upright. It took a surprising amount of effort and it would only get worse. He gulped. “Just give me ten minutes!”

Justin got up and headed into his office bathroom, where he had left a change of clothes. As he hastily cleaned himself up and got dressed, he noticed that his nipples were still hard and erect. They wouldn’t seem to relax.

He finished dressing himself, but he could still see the nubs bulging against his shirt in a way that was just weird and unnatural for a man. Especially considering the fact that his nipples had gotten bigger in recent weeks. Now they look more like a woman’s.

Cursing again, he grabbed a couple tissues out of a canister on the counter and folded them into neat squares. He tucked one into his shirt against each of his nipples, to soften things, though the tissues were liable to shift throughout the day. He supposed he would deal with that later.

Sighing as he considered how fucked up his life was, Justin fidgeted with his shirt and walked out of the bathroom.

He tried to fast that day.

Justin thought it prudent, considering how rapidly he was putting on weight. If it weren’t for his compression vest and oversized blazer, people would have thought he had a tumor or something.

He made it all away to 4 PM, but then left the office early, citing “a headache,” which, in hindsight, was a very pregnant thing to say. He indeed did feel unwell, just not in his head.

“Oh god,” he breathed, four triple-cheeseburgers in as he sat in his car in the parking lot of the local fast food joint. The fasting had backfired. His appetite was even more voracious. Even as Justin thought this, he reached back into the grease-stained paper bag, pulling out a twelve-piece nuggets, and the four large orders of fries that had accompanied his order of four burgers. He started stuffing the fried finger-foods into his mouth with none of his usual etiquette. He just felt so hungry; practically in pain. He was flushed and sweaty, and could hardly see straight, he just needed to eat, to pack himself with calories.

It was a decadent haze, and hardly seemed to last an instant. When Justin came out of it, the rest of the food was gone — even the four extra-large chocolate caramel cookie-crumble milkshakes which proved some unholy combination of creamy and greasy while still being painfully sweet. Justin found himself sitting in his car, clutching his belly while gasping for breath, the swell feeing outrageously firm. Packed tight by his insane food binge. It gurgled as he groaned. It practically felt as though it was throbbing. His efforts to abstain had clearly backfired.

The bluetooth in his car released an annoying jingle. Justin took a glance at the panel, unsurprised that it was yet another call from his wife. He inhaled deeply, and picked up the call. “Yeah?”

“You said you were coming home tonight,” Nora was tempered but he could tell she was furious.

“I’m on my way,” he responded evenly. “I was just—”

“Working late again?” There was a subtle mocking in her tone.

Justin gritted his teeth, his own temper rising. He was so uncomfortable, his eyes were tearing, his abdomen heaving as he breathed heavily, his muscles trying to yield to the force beneath them. His stomach felt like a tight drum, straining and stretching against its pressurized contents.

His belly chose that moment to release an absurdly loud gurgle.

“What was that?” Nora asked, puzzlement replacing her aggravation.

“It was just—” he gasped out, thinking fast, “—just the car making weird noises again. I have to go.”

“Maybe you should call a—”

Justin hung up before his body could betray him anymore. Then he leaned back, holding his head with one hand and his belly with the other, breathing evenly, trying to get his body to relax. Waiting for the food to digest just a little more. For the ten millionth time, Justin wondered what the hell he’d done to himself.

When he got home, he was back in his compression vest and baggy blazer. He knew he looked sloppy, but his hoard of sycophants at the office tended not to mention it.

“You look awful,” Nora mentioned the moment she saw him.

“Thanks.” He kissed her cheek.

“Well, you made it in time for dinner.”

His belly gurgled just at the mention of it, and he thought he was going to be sick. Fortunately, only a belch erupted from his throat. “Great,” he managed as Nora wrinkled her nose at him.

Two of the kids whizzed around them before darting into the living room. Justin still felt too disoriented to register which kids, specifically.

“We’re trying to eat a little healthier, as a family,” Nora went on pointedly.

“Daddy’s getting fat!” Jack chanted as Chloe squealed in laughter. “Daddy’s getting fat!”

Justin’s left eye twitched.

As always, the house felt like chaos. Kids yelling and fighting, toys strewn across the floor. Justin’s mind was reeling as he took inventory of his family. He already had five kids, and now three more on the way. No, four on the way. He thought of Sarah, wincing. There was no way he could integrate them all. That would be ridiculous. No, he had to keep hiding the ones inside of him, and figure out how to get rid of them before anyone found out.

…the prospect didn’t seem hopeful, given the rate he was growing. If this pregnancy had been more subtle, he could probably keep it secret. But as Justin glanced down at himself, he knew someone was bound to notice he was turning into a blimp.

When the family sat down for dinner, Justin gave a grimace of a smile, and stuffed down more food on top of the burgers, fries, nuggets, and milkshakes. Thankfully, the meal was on the lighter side. He still felt painfully stuffed, his stomach feeling like it might rupture.

After all the kids had gone to bed, and Justin and Nora retired to their bedroom, things were awkwardly silent. As Nora got ready for bed, Justin pretended to fiddle with his watch, trying to figure out how he would go about changing.

“What’s going on with you?” The shock of Nora’s hand touching his waist made him jerk back. She looked hurt. “Are you cheating again?”

“No,” Justin responded, honestly.

Nora looked doubtful. “You continue to make a fool of me. What the hell are we even doing?”

“Nora, you can’t keep holding this against m—”

“I have news,” she cut him off bitterly.

Justin didn’t have the energy for a fight. “Can we discuss this in the morning?” He would defer it as long as possible, and maybe avoid it entirely. He did love his wife, but he knew they didn’t fit together anymore. But staying married was easier than the alternative.

“I’m pregnant.”

Justin’s body froze. Nora scoffed at his reaction, before reaching into a dresser drawer and pulling out a large photo. Her sonogram.

His brain felt like it was malfunctioning. This was the most ironic, most insane, most fucked up scenario. Just when he had thought his life couldn’t get any worse, Nora was—what the fuck!?

Yet he had to hold it together. “Oh,” was all that came out of his mouth, and he managed to hug her. Gently. She huffed into his shoulder.

“Sit down,” he said robotically as he pulled away. “You shouldn’t be on your feet. I’ll — get you a glass of water.” He just needed time to think. He had defaulted to catering to her, trying to make her comfortable, when ironically, he was far more pregnant than she was, stuffed into a compression vest with an overfilled gut, and felt like he might burst.

There was too much going on. Justin just made sure to breathe as he went down the stairs, gripping the banister tightly. And he abided his duties. Retrieved her water. Told Nora he was happy. Kissed her head and said he loved her.

He spent some time at his home office, staring blankly at the computer screen, feeling exhausted but too restless to sleep. Eventually he stripped to his boxers and changed into a baggy night shirt, with his compression vest still on beneath it. When he got into the bed, Nora instantly leaned into him in her sleep.

Hours passed, and he wasn’t getting any rest. The vest was too tight, and he was just too uncomfortable. It was around 3 AM that he tried to get up, but Nora stirred, and he froze again. This happened during all his subsequent attempts to get up until he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat up and stood.

“Where are you going?” Nora asked him blearily.

“Bathroom,” he assured her, knowing that it would strike her as odd. He typically slept like a rock and scarcely got up. “Go back to sleep.” With that, he lumbered off.

Justin was sweating as he closed the bathroom door behind him, an unexpected whimper escaping his throat. He dragged himself to the sink, feeling close to tears, like he could hardly breathe. His hands hurriedly gripped the end of the compression vest, dragging it up. He gave a wheeze as his belly shoved outwards. He gripped the counter, gasping.