“...Long-lasting…. Yes, it should work for months with a single dose… Ideal for women of childbearing age… Just needs the strength per dose to be toned down…”



“Oh my god, how long is he gonna be on that stupid call?” Jennifer “Jenny” Pritz pouted her plump lips from the next room over, hearing bits and pieces of her husband’s business call as she idly twirled her empty glass of wine, milling around their mansion while she waited for him to be done with his boring business stuff. Her long blonde hair spilled down her shoulders left bare by her extremely low-necked and short-skirted evening dress, completed by her perfect hourglass figure and deep bronze skin perfected by long sessions of lounging by their poolside. Jenny was the very image of a trophy wife, something she was very proud of perfecting almost as much as she was proud of her natural DD-cups. Unfortunately, she couldn’t put any of her best features to good work if he didn’t get off that damn call!

Jenny liked to consider herself an ideal wife in an ideal relationship. He had married her for her stunning beauty and body that most porn stars would be jealous of, and she in turn had married him for his position at the top of the business totem pole and seemingly bottomless pockets. The two knew exactly where they stood, and the fact that they got along pretty well in their mutual shallowness was just a bonus. They made such a good couple you’d almost think they married for love.

Unfortunately, John being stuck on his phone call instead of attending to his bombshell wife meant that she couldn’t fulfill her half of the social contract, and that just wouldn’t do. And so she was stuck spinning her wheels, grinding her high heels into the checkerboard marble tiles, and preoccupying herself with getting another drink.

She was teetering around the living room table with a half-empty bottle of wine when she noticed an unlabelled bottle of pills had fallen out of his coat after being thrown over the sofa, and in her bored curiosity picked them up. They kind of reminded her of her birth control pills, of which she was almost out of, come to think of it…

Rhythmically tapping on the lid with her long, varnished nails, Jenny’s painted lips curled into a devious smile, recalling his conversation. Long-lasting… works for months with a single dose… ideal for women of childbearing age… Oh, that card! No wonder he’d brought it home with him! It was obvious that it was that new birth control pill his company had been working on! She’d heard him mention it a while ago amongst some other products they were developing, not that she’d been paying much attention to all that boring stuff.

Without much thought, both due to her naturally dim brain that was used to letting her boobs do the talking and unused to any real consequences from her actions and ushered along by the alcohol in her system, Jenny popped one of the pills, then another just to be safe. She greedily licked her lips as she sauntered off to find her husband, figuring he was probably done by now. Tonight they wouldn’t need a condom…

–

If you had asked Jenny if she wanted kids, and if so how many, she likely would have answered that she wasn’t looking to have any for another few years, but if she did her ideal number would be three, maybe a fourth down the line if she got lonely once they were in school. At no point would her answer have been “somewhere between twenty and twenty-five at once”, courtesy of an extremely strong experimental fertility drug she’d thoughtlessly downed and then had unprotected sex with her husband. In her defence, it had been really good unprotected sex, for what it was worth.

Jenny groaned as she cradled her enormous belly in her hands, contained by an ill-fitting pink dress that rode up at the front and was almost skin-tight at the back, demonstrating that her bubble butt had gotten even bigger as a result of her pregnancy. But no matter how much her hips widened and her butt bloated, it was huge gigantic belly that looked like she was carrying at least ten babies at full-term only four and a half months into her pregnancy, Jenny fully expecting to spend most of her third trimester pinned to her bed. After being fertilised to such an extreme degree it had been a matter of weeks before Jenny started showing, and although she had initially panicked that she was getting fat, looking nine months pregnant by the end of her first month had been more than enough to convince the two that it was more than just a pot belly.

Jenny had taken the news poorly, mostly for the potential impact on her figure, while her husband had taken it surprisingly well. He’d come from a rather large family and had four brothers and five sisters, and had been fully intending to bring her around on the idea of having many children. In this eyes it had simply expedited the process, and they were more than wealthy enough to support such an immense brood. Jenny had been less receptive to the idea, but unfortunately she hadn’t had a comeback to him saying that she didn’t have anything better to do, and had been complaining about being bored all the time anyway.

And so here she was, feeling exhausted just trying to walk from her bedroom to the kitchen for another snack as she’d been hit by intense cravings, having too much pride to ask her maid to fetch it for her and fixated on the idea of trying to remain in shape one way or another to assure a swift recovery from any baby weight she put on in the line of duty. And so she waddled to the main stairs with a belly she would only just barely reach the end of with her arms fully extended, taking very careful steps down with one hand in a death grip on the rail. She took slow, deliberate steps that caused her body to rock with each level down, her bloated, milky breasts that had swollen to G-cups bouncing erotically as her nipples poked through the thin fabric of her dress. She was almost panting by the time she reached the bottom, doubled over with her belly nearly brushing against the ground as she wiped sweat from her forehead. This definitely counted as her exercise for the day, she thought to herself even though any possible weight she could have put on from her ravenous appetite went purely into fuelling her belly and frequently lactating breasts.

Now that she was down, she had the task of actually making it to the kitchen.

“Why did we have to buy this stupidly huge mansion!? Whose idea was this, anyway?” Jenny panted despite being the one who insisted that they get the largest house possible, obsessed with the biggest show of material wealth with the bonus of it being great for her frequent parties. Now she moved across it at one fifth of her usual speed and wasn’t up for throwing any parties, at least not unless all of her socialite friends got pregnant as well so she couldn’t be jealous of them having more fun than her. Preferably also with at least ten babies each.

She was rapidly running out of energy as she made her way down the narrow hallway with barely any room to manoeuvre due to the various decorations flanking her, legs starting to wobble as she considered leaning on a wall for a rest. Perhaps due to her wildly fluctuating emotions, she suddenly decided that this was all far too much effort.

“Oh, screw this!” Jenny complained. “It’s too long! I’m too big! These stupid babies are too heavy! My feet hurt! I’m going back to bed!”

Despite being most of the way there already Jenny impulsively turned around, her belly swinging like a battering ram across the narrow hallway and, inevitably, colliding with one of the decorations. Jenny gasped as she felt her belly hit an extremely expensive pot and knock it to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces as her husband’s wallet silently screamed out in terror.

Jenny was wide-eyed, her hands over her mouth for a moment as she initially panicked, before her natural sense of entitlement kicked in to absolve her of sin. Well, it was an ugly pot anyway. It probably wasn’t that expensive, they could probably find another. It had it coming for being in her way. Her husband was the one who got it, not her, so it was his responsibility. And it was his fault for making her this big in the first place!

Therefore, as always, it wasn’t her fault. However, something still had to be done for it, and Jenny’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Emma! Emma, where are you! Get over here!



“Coming, ma’am!”

A short maid in full French maid getup with her dark brown hair done up in a tight bun scurried down the hallway, a dustpan and broom already in hand as she’d heard the pot shatter from across the house. They’d naturally always had a cleaning staff, but with Jenny becoming increasingly less mobile they’d decided to hire a maidservant to tend to her needs, who dutifully hurried to prepare meals (mostly snacks) and help her mistress get dressed while her husband was at work.

The anachronistic getup was chosen for three reasons: the first was that both Emma and Jenny admitted it was extremely cute. The second was that Jenny was bored, and figured that it would liven things up a bit to play dress-up with her maid. The third was that Emma, although a head and a half shorter than the naturally tall and leggy blonde Jenny, had a killer body and a cute face that even Jenny admired, and the conservative outfit helped conceal that, as Jenny had become increasingly insecure about her ability to keep her husband’s attention the bigger her belly got.

“Emma! Clean that up before my husband gets home.” Jenny huffed. “He won’t notice it’s gone anyway. And if he does, I’ll just have to apologise to him about it.”



Emma blushed as she watched her unconsciously lick her lips in anticipation, averting her gaze and getting down to clean up her mistress’s mess

“It’s such a shame, I did like that pot…” Emma sighed as she gathered up the pieces. “You know that your husband told you to be more careful at your size, Ma’am. What if you hurt the babies?”



“I didn’t hit it that hard. And if you liked it so much you should have bought it yourself!” Jenny said, unable to hide the guilt in her voice even as she convinced herself that she was absolved of responsibility. “It shouldn’t be that hard to glue back together anyway, right? If you’re willing to put in the hard work, I’ll let you have it.”



“I’ll be sure to think about it, ma’am.” Emma giggled, leaving Jenny confused. She thought it was a pretty generous offer…

“Oh dear!”



“What is it?” Jenny asked, looking down on the kneeling Emma who had finished sweeping up the pieces and was looking up at her… or at least she thought she was, she couldn’t really see past her own belly.

“That dress is too short! Or rather, you’re too big for it, at least at the front. The bottom of your belly is sticking out.”



“Ugh, seriously? I just got this last week! I swear, these stupid growth spurts…” Jenny pouted, then instantly brightened up. “Emma, get the measuring tape! I’m having a friend over this tomorrow afternoon and I won’t be seen dead in these rags.”

“But what about the blue one you got the other day?”



“What about it?” Jenny said as if daring her to challenge her. “That’s an outdoors dress, we’ll be staying inside! And it’s not a blue one, it’s an official custom-tailored Ferdinand dress! Besides, it’ll probably be too small by then at the rate I’m going. I’m a growing girl!”

“Are you sure, ma’am?” Emma couldn’t help but feel sorry for her husband, and decided to see if she could salvage the situation. Jenny’s greatest hobby was spending her husband’s money, and her passion for ludicrously expensive dresses and the tailoring they needed to fit her unique figure was burning a hole in his pocket

“Oh dear. I thought you got that dress last week.” Emma chanced being informed that actually this was a completely different dress than the one she was thinking of, made by a brand that cost half a year of her salary to afford.”

As if on cue, there was a loud ripping sound, and Emma stared dumbly at the tight dress’s disgustingly expensive fabric tearing right across the navel, her popped out belly button poking out as the whole thing threatened to split into a belly-sized hole.

“Ah! Ma’am, this is why I keep telling you to stop wearing tight dresses around the house!” Emma admonished her.



“But I look so adorable in them!” Jenny whined, her belly swaying gently as she rocked her hips back and forth. Emma shook her head sadly and fetched the measuring tape, but just as she returned and had the tape wrapped around Jenny’s belly, Jenny’s breasts began to vibrate.

“Hold on a second while I take this.” Jenny instructed as she fished her phone out of her deep cleavage. “Yes, Johnny, what is it?”



One short call later, Jenny slotted it back in until it vanished between the recesses of her cleavage and looked back at Emma.

“Change of plans, we’re going to see if any of my evening dresses still fit.” Jenny whipped around to face the direction of her bedroom, Emma wincing as she nearly wiped out a vase in the process. “My husband decided that I’ll be accompanying him to a party this evening, and we’re in trouble if I don’t have anything to wear!”



“I’m sure I can get a tailor in within the hour if needed, ma’am.” Emma said dutifully as Jenny marched off at a snail’s pace, her burdensome orb still poking out of her audibly tearing dress. At the rate she was going, she wouldn’t have to undress by the time she got there.

“And Emma! Get me something to eat, I’m starving!”