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The Wife
🕑 Added 2023-02-27 16:47:03 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $10 Patrons
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This is the January/February SUBMIT-A-PLOT reward.
Plot submitted by will taft: A wife, sick her husband's sexist comments about her pregnancy weight, starts a barefoot housewife act, cooking him large heavy meals loaded with fertility hormones, and luring him to bed to secretly impregnate him. Then she uses his increasingly round sensitive form and teases him into doing her bidding, mainly eating and growing bigger, but also preparing for her baby shower. She watches as he waddles around in his increasingly too tight clothes as his breasts, hips, and enormous belly outgrow hers, plotting to show off his new gravid form in a sexier baby shower outfit. (gaslighting, mpreg, stuffing, feminziation)
-
“You sure you should be eating that?”
Veronica froze midway through biting into her pasta. She lowered the fork, shooting a glare at her husband who was busily rummaging in the fridge. “Seriously?” she said. “Michael, we’ve been through this. I’m pregnant!” Veronica was fed up. She stood up from her seat at the kitchen table, lifting her plate of spaghetti in the process. She would find somewhere else to eat, somewhere peaceful and free of rude commentary.
“Yeah, that explains the gut.” Michael had retrieved a coke and some leftover wings from the refrigerator, clutching it all with one arm as he walked over. “But not the ass.”
Veronica gasped as Michael slapped her backside. She spun to send him a heated glare.
“Oh, don’t be like that. You know I’m just playing around. I think the butt is cute.” He gave a grin as he walked off to the living room to catch the rest of the game.
Veronica glared at his back until he disappeared. She was so sick of all his insensitive remarks. Her husband could be such a prick! And at five months pregnant, Veronica was at her wits end. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine.
So Veronica began to forge a plan.
-
Before Michael had convinced her to quit her job to start their family, Veronica had been an esteemed scientific researcher. Her background was in biology and genetic engineering. Michael, on the other hand, was a bus driver. In contrast with the stress and long hours of her own work, Veronica had always loved how grounded and laid-back Michael was. He never took work home with him. He never had too much weight on his shoulders.
That was going to change. It was time for Michael to experience firsthand the hell she was going through while incubating his baby.
When Michael came home from work that evening, she was in the kitchen, cooking away, barefoot and pregnant – the stereotype he saw her to be. Michael grinned cheekily, coming up behind her at the stove to kiss her cheek. “What’s all this?” he asked amusedly.
“Just wanted to do something special for my man,” she simpered. “Sit down. The food’s ready.”
Michael chuckled and did as ordered, sitting down at the table as Veronica began to serve him. At first he looked impressed by the heaping portions of lasagna, then humored as she brought out the tray of fried chicken. Finally, he started to look concerned, then alarmed, as Veronica lowered more and more large, fattening portions in of food in front of him. They were all favorites of his, but it was still a lot.
“This is…a lot,” he voiced that exact sentiment as he gave her a puzzled look.
“Nothing my man can’t handle,” Veronica responded with pride as she grinned wickedly.
Half amused, half perplexed, Michael shrugged and dug in.
-
Of course, Michael had no idea that the humongous meal was loaded with fertility hormones. He ate until he was sufficiently stuffed. But keeping up with the dutiful wife act, Veronica had shamelessly whined and pleaded for him to keep going. After all, she had made the dinner “special” for him. And Michael was all too easy to convince. He was hilariously responsive to the submissive wife act.
Which was how she got him to eat until he was groaning and grimacing, clutching his over-packed belly. He only got through about half of the massive meal, which was still quite impressive as she had only expected him at eat a quarter of it. Making far more food than his stomach’s capacity was part of the manipulation. She was using his potential feelings of inadequacy to fuel him to push himself farther.
And now it was bedtime. Despite Michael’s urge to sleep, she hung off him, giving him moon eyes. She traced circles on his chest with her pointer finger, doing all those stereotypical things that an ass like him expected of women.
“I want to try something…new,” she said with a mischievous smile once they got to the bedroom. “I got these special…toys for us,” she mumbled “shyly,” biting her lip in embarrassment. She went into the top drawer of her bureau and pulled out the items in question.
Michael responded with a weary smile. “As long as you do the work.”
-
It was entirely experimental. Veronica had never even gotten the legal clearance to try this out in a clinical trial.
But things had worked out, because Michael was her new guinea pig. And things were going fabulously.
-
“God, I love your little pot belly,” she teased a few weeks later, pressing her hands against his rounded belly as she leaned in to give him a kiss before work. It wasn’t large by any means, but on Michael’s slim build, it really stuck out. Veronica giggled as her own round belly pressed against it, and she imagined that their two children were meeting.
“Heh, yeah, gotta get back to the gym,” said Michael good-naturedly.
Veronica pouted. “No gym. I like my man a little soft. Like a papa beer. More to love.”
“Well you’re doing a number on me with your cooking lately. That linguine you made yesterday was insane. I nearly popped a button.”
“You liked it?” She leaned in for another kiss. “I think I’m nesting or something, can’t stop cooking,” she giggled.
“Keep at it sweetheart, I have no complaints.”
It was true that Michael was getting used to the large meals. And every night she urged him to eat a little more. She was grooming his appetite into something truly voracious. Lately, she could hear his stomach growling from the moment he got home from work.
-
“I’ll see you two later,” Michael said, leaning down to kiss her bump. “Geez Veronica, you’re as big as a house!” he laughed.
Veronica’s cheeks heated. She was only six months in, and her size was completely normal for her stage. It took all her strength to keep the smile plastered to her face, as she said, “I know,” with a forced giggle. “Anyway, enjoy your day pompkin. I’ll make sure the house is nice and clean, and I’ll whip up something good for dinner.”
Again, Michael put on that pleased but puzzled look. “Sounds great. See ya.”
It was a couple weeks later, and Michael was due for a new uniform. He might not have realized it, but his belly was nearly as big as hers.
The button-down shirt he wore for his job was stretched tightly over his gut, giving it a ruched look as the buttons strained. She supposed it probably seemed normal for his occupation. A lot of the other bus drivers were sedentary, sitting behind the wheel all day, going home to some beers and accumulating belly weight. And most of their shirts had gotten too tight on them as well.
Still on Michael’s build, the belly was firm and really stuck out.
But her oblivious husband still thought he was just getting a little “out of shape.” And it wasn’t as though anyone was complaining.
In fact, Veronica encouraged it.
-
“God, you’ve gotten so husky. You’re like a barrel,” said Veronica, all over him in the parking lot. It was a bit awkward with their respective pregnancies but she quite enjoyed when their bellies were bumping and pressing.
“Easy Veronica, you’re so handsy these days,” Michael laughed.
“I don’t know, you just look so good lately. My big man.”
“I can probably play Santa at the mall this year,” he joked.
Michael had only gotten bigger. His pregnancy swell was now larger than Veronica’s. Another fun surprise had been the softening of his chest, little hills developing their, while his nipples had gotten larger. He seemed oblivious of the fact that he was actually growing breasts.
“Yeah yeah, I know I’m getting fat,” said Michael. That was an understatement.
“You look amazing,” Veronica protested.
“Didn’t know you were such a chubby-chaser, baby.”
His hips and ass had gotten rounder and fuller as well. He looked completely ridiculous in the new work shirt he had already overgrown, as he consistently tugged it down, trying to cover his swell that made him look as though he was already at term.
Veronica could hardly believe how well this was going.
“Let’s go in, people are starting to look at us,” Michael chuckled, pulling her off him. With all the food and attention, he was fat and happy and everything was going well.
Clutching his arm, she went with him into the restaurant— an all-you-can-eat buffet. She noticed that his stride was a little awkward now, almost a bit of a waddle. She had to smile into his shoulder because she couldn’t believe how far this had come.
In only minutes, the two were seated in a booth ordering food. She delighted in the way Michael had to struggle a little to fit on his bench, belly crammed between his seat and the table. He grimaced.
“You okay, muffin?” she asked him.
“Fine,” he grunted, breathing heavily.
And then the dishes began to descend. A couple buttery chickens with stuffing, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, creamed corn, sliders, and a huge piece of steak.
“This is a lot…” said Michael with uncertainty. But she could see the way he gazed at the food, keen and hungry.
“Come on baby, I get so turned on when you feed that gut of yours.”
That was all he needed. He began to dig in, greedily, stuffing food down like a man who was starving. She had trained him to be this; to stuff himself relentlessly.
And as she watched him eat, she excitedly ordered more. She requested the spare ribs, the clam chowder, the rack of lamb, and even a birthday cake suited for six people as dessert despite that it was neither of their birthdays.
Any time Michael started to lose momentum, she egged him on: “C’mon baby, eat it all!”
And Michael did just that. He stuffed himself until he was groaning and whining, belly pressing painfully into the table. It trembled as he arched and gasped, his face red and pouring sweat.
The servers stood around them, looking at Michael in utter shock.
“Ngghhhh…errrrggghhhh!” Michael roared as his shirt buttons started to snap off.
“Check please!” Veronica called.
The outing proved a great success.
-
Michael was huge.
He was eating constantly, feeding his baby good. Veronica made sure that Michael had food on hand at all times and was constantly eating or snacking; just stuffing his face twenty-four seven. In consequence, he grew rapidly.
He was always flushed and breathless, as he waddled around, with his full hips, pump backside, and the perky DDs sitting high on his chest. Then there was his massive belly. It looked as though he had a beach ball attached to his torso! Veronica delighted in watching him struggle through every little thing. He had gotten so obedient, so docile with the advancement of his condition.
“Is everything all set up for the baby shower?” Veronica asked as she cradled her comparatively small belly. Carrying this full-term baby around was exhausting for her, she couldn’t imagine what he was going through, looking like a blimp while arranging everything.
“The balloons arrived just in time, and the baker dropped off the cake,” Michael gasped out. She had really put him through the hoops preparing the shower.
“Great,” Veronica said. “Now you just have to get into your special outfit.”
Michael looked uneasy. He was clutching his huge swell, which he could no longer fully encircle with his arms. His belly was wider than the rest of him, the huge orb jutting out from his body. He was constantly gripping onto fixtures, arching and groaning, trying to bear the impossible weight. “Is that…is it really necessary?” he managed.
“Michael, you promised!”
“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Oh come on baby, do it for me.” She tweaked his nipples, causing him to yelp.
“Stop that, you know how sensitive they’ve been.” He pulled her hands off him, face flushed dark red. “Fine. Okay, I—I’ll get dressed.”
“Great, see you out there dumpling!”
When she walked out into the baby shower, everyone cheered. They proceeded to coo and coddle her, telling her how beautiful she looked, and what a great job she was doing. Veronica was showered in love and warmth from her friends and family members. But that wasn’t even the best of it.
The room gradually fell silent, everyone looking in the direction of the door to the corridor. Veronica turned around, grinning widely. Michael had made his big entrance.
He was wearing an extremely tight string tank top that was severely low-cut, so low that it covered his nipples and little else, his round swollen jugs fully visibly, huge nipples bulging visibly against the overstretched cotton.
He had to consistently tug it down as it rode up his belly. The bolded words BABY ON BOARD were written in black across his abdomen.
His sweatpants were also too tight and shoved low by his mass. And appropriately enough, he was barefoot. Veronica had insisted on it.
Michael’s brother, Steve, dropped his drink, staring at Michael in absolute horror. “Mike – what the hell?” He stammered.
“Oh, the writing?” Michael looked down at himself, still huffing and puffing to breathe. “It’s a joke. I gained a little weight. We thought it would be funny.” He tried to laugh, but even he looked unsettled.
“What the fuck?” someone else whispered.
The attendees stared as though he was a a mutant.
“Guy’s, chill out. It was Veronica’s idea. We’re just having a little f-fun—” he broke off, wincing. “Ohhhhh…” His belly tremored visibly. He cupped it, kneeding it with his palms.
“You okay, dear?” Veronica asked, sipping punch.
“Yeah, j-just more of that indigest—ahhhhhh!” Michael cried.
Then his tiny tank top dampened, right over his nipples, as he looked down at himself in shock. “What the fuhhhh…nnnggghhhhhh!”
There was a splash of fluid as the back of his pants dampened and liquid pooled around his feet. Michael hunched down, hugging his shuddering belly as he roared in pain. And was Veronica imagining it, or was his top getting tighter, sliding against him, straining and stretching as more of his belly pushed out beneath the hem?
People started screaming. Another person stumbled and fell down, as others just ran for the exits as though they thought Michael might be contagious.
“Fuck this shit,” said Steve, fleeing.
“Oh god honey, get on your knees,” Veronica hurried over to Michael. “You’re doing great. I think its almost time to push.”
“WHAT!?” said Michael in terror and confusion. He screamed as his belly shuddered again. The back of his sweatpants tentes out, and he gave an inhuman screech.
Veronica gave an excited little shriek.
Her experiment had proven to be a great success.
