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Farm Girl, Part 6
🕑 Added 2021-10-28 04:23:23 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Note: This is a female version of Farm Boy.
Summary: A high school senior, Megan noticed that her older sister has been dipping into the chemical on their parents' farm, and has been gaining a lot of weight. A bit disgusted, a bit curious, Megan tries the chemical hormones herself, and experiences the best high of her life. She quickly introduces the chemical to her two best friends, and the three progressively get addicted, all while experiencing incidental changes, such as butt growth, breast development, belly expansion, in addition to other, stranger, things. Contains: Female: pregnancy, breast expansion, multiple breasts, breast-belly, butt expansion, weight gain, and more. Also, issues of drug addiction.
-
Jane came over just as they were sobering up from their latest high.
She was wearing a pair of tight black leggings which her butt was stretching to drastic extremes, the material riding up her crack, as her ass-cheeks bobbed, actually bobbed behind her.
Megan found herself staring, sort of entranced by the rocking and swaying masses, big as basketballs behind Jane’ back.
Sam was sprawled on the bed, somewhat more relaxed, though she still tensed up and twitched every now and then.
Megan finally tore her gaze away from Jane’ backside. “This stuff is really messing with our bodies,” she heard herself blurt. “I mean—my hormones—they’re going crazy. Really weird stuff keeps happening.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m gonna try to quit.”
Her friends gave her blank, dubious stares.
Jane repeatedly reached into her hair, rubbing, scratching, her face screwed up in uncertainty.
-
Megan’s boobs were growing.
All four of them.
The lower pair was progressing much more rapidly than the upper pair, but each of the four mounds was undeniably getting fatter and fatter.
She was seriously jonesing. She tried to distract herself with school work and video games. She often went to Sam’s house, where Sam was uncomfortable, irritable, and in a small amount of pain.
Sam would fumble against her mass. She looked ludicrous and deformed. Her belly was practically as big as she was, and she could hardly get up, not without the aid of Megan and Jane supporting either side of her. She had taken sick leave from school.
Sam’s pain wasn’t constant. Her belly tensed every so often, causing Sam to grimace and groan and clutch it, before the episode passed and she was panting, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” even though the claim was ludicrous.
She was blowing up, mutinous and uncomfortable, and somehow resistant to her own body. She just said she was okay. And she wanted to get high, again and again, as though to subdue the discomfort. She outright refused to see a doctor. Then one day, as she tried to heave herself up, she collapsed to the floor and lay there moaning and clutching what she could of her mass with her hands.
Sam’s belly jerked, and she released a scream. Megan was frozen in shock as Sam floundered on the floor.
Jane must have been more lucid than Megan was, because she heaved her ass out of her chair with some effort. “Call an ambulance!” she said, hurrying to Sam’s side.
Sam was writhing, her gargantuan belly jerking and heaving forcefully like a rocking boulder. It genuinely looked like it was about to burst.
Snapping out of her reverie, Megan managed to get on the phone despite her pounding head and excessive sweating. Through the withdrawal, she somehow stammered her way through her friend’s predicament.
Paramedics arrived in moments, and Sam—well, she—delivered.
-
The doctors were amazed. Sam was stunned.
She had given birth to quints, and with no medical attention during the pregnancy or fertility treatment preceding it. On top of that, she kept claiming to be a virgin. The whole situation was ludacris and baffling, and Megan…was rather queasy.
She hadn’t seen Sam in days, not since Sam had been carted off to the hospital and become famous (or infamous). Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Megan saw Sam sometimes when she turned on the news, her friend looking weary, pale, and overwhelmed.
It was a lot to take in. So much so that Megan found herself hitting the hormones again.
What if the drug had somehow changed Sam, at a biological, anatomical, physiological level? The thought was terrifying and nausea-inducing. Then again, Sam could have been lying about the whole virginity thing. But somehow, it didn't fit the mousy girl’s personality.
Jane seemed almost as stunned as Megan was. She sat and stared off, persistently scratching at the top of her head, where the bone spur things were worsening. “This stuff is really messed up,” Jane mentioned one day.
“Yeah…” Megan agreed. Daily, she tried to resist the drug, and failed. It was the only thing that felt remotely right anymore.
She continued to try to hide her growing breasts from her family, but her efforts increased in futility alongside her size. It got to the point that she couldn’t be bothered to care much anymore. She impatiently jammed her tits into tank tops that steadily shrank against her girth. Half the school already ostracized her, the other half looking at her like the freak she was. But Megan didn’t care about that either. All that ever mattered was her next high.
-
It was an entire month since her departure that Sam showed up again.
She was no longer towing an enormous globe of straining flesh, but looked very fat around the middle. Rounded, but softer.
Her belly bobbed and swayed somewhat. Reliably, the rest of her was still small and thin.
Sam looked flustered, awkward, and weary. She was inexpertly clutching a baby in one of her arms.
The baby gave one look at Megan and released a high-pitched wail. Megan cursed as her upper breasts immediately started squirting, soaking through her shirt. It was bizarre, like the baby had activated something in her.
“Damn it, Sam!” Megan snapped, hugging her chest. Even her hidden lower nipples were aching.
Sam threw her a frown. Jane just stared from Sam to the infant, then back again.
By that point, Jane’ bone spurs seemed more like two little horns protruding from the top of her head. “Surprised to see you back,” Jane looked at Sam as though she was an alien. Then she added awkwardly, to Megan’s surprise, "Can I... Can I hold...?”
Sam unceremoniously dumped the baby into Jane’s arms. “I’ve just been really overwhelmed lately,” she said, looking helpless. “I thought we could just hang out. It’s been a lot of stress.” Her eyes trailed about the room, as though she was looking for something. “So what are you guys up to?”
Megan fidgeted in her wet shirt.
Her upper breasts had become E-cups by then, and served as a sort of overhang to the developing lower pair. They were B-cups, but Megan didn’t think anyone had noticed them yet. She folded her arms over her lower mounds. She wanted to change into a dry shirt, though it would be pointless. The baby was still gabbing and she was still leaking. “Can you control that thing?”
“Meg, that’s my baby,” said Sam wearily, plucking the infant back out of Jane’s arms. “And it’s a she.”
With that, Sam unbuttoned the top of her blouse and stuffed the baby against her chest. Megan couldn’t help gawking. It was so weird that Sam had become a mother all the sudden.
Sam’s breasts were round and full, but not that impressive. C-cups at best. Megan tore her gaze away as the sound of the baby suckling filtered through the room.
“It sucks,” Sam supplied, though no one had asked. “Not only was the labor just awful, but now I’m their twenty-four hour buffet. I don't want to nurse but mom says I have to.”
The silence went on, Megan and Jane left speechless by the awkward train of the discussion.
“So…do you have any powder?” Sam asked.
Megan snapped out of her reverie. “You’re kidding, right?”
Sam looked desperate, almost pained. “I’m not,” she said.
Megan’s attention shifted back to the newborn suckling on Sam’s chest. “Should you really be taking drugs while you’re…”
“How am I supposed to know?” said Sam impatiently. She rubbed her face with her free hand. “Does it look like I care right now?”
“Sam, isn’t the hormone what got you into this mess?” said Jane uneasily.
“Are you going to give me some or not?” said Sam irritably.
The behavior was so uncharacteristic for her usually meek and mild-mannered friend that Megan was rendered mute again.
But after a moment, Jane lightly shook her head. She retrieved a baggy of the hormone from the desk on the far side of the room and handed it over to Sam.
“Thanks,” said Sam faintly as she accepted the bag. She was practically drooling as she opened it.
She took a sniff, and momentarily froze, her eyes closing as a hum escaped her throat. She stood there like that for at least a full moment, before gingerly making her way towards the bed, still clutching the infant to her chest. She sat down heavily, and reclined, and sort of just zoned out as she stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, while remaining distinctly mindful of the baby against her.
After that, things went back to normal. Or as normal as things could be after a teenage girl randomly popped out quints.
Sam relied heavily on her parents to look after the babies. Sometimes she would attend to her breasts with an electric pump, the sight of which made Megan dizzy. But she mostly hung out with Megan and Jane in the evenings, and they spoke lethargically of dubious plans to leave their small town someday. Possibly sooner than later.
Megan had somehow gotten into college. She wondered if her strong grades for the first half of the school year had counterbalanced her apathy in the latter half.
People were talking about orientations and ISBN numbers, and all she could think about was how her four tits were getting bigger and bigger, the lower ones pushing, heaving the other ones upwards, and it was like some terrible nightmare that her freakish anomaly would soon be blatant on her chest.
In a weird way, she was jealous of Sam. Sam had effectively birthed out her abnormalities in the form of five babies. Even Jane seemed to have it better that Megan. Yes, Jane’ ass cheeks were absolutely massive, but it wasn’t as though she had four of them. Woah, that would be trippy.
Megan felt as though she spent a lot of her time tugging on her shirt hems as her tops were drawn higher and tighter. Her upper breasts were unnaturally perky, sticking up uncomfortably atop the shelf that the lower ones created.
Megan’s upper breasts were blatant and huge, and she no longer made any efforts to hide them, because it was absolutely futile to try to disguise volleyball’s sticking out from one’s torso. Her lower breasts had to be D-cups by then, and were undeniably starting to peek out beneath.
Her parents just seemed numb, disturbed, mute. Astonishingly, they hadn’t said anything. But really, what could they? They were awkward and mortified and could hardly even look at her anymore. Their daughter was transforming, and they were helpless to stop it.
One morning, her mother did finally address it.
“What’s going on with you?” she said, gazing at Megan, then back down at her scrambled eggs. “Have you just been…um…do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Megan weakly responded. “I mean I just…I don’t really know what’s going on.” Her face was hot, and she was so embarrassed, she sort of wanted to die.
But somehow she had opened the flood gates, literally. Tears poured down her mother’s face, which just made everything so much worse. Megan failed to evade as her mother closed in for a tight hug, and it was as uncomfortable as it was stimulating, the whole thing altogether horrifying. Megan patted her mother’s arm as she grimaced and struggled for dear life not to start squirting milk, thus exacerbating everything (including her humiliation).
After that, her parents went into options, as Megan sat and vacantly nodded in her flustered, tender state. They started consulting specialists. Apparently they couldn’t afford treatment for a potential hormone imbalance or her “cosmetic issues” as it was not considered medically necessary by her insurance. They promised they would start saving for breast reduction surgery. Apparently they hadn’t noticed the lower pair yet. But then, Megan spent most of her time with her arms folded against them.
Though Megan nodded and indulged them with short, auspicious responses, as she retired to her room that evening, she laid down, feeling very doubtful that any treatment would be helpful. Especially considering the fact that she was still using.
She took her late-night hit of the hormone and dozed away.
