This choice: Avoid getting knocked up for six months and you can be released from it all • Go Back...Chapter #6Avoid getting knocked up for six months and you... by: Mr. George   "Just avoid getting knocked up, for the six months of the trial, and you're free from it all." Pain stabs through your middle, and you fold forward in your seat. Head low, your mane of hair forms a wall between you and the man. Only the immediate floor, the hem of your skirt and feminine legs fill your vision.
He barks concerned questions at you. Instinctively, you know something's gone wrong. The pain spreads through your body, lessening as it fills all of you. Breathing become a little easier, as the pain faded to an uncomfortable warmth. Trying to take a deep calming breath, you feel your bust pressing against your thighs. A sensation you'll have to get used to for the next six months.
A subtle change catches your attention, your coppery-red hair darkens, until it's pitch black.
Breathing feels even harder, more of an effort. As if your chest is being crushed. With the pain fading, you sit back, and see hair colour isn't the only change. He's typing rapidly, reading various displays and looking wildly around. Erupting to your feet, you feel the fabric brush over your skin. Your hips widening, you look mutely to him for help.
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Demurely, you clasp your hands behind your back to hide the restless fingers. It doesn't help, as you feel your rump expand. Child-bearing hips were never this horrifically wide. The cracking of your bones adjusting is softened by the extra flesh.
Face fixed, terrified of breaking down if you thought about all this, you beg him with your eyes to stop this.
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"I've got it... I've got it..." he cries triumphantly, but you still feel the same sensations, now in your chest, the warmth migrating from your hips upwards.
"Now.... Now, please." your voice begging, pleading for speed.
"Just a moment.... Just a moment..." he doesn't lift his head from the keyboard as he frantically works away. However, your shoulders are already starting to ache. The weight increasing, the girls thrusting forward, driving your top wider and wider. The brushing fabric shifting as you grow, a teasing, tickling caress as your nipples stiffen at the friction.
"Now." He stabs the keyboard triumphantly. A last glance at the screen before looking up, and taking in your body.
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You arch an eyebrow, as words fail you. These hips are horrifying, and those damned tits... Your TITS, this big you can't call them breasts. They could feed a family of nine.
"Well..." you manage, as he takes in your body.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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