The Janitor Pt. 13

Enjoy! Pic will be posted soon!

The Janitor - Revisited

By

Brimmingbelly04

Based on The Janitor

By

KomperaKlause

Part Thirteen

***

Countless rumors and various theories had been swirling regarding Derek’s “alarmingly advanced state” (as the media obsessed with covering it, “politely” put it. Everyone wanted to know why he hadn't given birth yet when it was (beyond obvious) he needed to.

Why hadn't he been induced? Was Derek purposely prolonging his pregnancy? If so, how, and more importantly, why?

Many people wondered if he was actually pregnant? Maybe his massive belly was the result of some tumor growing out of control?

But his breasts… By then, unless they lived under a rock, everyone had seen what they were capable of.

More people suspected drugs were involved. Those people were right, but Derek couldn’t tell them that. Doing so would only make things worse, so he was going to continue to only share the bare minimum.

Thanks to Felix's tailor, Carlo, who'd almost had a stroke when he saw the thirty-three year old he’d been summoned to CorpaCorp headquarters to dress, Derek looked decent for the first time in a while. The suit and shirt Carlo had hastily but professionally put together, all actually fit.

Everything was understandably tight and therefore highlighted each and every one of the VP’s many curves and bulges, but nothing looked like it was about to blow. For now…

Well before he was ready, it was time for the press conference to get underway. After getting dressed, Derek had given himself plenty of time to get there so he wouldn't start off all flushed and sweaty in front of the cameras. Hopefully, he'd stay that way till he'd finished performing his latest circus act, but unfortunately, he knew better than to think the odds were in his favor.

The moment Derek started waddling out towards the podium, all the reporters and cameras went crazy. So too did several of the babies, because why wouldn't they?

At least once he was behind it, some of his belly was hidden by the podium. Some of it, but not much anymore.

Innumerable hands shot up as Derek’s name was repeatedly shouted. The VP placed his hands on the podium, or tried to… His first attempt was a failure, as his belly (the front of which was pressing against the podium) kept it beyond their reach.

Needing its support, Derek was forced to lean forward and let his belly hang. As he and his pregnancy settled into position, the podium groaned and wobbled a little, but thankfully held.

Derek cleared his throat and smiled out at the gathered press pool. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he began.

No one returned the greeting, but at least they quieted down. While the flashes from the cameras also began to dwindle, every hand remained high in the air.

“Thank you all for coming,” he continued. “I wanted to take the opportunity to update you on all that's been going on here at CorpaCorp, specifically the great work we’ve been doing with Manternity.”

Still, not a single hand went down. No one had come to hear about CorpaCorp or Manternity… That could've been accomplished through a press release. Everyone had come to see Derek.

They could take all the pictures and video they wanted to, but he was going to stick to the plan. He and Felix had spent time going over what he was going to share that was business related, and while the investor had made it clear it was fine if Derek wanted to embellish with some more “personal details,” he wasn't going to.

They'd agreed to him being out there on display for ten minutes. No more, no less. That left Derek with nine and just under a half more to go. He could do it.

“I'll take questions at the end,” he promised before continuing. “Now, let's get to it… Last quarter yielded some impressive returns, thanks in large part to Manternity’s, uh…” he trailed off, suddenly losing his train of thought.

“Manternity’s, um…” he tried again, the results not any better.

Now was not the time to be hit with a bout of pregnancy brain! Derek had given hundreds of press conferences by then and yes, it'd been longer than usual since his last, and he'd never given one under the current circumstances, but still… He should've had this in the bag!

Get it the fuck together, Carter! He silently chided himself as he looked around the room.

Unsurprisingly, everyone was still staring at him. Every camera was still trained on him, and all those hands remained up. Fuck.

The thirty-three year old squeezed his eyes shut as he took in as deep a breath as he could, which caused his belly and breasts to all puff out a little more, putting his suit and shirt under additional strain. He just needed a couple of seconds to focus on his breathing and try to calm down, then he’d be fine.

“Sorry,” he quietly apologized. “Long day…” he explained with a small, forced smile and chuckle.

“Derek!” One of the reporters called out, even though he hadn’t been called upon. “Given the…” she paused. “Uniqueness of your condition, who will be taking over your roles at CorpaCorp and Manternity while you’re out on leave?”

“When are you going out on leave?” Someone else asked.

“It's safe to say why Manternity was created, but will it remain a focus of CorpaCorp's once you specifically are no longer pregnant?”

Derek had been expecting this… If anything, his (insane) pregnancy had (needlessly) reminded him of just how relentless the media could be. Every question that was asked, which more than likely, would go unanswered, thankfully killed more time for him, but he still needed to try and keep things on track.

“As I said, I'll be taking questions at the end,” he reminded, politely as he could, before once again attempting to control the vultures. “I'm very proud to say that CorpaCorp and Manternity both exceeded expectations last quarter. Consistently working hand in hand, we made some pretty big advancements in the, nnnnngh…” he suddenly trailed off in a groan, instinctively gripping tighter onto the podium he could barely reach.

For a second time, the VP lost his train of thought. This time it was his pregnancy itself that made Derek lose his way, specifically the horrific realization it was about to get even bigger…

Oh God, not fucking now?! Derek silently lamented as his belly became almost unbearably tight (again,) which he now knew to be the precursor to a growth spurt.

Fuck! Not another one?!

As he was struggling to process all this, Derek somehow felt a single bead of sweat start rolling down his forehead. He took his now shaking right hand from the podium and gently set it on that side of his belly, willing it to not do what it was about to. As he forced a small smile back onto his increasingly flushed face, Derek knew full well his biggest burden was going to do whatever it wanted, regardless of what he did or silently requested of it…

Someone cleared their throat as they approached from behind to his left. The thirty-three year old turned to see Nick, the intern, tottering towards him, carrying a large cup in his left hand. Derek hardly registered taking it in his own hand, his unfocused eyes honing in on the young man’s belly, which looked miniscule compared to his own, even though it was actually quite large in its own regard.

“Who is he?!” The first reporter to call out, did so again. “Is that who’s taking over Manternity while you're out?”

She was obviously talking about Nick, CorpaCorp's other preggo…

Even though he felt seconds away from blowing, passing out, or maybe both, Derek couldn’t help but laugh. The thought of the intern running anything other than the copier was ridiculous, but he still gave some thought to suddenly handing the press conference over to him because he really needed to get out of there, ideally before something very embarrassing happened in front of the cameras.

But he couldn’t. Ending the event early was going to piss Felix off enough. Handing it over to an intern would really send him over the edge and Derek needed him on his side when the time came to talk with his boss about his immediate future. The VP needed to at least be able to say he’d tried to fulfill his obligations.

Maybe some water would help? Derek raised the cup to his mouth and took a big sip. As soon as the liquid hit his tongue, he nearly spat it out.

It wasn't water, it was another fucking shake!

Raising them up over all the cameras and reporters, Derek darted his eyes around the back of the room. It wasn’t long before they landed on Matt. As soon as they did, the thirty-three year old instinctively raised the cup to his lips again and started to chug.

“Is it true Mr. Carter, that Benjamin Whitman was recently seen in your office in a comparable condition?” A third reporter asked.

So much for those NDA’s…

Derek finished the shake like he was contractually obligated to. In a way, he was. If he hadn't the janitor wouldn't have done anything in the moment because he wasn't that crazy, but he most definitely would've later, and Derek didn't need to learn any more lessons.

He truly felt ill now. He shakily gasped for breath as he set the glass down on the podium.

All of a sudden, his midsection gave a forceful jump, causing him to grunt, arch and clutch at it. A security guard hurried over and tried his best to support Derek at his widened waist.

“Is everything OK, sir?” The guard asked.

Derek glared at him as he tried to catch his breath. No, everything wasn't OK… Nothing was, but what did that matter?

Without meaning to, he burped right into the microphone. The assembled crowd continued to stare, looks ranging from oddly fascinated to disgusted and concerned.

“So sorry about that,” Derek promptly apologized, though the words were difficult to understand as he was now somewhat slurring them together.

His belly shuddered, forcing him to hunch over it as he moaned. He felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“Ngggggghhh…” he groaned, almost toppling again.

The only reason he didn't was because a second guard had come over and was doing his best to support his other bulging flank. Derek’s belly jumped again, this time hitting the podium, causing it to topple. The thirty-three year old just registered the commotion beyond his pulse pounding away in his ears.

Since he had the support of two full-grown men to replace that of the podium, Derek moved his hands to his swell and feebly rubbed it up and down as he tried to figure out how to explain what was happening…

“The babies…” he breathlessly started. “I think they're, well… They're very active at the moment, and… And, ooooooh!”

All of a sudden, his heaving tits surged forward, severely straining the buttons of his shirt as he cried out. Well made as it was, Carlo's shirt didn't stand a chance… A moment later buttons started flying off, exposing Derek's deep and supple cleavage. The giant preggo groaned as he felt his nipples start to further distend and expand.

Derek struggled to hold it in. He didn't want to make a mess but knew it was unavoidable.

“Fuck! C-can’t!” He choked out right before the dam broke.

Milk started gushing into his custom-made shirt. It rapidly soaked through, splattering his belly, the dais and the toppled podium. Now whimpering, Derek’s hands shot to the mounds as he felt his shirt starting to tighten lower around his torso as his belly began to swell.

“Nggggh…” he moaned as the orb pushed forward, more buttons popping off one by one.

So much for ending the press conference in time… Damn it!

Derek’s vision blurred. He reached out to grab hold of something, but all his hands could reach were parts of himself. His entire belly shuddered again.

The babies lurched, seemingly all of them at once. What little air remained in them was forced out of Derek’s lungs as everything suddenly went black.

***

When Derek came to, he was incredibly uncomfortable. He was lying on a hard surface with his belly, which was still trembling sporadically, towering over him. All the weight and trembling made him groan.

His hands went to his bulging sides as they began to relax, only to instantly shiver again. He realized a sheet or something had been tossed over him.

Wherever he was, it was dark, only a few lights on, off in his periphery. Derek looked to his right and saw a cubicle partition. He looked to his left and saw another, the toppled podium laying on the floor in front of it, right next to him.

“He's awake!” Someone said quietly.

Derek couldn't tell if they were whispering or far away?

“What's happening?” He asked, words thick and slurred, like he was drunk.

If only.

Several employees suddenly clustered around him. Derek's eyes were still struggling to focus but already, notably absent from the group were Felix and his boss. Needless to say, he wasn't surprised. They only came to him when they needed him, not the other way around.

Matt wasn't there either, which was even less of a surprise. The janitor was probably off somewhere watching the failed press conference on repeat, or reviewing the CCTV footage from the room he surely had access to, if he hadn't created some himself. Whatever footage he was watching of Derek's most recent incident, without a doubt, he was loving every second of it.

Of all people, it seemed that Nick had been elected the group's representative because he stepped a little closer, resulting in his belly hovering right next to Derek’s.

“You fainted a few hours ago during the press conference,” he said. “Paramedics were called and you and the babies were all checked. There didn't seem to be any immediate issues, but they wanted to take you to the hospital.”

“Why didn't they?” Derek asked through a groan.

At this point, he was all for medical intervention. God knows he needed it. Every single part of him was throbbing, burning and aching.

“They were concerned about doing so while you were unconscious,” Nick explained. “That, and, um…” he trailed off, obviously hesitant to continue.

“And what?” Derek demanded as forcefully as he could.

“They didn't have the proper equipment. They said if you want to be transported, just to call and they'll come back with the, um… what did they call it?” Nick turned and asked someone else.

“Some kind of lift?”

Were they talking about a fucking forklift? Probably… Shit.

Was Derek really that big and heavy? Did he even really need to wonder..?

“Do you want me to call them?” Nick asked.

He should've answered yes, so he could be “properly” taken to the hospital, where he would finally cop to seeing Dr. Porter, whom he'd been avoiding like the plague, but he'd already embarrassed himself enough for one day. That and even though he'd been passed out for a few hours, he was still exhausted and didn't think he'd be able to handle such a trek, physically or mentally.

But he couldn't stay there laying on the floor…

“Damn it, fuck this!” Derek groaned as he stupidly tried to sit.

It was pointless and a waste of precious energy. As soon as he tried putting his abdominals to use, his middle trembled again and felt like it was about to burst right open. The only things he succeeded in getting off the floor were his shoulders and head, and just barely. The back of Derek’s head ended up slamming back against the floor and he groaned in pained frustration as he stared at the ceiling.

“I'm going to call,” he heard Nick say as he clutched at what he could of his ridiculous pregnancy.

“I'll call,” Tammy said. So she was there. Of course she was. “I'm gonna have them send some firefighters too.”

“Good idea,” someone else agreed.

“No!” Derek shouted, leaving him gasping for breath. “Just… fucking help me!” He pleaded.

“Help you what?” Tammy asked.

“Up!!!” He yelled.

At least he intended to. The request actually came out more like a squeak.

“And then..?” His faithful assistant delicately asked.

“Take me… to my… office,” Derek panted out.

Tammy had known he was going to say something like this, but she still shook her head and sighed before turning to address the group. “You heard him, everybody…”

It was very much a group effort, and a very arduous and awkward one at that. Everyone except Nick, who didn't have much help to offer thanks to his own pregnancy, stepped forward and surrounded Derek, grunting and straining as they grabbed him by the arms, shoulders, legs, back and whatever else seemed not too unwise.

It seemed to take ages just to get him to a seated position, many of the babies writhing within his overstretched womb all the while. By that point, the thirty-three year old was full-on sobbing between ragged, blubbering breaths.

Again, Tammy knew Derek well. As such, she knew all too well how stubborn he could be, and that he wouldn't want to be taken to the hospital.

So, while she'd been waiting for him to regain consciousness, she'd had an extra large, wide and reinforced wheelchair couriered over from a medical supply company. She and Nick now held it steady (as they could) while everyone else attempted to get the ludicrously fecund thirty-three exec up off the floor and into it.

How they succeeded was nothing short of a miracle. A forklift most definitely would've been useful. A few staffers silently wondered if CorpaCorp would cover workers’ comp claims for any strains, sprains or thrown out backs they might have acquired under such unusual circumstances?

Once Derek was in the chair and it'd stopped its residual wobbles, he just slumped there for several minutes while he (and just about everyone else) caught their breaths. While the chair had stopped wobbling, it took longer for his throbbing belly and breasts to, though none of the three orbs ever fully stopped moving.

At some point during the transition to the wheelchair, Derek had stopped sobbing, only because he had to devote all his focus and energy to getting off the floor. Now that he was more properly seated, and it was a little easier for him to breathe, the thirty-three year old was back on the verge of tears.

This was beyond ridiculous. It was comically outlandish to (and beyond) the point it couldn't possibly be his reality or existence, and yet it was.

“OK, Derek, let's get you to your office,” Tammy said gently.

“I… I just need a minute,” he raspily requested.

Everyone had cluttered around him, their red and sweaty faces plastered with looks of fatigue, worry, amazement and even slight amusement. They were all there to tend to him, so Derek should've been grateful. He was to a degree, but he was far more ashamed and embarrassed.

“Thank you” was a simple enough phrase to get out, even in his breathless condition, but he couldn't say it. He couldn't even look at anyone, just down and out at himself, which provided zero comfort or consolation.

By then (and honestly, for some time prior,) the thirty-three year old’s dimensions had become cartoonish, especially with the sheet left on the floor and his newest shirt in tatters. Seated in the huge wheelchair (which still wasn't quite huge enough,) his fat, once again fully exposed (and still leaking) tits were shelved so high by his bare, boulder of a belly, that they squished up around his chin.

“Eww, what's that smell?” Someone asked.

Instinctively, Derek took in a sniff. He didn't smell anything unusual, at least not to him. What he smelled was sweat and milk, both of which he'd come to produce in abundance. But then he sniffed again and realized the milk he was smelling, his usually sweet smelling milk, smelled sour.

He was coated in it, which meant he smelled spoiled. The hits just kept coming…

“Someone take Nick's place and help me push,” Tammy said.

Derek's minute was up. He was going to be taken to his office. He really should've been on his way to the hospital instead of his corner suite, but once again, he'd made his bed and had no choice but to lay in it.

Too bad his actual bed was miles away, because he really wanted to lay down and never wake back up.

***

“Derek Chambers, Vice President at CorpaCorp and the head of its new Manternity division, fainted at a press conference yesterday in a rather… disturbing scene. Chambers is heavily pregnant, one of very few men known to have a multiples’ pregnancy,” the reporter noted as footage of Derek's chaotic collapse played on screen.

“Unfortunately, Chambers didn't take any questions before the incident. His pregnancy is notably extreme, some people outright not believing its authenticity, so obviously, questions abound.

“It's been reported the thirty-three year old has fully recovered, and is now at home on bed rest, eagerly anticipating the expansion of his family. This morning, CorpaCorp issued a statement as follows.

“Mr. Carter is a vital part of our organization, and we are all happy and relieved to report that he and the babies are all doing fine. Following yesterday's events, Derek has decided to substantially decrease his workload and will only be working minimally from home. We fully support his belated decision.

“Mr. Carter was eligible to take paternity leave weeks ago, but insisted on continuing to work through the late stages of his pregnancy. Through his work with Manternity, Derek has and continues to make great strides for expectant men around the world. His hardwork and dedication are admirable, and CorpaCorp will continue to be supportive and accommodating as Derek becomes a father.”

Derek huffed as he turned off the TV. He wasn't at home on bed rest, he was still at the office!

No longer having much of a choice, his boss had finally caved and told him to go home and stay there till after “things had been sorted out,” (aka, he gave birth and had finished his leave.) Eager as he was to get out of there, after all that had happened the day before, Derek ended up spending the night on the couch in his office, too exhausted, embarrassed, depressed and defeated to leave.

So no, he wasn't on “bed rest.” He should've been and it was probably in his very near future, but not yet. It was better the press reported that though, because if they knew the truth, then they'd really have a field day.

There was a knock on the door. As much as the VP didn’t want to be disturbed, he still sighed in relief, assuming it was Tammy doing the knocking now that she'd found something new for him to wear home since he'd not only ruined his suit, but outgrown what he'd worn to the office.

His relief was short-lived when he remembered that getting dressed required him getting up and otherwise moving, neither of which he felt like doing, let alone up to it. That said, huge as it was, Derek’s ass had gone numb from sitting/laying on the couch, so a change in position would do him good.

It took three attempts for him to get to his feet, during which Tammy knocked two more times. Derek was surprised she hadn't just entered by then but was too preoccupied to think much of it as he struggled to find his balance.

Even before he had it, off the couch for only a few seconds, he felt like he weighed a literal ton. How he could still (somewhat) move around under his own power was a mystery, but he was glad he could. How much longer that would be the case remained to be determined.

The thirty-three year old groaned loudly as he tottered forward. Already, his hips, back and feet were all on fire and silently screaming at him. Derek didn't know how he was going to get through the day, let alone the rest of his pregnancy (however long that ended up lasting?)

All he could do was hope that things would at least be physically more manageable once he'd had his first “batch” of babies, but after “naturally” delivering them, Derek already knew there were bound to be “issues,” none of which he wanted to think about at the moment, let alone ever.

“First batch of babies…” First of God knows how many… How the hell was this his life now?!

For the umpteenth time, the thirty-three year old cursed himself for having let Matt blackmail him. Even if he'd ended up doing some jail time for his crimes, he would've been sent to one of those cush, white collar crime places, which would've been nothing compared to the punishment he'd ended up selecting for himself.

Damn it!

When Tammy knocked a fourth time, Derek started getting annoyed. At least it gave him the resolve to make it to the door before she knocked a fifth.

Even though the distance from the couch to the door was less than twenty feet, it might as well have been a thousand. By the time Derek made it, he was gasping, sweating and groaning as he awkwardly leaned forward and more so, to the side, to turn the handle.

“Oh my God!” Someone said in surprise, once he'd revealed himself.

Someone that wasn't Tammy. Someone who was Nick, the damn intern.

“What're… you… doing here?” Derek panted out as he braced his hands against the wall, the left side of his belly doing the same.

The intern just stood there and stared with his mouth hanging open. Derek stared back. Glared, actually. What did Matt's third known preggo want now, and where the hell was Tammy with his clothes?

“Well..?” He raised his brows following an annoyingly pregnant pause.

Derek loathed the fact the intern's belly was so small compared to his. Was that what a “normal” (relatively speaking) pregnancy was supposed to look like? Needless to say, the CorpaCorp exec had no fucking clue what “nornal” was anymore…

“H-h-here!” Nick stammered as he suddenly raised and thrust forward a bag he'd been holding down at his side.

He did so so quickly, he almost clocked Derek right in the belly button. The thirty-three turned a little more to the left, pressing his belly harder against the wall so he could reach beyond it to take the bag. As he took it from the intern, he wondered why the younger man had gone from gawking to now looking anywhere but at him?

The increasingly perturbed thirty-three year old was about to ask the kid what the hell his problem was, but suddenly realized what it was when he felt something touching the right side of his belly: plastic.

Yes, he should've felt the pressure from the bag, but not its texture. Why could he so keenly feel what the huge shopping bag was made of?

Unfortunately, the answer was all too simple: because he was naked.

Obviously, Derek had a lot on his mind, but how the hell had he failed to remember he didn't have any clothes on?! Now, he was completely naked while he stood there completely dominating the small corridor leading into his office, giving Nick an unabated look at his hyper-fecund form.

Even though his belly was so huge, it fully hid his crotch, Derek still wanted to curl up in a ball and die. It was no wonder the intern looked so fucking horrified?!

“So, um… Tammy said you might need help getting dressed?” Nick asked, sounding very much like he wished he didn't have to offer his assistance.

Derek lifted the bag, placing it atop his belly and holding it between his tits. Big as it was, it didn't even fill the space between his uppermost mounds, leaving them and the enormous nipples they were capped by fully exposed, along with still nearly all of his middle.

“I'll manage,” he replied, barely getting the words out in one breath.

Tammy had told Nick that Derek was going to say this and that he would have to make his offer again, but he didn't. He couldn't… Now, the intern couldn't even bring himself to look at the man he'd been so excited to meet, the only other pregnant man he knew, who'd once been an inspiration of sorts…

Recently, Nick has been getting a little scared about his own pregnancy. While he was only carrying one, his baby was getting so big, so quickly, he was increasingly worried about how he was going to give birth to it?

He wasn't as worried anymore once he reluctantly looked at Derek again, eyes focusing in on his giant belly again before he raised them and their gazes met. As soon as they had, the intern quickly looked away.

Derek Carter had gone from once being an inspiration to him, to anything but. Somehow, the VP was even bigger than he'd been the last time Nick had seen him, the day before, right here in his office, where he and Tammy stood back and watched the others help the scarily fecund exec out of what remained of his suit and onto his couch.

“If you change your mind, I'll be at my desk,” he said, both hands flying to his belly, which he anxiously rubbed as he turned and waddled away as fast as he could, which was a lot faster than his one-time “idol” was capable of achieving.

Closing the door took more effort and maneuvering than opening it. Once it was shut and locked, Derek leaned back against it, causing the wood to groan, much like himself as he closed his eyes and threw his head back, letting it hit the door hard. After a few moments of additional self-deprecation, the thirty-three year pushed his massive ass back to get moving.

Now that he had clothes (that hopefully fit,) it was time to take another shower, get dressed and head home. As he very slowly made his way towards the bathroom, Derek wondered if he'd still fit in the shower?

He barely had the day before, and hadn't been able to turn around without stepping out of it. Thankfully, he hadn't had another growth spurt in the time since, so there was hope. Not much, but some.

Nearly a minute later, Derek had only almost reached the closest corner of his desk, the bathroom still “a ways” away. All of a sudden, his belly gave a jolt strong enough for it to feel like it was about to wrench right off of him. The strong and abrupt movement left him gagging and very unsteady on his feet.

Somehow, he managed not to throw up or topple over.

“Mmm…” he moaned through tight lips once he was as sure as he could be that he wasn't going to be sick. “Fuuuck…”

He was going to have to wait a little longer to find out if he still fit in the shower. At the glacial rate (pre global-warming) he was moving, he knew he wasn't going to make it to the bathroom, let alone the shower, without first taking a break.

Derek would've found that pathetic had it not been for the fact that it looked and felt like his belly contained not countless babies, but a large and fully grown man. Maybe even two..?

By the time the thirty-three year old made it to his desk, he was on the verge of tears again. The further he proceeded into his office, the more the biggest babies twitched and shuddered. As a result, an almost unbearable tension radiated out from his enormous middle, causing him to endlessly groan and his wobbling breasts to erratically but powerfully spurt milk, much of which ended up on the recently replaced carpet.

Derek had just set the bag down when his belly suddenly violently contracted, leaving him no choice but to wail out in pain. For the next few seconds, he literally saw nothing but stars and thought for sure this time that he was about to blow.

In order to stop screaming, he bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to (further) alert anyone of his presence, just so they would have to force their way into the office and see him like this: a hot, naked, pained and flustered mess.

Derek ended up biting his lip so hard, he drew blood. As much as it hurt, the (additional) pain was a welcome (albeit temporary) distraction from the scary severity of his situation.

He needed a lot of things at the moment, but what he most fevertly needed were his pills. The contraction-inhibiting ones, to be precise, and only those!

If he didn't get some (aka, many) into his system quickly, babies were going to start popping right out of him, he was sure of it!

Thankfully, his trusty bottle (which Matt kept refilled on a regular basis) was sitting on his desk, within what should've been relatively easy reach, but it wasn't with a belly the size and weight of his. With a loud grunt, Derek leaned back and heaved the orb up onto the desk, causing his nipples to squirt more as the supposedly sturdy piece of furniture groaned louder than he had under its new, hefty burden.

Now that his belly was supported, it was somewhat easier to maneuver. The thirty-three year old’s back sighed in relief, but he couldn't stop to enjoy the sudden “weightlessness.” He needed those pills…

Grunting again, Derek slid his pregnancy across his desk, papers, the desk phone and other trinkets, getting knocked out of the way after colliding with the man-sized boulder. Derek followed his belly, awkwardly tottering to the side in front of his desk, keeping an eye on the bottle so he knew where to reach out before it went out of view behind his biggest mass.

Finally, even though he'd lost sight of it, he was able to grab it. Hands shaking, he twisted the cap off and poured several pills into his left palm, which he promptly swallowed dry.

He no sooner had when he questioned why he'd done so? Why hadn't he let himself go into labor?

Derek didn't want to birth the babies, but knew he was going to have to in order to get them out of him, and that's what he wanted. More and more as of late, he “fantasized” about giving birth. He still knew remarkably little about his condition, and yet he knew he was on the cusp.

Knew that at least some of the babies, the oldest and biggest, were ready to be born. Had been for a while now, so why not let them..?

The answer was painfully simple and obvious: Matt. Derek didn't know what, but the janitor would surely do something if he gave birth sooner than he wanted him to.

He held onto the bottle tight, just in case he needed to down a few more pills, but a couple seconds later, the ones he just had got to work and his belly relaxed. Most of the babies did too, but Derek remained overwhelmed.

Belatedly, the thirty-three year old registered tears running down his cheeks. He was crying again.

While Derek had finally been given permission to go home and stay there, that hardly seemed wise. That being said, he needed to get out of the office while he still fit through the door.

Hands still shaking and tears still flowing, he set the bottle down and grabbed his phone. Derek needed help, and there was only one person who could give it to him: Ben.

He made the call.

***

Whitman came through. He told Derek he needed a few hours to make the necessary arrangements, but not to worry. He promised he'd take care of everything, just as the thirty-three year old had hoped.

Shortly after he finished his very cramped shower and had gotten dressed, Tammy came and checked on him. While “fully” clothed, Derek was still embarrassed when he opened the door to let his assistant in.

Tammy had found him a massive t-shirt and pair of shorts, but both were still incredibly tight and nowhere near big enough. His enormous nipples poked hard against the shirt and already, wet spots had formed around them. The hem of the shirt barely made it to the widest point of his belly, leaving his red, protruding navel exposed.

“How are you doing?” Tammy asked as she closed the door behind her.

Immediately, she was hit by a smell, forcing her to steel her face. The scent in the corner suite was a combination of old and new sweat and milk. It was like being in a men's locker room and a dairy farm at the same time.

Derek grunted and rolled his eyes as he reached back and tried to pick his shorts out from between his mammoth ass cheeks, which had already gobbled them up.

“Just peachy.”

“Ben Whitman called,” Tammy shared. “Said he's arranging to have you taken home.”

Derek nodded. He didn't bother telling her he was actually going to be going to Ben's home. She'd find out eventually anyway.

“You must be getting excited?” Tammy asked, raising her brows.

“For what?” The thirty-three year old asked with a frown.

“The babies…”

“Right. Sure.”

“Nervous too?”

“Yes.”

“That's natural for a first-time parent,” Tammy assured.

Maybe it was, but obviously, Derek wasn't like any other first-time parent, not even Whitman. He continued to frown.

Tammy took the hint. “Is there anything you need me to do before you're picked up?”

“Just keep everyone out of here,” her boss requested. “Including the kid.”

“You mean Nick?”

“Yes.”

Tammy nodded. “Will do. Anything else?”

Derek’s frown deepened further. Tammy had always given him her best, but during the last several months, her dedication has skyrocketed, right along with his waistline (and all his other dimensions.) At any point during this crazy, embarrassing ordeal, she could've asked to be assigned to another executive, but she'd stayed and kept performing new, increasingly awkward tasks for him.

The VP wished he could give her paid time off, just like he was being granted, but his ever faithful personal assistant wasn't pregnant. He could at least give her the rest of the day off and was going to but first, there was one more thing Tammy could do for him.

Had to, actually, seeing as he could hardly do anything for himself anymore.

“Can you order me something to eat?” He sheepishly requested, the mere mention of food naturally making him smile.

Thanks to all the lives he was growing, there was hardly ever a moment when he wasn't hungry, but now the thirty-three year old was downright starving. While he'd eaten plenty before it, he hadn't had anything to eat following the press conference, so yeah, starving…

Following his weekend of endless consumption, Derek could've gone several more days without food. He probably should have, but he couldn't.

He was really going to have his work cut out for him when it finally came time to think about trying to get back in shape. Ugh…

“What would you like?” Tammy asked.

“Anything at this point!” Derek practically moaned, unable to control himself.

“Craving anything?” His assistant queried, raising her brows again.

He was craving a milkshake. A normal one, but no. He shook his head as he instinctively stroked the sides of his belly.

“I'm assuming you're…” Tammy started to say.

Derek truly hated to admit it, but he had to. He nodded emphatically. “Starving!” He finished for her, expressing his condition (well one of them, anyway) aloud.

“I'll see what I can do,” Tammy chuckled before turning to leave.

***

Derek couldn't stop groaning or burping. Once again, he'd eaten too much. Way too much…

Tammy had taken him for his word when he told her he was starving. She'd ordered enough food to feed a large family, which she'd set out buffet style on Derek’s desk after clearing everything else off it to make room. Executively sized as the desk was, there was only just enough space for all the trays, each of which was loaded with various breakfast foods.

Derek ate all of it. He tried to stop himself several times but never succeeded. After his weekend with Matt, he was able to eat inordinately fast. In less than an hour, he'd eaten everything.

Now he really, really felt like he was about to blow. The thirty-three year old groaned as he leaned back on the couch. More than half of his belly was now exposed, his newest shirt already nearly rendered a crop top. Derek hated himself for what he'd just done, but at least the hunger was gone. For now…

Tammy came back in to check on him and steal some food for herself and a couple of the other assistants. She'd ordered so much, she figured Derek wouldn't mind.

She figured wrong.

“Oh my God!” She exclaimed when she saw the completely cleared trays. “You ate all of it?!”

Derek nodded his chin wriggling between his tits, which knocked loose another massive belch. “All of… it,” he confirmed through a groan.

Tammy was shocked and there was nothing she could do to hide it. For the next several seconds, she stood there, mouth hanging open, looking back and forth between her boss and his desk. Whenever she looked at Derek, she looked at his midsection, which now looked to be almost as big as her cubicle!

“I tried to… to… stop,” Derek panted. “But I couldn't,” he shook his head, causing his breasts to wobble and squirt.

“You did say you were starving…” Tammy quietly reminded.

“I dunno… what's wrong with… me, Tam?” He groaned as he rubbed what he could of his aching sides, pushing his shirt up higher till all it (barely) covered was his chest. “I just… I can't control… myself!”

“Ben should be here soon,” Tammy said, checking the time on her watch. “Maybe he'll have some ideas?” She shrugged.

There was only one person who had less self-control than Derek, and that was Whitman. The thirty-three year old moaned but almost instantly, it transitioned into another massive burp.

Obviously, he needed help (in more ways than he could even count.) Whitman was pretty much an expert when it came to pregnancy as it related to the janitor. If anyone could help Derek get through all this, it was the former CEO turned baby factory. That being said, Derek didn't feel much relief knowing he'd soon be under his care.

He felt anxious. Anxious for all that still lay ahead of him… Giving birth however many times and then somehow still being pregnant. Most likely having to eventually marry Whitman and put some babies into him to earn his keep.

Ugh.

"I'm gonna… take a nap,” Derek told Tammy as he dipped his chin deeper between his tits, finally succeeding in stifling a burp.

“That's probably a good idea,” his assistant replied with a nod. “I'll wake you when Ben gets here,” she promised before turning to leave, frowning a little as her own empty stomach grumbled.

After smelling and seeing all that food, now she was starving, but unlike Derek, she still thankfully had self-control…

She'd order herself a nice, big salad for lunch.