Labor Day

Hello all, sorry this post is a few hours late. I spent forever trying to get the text to fit my picture and finally gave up on editing it down.

This is a direct sequel to my old post, A Pregnant Clause. I strongly recommend you read that first; one because this sequel won't make much sense otherwise; and secondly because it's one of my favorite posts.

As you'd guess from the title, this was meant for Labor Day, but I wasn't happy with the ending. I've got too many ideas for fun little twists to take things. Expect a third continuation to this once I find a suitable picture.

Anyway, without further ado, the caption/short story is after the break, as usual. I hope you enjoy.

(Oh, I'm also thinking of posting some of my opening text for the third Chief Executive Bimbo ebook I've been working on, on the Patreon/SubscribeStar pages. I'm probably not going to use it due to some new ideas I've had, and figured it could make for fun bonus content for pledges, rather than just editing away entirely like so many of my rough drafts. I'll probably post it this weekend, work and weather permitting.)

- B-Rex

Labor Day

***

Peter sat up, gasping in shock. Sweat poured down his body. It took him a long moment to realize he was in some sort of hospital room.

It took several more seconds before he remembered to cover his large breasts. To his surprise, they were tender to the touch, and were they larger?...

Before that thought fully ran its course, he saw his naked, bloated belly. "What the-- I'm HUGE!!!?!!!"

The curtain around his bed suddenly flashed open, as his former secretary - and now boss - stepped up to his bed.

"Vicki!! What are you-- Why is my stomach-- No, where the fuck am I?!" He groaned, laying back. His breasts and oversized belly were just too heavy to keep sitting upright.

"That's Miss Denmore to you, Pegs," she admonished, but with a playful smile. "I am your boss, after all. And in fact, the Board swore me in as the official CEO a few hours after the markets closed at the end of your three month trial period. Of course, that was a few weeks ago--"

Peter, or as he was now known, Peggy the Office Preggo, shot up in bed again. "WEEKS?!!"

His boss patted his giant belly reassuringly. "Shhh, dear, you'll get the nurses in here again. Now, where to begin..."

She looked down at her hand on his stomach.

"Well, I guess this belly is a good place to begin. So, a few weeks ago, when you got the great news about remaining our lovely pregnant office mascot for the next, uh, 19 years, I guess you just couldn't handle the excitement and passed out right then and there. You poor dear. Some very helpful local passersby saw you fall and called for an ambulance."

She finally removed her hand, wiping the sweat off on his blanket and then found a remote for the bed. Pushing a button, the bed slowly bifurcated, lifting his torso up until he was able to see over his breasts and belly again. "That's better. Now, when you arrived at the hospital the ER doctors naturally assumed you were going into labor, so th--"

His face reddened with both anger and embarrassment. "They did WHAT?!"

"It's to be expected, Peggy, you looked ready to pop at any moment. Anyway, when they got your pants off and saw your, uh, manhood flopping out of your panties, they assumed you were a pre-op female-to-male transitioning transman and decided to go ahead and give you a caesarean section."

Peter's red face suddenly went pale. "They did what?!"

Unbidden, his hands flew to his belly, but he was so large he couldn't reach even to his navel. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, part of him realized if he couldn't even reach past his 'baby bump' he certainly couldn't reach his cock either.

"Oh, don't worry, dear, they did a great job. You can hardly see the scar." She smiled down at him. "Well, once they discovered your new baby was in fact just a big saline-filled sack, they finally realized you were not what they thought and searched your purse for proper I.D. and then they called your office. Oh, speaking of I.D.--"

She pulled a card from her own purse, and handed it to the pregnant man. "I went ahead and had them make it official, Peggy. I mean, what if a police officer were to pull you over some day, looking like that and with a license that says 'Peter Reginald'?"

Peter, or as his new license formally stated, Peggy Reggo, took the card hesitantly, shaking.

"Now, let's see, where was I... Oh yes. After they called the office, me and the girls came straight over to check on you. The hospital was horrified that we'd threaten to sue, but after I chatted with the doctors we came to an agreement."

Vicki smiled, the smile cold and predatory now. Peggy gulped; he'd seen that look before, right about the time he signed the contract that had put him and his body in this whole mess.

"The hospital agreed to take care of your medical issues free of charge, on the condition we didn't sue. Technically that implant they removed is company property, after all. Anyway, then they went ahead and gave you a full womb transplant, really state-of-the-art work. I had to really threaten them to even try it out on you, apparently it's not FDA approved yet and they're only trying it on a few volunteers for experimental purposes. Luckily, they needed another volunteer and you fit the bill perfectly. 

"After your new womb had healed, the doctors implanted you with surrogate fetuses from the local fertility clinic. I figured triplets would be a good start this first year, and then you can work your way up over the next two decades. I didn't think you'd get so big so quickly though, you're already a blimp and it's still seven months before your due date. I hope the doctors didn't miscount those fetuses... Pegs, are you okay? You look a bit pale--"

Peggy the Office Preggo stared at his former secretary and now CEO of his company, and promptly passed out cold.

***