By FoxFaceStories
An Anonymous Commission
When James, Leo, and Kamal are forced to enroll in their college home economics class to make up for grade deficiencies, they think the whole thing will be easy and mock the class relentlessly. Annoyed, their professor chooses the three of them for a special maternity experiment with a ‘simulated pregnancy’ belly; if they do so, they will automatically pass. Little do they know that she is actually a witch, and their growing bellies and feminising features are all too real . . .
Part 8: Going Full Woman
From that day, they were to present themselves, and be treated as, fully pregnant women. The magic of their transformation would speed up as they did this, Professor Shanks promised them, but while there was now hope upon the horizon, it was undeniable that the three were embarrassed. After all, with the increasing reality changes, now even their IDs showed their new female names.
James was now Jane Hallen.
Kamal Gupta was now Kamika Gupta.
And Leo Eastman was now Layla Eastman.
And certainly they did look it. As they continued to expand and change throughout their seventh month of pregnancy, each of them were not only undeniably female to the public’s eye, but were actually starting to look quite pretty, to the point where despite their obvious belly bumps, a number of men were even hitting on them in public!
Jane, whose red hair now went almost to the small of her back and whose breasts were now beautiful, slightly freckled D-cups, appeared almost like a Hollywood beauty, albeit quite an expectant one. And she was a her, for it was hard not to think of herself as a her now that her penis was barely a nub and she could feel something burrowing a tunnel from her uterus to between her thighs. She was forcing herself to pay attention to Shanks’ home ec class now, and with Layla’s help was applying makeup, including red lipstick, to enhance her already luscious beauty. Her belly was so damn big that it stretched out her dresses, making her feel ridiculous, but so many women complimented her. She switched up by getting maternity dresses that hugged her belly more, conforming to the lower slope of it before clinging to her thighs. It had the unintended effect of showing off all of her curves, and working at Fry Chicken started to get . . . weird.
“Mhmm, I came here to get some chicken, but I see one sexy momma snack right in front of me, right now.”
“Hey, that’s one beautiful bump, darling. Are you single?”
“I love a girl with a baby in her. Call me if you want a good time before the nasty bit happens.”
These were just some of the comments that Jane received. Each time she snapped back, enraged at this treatment.
“Go fuck yourself, weirdo! I’ve got twins and you’re cracking onto me, what is wrong with you?”
“Hey, eyes up here, fucko? Order your chicken or get the fuck out. No commenting on my ‘pregnant ass’, asshole.”
Naturally, she didn’t last long after that. Her manager pulled her aside and recommended she take some time off ‘for her body’s sake,’ but the implication was obvious; she’d fucked up and was fired. Which meant that she needed a new job. A new job as a very pregnant woman. She knew she’d be in hot water if she couldn’t pass the textile part of her job, so she put in for several clothing store jobs, and to her surprise she was put on one on a trial basis. The one at the mall with Carol. It made for an awkward initiation, having to work at a women’s clothing store with a whole maternity section.
“Oh my God! I didn’t expect you to be joining our group, Jane! How is the little one?”
“Little ones. Twins.”
“Oohhh, lucky you!”
“Yay, lucky me. Look, this is just a temporary job for me. I just need to know what I can to work it.”
Carol smiled. “Well, we desperately needed someone who can sell maternity clothes by demonstrating them, so I hope you like lots of pretty mommy outfits, because you’ll be wearing them!”
Jane could only rub her stomach and sigh deeply. Such a far fall from being a powerful gym bro. Now she was only five-foot-six and with a very slender build, apart from her larger breasts and very large belly. And now, working at a women’s clothing store, she’d be wearing some very stylish maternity dresses that showed off her bump and body to everyone around her.
“I guess it could be worse,” she mumbled to herself. “I could be as stacked as Kamika.”
Indeed, Kamika was struggling with her bras, because she kept rapidly outgrowing them! Just a month before, she had been a sizable D-cup, bordering on Double-D’s. But as she moved into her final trimester, it was as if her body was rapidly developing breast tissue just to be ready for all the breastfeeding she would be doing. It felt like almost every week she woke up to find her bust enlarged, emphasised by the way she found the straps on her bras too tight, the cups too small, and her voluminous boobs bulging out of said cups. They wobbled and jiggled with ease, constantly reminding her of their weight, and coupled with her rounded stomach, she was feeling far too forward, necessitating that she keep one hand on her back while she waddled about on campus. It also meant that she couldn’t hide her chest anymore, both because of the amended contract and because her tits were just too big. They had raced right past E-cups and were now into F-cup territory.
“Fucking F-cups,” she muttered to herself as she headed off to tutor programming students to make her side money. “I can’t believe I’ve got freaking F-cups. I haven’t even slept with a girl with F-cups before, and now I’ve got them!”
She was wearing a two piece outfit that unfortunately showed off part of her naked belly; one of the sacrifices made to be more ‘womanly.’ This consisted of a very cute top that hoisted up her boobs and showed off more cleavage than she liked, with a trail of cloth that only obscured the upper half of her belly, leaving her bellybutton on display. Her lower half had a loose skirt that fell to just below her knees. Coupled with her new earrings, makeup (with aid from Layla), and the way her wide hips swung now so naturally, she made quite the vision. This became very obvious to her when she was trying to tutor one of the programming students in his first year, and he continued to ogle her tits.
“Okay, so it looks like you’ve made a very common starting error here. If you think of this as an If-Then-Else scenario, then the way you’ve written this script is - hey? Are you listening?”
The student blushed. “S-sorry. I was just, er, distracted!”
Kamika instantly realised exactly what the distraction was. As she leaned a little over to see the student’s computer, as much as her belly would allow, her stomach pressed against the man’s side a bit, and her huge boobs were level with his eye lined to the side, almost touching his face.
“Gods,” she said, realising how unintentionally sexual she’d just been. “Won’t this body just quit it? Look, let’s just get back to the problem, and we can ignore how that just . . . seemed.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” the student said, though he didn’t sound totally convinced. It didn’t help that Kamika now had a very sensual, demure-sounding voice.
The worst part was, she felt a little sensual. Yes, she was mega-pregnant, which made her off-limits to a lot of guys, but some were checking her out. She was so damn close to getting her vagina, and it made her worry how completely aroused her body was feeling. Third trimester tiredness was settling in, but not enough to overcome that horniness. That desire. That interest in men that had her touching her magnificent breasts and night and orgasming from the sheer sensation of her nipples.
“Hey, are we going to keep sorting this out?” the student asked. She remembered his name was Steven. He was kinda cute, which frustrated her immensely. She wasn’t gay! She knew that! And yet . . .
“Uh, of course. Let’s get back to it. Stupid hormones are . . . distracting me. At least I’m not as far gone as Layla.”
Which left the last of the trio, who was exemplifying femininity and womanhood even more successfully than the other two. She had turned into a radiant-looking mixed race beauty, her black curls falling midway down her shoulders, her eyes dark yet bright, her smile beaming. She glowed in a way the other two didn’t, and most likely because despite her claims otherwise, she was starting to embrace her pregnancy and femaleness far more earnestly. She purchased maternity dresses, stockings, nursing bras, and so on, searching out items that fit her body type, which while buxom and beautiful, definitely was starting to ‘pack it in the back,’ as some would say. Her ass had blown up, her hips becoming magnificently wide and leading to some serious junk in her trunk. White girls might have been more conscious of this look, but as a girl with dark skin and lovely curves, she thought she looked spectacular, and other girls in the home economics class thought the same, complimenting her often.
“Th-thanks!” she said, still feeling nervous being ‘one of the girls.’ “I just really feel like embracing being a woman. Just for a little bit, I mean.”
“Oh, please,” Sandra said. “You look amazing! The Pregnancy Project has made you even more beautiful. You’re going to make some man really happy one day.”
And that was just the thing, because despite grappling with her ever-growing stomach and chest, learning makeup and sewing and textile skills, and generally preparing for an actual baby in case things went awry, Layla couldn’t get men out of her thoughts. She knew it was the same for her friends, but they were in denial in a way she wasn’t, because the truth was, she had met somebody.
It had been by total accident, and happened on a night when Layla didn’t have a Fry Chicken shift nor too much college work to do. She was at home in her apartment, lying in bed and feeling her baby kick, astounded that it was a real child. Her child - even her mind thought of itself as female now, and who was she to argue? She looked like a glowing, quite pregnant woman, and part of her was almost anticipating the moment her vulva would open, making her completely female . . . at least for a time.
It also induced her to make a decision. She rose from her musings and had a shower, keeping her hair dry so she could style it nicely. She dressed her bump up in a gorgeous black dress that clung to her curves and showed off her very impressive backside, and she went out on the town. Prior to this, as Leo, she only went out to clubs with her friends. But she wanted now to go out by herself, just the once, to feel sexy and female, even if she couldn't exactly drink. She had to wait in line, of course - pregnant ladies weren’t exactly let through early, though she had little doubt she’d be let in ahead of the line without the pregnancy, what with how fine she looked.
But once she was inside, Layla started to feel confidence swelling up inside of her. She was already the wrong gender, with a whole baby inside of her, and the looming threat of birth and getting stuck like this. What could possibly make her anxious now?
So she danced. She drank sweet non-alcoholic drinks with no embarrassment, uncaring how girly they were. She partied up against other ladies who drunkenly adored her bump, and she even did some twerking just for the hell of it. Layla had to stop occasionally and recover, of course; there were limits to her energy levels, but as she was returning to a booth at the side she turned to the side and accidentally knocked a man’s drink right out of his hand with her belly, causing it to spill all over him.
“Oh, shit!” she cried. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”
“It’s okay, it’s fine!” the man replied, moving to pick up the glass and pat himself down. “It’s just a little spill!”
“Let me get you some napkins!”
“You don’t have to-”
But Layla was possessed with a pregnant woman’s steel will, and she took the man by the hand over to the bar counter and grabbed some napkins. “Here,” she said. “I’ll help get your collar.” She didn’t mean to, but she was pressing her belly against his stomach as she worked to clean him up, feeling terrible about this. She almost didn’t catch his eyes looking down at her lovely DD-cups. When she looked up, the man was blushing. It was then that she realised how devastatingly cute he was. He had longer hair, roughly chin length, chestnut brown in colour. His eyes were gorgeous amber, framed by rectangular, nerdy glasses, and he had a soft but kind chin. The man’s frame was fit - not massive, but fit. Lithe with muscle in a way her body appreciated. She instantly felt a sense of warmth flooding through her.
“S-sorry,” she said. “I’m coming on pretty strong here, huh?”
She only realised how the sentence came across after she’d said it.
“No, it’s good! I like it! I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been approached this way by a pregnant woman before.”
She held her bump, realising it was still touching him, though he wasn’t moving away.
“Oh, I’m such an idiot. This probably looks all weird to you.”
He laughed. “A little! But colour me intrigued. I’m Ross.”
“I’m Layla. This is all new to me. It’s, uh, been a while since I met people.”
“Nine months?”
She giggled. “Just seven, asshole!”
“Oh, just seven. And here you are, out on the town.”
“It’s not a common thing. I just wanted to, well, feel more like me for a bit. My drinks are non-alcoholic!”
“I should hope so! And does your boyfriend have any thoughts about this?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Husband?”
“No husband. No, uh, babydaddy in the picture. Just me and, well, little guy. Or girl. Sorry, this is super weird. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He slowly took her hand, a moment that felt incredibly intimate. “Neither do I. This is uncharted territory for me. But can I get to know you more anyway?”
They’d ended the night with a kiss. No, that wasn’t right; it was a full makeout session outside the club against her car. It didn’t end in sex, much as Layla’s body wanted it, that would be going too far, and she didn’t have the equipment yet, but the feeling of his tongue sliding into her mouth, of his hands cupping her magnificent breasts and then caressing her swollen belly . . . it was divine. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, or what he’d said to her.
“I don’t know what this is, especially with, well, you being pregnant. Can we see each other again anyway?”
She’d nodded, breathing heavily, feeling her hormones light up with hope, arousal, and shock at what she was doing and how much she loved it.
“I’d really like that,” she replied.
***
The month continued, the three of them experiencing their own unique struggles and adjustments to the revelation that they were truly pregnant, truly becoming women, truly working to try and change back. Their babies were only becoming more active, larger in their wombs, and other signs of fertility were emerging as well: Kamika in particular was embarrassed to realise that her breasts were experiencing pre-lactation; occasionally wetting the front of her clothing, including the stylish pieces she wore to convince Eliza that she was truly taking on the role of a proper woman, her belly often half-bared in her two-piece outfits.
But it was halfway through the month, when James was adjusting to being a very pregnant storewoman, and Kamika struggling with her unbearable arousal, and Layla constantly beaming as she texted Ross back and forth, readying for lovely nature walks and movie experiences with the man that she was almost considering her boyfriend . . .
. . . that they truly became women, right down to the space between their thighs.
Kamika realised first. She had so many damn sex dreams these days. She’d read that women get the most horny in their second trimester before losing it in their third, but that was not her experience. Instead, she dreamed of handsome men fucking her, lifting up her hips so that her swollen belly rose and fell with each thrust.
She woke to her fingers in her new vagina, rubbing her throbbing clitoris, her juices running down her thighs.
“Ohhhh! Yess! Oh God, yessss! MHMM!!!”
It was a greater orgasm than she’d ever achieved, somehow made all the more powerful because of her pregnancy hormones. It was a revelation.
Layla was second. She realised it when she was holding her belly with one hand, texting Ross with the other. He’d just sent her a picture of the two of them from their walk, and even went further in his comment: ‘I never thought I’d say this, but your bump is really sexy. I find myself quite taken with it, as much as the rest of you.’
It had her biting her lip and shivering. She began touching her breasts, only to feel a dampness in her, wetness. When she lowered a hand down to check, she smiled. It took all her resistance not to feel herself too much.
She wanted to save herself for him.
Jane, on the other hand, realised it much later while at work. She’d sat down to pee that morning and noticed no difference, then gotten dressed for work. She was coming into her own a little, but was desperate to change back; her belly was too big, her ankles too sore, her boobs aching too much, and she was almost completely a woman! Still, she did her best to be a good student of womanhood, doing her hair up and wearing a chic lavender maternity dress that hugged her belly tightly, revealing its massive size. She rubbed it continually while working, but when Carol convinced her to try on a new pair of comfortable underwear to better sell it to customers, she noticed something in her reflection in the mirror of the changing stall.
“Oh fuck. Oh, fuck! You’ve got to be goddamn kidding me!”
Her womb was so distended that she’d almost missed it, but there it was. A frickin’ vagina. She was now a full woman. Her proud member was gone.
And time was running out.
To Be Continued . . .