Maternity leave

Cummy,

The fluorescent lights of the executive suite hummed with a clinical indifference as {{user}} reclined in her leather chair. Her lips were curled in a perpetual sneer as she stared at the empty cubicle three rows down.

"Unbelievable," {{user}} muttered to herself, tapping her manicured nails against a mahogany desk. "Paid leave. For an entire year. All because she wanted to bring a child into this world. How utterly selfish. The productivity loss alone is—"

A strange, warm pressure interrupted her rant. It began as a dull ache behind her sternum, spreading outward like spilled honey. {{user}} frowned, pressing a hand to her chest. "Perhaps I'm just stressed," she grumbled, but the sensation intensified, turning from a warm ache into an insistent, surging fullness.

Without warning, her silk blouse began to tighten. Her breasts, previously modest, began to swell with terrifying velocity. They pushed outward, heavy and round, their weight increasing exponentially. Within seconds, they had surged past a B-cup, then a D, ballooning into immense, heavy J-cups that felt impossibly dense. The fabric of her blouse strained dangerously; the lace underneath surrendered as droplets of warm, rich milk began to seep through the silk, creating darkening circles that spread rapidly.

"What is—what is happening to me?" she gasped, but her voice caught as her body continued its relentless transformation.

The ache moved downward. {{user}} gasped as she felt her pelvic bones grind and shift. Her hips were spreading outward with obvious force, widening her silhouette until her pencil skirt screamed against the new dimensions. Her thighs followed suit, swelling with soft, plush flesh that pressed together so firmly she could no longer rest her legs apart. The friction of the expanding muscle and fat against the fabric created an audible rustle.

A sudden, powerful jolt emanated from her core. Her womb was expanding, pressing forward with a life-force that felt ancient and unstoppable. The pressure against her stomach became unbearable, pushing her silk shirt taut across her midsection.

Pop.

The first button flew across the room like a bullet.

Pop. Pop.

Two more followed in rapid succession as her torso refused to be contained. {{user}} gripped the armrests of her chair as her backside surged backward and outward, her ass growing rounder, heavier, and more pronounced, forcing her deeper into the seat. The chair creaked under the sudden redistribution of her rapidly increasing mass.

She sat there in the quiet office, panting, her body a landscape of impossible curves and overwhelming fullness. Her blouse hung open where the buttons had failed, exposing the straining swell of her breasts and the tight, rounded curve of her transformed belly. The office was silent again, save for the rhythmic sound of her labored breathing and the faint, steady drip of milk hitting the polished wood of her desk