A young pregnant collage girl wishes that the student who fathered their child would get his act together. And of course, it gets answered.




Plenty of things can happen by accident. An accidental injury on the way to work. Accidentally forgetting to do an assignment that was due in the next day. Forgetting to put on your tie before heading out. All sorts of little mistakes, sometimes caused by things that at the time, seemed ineffectual but may have rippled outwards in their response. Like the beating of a butterfly’s wings that may somehow, someway cause a tornado years and years in the past. But just as likely, something may have an instantaneous response that may have a massive effect on one’s whole life. A car crash. A sudden illness or flu.
An unplanned pregnancy.


Jane was working through her English degree when her life had suddenly derailed. A tiny hole in the condom, one that she’d never even noticed when her boyfriend rolled it on. That was all it had taken to knock the young Labrador well and truly up. By the time she’d discovered that she was with child, it was too late to do anything and her personal views prevented her from terminating it. So she accepted that her degree would likely be put on hold, or at least slowed down as she prepared to become a mother.
The baby’s father, her boyfriend Thomas, had taken it well and been supportive….to a degree. He’d promised to stay by her and look after her, taking care of the baby together as he got his own history degree and moved on to provide for her. He didn’t speak about making it more permanent than boyfriend and girlfriend though.
However, Thomas wasn’t with her right now. As she sat upon the sofa of her flat that she shared with him, wrapped in a blanket and nibbling on some popcorn as she watched the TV, he was away. To be more precise, he was off with his pals at some sort of student party. Now, being able to let loose after all his collage lectures and football practices wasn’t something that she would have him not do. But then again, this was the third time this week. The last two he’d come back late in the morning, barging through the door in a drunk state. For someone already starting to suffer with morning sickness, she didn’t quite appreciate that he woke her up, by vomiting into the toilet then crashing onto the bed beside her, smelling of vodka and beer.
And when he woke in the morning, he acted like nothing had happened, moving off to classes, or study, or football.


It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, or that he wasn’t sweet to her. He was very sweet when he put his mind to it. He was still the same guy she’d fallen in love with. But then again, she’d probably love it even more if she could be out there with him. When she’d first met Thomas, she had been attracted to how wild and crazy he was. The big, hot guy who could match anyone for drinks and was constantly doing wild things. And if she wasn’t six months pregnant, she would be out there with him, stuffing her face with pizza and doing shots as they hit the town.
But no, she was here, alone in her flat, watching trashy TV. Her friends were supportive, but nobody really found it fun to be hanging around with a hormonal pregnant canine.
That didn’t matter much per say…but she didn’t worry to much about that. What worried her more, was the future. Would Thomas make a good father? As sweet as he could be, could she really raise a child with a man who was just so….wild? Could she raise a baby with him coming in to throw up in the toilet or collapse on the couch? Or holding house parties while she was away? That didn’t sound like a safe environment. Nor did she want this child taking habits off him, becoming influenced by him.
She sighed, rubbing the cream fur that covered her noticeable stomach bulge, feeling the curve of her stomach as it swelled with her growing child. She didn’t want to leave him. She wasn’t sure that she could in all honesty. But she just wished her would mature somewhat. Become a better father for her little one inside her. Jane sniffled a little, rubbing at her nose before looking at the clock. 23:03. She was feeling tired. It was time for bed. Tomorrow she had work to study and more baby apparel to buy.
As she rose, something dug into her thigh. She fumbled about and pulled out a pair of glasses. Strange. They weren’t a pair that she recognised. Thick with amber rims. They looked old. Definitely not a style that Thomas would wear. She moved to put them on, but stopped. Her nose tingled. Something told her not to put them on. A feeling that she couldn’t quite shake, nor describe. Just a warning in her subconscious.
So she put them down and headed off to bed, rubbing her stomach.


A few hours later, the door was clumsily opened, and Thomas staggered through, grunting as tears streamed down his cheeks. Though, he wasn’t crying. He was in fact laughing, a half empty beer bottle in his clenched fist.
The puma belched an alcohol blast as rubbed at his eyes blearily, his head pounding as the room shifted in and out of focus, everything a hazy mess.
He’d been at one of the nightclubs, with a few pals from the sports team. Next thing he knew they’d started to pound some shots of vodka that the barman happily doled out for them as the dubstep music screamed overhead, pounding into his brain. Those had dulled his mind enough and when they headed for some burgers, he’d started to knock back the beers too, to sate his thirst. They’d slipped into more and more bouts of drunkenness. He could remember someone bringing a portable speaker down onto a park and knocking back more beer as they danced under the stars, before they’d fucked around in the mud of the riverbank.
The feline had fallen asleep for a while, before one of his friends had woken up himself and shaken the lion awake and managed to slur out the time. They’d all made their way back to their flats, staggering and wobbling along, their clothes soiled with mud and dirt, beer all down their fronts. He might have puked…he couldn’t remember exactly. He couldn’t remember at lot. But at some point his contacts had fallen out. And he couldn’t fucking see.


“Gah….fukkin….doors” he slurred, drooling down his chin as he fumbled about for the door before pushing it shut. It clacked loudly and he paused, swaying like a tree in the wind. Should he not have done that? Why was he trying to be quiet?
“Oh…fuk…of…fuckking course….bleh” he coughed, remembering that he did in fact have someone living with him. It started to gradually come back as he barged into the side of the countertop, groaning in pain as he did so.
“J-jane…sleepin” he mumbled to himself, trying to feel his way forwards with a thick arm, his toned muscles bulging. He had the perfect, carrot shaped physique, with broad shoulders and pectorals like slabs of marble, currently bulging through his wet shirt.
He needed to see. The vision that was already impaired in the darkness was made even worse by his streaming eyes and lack of contacts.


“Sum….glass…..glasses” he managed to utter, knocking a folder of notes onto the floor, not caring as he trampled over them, his feet sliding upon the paper sheets. “Glass….n-need ‘em….c’mon”
No sign of the thin pair of spectacles that he usually kept on the countertop in case of emergency. Pots and mugs clattered as he dragged his hands along, before changing tack and heading towards the sitting room.
“C’mon…l-lil fuckkin…..b-b-bastards” he huffed, before his blurred vision alighted on something.
“G-g-gasses!” the puma moaned, launching forwards and trying to grab onto the spectacles. He just managed it, tottering about and having to grab tightly onto the plastic countertop to stop himself from falling over.
“D-death t-trap….mmpphph….table” the drunk rambled incoherently, straightening up and clumsily unfolding the glasses. They didn’t feel right….too thick and clunky in his fingers. But his mind was too dulled by copious amounts of booze to really process what he was feeling. He managed to unfurl the arms of the thing, before he shoved them onto his snout and tried to make his way towards the bedroom.
His vision was a lot clearer now, shaper once his eyes had been corrected. Despite the darkness, he could see in a lot more detail, allowing him to make at least a moderately more stable journey out of the sitting room and into the hallway. However, mid way through, he stopped short.
A pain gripped his abdomen, before a feeling like a gaint fists squeezing his guts coursed through his insides. There was a pause, before a loud gurgle echoed through the darkness of his flat. He grunted, clumsily rubbing at his flat stomach, before another strange feeling moved over him. His fingers….they didn’t feel like he was touching his own body. They felt…strange. Like they were pushing into something slightly squishy. Grumbling and mumbling, he pawed at himself, thinking it was some bloat from his meal and all the alcohol, only to find something malleable attached to his front.
Though he was too drunk to really grasp it, Thomas now bore himself a belly. A self of chub that was rapidly starting to puff out around his trousers in a muffin-top of ochre fur and flesh, all around his waist.
“G-ghuh?” he muttered, poking at the flab that was now puffed around his middle. “W-whuh?”
That didn’t look normal…

He tried to poke at it again, the texture of his new paunch feeling like a sack of grain or flour. As he did so, a new tightness formed about his back, as fatness build up, his sculpted shoulder blades slowly becoming submerged in a layer of jilling cellulite that moved downwards, forming all along his back, pressing up against his shirt.
Thomas rubbed at his forehead, even as his bulging biceps deflated like balloons, only to begin to fill anew: though with soft fat tissue opposed to solid muscle mass. His thighs started to widen, the gap between them swiftly grew smaller and smaller as his hocks plumped, widening into thighs that would be more befitting of a horse.
A creaking began to sound outwards as his buttocks grew past the size of his pants, drawing them tightly over the compressed fat of his behind. The seams started to take the strain, spreading as the stitching rapidly tried to hold everything together. More and more growth started to stretch the undergarments wider, while his trousers zip burst open, the expansion of his groin fat proving too much. With that, his trousers slid down his thickening legs, exposing his large thighs and calves to the weak light, as well as his straining blue bowers.
His muffin top was now growing even more sizeable, ringing around him in a double layer of golden chub, which steadily merged into the fat rolls that formed below his shoulders or the massive swollen protrusion of his belly.
“Huhmm” the lion mumbled, poking at his newly widened thighs. He was growing more than a meter across his hips now, his massive buttocks formed a huge car bumper of a behind that offset his huge gut, a massive protrusion that sloped down from his chest to jut outwards dramatically, giving it a pyramidal shape. Though, a surge of tingling in his chest harkened the arrival of his tight pectorals simply flopped outwards, drooping as they became thick sacks of flesh, slipping down his belly like two sandbags had been attached onto his chest. Thick nipples protruded through the sagging fur, as his plumped chest gained a nearly female appearance, resulting in a rather ample bosom for the man.
Now, he was very large indeed, a still too drunk to comprehend it. Thomas looked over his meter-wide hips and 600 pound body with a kind of confusion, though not really able to understand that he was fattening up into a blimp. He just pinched and prodded at the chub, chuckling even as his face sank into his flabby neck. Jowls like flour bags formed around his cheeks, while a double chin was quickly joined by a triple chin. Grinning dopily, he pinched at his cheeks together.
While he did so, the pants that were somehow still stretched around his simply huge behind started to change colour. They bleached, loosing their blue hue to become white, as if all the colour was being stretched out of them. Within a few seconds, they had shifted to white, before the very fabric itself started to change. Nylon became thick cotton, the style shifting into a rather large pair of cotton Y-fronts that bulged as the young man’s genital area swelled with both length and girth, a prominent lump forming, squished between his legs as he grew even more virile.


As it did so, his face underwent subtle changes. The fur around his double chin experienced a spurt of rabid growth, bulging outwards into a short, carefully manicured beard for the puma, while his underarm and pubic fur underwent a similar spurt, growing thicker and older, a long strip running up his belly to his deep navel. His eyes grew lined, but twinkled with a roguish charm, while the tips of his hair and jowls became lined with a few streaks of grey. No longer was he simply a young man, he was a man, and one of experience.
Thomas gave a yawn, stretching his fangs wide, before giving his stomach a rub. His mind didn’t feel clouded any more. He wasn’t drunk. Slightly tipsy after some wine, perhaps, but not drunk. He didn’t even notice the room starting to shift and change around him, as he started to waddle off towards the bedroom, yearning for some sleep, the glass still perched atop his nose.



Jane awoke with a yawn and rubbed at her gravid stomach, feeling her fingers slip through the fur around her baby belly. She felt….warm. She couldn’t quite describe it, but she had some sort of good feeling. One that she couldn’t put a finger on why.
Though, as she opened her eyes, expecting to see Thomas crashed out on the floor, having finally stumbled back home, she gasped.
She wasn’t in their bedroom, with its tacky posters and cheap paintings in an attempt to brighten it up. Nor was she in their double bed, something that they’d gotten extra cheap at a Swedish furniture store, with its thin sheets.
Her expectant body was languishing in her bra and panties atop a thick, soft mattress and a set of warm cotton sheets. The bed was now a queen sized brass one, with cast frames and a headboard lined with fluffy pillows. Wherever she looked, the cream walls that she was used to where gone, replaced by a muted scarlet wallpaper, alongside a few classical paintings: nude women languishing upon river banks on in ancient harems, warships coming into harbour, or men in armour standing atop battlefields. And the books….my there was a lot of them. In between the wardrobes and dressers where thick shelves, stuffed with all manner of tomes and dissertations that seemed endless. Ranging from antique works to recent compendiums and papers.
“What the fuck?” she gasped, looking about in shock. Had she been kidnapped? Or had something happened to their house? Had someone come in and taken her while she was asleep and Thomas was gone?
Panic rose within her as she looked about, sitting up and moving to slide out of the sheets. Though as she did so, she caught sight of something that made her heart stop.
It was ….Thomas. In a photograph…. Except it wasn’t. This was Thomas, if he’d aged more than ten or fifteen years…and grown huge. The puma was massive, bloated with fat to the degree that he resembled a round ball. A tweed suit was stretched over him, so tightly that it looked like the skin on a balloon. And his face….it was older. Reserved, with greying tips, a carefully clipped beard and that same pair of thick glasses upon his nose. But how could this be him?

Thomas Roch, was a muscular history student! Not some aged, obese history profess-
She stopped, her face contorted in an expression of confusion, before her find suddenly fogged over. There were….memories that the canine girl was seeing.

How she’d arrived at collage to take her English course, living in some crummy apartment. How one of her friends who did history kept gushing about the gentleman professor who took her class. How he was kind, funny and quite the whiz to talk to. She didn’t believe that all the girls in the class could crush on him, especially when she heard the stories of how he was so fat, but she attended one of his lectures… and he was. A smooth, deep voice. Those eyes, equally deep with a kind of cavalier charm to them as he lectured upon the English civil war. His passion and charm, seemed to resonate right across the chamber.
Her friend had even introduced her to professor Roch, right afterwards. He smiled at her, looking over those thick glasses in that crazy way he did it, making her feel giddy despite herself. How he was glad that someone of a different degree could take such an interest.
He had even asked her for coffee.., they’d actually gone out together. He’d given her advice, help on papers and work. She’d done work for him, helped him at archives. He started to invite her round to his home after classes. Jane had accepted of course. He was just so charismatic and lovely. He made he feel warm inside.
Coffee turned to dinner….and then that one night. The warmth of his plush bed, his crooning voice in her ears, his plush softness as his fat pressed against her. How she let him push inside and kissed her tight.
When she found out she was pregnant, she came straight to him. She’d wept and he’d held her. In that same gentle voice, he told her how he’d help, how he wouldn’t abandon her. Child support would all be sorted.
The Dean was furious. But Thomas had managed to use the technicality that he didn’t actually teach her, to keep his job. Jane kept her class, but as she felt her body change and swell with pregnancy, she was the biggest news on the campus. How the professor had gotten one of his students pregnant. At times it was shameful, others she went with it. But Jane didn’t stop seeing him. He wanted to keep her close. And she wanted to be close with him.

She hadn’t even thought twice when she had moved out of her flat and into his rooms. They were a thing now, despite the sage difference and situation. She was taken to dinners and seminars with him, introduced to others as his girlfriend.

All the memories….they were real….and true. He hadn’t been out drinking last night! Never! They’d shared a dinner together then huddled up in his armchair as he read her pages of Austen in that silky smooth voice of his, her hands sinking into his copious fat as he hugged her tightly, his own hands stroking her hair and feeling her fully belly. It had been glorious…
Softly, she got to her feet and padded towards the door, out into a hall lined with more paintings, framed photographs and the occasional antique, to the scent of cooking eggs and bacon at the kitchen.
She stepped through the door to see the hob sizzling, a pan resting atop it. At the table sat Thomas. His vastness was contained in a tight shirt, buttoned up across the enormity of his round figure and protruding gut. He seemed to bulge over the chair, his wideness eating it up, as great folds of fat hung off the rim. Over his shirt, he’d slipped on the waistcoat that would make up part of his suit, buttons straining to hold his pendulous moobs and stomach in check.
Thomas looked up from his meal and gave a small smile, his eyes gazing at her from over his spectacles, perched upon his snout.
“Darling” he crooned “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to give you the displeasure of being woken early” he cast a fat paw over at the sizzling pan “So I have some eggs and bacon ready and waiting”
“Thanks hun” she chuckled, waddling over. The immense feline tipped his head upwards the two kissed each other, before Jane grabbed a plate and tipped her breakfast onto it, before sitting down beside him.
“Got much work today?” she asked, cutting into her bacon rashers.
Thomas delicately spooned a fork of egg into his mouth, before dabbing at it with a napkin and saying. “Yes my dear, a two hour lecture before lunch, followed by a study group and seminar after. Quite a lot to get through, I must say”
“Sounds like it. Are you free for lunch?”
“Of course I am” he nodded “I’ll meet you by the riverbank. There’s an excellent new bistro that I happen to come across. I’m sure you’ll find it most delectable”
“Of course” she giggled, in between bites “Since when has your knowledge of food disappointed me?”
“Never” he chuckled, stroking at his beard. “I’m just that good”

They finished their breakfast and Thomas eased his fame up with a grunt and a creak of relief from his chair. He turned and helped Jane off her, before they shared another kiss.
“You should be getting dressed darling” he told her softly, rubbing her protruding womb. “I’m pretty sure you have classes too”

“Yeah” she nodded, before asking shyly “Do you still wanna walk down with me?”
The older man sighed and pulled her in for a hug. Jane found herself sinking into his morass of warm flab, her face pressing against his swollen breasts as he held her close.
“Of course” he told her “I love you, my dear Jane. I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and that baby is mine. I want you to be with me dear. I don’t want to shy away from this. There’s a responsibility I must take here. To take care of you and our baby”

Jane nodded, and felt her eyes prick with tears. She hugged him back, tightly as he massaged at her sore back, the two swaying together as she held onto the massive puma.
“I’m so lucky I have you” she whispered.

“My darling” cooed the bloated professor. “I think you’ll find I’m the lucky one”