Prose That Blows

The Curious Case of Wendy’s Pregnancy, by notsosupersaiyan

THE CURIOUS CASE OF WENDY’S PREGNANCY

by notsosupersaiyan

Runner-up: Funniest Story

Wendy took deep, slow, breaths, trying to steel herself for the task at hand.  All she wanted to do was sit inside with the curtains drawn, safe from the prying eyes of her curious neighbors.  But the newspapers had piled up by the dozens at the end of her driveway, and she knew they’d attract burglars unless she took care of them.  And going outside presented profound challenges in her current state.

Wendy suffered from a bizarre and vexing condition.  After a drunken one-night stand, she had found herself expecting a child.  Wendy had never been pregnant before, but she didn’t expect to gain so much weight so fast.  She’d buy herself a whole new set of clothes and underwear, and a week later none of them fit anymore.  She’d been counting her calories carefully, and nothing could account for how quickly she was growing.  By the time Wendy was two months along, her petite, pixie-like body had ballooned big enough to be well into her third trimester, with no sign of slowing down.  The real stunner, though, was that far from putting on pounds, she discovered she was actually losing weight!

Her doctor’s visits had ultimately proved fruitless.  After being shuttled between specialist after specialist, all she learned was that her body was filling up with some sort of lighter-than-air gas.  None of them could figure out the cause, and as for treatment, the general consensus seemed to be to wait and see what happened after she had the baby.  That had been six long months ago.  Six months of her breasts, belly, and butt blowing up bigger, and bigger, and bigger, of outgrowing one shirt and pair of pants after another, of her panties ripping apart before she got them halfway up her hips, of having to exert every ounce of strength she had just to squeeze in and out of the shower stall.  Three months of watching her weight trickle down to 75 pounds, followed by three months of guessing because she couldn’t read the scale around her bulge.  At this point, Wendy estimated that her unborn child weighed more than she did.  This might be her last opportunity to get outside before she couldn’t keep herself grounded anymore.

Clothes would be the first difficulty.  After ransacking her bedroom, laundry room, attic, and basement, Wendy found a total of two items of clothing that could conceivably fit her.  A pair of black Spandex bike shorts creaked ominously as she pulled them over her hips and ass.  They stretched out so much that they looked more like boyshort briefs, but they held together.  A matching tube top wouldn’t quite fit over her voluminous bosom, even at maximum stretch.  By squishing her boobs down against the wall, she was eventually able to get the back closed.  Of course, deflation of one part of herself always came at the expense of the growth of another; Wendy could shift the gas around her body, but could never seem to actually force it out entirely.  She felt her belly and butt expand slightly, testing the limits of her pants.

The next challenge would be fitting through her front door.  Walking straight through was a non-starter — her hips were simply too wide to clear the doorframe, and trying to force them through would no doubt tear her stretched-out shorts to shreds.  When she tried to sidle through sideways, her belly and bubble butt got in the way.  Borrowing a trick she used in the shower stall, Wendy pulled hard on her abdomen, squashing it in with all her might.  She felt her navel scrape against the wood as she slowly slid toward freedom.  Too late did Wendy remember that the gas she displaced would migrate to higher ground.  A heart-stopping noise announced that her protruding nipples had torn through the thin fabric.  A split second later, she popped through, and her body quickly returned to equilibrium, but the damage had been done — tears begat more tears, and within seconds her top lay in tatters at her feet.

Wendy did her best to cover her enormous chest with her slender arms as she frantically looked around.  Fortunately, the sleepy suburb was mostly vacant during the day.  It didn’t appear that anyone was around to see her in this exposed state, and since cramming herself back through the door wouldn’t be any easier the second time around, she decided to just do what she came out here for.

At the end of her driveway, Wendy encountered her third challenge: bending over.  Balance was tricky in her condition; the weight of her baby shifted her center of gravity far in front of her feet.  Leaning forward threatened to topple her onto her belly, which she wasn’t sure she could get back up from.  Instead, she tried to squat down, but found that her swollen stomach collided with her zaftig thighs before she made it halfway to the ground.  Again she hugged her gut, compressing it as she crouched down toward the pile of papers.  Her breasts ballooned bigger in response, but she’d gotten quite used to that at this point.  What Wendy didn’t realize was that she was also forcing gas into her hips and backside.

It started with a barely-audible *snap* and a draft at her crotch.  The rip quickly ran down her inner thighs and up her lengthy butt crack, and before she knew it, her last line of defense against public nudity was drifting away on a light breeze.  Wendy squatted there, as still as a statue, paralyzed by fear, as she waited for her brain to unfreeze and hand her a few suggestions.

Before she could think of what to do, a gust of wind sailed into her back, upsetting her precarious balance.  Wendy found herself flopping belly-down on the ground like a beached whale.  Moments later, another stiff breeze came along, strong enough to push her off her driveway and onto the street!  Wendy slid on the curve of her tumescent belly, desperately pawing at the asphalt as she tried to slow herself down.  Ahead of her was a busy street, and she knew she’d be roadkill if she couldn’t stop in time.

Her grasping hands found purchase, but not enough to overcome her momentum.  Instead, she tilted up into a handstand, presenting her entire body to the wind.  Wendy screamed as she was plucked off the ground, flipping end-over-end before her pregnant belly stabilized her face-down.  Her breath caught in her throat as the currents carried her over the bustling intersection, where a passing tractor-trailer generated an updraft that lofted her even higher.  Picking up speed, she flew into a nearby roof.  Its slanted surface acted as a ramp, launching her still higher into the air.

Once she passed the treeline, it was all over.  Unfettered by obstacles, the full strength of the wind enveloped her in its airy grip.  Its force against the slope of her underbelly trapped her in a continuous upward climb.  Wendy could only wail futile cries for help as her naked body was borne faster and higher, until it disappeared over the horizon.

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