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Description: Charlotte, a pregnant bitchy Beyre has a dream about expanding and sexually dominating her quiet pushover employee Ethan, after hearing him vent during a night out.

When she wakes up, she only has one thing on her mind, to dominate and provide for Ethan.

Tags: Expansion, pregnancy, dominance, submission, popping, mommy Dom, fantasizing.

"Fucking… sometimes I work on these windracers and think maybe the Vikeans have a point, you know?"

Ethan was halfway through his second Yatooni Boska. It usually took him three to start talking violence, but it had been a very hot day and he hadn’t had nearly enough water.

Jacob’s Spot was the usual pit of smoke and music, smooth jazz greasing what alcohol couldn’t. Half star pilots, half lowlifes - the whole clientele was escaping something, be it a haul deadline or a court date.

Ethan and Charlotte were seeking refuge from a particularly sweltering outdoors. It was one of those long summer days where the twin suns blazed like eyes that didn’t close until well into what was nevertheless still chronologically the evening. There had been no immediate projects that day. Ethan had deep-cleaned the garage for the second time in a very slow week, and the air conditioning system was busted.

So Charlotte had closed the shop early and taken Ethan out drinking somewhere cool - even though her pregnancy forced her to be the sober one. She was strict and demanding, but when the stars aligned, she could be generous.

But if Ethan insisted on being maudlin, any drinks after this one were coming out of his pay.

“Like, seriously, how do you drive around for months without noticing a pest wrapped around your actuator? That thing was practically carbonized!”

“Hey, at least I charged that dumbass extra,” Charlotte reminded Ethan. “Those things already don’t swap easy. Ow.” She winced and put a hand on her belly to calm her youngling. It was straining even her loosest silks now, pushing her navel into a rough convex bump on the tight, smooth surface of her blue abdomen.

Ethan sighed in that way he’d perfected - that heavy exhale that Charlotte could hear from her office, even over the blast of a hand torch. It had to be a human thing. She’d never known another Beyre that expected someone to pay attention to them by just sounding mopey. You were up front with your problems or you dealt with them yourself.

But the thing about talking to a drunk human was that they could never be convinced that they were wrong. That way lay madness. So Charlotte reached across the table and patted Ethan’s hand before he could raise his tankard again. “Hey. Wanna talk about it?”

He did his best to look surprised - and, hell, the way she treated him, part of him probably was. “It’s just… that kid of yours is lucky, you know?” He tapped his fingers idly on his tankard’s handle. “Stable business. Hardworking mom. Sure, it’s a hot summer to be born into, but…” He ground the heel of his hand into one eye, then the other. “I don’t know. You just seem like the kind of mom who would find shade in the desert for your kid. I didn’t really have that growing up.”

He shook his head. “Don’t listen to me. This is unprofessional as fuck.”

“Hey.” Charlotte caught Ethan’s wrist mid-gulp. He raised one eyebrow, frozen waiting for a response he hadn’t quite anticipated.

“Why don’t I cut you off before you see someone that reminds you of your father?”

Ethan leaned his head back for a final gulp and set his tankard down with a heavy clank. “Don’t even get me started on that bastard…”

–

Charlotte was still thinking about Ethan’s checkered past as she typed at her work console. Absent mother, abusive father - she’d been right to cut him off after two drinks, given his family history. No wonder he was such a quiet pushover in the garage. He’d grown up his entire life waiting for someone to slap him for speaking out of turn.

She’d never slapped him. Hadn’t needed to. Oh, she’d thought about it when he’d fallen asleep on the job the other day. But everyone had a limit, and she didn’t know where in the city she’d find another human with as comprehensive a knowledge of windracer engines as Ethan.

The front door ground open and slammed closed in that way it had. One of these days she’d have to shell out to get it fixed. Charlotte’s baby shifted in her belly, startled by a sound it had no idea about, and she winced as she stood up from her chair to crane her neck.

Sure enough it was Ethan, tiptoeing in fifteen minutes after his shift’s start as quiet as he could manage, as if the door hadn’t alerted Charlotte to his presence. She set her jaw and lumbered out to give him a piece of her mind.

It wasn’t the sneaking in late that bothered her. It was the sheer stupidity of trying to get away with it. “Damn it, Ethan, I take you out for one night and this is how you–”

Ethan whirled, nearly knocking over the engine he’d hauled out into the furthest bay. He was about to stammer some goofy apology, but something froze his mouth open.

That annoyed Charlotte even more. Now he just looked as dumb as he was acting. “What? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Uh…” Ethan attempted, pointing. “You've got something on your… on your top.”

“What the–” It was then that Charlotte felt a spreading wetness on the sheer silk that was straining to contain her chest. Her blue cheeks darkened, half angry, half embarrassed to be leaking - and so early in her third trimester.

They both noticed it at the same time. As she covered herself with one arm, Charlotte’s skimpy silk wrap hugged her tighter. She drew in a deep breath and almost immediately let it out, a slow ripping sound taking her by surprise. The silk was tearing under her arm, tightening, squeezing more milk from her breasts.

What was going on? This stuff was supposed to be stretchy for her pregnancy.

Charlotte looked down, her anger briefly forgotten. Her cleavage yawned back at her, deeper and longer than she’d ever seen it. Her breasts were starting to spill over the fabric, and flesh was visibly straining and overflowing it more with each passing second.

She tried to deflect with a glare and an admonition. “What are you staring at? Get back to–” But with an almighty rip, the silk gave way, letting her swelling breasts jiggle free. The fabric clung to her for a few seconds, then drifted to the ground, revealing black nipples wet with milk and dribbling more little white droplets.

When Charlotte covered her chest and tried to stammer out a snappish explanation, apology, scolding, anything, she noticed that her arms were bigger around than usual - flabbier, thicker, rippling gently as with some interior force teasing motion from within her.

Ethan was staring, but Charlotte’s modesty was forgotten. She felt pressure from inside her rising up in beneath every square inch of skin. Staggering back nearly tripped her over as her center of gravity shifted, making her flesh shiver all over as she adjusted to stay upright.

“I– this– I don’t–” For once Charlotte was speechless. Her baby was kicking and rolling wildly, making her stomach deform and bulge as it pushed against her womb, but even those movements were starting to disappear into the expanding bulk of her stomach. Her thighs were thickening, her hips accumulating fat, stretching her lower silks with an echo of the mysterious death of her top.

Even her pussy was getting fat, swelling up between her broadening thighs like blood-ant-bit lips. Not that she needed to worry too much about her modesty - the fat piling onto her stomach was hiding her crotch as quickly as it could inflate.

It was then that she noticed that she was looking down on Ethan; whatever was making her wider was making her taller, expanding her all around as her body gradually grew more spherical. Just as well for the human mechanic; staring at her was putting an obvious tent in his pants that Charlotte was increasingly unable to see over her burgeoning bust. Within seconds she was unable to see Ethan at all.

Even her ears were blocked as her tails puffed up, her senses giving way to the mass of her own blue flesh that was swallowing her. Her whole world was sensation, pressure, sloshing inside her as milk filled her expanding breasts, not to mention her baby working out in her uterus.

As her body closed up around her vision, Charlotte became aware of a strange suction somewhere on the front of her body. An electric shock coursed through her and into her core, identifying the origin as her sensitive, swollen nipple. Something small and moist was latched on to it, drawing milk out in the first release of pressure she’d felt since she started swelling.

It was Ethan, of course - had to be - having found a nipple and started suckling for dear life. Who knew if he’d even survive this ordeal, hugging Charlotte’s breast and drinking her milk until he was smothered on all sides by her boob, perhaps even crushed against the wall as she filled the garage.

The idea was making her insanely wet.

Charlotte leaned forward, shuffling on knees she could no longer discern, inching Ethan closer and closer to the wall. She’d noticed Ethan looking at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, especially as her pregnancy had swollen her into new frontiers of flab and roundness.

This was what he wanted? This is what he’d get.

“You like me like this, don’t you?” Charlotte rumbled, her voice echoing through her rolls, felt more than heard. “You like being aaall wrapped up in Mommy. Stuffed between her boobs, suckling like a good boy.”

A little pulling sensation at her nipple, up and down, signaled Ethan’s affirmative response.

“That’s right. Drink my milk. Get fat off my Byere milk, and one day you can be as big as Mommy...”

Charlotte had found her footing again, planted her feet on the ground if only to lean forward. Thank goodness her ankles and calves had bloated, or else she’d lose her balance and slip on a floor growing steadily wetter with her juices. “You’re making me so wet, you know. Small and weak and hungry for Mommy’s milk… You don’t need your old mommy and daddy… I could keep you here forever and give you everything… you… need.”

If Ethan was hard, if he was cumming somewhere on her stomach or her leg, Charlotte couldn’t tell. She didn’t need to tell. Ethan’s life, his senses, all revolved around Charlotte, the flesh of his boss embracing him in her warm, wet folds. It was the next best thing to being the baby in her womb, encased in her skin and milk and cum as she grew and grew and grew.

“You like this, don’t you Ethan? You can’t seem to help yourself. I look beautiful, don’t I? And you cannot keep your eyes of me.” She teased, growing more and more comfortable with her enlarged body.

Charlotte felt large and in charge. She felt powerful, strong, massive, and she was all these things, but there was a vibrant sexual vibe that seemed to echo through her flabby, expanding, bloating body.

Her flesh engulfed Ethan even more, “I am your Mommy now, and don’t you ever forget it. You are going to be mine, now and forever. Don’t you even think about saying no, because Mommy, well, Mommy won’t let you, I won’t give you the choice. You are my new little baby boy and I am your Mommy. And if you don’t like it, I can always just send you to your room without dinner.”

She chuckled, her body expanded more and more with each terribly long passing moment.

She didn’t care. She wanted to get bigger, she wanted to get thicker, she wanted to because it made her feel so alive and in charge and just so fucking wet. And the way that Ethan looked at her, how he melted in her hands, just as much as his form melted into her rapidly plushing flesh rolls, it was intoxicating.

The taboo of it was enhanced by the other. She grew larger, he got smaller, she felt more a Mommy, he more a child. All bundled together in one heated shot of desire and lust.

Until her head brushed the ceiling. Until she started to shiver and pop and ripple inside. Until she finally burst in this final, beautiful act of love and devotion to her little human boy.

–

Charlotte woke up to soaked sheets, her breasts leaking milk and her pussy leaking cum. She rolled over and wrapped herself in the driest part of her blanket she could find.

What had that been? Why had she dreamed of breastfeeding her hapless employee - and why had she… popped? What could that have meant?

She stared up at the ceiling, letting the mechanical scent of the garage drift up from below her apartment, pull her back into the waking world. The baby stirred in her belly, and as she rubbed it gently with both hands, she thought back to Ethan’s venting at the cantina. She’d never known him to go out alone, never been all that interested in what he got up to outside of work… and maybe he didn’t get up to much of anything. Maybe she was all he had.

And if that was the case… well, everyone needed someone. And who better than someone he’d been looking longingly at for months? Someone who’d relieve her aches and pressures as she soothed his… and who would be happy to do exactly as she asked.

Charlotte patted her heavily pregnant stomach. She knew what she had to do. Not because she wanted too, though she did want to, but because she needed to. That dream hadn’t just popped her, it had exploded a wide window of sordid sensual possibilities that she never even knew existed before.

But now that she knew, she knew and could never forget. She wasn’t just a Mother to be. No, she was a mother. A mother to all those guys would there who needed it. She wanted to be in charge, in charge of them, in charge of everything. To use her gifted and expanded body, to wield it deftly and with confidence and sexual precision.