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What luck, you think to yourself as you finish packing your suitcase for the upcoming business trip. Your condition had not made an appearance this month...perhaps it was an anomaly. Whatever it was is now out of your system for good.

You buttoned up your pants easily. The shirt followed, then the waistcoat and blazer. They fit well, having been specifically tailored to your measurements. While not required to dress nicely for the plane ride, the conference schedule kicked off very soon after arrival, so you thought it best to just wear these clothes on board.

It wasn't a very long flight, only about five hours. You felt stiff when you land, but that was probably due to the plane ride. After you arrive, you quickly dropped off your luggage and began the first of many long meetings. With little room to stretch during the day, your muscles all ached.

By the end of the day, you retreated into your room, turning the shower on hot before you even undressed. And then finally....you breathed a big sigh of relief. Every muscle in your body seemed to relax. Slowly, you hung up all your clothes, picking out your pajamas and moving to the shower. You looked down to see yourself looking a bit bloated. Nothing to be concerned about probably, just a consequence of the plane ride and the long day of meetings. It would go away on its own.

The shower was heavenly, and the bed even more so. You must have been really tired because you barely even seemed to notice that it was an unfamiliar bed, not like yours at home at all. You slept deeply.

The next morning you picked out a new outfit off the hangers and quickly put it on. It felt a bit tight around the waist, but you put that down to still being a bit bloated from the night before. You grabbed a coffee and helped yourself to the complementary breakfast the hotel offers. For whatever reason, you felt hungrier than usual and ate several helpings.

Your day proceeded very similarly to the previous one. You sat through several long meetings, giving the occasional presentation. The bloated feeling did not diminish. If anything, your belly feels slightly tighter when the day was done than when it had just started. Still, you think, it was explainable. You had probably just eaten enough to leave you bloated, that was all.

You managed to live in this denial until you return to your hotel room late after your third day. Truly, given the hour, it was technically very early on your fourth day. It had been a Friday night, and you and your coworkers had thankfully been given the weekend off.

When you returned in the early hours of that fourth day, you found that you had been subconsciously sucking in your belly all day long. You hadn't even realized you had been doing it. Even sucked in, you felt that the waistband of your pants is digging in.

Frowning curiously, you forced yourself to relax, to stop holding it in. Instantly, the waistband dug into you more tightly. It was almost as though your belly had just surged forward, a petite bump that stretched your pants out. You quickly unbuttoned the pants and breathed deeply for a few seconds, realization flooding your system.

Well, fuck.

How were you supposed to explain this to anyone? Who would have even heard of such a thing? You didn't even know if your condition had a name. You showered quickly, mulling your options over, and practically fell into bed.

You could call in with a sudden but severe case of the flu, you think. This idea left your head quickly though. You were in close enough proximity to the rest of the conference that rumors of influenza may affect them.

Try as hard as you might, you could not come up with a good excuse before sleep claimed you. You did not sleep dreamlessly tonight. Instead, you dreamed about trying to explain all this to your coworkers, your belly swollen and bursting out of the only clothes you packed with you. They call you a fat cow as you waddle between conference rooms. They put their hands on your tight, ballooning belly without asking, telling you that they thought they could feel babies kicking even though you know well enough by now that there are no actual babies inside. Eventually, you were forced to attend conferences in clothes that do not fit right at all, and when you sit down, several buttons flew off right in front of your coworkers, leaving you sitting in a mess that only existed because you got so massive on the job.

You woke up late on Saturday, having slept in on one of your days off. You woke up flat on your back, and when you look down, you could swear that your belly looks even bigger than it did before. It wasn't enormous, not yet, but it would only be getting bigger from here on out. You glared at the swell mutinously.

Normally, you were able to somewhat enjoy the experience. The swelling—slow enough that you might not notice at first but fast enough that it becomes noticeable quickly—always rounded you out in such a delicious way. You always enjoyed the weight, the tight feeling as your belly domed and stretched your skin thin. Normally, however, you could enjoy the experience in the privacy of your own home, not in the middle of a work conference.

You don't leave the room on Saturday, nor do you on Sunday. You ordered room service and open the door wrapped in the biggest robe the hotel provided. As a temporary measure, it hid the growing mass well from anyone else.

By this point, the truth was undeniable. Anyone else would assume you were pregnant, perhaps even with twins. Your center of gravity had shifted. Your belly protruded off of your front.

Perhaps this outfit would work for tomorrow, you tell yourself. Maybe no one would notice if you walk with confidence. You looked at yourself in a mirror, pressing your belly in with one hand. It didn't make a difference.

On Monday morning, you made up your mind and call in sick. You had still not touched the clothes you packed, living instead in pajamas and that robe. You didn't hear much from anyone that day. Instead, you carefully picked through your wardrobe, hoping that past you had decided to pack at least one item that was stretchy. No luck. You tried each item on one by one, but none of your pants would button over your 7-month belly. You sucked in as much as you can, but your belly remains a large dome stuck on your front, almost as though you had swallowed a watermelon. You quickly buttoned up a shirt and relaxed. The buttons gaped threateningly. It seemed as though every scrap of fabric on your body creaked at the seams. You didn't even bother trying to button up a waistcoat or blazer.

You heard a knock on your door not long after. Thinking it must be room service again, you opened it, hiding your bulk behind the door.

Unfortunately, it was not room service. Instead it was one of your coworkers, the one you wwre closest to. He was a man a couple years older than you, his hair thinning and just beginning to gray.

He greeted you with a sympathetic smile, but before he can even say your name, his eyes dropped to your middle, widening into saucers. His jaw fell open for a moment, but then he closed it quickly as soon as it registered he was being rude.

Before he can say another word, you pulled him in and closed the door behind you. Then you slumped over in a chair. You could feel a button pop off your shirt where you are the widest, but you'd stopped caring.

"Are you doing okay?"

That was the only thing you need to hear before you started spilling the entire story to him. He was surprisingly patient—after all, he was your favorite for a reason. He listened without judgment and only sympathy.

After you finished, he stood. "Wait here. I will be right back."

"Gregor—" you were cut off as he quickly left the room. What was it you were going to say? Don't leave me right after I share my secrets with you? Please don't tell anyone?

Luckily, he was back in a matter of moments. In his hands was a different outfit, one of his. "These will probably be a better fit," he held a hand out and heaved you to your feet. "Did you want to try them on?"

Almost numb, it was all you can do to nod. You squeezed yourself out of your own clothes, relieved to no longer hear the fabric creaking and wondering if you would be able to find the lost button, and examined the gifted clothes. On a normal day, they would certainly be too big for you, but now....

The buttons all closed easily. You looked at yourself in the mirror again. Still pregnant looking, but less ridiculous now that you weren't exploding out of your clothes. You all but wept your thanks at Gregory.

The next day, you followed quickly behind Gregory, hoping no one would look too closely at you. You didn't want to call in sick again. Your belly had swollen even more overnight, the borrowed clothing covering you so tightly they may as well be a second skin. You waddled awkwardly and all but collapsed into your seat.

Your coworkers, and other people you were all meeting with, noticed immediately despite your best wishes. You tried to breathe deeply to calm yourself, but your belly had gotten so big, round, and heavy that you could barely suck in a breath deep enough. Most of them were staring at you in confusion and concern, but you could sense the lust behind some of their gazes.

"Can we please continue?" You panted, your hands on either side of your belly as though that may alleviate some of your discomfort.

"What happ—"

"Did something happen?"

"You got huge since Friday!"

Gregory cleared his throat next to you, glaring at those who had spoken up. "Has everyone here forgotten their common decency?"

"But—"

"Did you not get the pregnancy announcement? Months ago?" He pat the armrest of your chair reassuringly.

"Months ago? No, that's not possible...."

"Pregnancy?!"

"But they were flat on Friday..."

"No, they weren't." Gregory made a confused face. "Did you not notice?"

Relief flooded your system as it seems that everyone else in the room began doubting their memories. To them, maybe you had been pregnant the whole time...

The issue was, you weren't. What were you going to say in a few days time when you were suddenly flat again? You look up at your friend. The glint in his eyes suggested that they were going to be lying their way out of that one too.

And so, the meeting progressed as usual, though you attracted far too many stares to be comfortable. Not that you would be comfortable anyway—the meeting lasted several hours, and you were sitting in a flimsy office chair. In that time, you could feel your belly balloon outwards even more, straining against the buttons of Gregory's larger shirt. You did your best to suck it in.

You weren't sure why they believed Gregory. You were pretty sure there was a rule of some sort about really pregnant people not flying in airplanes, so you simply couldn't have been this huge back then. But here you were.

In the last quarter of the meeting, you brought your chair as close as you could get it to the table. Your belly hit it, making the whole thing jostle back and forth. You blushed a deep red and offered apologies as people looked at you. Still, the table was too far away.

You slipped your hand underneath your belly, fighting with the straining button of your pants. It would be impolite to rip these when you were only borrowing them. It took about a minute to pry the button free off your huge, tight belly. Immediately, your belly sank a bit, released from the confines of the pants. You tried to be casual as you looped a rubber band through the button hole and fastened them that way, but you weren't successful.

After a long day, you slowly waddle back to your room. Your hips and your back ache, your legs forced apart by the size of the mass on your front.

Several of your coworkers had asked what sex the baby was going to be. It had hurt you to tell them that you were waiting to be surprised, knowing that the surprise would never come. There wasn't a real baby in there. The pseudo-pregnancy did not bother you, but you did often wonder what it would be like if it were real, if there was a real baby inside of you. You weren't sure if you would ever find out.

You only grew more massive overnight. It was a struggle to get out of bed. You rolled around helplessly on your back for several minutes like a beached whale before somehow finding the strength to kick yourself into a sitting position. Another deep breath and a heave and you're on your feet, though you stopped being able to see them days ago.

There was a dark line down the middle of your belly. Your belly button had popped at some point, unable to remain an innie with how big and round you had gotten. All the skin on your belly tingled with how taut it was.

Putting on your borrowed clothing was even more of a hassle today. You were tempted to just call in sick again, but you didn't want to miss anything important. You shimmy your pajama pants off—even as stretchy as they are, they had ceased to fit you long ago. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, you awkwardly reach to the side to bring the pants up. You would never be able to reach them if you went straight down over your belly.

It took nearly an hour for you to dress yourself. At the end of it, you are left panting and exhausted in the bathroom. Your shoes are untied, simply tucked into the sides; you doubted anyone would notice. Despite your best efforts, you look disheveled.

You got even more stares that day than the previous. Truly, you looked and felt like you would pop at any moment. Your belly was firm and low, without any bit of give to it at all. It was almost like you had swallowed a large ball whole.

Your shirt was untucked, but you didn't care. Actually, most of it was unbuttoned, leaving the largest, roundest part of your body exposed. You found you didn't care about that either...once you got big enough, you always stopped giving a damn about the small details.

Existing was exhausting. You would much rather go back to your hotel room and sleep until it was all over, but you didn't want to get up either now that you say down. The chair looked almost comically small in comparison to the huge ballooning belly you had grown over the last few days.

You can feel your insides sloshing again, as though trying to find more room inside your body. Your were confident there was none, that your belly couldn't possibly get any bigger, but then you watched as right before your eyes your circumference seemed to increase by at least two inches. As soon as it stopped, you exhaled deeply, suddenly sweating. Your belly now touched the table where it hadn't moments ago. The armrests of the chair dug into your sides, and you hoped you hadn't just gotten stuck.

You squirmed around in your seat, testing your mobility, but even in a chair without armrests you would have been pinned down by the added weight you had grown into.

You had grown such a big belly, didn't you? All round and heavy, perhaps bigger than any belly you had ever had before. For some reason, you feel a hint of pride at this. It continued as people stared at what a big, waddling cow you had become.

You only got out of the chair when it was just you and Gregory. He pulled you to your feet, and the chair, wedged on either side of your belly came with. He ended up having to pull you up by your hands while pushing the chair away with his foot to pry it off.

The journey back to your room was slow. You couldn't help but wish this one was real. It was easier to let go when no one else saw it, but now? People have been asking questions. It felt more real than ever before, which is why it hurt to know that it wasn't.

Your water breaks on the tenth day. You called in sick as you staggered over to the bathroom, trying not to make a big mess. Slowly, your belly began to deflate, all the liquid inside of you trickling out. You pushed every now and then, but for the most part, you were tired enough to let things take their time.

By the end of the day, you were empty again. Your clothes fit again. Indeed, it was almost as though you had never blown up so big in the first place.