Actions

Work Header

Decadent

Work Text:

Rhys stared sourly down at the box of chocolates in his hand as he walked away from Jack’s office. It was gaudily wrapped in Hyperion yellow with a fat black bow tied around it and a tag that read “To Exports Directors, From your main man, Handsome Jack.” Just reading that, written in Jack’s thick looping script, made his spine tingle with annoyance.

He’d been working like a dog all week, and Jack had just kept piling more and more work on him. Then a deal with Torgue about mines down on Pandora had nearly fallen through, and Rhys had been called in to supplement Jack on crowd control. And then the cherry on top of the shit sundae plopped into place when Exports sent out a shipment of faulty guns that had resulted in some seriously pissed off—and dead—crucial buyers.

And yet here Jack was sending frikkin’ gifts down to the very department that had screwed up so royally? And Rhys hadn’t even gotten a pat on the back, much less a kiss or a cursory fuck against the desk that he’d come to expect from his boss. Nothing. Nada.

Frustration grasped at his exhausted brain, and he decided to screw it, because he deserved something nice, and if Jack wasn’t going to give it to him than he was just going to take it.

He ripped at a corner of the packaging, revealing the sleek black box underneath, the top of which was quickly discarded to the floor. Rhys’ eyes scanned greedily over the chocolates underneath—a colorful array of large truffles with a nice mix of dark, milk, and white chocolate. Some were streaked in pretty confectionery swirls, others coated in chopped nuts or coconut. All tickled him right in the sweet teeth. He picked out one milk chocolate one covered in pistachio and popped it in his mouth, groaning as he chewed luxuriantly. Screw it, he’d take whatever punishment Jack would give him, if he ever found out. Knowing Jack, he probably wouldn’t even check that they had been delivered and just trusted Rhys’ word on it.

He’d finished off at least half of the fancy chocolates before his stomach interrupted with a loud gurgle. Rhys stopped, swallowing down the squishy chocolate still in his mouth before putting a hand on his stomach. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing. Maybe he’d overdone it a little bit in his eagerness to indulge after a rough day. Queasiness was brewing in his stomach, and he swayed a little on his feet. Rhys took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stamp down the nausea, when suddenly he felt his stomach seize inside of him, and he dropped the box of chocolates, moaning in discomfort as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. He could feel his gut starting to roil, pressure building up. He took off, one hand coming to cover his mouth as he raced towards the nearest bathroom and threw himself into the stall, barely remembering to lock it before he fell to his knees.

Rhys moaned and whimpered in front of the toilet. He tried to vomit, but nothing was coming back up. His stomach rolled and clenched but he couldn’t do anything about it, it was just settled heavy and hard inside of him. He gasped, bracing his forearms against the toilet seat, trying to calm down—but then he felt the pressure inside of him starting to mount, but it wasn’t going up his esophagus, rather it was….expanding out.

Rhys’ eyes flew open, his chin tipping down to stare in horror at his abdomen. He could feel something starting to grow inside of him, pressing against his stomach. He watched as his stomach starting to visibly expand, as if someone was inflating a balloon inside of him. 

“N-No….no, oh god…” Rhys panicked, pressing his hands over his stomach as his eyed widened in fear, wondering if he was in a very, very vivid hallucination. Oh god, had Jack drugged those chocolates or something?

Rhys mind raced, panic and rational thought battling against each other as he tried to figure out what he should do. The sight of his stomach starting to expand out bigger and bigger was quickly helping panic win, however, as he slammed his hand against his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes as he fell back against the floor, heels scraping against the tile. He shoved both hands against his stomach, trying in vain to maybe push it back in, but it only swelled further under his fingers, a bloating weight steadily starting to settle against his narrow hips.

He dumbly scrabbled at his shirt as it strained against his growing stomach, little slivers of reddening flesh showing under the stretching teal fabric. He managed to get a couple of the buttons off but he wasn’t quick enough for the rest of them. Rhys let out a pathetic whine as several of the small buttons snapped off his shirt, a couple scattering to the floor.

He sobbed in fear as he watched his bare stomach continue to grow, and to his ever increasing horror he could start to feel shapes underneath his stretching skin. He gulped and pressed his fingers into his flesh, feeling small, hard orbs clustering in his stomach, growing larger as pressure mounted inside of him. After a couple more moments Rhys’ couldn’t bare to watch any longer, scrunching his eyes shut as tears squeezed down his face, and for a moment Rhys was sure he was going to die from whatever it was that was growing inside of him.

To the young man’s relief, however, the rapid swelling began to slow down, eventually stopping. Rhys hiccuped softly to himself, smearing his flesh hand across his tear-stained cheeks as he dared to open his eyes and look down at himself.

He sobbed again as he saw himself. Fuck. It looked like he’d swallowed some kind of freaky Pandoran watermelon. He could even see the soft forms of whatever had grown inside of him stand out against his stretched stomach, and he felt bile rise up in his throat at the sight. He smoothed his hands over his middle, letting out a scared little whine as he desperately thought of what to do. His ECHOeye tried scanning it, but Rhys felt even sicker the moment it decided to give him an inside look of his stomach.

Fuck. Fuck. What was he going to do! The feelings of shame told him to go curl up at home and cry in a place that was a little less public, but then his mind flicked back to the chocolates, and Rhys gritted his teeth in an angry scowl. The fucking chocolates. They had to be the culprit in this, which meant it was all Jack’s god damn fault. Rhys pressed his palm against his forehead and let out a wet, frustrated huff. He swallowed and took a few deep breaths, before bracing his hands against the now warm tile, trying to sit up with the new swollen mass in his stomach.

Rhys let out a breathy, upset whine as he levered himself up against the toilet and stood up, legs trembling both from the ordeal and the new weight settled in his belly. He wobbled as he leaned against the wall of the stall, trying in vain to cover his stomach with his shirt, eventually just shedding his vest and holding it over his middle to hide it. He grimaced as the shapes inside of him rolled around, pressing up against each other as he changed his posture. Rhys swallowed down his fear and discomfort, unlatched the stall door, and slowly starting waddling off to Jack’s office.


“Oh my god.” Jack tipped back in his chair and slapped his thighs, erupting into peals of laughter at the sight of his PA.

Rhys was bright red, flushed head to toe in absolute embarrassment as he stood before his boss. He hadn’t expected much less from Jack, but still, it was absolutely humiliating to be standing before him in a ripped shirt and open pants with a swollen belly jutting out in front of him. He bit his lip in shame as Jack howled in laughter.

“Look at you, kitten! Are you frikkin’ kidding me?”

“Shut up, Jack! What the hell did you do to me!” Rhys shouted, wobbling as he nearly lost his balance. Jack snickered into his fist, shaking his head at the shaky young man before him.

“What did I do to you? Oh, sweetheart, you did this to yourself.” Jack gestured to the young man’s awkwardly swollen stomach. “I didn’t tell you to eat them I…oh my god, I didn’t even think you would do this, but this is frikkin’ hilaaaaaarious.”

“No, no it’s not.” Rhys bit the inside of his cheek, his hands rubbing anxiously over his belly, “I don’t know what the hell happened to me, or what’s inside me or…or anything!”

“Chill out, pumpkin, don’t wanna pop do ya?” Jack spluttered, laughing at his own statement. 

“Ha! Pumpkin! You really do look like a pumpkin right now, huh?”

“JACK!” Rhys shouted, nearly losing his balance in his frustration. He stumbled, righting himself only to be hit with more peals of laughter from the CEO.

“Hahaha, don’t fall kiddo, or you might start bouncing! Right outta the window! Ohhhhh my gooddddd.” Rhys couldn’t believe him—he was nearly crying from laughter at Rhys’ hapless state. The young man flushed up to his ears, standing humiliated as Jack gradually came down from his laughing fit.

“Hahaha…oh wow…oh my god, Rhys, here I was thinking it was gonna be a shit day, and you go ahead and pull something like this…bravo, kiddo, you really know how to keep things entertaining ‘round here.” Jack shook his head, snickering softly even as Rhys shot him a withering look.

“Yeah, being filled with…whatever this is is really funny Jack. Just. Super duper hilarious.” Rhys huffed, crossing his arms in front of his stomach and looking pointedly away from Jack. “It’s just a fucking scream to have to deal with this in the middle of a public bathroom…”

“Hah, oh my god, I wish I’d been there to see that…too bad there’s no cameras in there, what with you wieners and your privacy.”

“Jack. Focus. Explain. What the hell were in those chocolates?” Rhys demanded, snapping his gaze back to his boss. He needed to know what had happened to him, and he was running out of patience. Jack traced his finger idly against the surface of his desk, an amused smirk still playing on his lips.

“Man…all right, so…those taints down at the Exports were really pissing me off. You know all about that, long story short, blah blah blah. So I get some of the R&D kids to whip me up a nasty little surprise to give to them.”

Rhys felt his heart plummet into his stomach at the growing wicked look on Jack’s face.

“Thresher eggs. Usually, they take about a week to hatch. But I had them pumped full of stuff to make them grow extra quick the moment they get swallowed. Something in the host’s stomach acids causes ‘em to grow like crazy. Like those dinosaurs sponges that swell up when you spray ‘em with water. Only they’re alive, and oh baby once those eggs hatch, they’ll tear right out of their host. Blammo!” Jack exclaimed, fanning his fingers out in emphasis of the gore and grinning as Rhys looked on with a horrified expression.

“One egg isn’t really noticeable unless you’re looking for it, but…Rhysie, how many did you eat.” Rhys only trembled, hands stroking over his stomach like he was handling a bomb.

“S-s-so….so that means…”

“Yep, once those suckers hatch, I’m gonna have to start putting out applications for a new PA.” Jack tapped his fingers against his lips in thought. “Too bad, I’m gonna miss that ass. Served me well.”

“But there’s a way to get them out, right?” Rhys took a shaky step towards the desk, his heart hammering in his chest. “Jack? You can get them out?”

The amused expression on Jack’s face as he crossed his arms and put on a show of consideration was really not doing much to ease Rhys’ panic. The young man felt his voice tremble as he scrabbled against Jack’s desk, pleading with his fickle boss.

“Ha ha ha, J-Jack come, on, this isn’t funny….you wouldn’t…c’mon Jack you wouldn’t just let me…”

Jack rubbed his chin, looking Rhys up and down, and the young man felt on the verge of tears before Jack finally relented with a nod.

“Yeaaaaah, all right. I guess it would be hard for me to replace that ass. And I guess you do other stuff too. Okay!” Jack rose from his seat and slapped his hands on the desk, before crooking a finger at Rhys.

“Come to daddy, babe, before you paint my office in a fresh shade of red.”

Rhys waddled over quickly, nearly losing his balance as he positioned himself before Jack’s desk. He puffed in frustration as he cradled his swollen stomach, trying to find a way to be comfortable. Finally, Jack let out a snort and grabbed at Rhys, pushing his chest against the flat of the desk and propping his ass up in the air. Rhys hissed, shooting an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

“Jack, don’t be so rough.” Jack only shook his head and gave Rhys’ ass a soft pat.

“Is that any way to talk to the man about to save your life? Rude, Rhysie.” Jack idly kneaded at Rhys’ rear end. “Lucky for your little ass, literally, there’s quite the convenient killswitch to those little monsters.” Rhys did not like the devilish grin that was spreading across the older man’s face, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Jack’s eyes roved over Rhys’ form, drinking it in with relish. He bit his lip as he met Rhys’ eyes. The kid was absolutely delicious like this, cheeks red with embarrassment, eyes wide and on the verge of fearful tears.

“Y’know, it’s not a bad look on you, kiddo. Lookin’ so frikkin’ helpless and scared. Needing daddy’s help to get you out of a sticky mess.”

“S-Shut up…you better know what you’re doing…” Rhys scowled, turning his bright red face away from Jack and pressing his warm cheeks against the cool of the desk surface.

“Oh, don’t worry, Rhysie…” Jack chuckled darkly as his hands settled around the thick leather of Rhys’ belt.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the nasty little things out of you.”

Rhys’ pants were quickly around his ankles, easy to remove with his already loosened belt.  Rhys rested his elbows against the surfaced of the desk, his heavy belly hanging and curving his spine downwards. Rhys tried to ignore when Jack’s hand came to cup the swollen underside of his stomach, supporting it more fully as he worked two lube-slicked fingers into the young man.

Rhys gritted his teeth at the feeling, his body already so full and stretched that it didn’t welcome something else prodding inside of him. It didn’t help that Jack wasn’t exactly gentle, either, his fingers spreading Rhys wider almost immediately. Rhys let out a pained puff of air, needing Jack to be softer when he was already so sore and stretched out. 

“Jack, slow down…”

“Can’t, cupcake, you know we’re working on a deadline.” Jack muttered as he scissored his fingers mercilessly inside of the young man before ripping them out and streaking lube all over Rhys’ skin as he settled both hands against the young man’s hips.

“Wait, Jack, hold on—“

Rhys’ words were cut off in a yelp as Jack slammed his cock inside, rocking the young man hard against the desk. Rhys hissed and squeezed his eyes tight—even with the lube and the preparation, Jack’s cock was hell to his overfilled body.

Jack’s sudden thrusts jostled the eggs in Rhys’ belly, making them surge forward even as Jack pulled back, slamming into the young man again. Rhys’ moans turned into sobs whenever Jack pushed inside of him, hands flexing and fisting uselessly as he tried to focus on the pleasure of Jack fucking him rather than the fullness and pendulous swing of his stomach. He tried to snake his hand underneath himself and grab at his cock to help, but to his dismay he found he couldn’t even reach past his heavy stomach. Rhys let out a weak, upset noise, feeling stupid that he couldn’t even touch his own dick thanks to these eggs.

Jack, for once, took a modicum of kindness on him, snaking his broad hand around Rhys’ thighs and grasping his cock. Rhys keened, thrusting into Jack’s hand as his own fingers pressed into the surface of the desk, his breath fogging on the surface.

A particularly sharp thrust from Jack’s dick had Rhys’ teetering on the edge, a couple more strokes of the man’s hand getting Rhys to come, splattering the form with release as Rhys pressed his forehead into the desk, tears squeezing out of his eyes as he let out a pitiful, broken moan.

He had already cum, but Jack was still fucking hard into him, the man moving his hand from Rhys’ cock to roughly handle the young man’s stomach, squeezing at the swollen flesh. Rhys cried out at the sensation, the eggs clacking and rolling in his belly under Jack’s harsh fingers.

The orgasm had helped the pain and bloated feeling somewhat, but now Rhys’ legs were quaking, overwhelmed with the feelings and just wishing it all would stop. But Jack only continued, firmly pressing over his belly as he snapped his hips faster into Rhys with no sign of slowing down.

Rhys gasped as he felt a sudden twinge go through his stomach, followed by a sudden rush of fluid spurting from his ass. The young man let out a shameful cry, going beat red as he tried to look over his shoulder and see what was happening. He heard Jack laugh, the man suddenly yanking his cock out of him and letting the fluid dribble down Rhys’ thighs and splatter onto the floor.

“Heh…looks like you’ve been popped, pumpkin.”

Rhys whimpered, his legs trembling as he raised himself up on Jack’s desk, trying to stand up straight. Embarrassment flooded through him as he felt thick fluid continue to leak from his ass, the sensation of it dripping down his thighs making Rhys’ try to close them in shame, only for Jack to insistently hold them apart.

His hand moved from the table and came to cradle his round stomach, feeling the muscles in his abdomen start to quake. Rhys cringed as pain shot through him, nearly causing him to fall to the ground as his knees wobbled.

“J-Jack…?” Rhys questioned, voice warbling. He kept one hand braced against the edge of the desk as he turned around, only to see Jack settled back into his bright yellow chair, legs spread as he beckoned Rhys with both hands, slick cock still hanging out of his pants.

“C’mon, pumpkin, go ahead and sit in daddy’s lap, he’s got ya…”

Another streak of pain vibrated through his belly as Rhys hurried to sit in Jack’s lap, grateful to be off his feet, though it didn’t abate the pain and pressure starting to build inside of him. Rhys felt tears well up in his eyes again, sobs brewing in the back of his throat as his stomach clenched like a vice. He swore he could even see the movement as his body tried to force the unwanted eggs out.

Jack lifted the young man’s bare legs up over the arms of his chair, holding him open obscenely in the CEO’s lap. Jack rested his chin on Rhys’ shoulder, eyes focused on the young man’s quivering hole as his hands came up to hold Rhys’ wrists against his heaving chest. Rhys squirmed, unsure if he liked being restrained so much or if he would rather have the freedom to thrash about, but rational thought quickly left him as he suddenly felt something shift inside of him.

Tears rolled down the young man’s face as he took in deep, shaky gulps, struggling to keep calm as his stomach twisted and spasmed around the eggs inside of him. He could feel his body struggling to push the foreign objects into place to be properly expelled out of him. Rhys was just grateful he hadn’t put anything in his stomach aside from coffee—if he were to push anything but eggs into Jack’s lap, he would just airlock himself right now out of shame.

Not that shame wasn’t coursing through Rhys’ body as he felt the first of the eggs work its insane pressure down towards his ass. The first spark of pleasure that shot to his cock as the egg rolled over his prostate made Rhys tip his head back and moan. He whimpered, rocking his hips forward in a futile attempt to get the egg away from his prostate, but it sat there, driving blood to his cock until his body clenched and pushed it past. Rhys breathed a sigh of relief for only a moment, before he choked on it as the egg started to crown against his entrance.

“J-Jack, I can’t do it, I can’t do it—“ Rhys whimpered miserably, nearly hyperventilating as the egg insisted on pushing further out of him. It hurt again, stretching his hole out raw and sore. He hiccuped, shaking his head stupidly, only for Jack to kiss at his throat, rubbing his thumb around one of Rhys’ wrists.

“Yes you can, kiddo. C’mon.” Jack spoke gruffly, his voice strained. Rhys could still feel the man’s erection against the inside of his thigh, not flagging even as Rhys struggled to push out alien eggs on top of him. Rhys let out a puff of breath, trying to concentrate and force the object further. 

He cried out louder as his hole was stretched wider than it ever had before, the large egg spreading him apart around its girth. Tears dripped down to Rhys’ chin, pattering lightly against his chest as he gave one last clench and finally managed to push it out.

He heard the slick crack of the egg smacking against the floor but he didn’t care, his thoughts instantly overwhelmed as the second egg began to work its way through his body. Rhys was a breathless, hopelessly aroused mess, his head lolling back against Jack’s shoulder as he prayed for respite that wouldn’t come.

Rhys’ face was bright red with tears and pain and hopeless arousal as he laid limp against Jack, sobbing breathlessly as fluid continued to leak from his ass, surely staining Jack’s chair but Rhys didn’t care in that moment. He was too overwhelmed, too much sensation rocking through his body as he tried to remember what he did the first time, huffing and pushing and canting his hips to get the egg out of him. The second egg was slightly easier, its brother having stretched out a path for it, and soon it was smacking wetly against the floor next to the other cracked egg. 

Soon, four eggs were laying on the floor, but to Rhys’ horror and disbelief, his stomach was still swollen. Rhys shook his head, his puffy red eyes filling with tears again.

“No, no, god, just let me die, I can’t do this, I can’t—“

“Bullshit, Rhysie,” Jack growled in Rhys’ ear, releasing one of the boy’s wrists and bringing his hand down to the young man’s stomach. Before Rhys could stop him, Jack was pressing down on his belly, fingers showing into the swollen flesh. Rhys screeched at the added pressure, whimpering and trying to grasp at Jack’s fingers with his free hand but he was so weak that he could do little to dissuade Jack from pressing the eggs down towards his ass in stead of his sore abdominal muscles. Jack dug his teeth into Rhys’ neck, leaving a soft bite before licking it admonishingly.

“If you’re not gonna push, then I will, kiddo. Your choice.”

Rhys laughed hollowly at the idea that he had any choice at all in this situation, before clenching his teeth together and urging his exhausted, worn muscles to push more, eventually squeezing the fifth egg out of his body. Jack rewarded him with a soothing rub on his stomach and a kiss to the neck.

“Good boy.”

Rhys barely remembered the rest of the eggs, mind retreating into mindless pushing and the warm feeling of Jack beneath him and behind him, soothing him with absent murmurs and gentle touches to his chest and stomach. Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, Rhys felt an egg slide out of his ass and the sudden feeling of Jack’s hand palming over his stomach. Rhys whimpered, fluttering his eyes open to see his mercifully flat middle. He let out a ragged sob of relief and relaxed limply against Jack, breathing deeply and trying to get his heart rate back under control. He felt dazed and utterly spent, his entire body trembling in the aftermath of having laid who knows how many eggs. Honestly, Rhys could go the rest of his life without knowing exactly how many he had been forced to push out of himself. He was pretty sure once he woke up, he would never be able to look his boss in the eyes again.

But that was a problem for future Rhys. Present Rhys couldn’t care less that he was lying covered in fluid in his boss’s lap, and quickly tipped his head back against Jack’s shoulder and passed out.