"It says that you will become the recipient of an artificial pregnancy meaning that the process will not end in birth. It will end when..." Tiff trailed off in her reading of the label when a large, bold print warning caught her eye.
"Katie, this isn't good. Listen to this, 'WARNING: Contact with a person under the age of 18 will cause side-effects. The simulated pregnancy will not end after the normal time frame'."
Hands on her belly, as the strange feelings had centered there, Katie waited for Tiff to read more, but her friend remained silent. The wait was too much for her and she blurted out, "When will it start? When will it end?"
"It doesn't say," Tiff dropped the carton to the floor when she caught sight of what was happening to her friend. Slowly, but surely Katie's stomach was beginning to grow, pushing her shirt up as it enlarged.
"Ooh, Tiff. I feel so strange," Katie rubbed her growing belly. Despite its rapid growth her skin remained free of stretch marks, something that became increasingly obvious as her belly pushed farther and farther out until she looked like she was nine months pregnant. The changes didn't stop there either. Her bra started to feel too tight and her breasts began to feel very heavy. Looking down she saw that her breasts had at least tripled in size and that between her belly and breasts her shirt was managing to cover very little. It felt like a warm weight had settled in her breasts, making them seem tight and making her nipples tingle. The tight feeling was gradually growing worse and fumbling around under her shirt to remove her too small bra did nothing.
Without a bra her breasts hung down heavily as they pressed against her shirt, feeling painful and bloated. Two small wet spots appeared on her shirt as the feeling of pressure increased to an unbearable level. Lifting up her shirt she saw small droplets of milk clinging to her nipples. She was lactating.
"Tiff, it's starting to hurt!" She squeezed and rubbed at her breasts, trying to make the milk flow out, but all she could manage was a pathetically small trickle. The only thing that would alleviate her discomfort was to have someone nurse. It was starting to get so bad that even her nipples hurt even as drops of milk pattered onto the floor.
"Please, Tiff, help me. I can't do this myself!"