Bad Roommate, Part 17 - Female Version (Patreon)

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Summary: Violet’s roommate secretly doses her with experimental drugs, causing Violet’s stomach to progressively transform into a giant breast. Violet is oblivious and horrified as to what is happening to her body. In the meantime, her roommate secretly documents the transformation. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, belly-breast, and more.

Previous Chapter

-

“Oh fuck,” Alex breathed, unable to help marveling at her huge belly. Even after a long session with the breast pump, it still looked massive.

She just sat there panting, trying to catch her breath. Her face was flushed, her skin dewy with sweat. She was suddenly reminded of Violet as she gazed at the way her own abdomen was stretching out her sweatshirt, some of the mound pushing out beneath the hem.

Alex lightly shook her head, trying to shove those thoughts aside. She tugged again at her sweatshirt, trying to improve the coverage as she shuffled out of the bathroom, her stride feeling awkward. God, was she starting to waddle?

“Look what you did,” Alex said as she found Milton still sprawled languidly on the bed.

Milton responded with a low whistle, seeming impressed by his handiwork.

“I look pregnant,” Alex went on, motioning at her inflated stomach as she glared down at him. “I’m fucking waddling.”

“You are?” he said, sitting up slightly, his lip curling in amusement. And to Alex’s disbelief, he was getting aroused again. It was all just a game.

Fed up, Alex turned and left the bedroom.

-

Her body was relentless. It was constantly swelling up, working and producing greater quantities of milk. In the following days, Alex found it prudent to just leave the pump attached to her belly-nipple. She sat back and watched TV as it hummed and pumped, sometimes causing her to grunt or grimace, but she was getting used to the sensation.

She would lose track of time and let it run continuously, only coming out of her reverie when the gallon-sized tank overflowed and started spilling milk onto the floor. She would pause her TV show try to clean up. Her life had gotten truly bizarre.

“You still angry?”

Alex looked up to see Milton standing in the living room doorway. She must have truly lost track of time to not realize that he had come home from work.

She looked away and resumed her clumsy efforts of leaning down and trying to gather up the heavy, overflowing container, moving awkwardly because of the huge mound sticking out from her torso.

Lately, she had been giving Milton the silent treatment. It was always strangely gratifying to see him sigh and walk off despondently to their bedroom after a long day at the office.

But today he wasn’t backing off.

“What are we doing here?” Milton said as he stepped forward.

Alex stilled, not looking up. She was sitting at the edge of the couch, the tank top she had on now skintight. It clung against the four plump, heavy F-cups on her chest, not even pulling halfway over the immense belly-breast presently perched against Alex’s lap. Again, she glanced up at Milton, her lips twisted in a frown.

“You take that lactation pill every day,” he went on with increasing determination. “Still do. ‘Cuz we both like seeing you grow. You like it. Don’t deny it.”

Alex felt breathless. She never really thought about their little pill routine. It had gone on for weeks — maybe months now. It was habit. Taking the supplement every morning, usually when Milton was around to see her do it. And as a consequence, Alex filled up more.

“That’s the whole deal, the whole game,” Milton went on as he approached. “That’s why it’s fun.”

He leaned down, closing in, and Alex couldn’t help gripping onto his blazer. Just the conversation was turning them on. Taking the pills might have been truly insane, but it was also fucking intense. The heat, the fullness. The pressure was world-consuming. It was part of her being. Alex could hardly make sense of her pleasurable dilemma.

Milton joined her on the couch, pulling her closer. Alex’s belly pressed firmly into him, some milk seeping out, getting on his clothes. To Alex, it all felt good. It felt warm.

His hands cupped the swell. “Beautiful.”

-

At the club, Milton always liked to flaunt their relationship, but also Alex’s bizarre body. Alex saw her condition as something secret and embarrassing, yet there was something strangely hot and illicit about her weird and sexual developments.

She hardly knew where Milton got the custom clothes orders, but she would still wear them. Presently, she was dressed in a skirt and blouse that was tight and stretchy, buttons pulling apart in some places to show diamonds of flesh. She suspected that Milton had ordered it to just barely fit her.

Sometimes Alex wondered what the other people in the VIP lounge thought of her. Did they think that she had gotten cosmetic surgery? Did they think that she just kept gaining weight in the most unusual of places? Did they think she was a science experiment, or an alien? Were they all in denial or too inebriated to care either way?

It wasn’t as though Alex had a monopoly on depravity. She saw all sorts of sordid things going down in the VIP area.

“Yeah, can’t believe summer is almost over.” She was making small-talk with some new guy as they both sipped drinks.

“Yeah...” said the guy, his gaze trailing between Alex’s face and her torso repeatedly. Sometimes he would look down at his scotch in concern.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Alex from behind, reaching down to cup the swell of her belly. She smiled as she leaned back against Milton’s chest. He gave a squeeze that made her groan, her face heating.

“Uhh, this is Milton,” Alex explained belatedly to the new guy, who was giving her a look of increasing bafflement. “Milton, I would like to introduce you to my new friend, Mr…ah…?”

“Fern,” he said. “But you’ll have to…excuse me. I think I need some water.” Fern smiled tightly and walked off.

She looked down at her empty glass, then gently pulled away from Milton. “Need a drink myself. You want anything?”

“I’m set,” he responded, smiling in amusement as he watched her waddle off. Alex threw him a rude hand gesture, playfully.

She left the VIP lounge and slipped into the main part of the club because the bar there had the type of vodka she favored. It was dark, and late, and everyone was drunk. Alex doubted that anyone here would pay attention to her, and honestly, she was too buzzed to care.

She pushed her way through the throbbing bodies, grimacing as she tried her best to shield her belly with her arms from all the pressure and stimulation of it rubbing against the masses.

Alex was sweating by the time she got across the dance floor. She had to press her belly hard into the bar just to lean over and talk to the bartender. She winced, cupping her side as she pulled back. She really didlook like she was pregnant. Overdue, even.

Alex breathed deeply as she waited for her drink, when she heard a soft chuckle beside her. Looking up, she felt her face break into a smile. “Conrad, it’s been a while.” She clinked her empty glass to Conrad’s full one.

“Work’s been busy,” he responded, smiling back. “A good thing, I suppose.” He sipped his drink as he gave Alex a onceover. But it wasn’t judgmental or disturbed. Humored, maybe. “Well, it looks like you’vebeen having fun. Milton’s certainly done a number on your body.”

Alex blushed but couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, we’re not the most…logical pairing. Or sane, for that matter.”

He laughed heartily.

As Alex again leaned on the bar to accept her drink from the bartender, a small gasp came up her throat, her eyes shuddering closed. Fuck, she thought, her hand moving to cup the dampening spot on her blouse at her navel. She usually had better control than this. She’d probably had too much to drink. Despite that thought, Alex took a gulp of her Moscow mule.

Conrad was still smiling and watching her. “Time’s up?”

“Yeah, I…better head out.” She blushed then downed the remainder of her beverage.

-

Sure, it was 4 AM, and she was pretty tipsy, but Alex was finding it impossible to get out of the car, try as she might to heave her ass off the seat.

Milton chuckled as he came over, taking her hands, helping her up as the driver stared at them through the rearview mirror.

Yet it was unnerving. Memories of Violet flashed through her mind again.

“Let’s go to bed,” Milton said as he pulled her towards the door.

“I’m pretty full,” she slurred as she absently cupped her tight belly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he giggled, continuing to drag her inside. Alex had scarcely seen Milton so overtly drunk. It was so funny that Alex forgot her prior concerns.

They got to bed, too tired and tipsy to change out of their clothes.

“Come ‘ere,” Milton muttered, his eyes already closed.

Alex reached vaguely towards him, the room blurring. Against her better judgment, she let her own eyelids drop.

-

“Oh god, oh fuck…”

Alex squirmed as her belly-nipple was sucked, her stomach pink and sweaty, her face contorted in strain. She threw her head back, gasping and cursing. Milton had been at it for fifteen minutes and Alex didn’t feel any less stuffed.

Her fingers gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer and harder against her packed belly. “God, suck me. Suck it harder. Fuhhhh…” Alex clenched her jaw as she looked down at herself.

She should have known better than to fall asleep when she was so engorged. She looked more than pregnant — due with twins, probably. Her belly was perched on her lap, her two pairs of fat breasts shelved by the mound. The front of her torso was just a collection of fat masses squished against each other. And shit, it was uncomfortable. Everything was so hot and full and engorged, but her gut felt the worst. Her belly felt tight to bursting.

“Should I get the pump?” Milton said breathlessly as he pulled off, his face flushed from his efforts.

“No,” Alex protested. “It-it’s better when you do it,” she managed between forceful gasps.

Milton looked dazed, maybe even tipsy. Was he somehow still drunk from last night, or was he…was he getting buzzed from Alex’s milk? Was that even possible? Was that why they told nursing mothers not to drink alcohol? Alex’s mind reeled at the thought.

“Right,” Milton said, still catching his breath. “Okay, so –”

Alex impatiently fisted his hair and pulled him back down. Dutifully, he resumed drinking.

-

It must have been another twenty minutes before she let him stop.

“God,” Alex breathed as she stretched out across the mattress, her breast pump now attached to her belly-nipple, extracting more of her milk, albeit slower than Milton could. Her belly was still round and plump but no longer stinging with pain; no longer looking as though it was about to pop.

Milton marveled at her. “God, you’re a machine.”

“No kidding,” she huffed. She was exhausted. Just having this bodywas exhausting. Things were getting out of control. “I’m a fucking cow.” Alex winced as she said it, but it was true. She was a milk-machine. Likely, she produced more than an actual cow could. She gave a hysterical little chuckle at the thought.

He rubbed her belly, idly.

“I’m growing so fast,” Alex mumbled, eyes closing. “I-I almost couldn’t get up last night. From the car. Remember?”

“You were fine. You were drunk,” Milton responded dismissively as he continued to stroke Alex’s round flesh.

But Alex was still uneasy. Maybe they were going too far.

-

Becca was staying with them for a few weeks. Alex hadn’t even known how close the woman was to Milton until Becca had shown up at the door, crying incoherently.

Becca was pregnant, and somehow she hadn’t known. Apparently her belly had just popped out in the third trimester, and the father wanted nothing to do with it.

Now Becca was hanging onto Milton for emotional support. She was like a groupie or something. Daddy issues, Alex thought. She gave Milton a look from where she was sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

“You don’t know how much this sucks,” Becca whined, her voice muffled by the muffin she was chomping on. “Twins, Milton. I’m a freakin’ blimp.”

Honestly, Alex couldn’t disagree. Becca was gigantic.

“You look fine,” Milton countered, but he had that wry curve to his lips. He promptly hid it behind his coffee mug. Of course he would find this funny.

“And my boobs have been feeling so weird lately. Now I know how you feel, Alex.”

Alex reddened and bit her tongue. She forced a smile as she returned her attention to the Robotics article she had been reading on her phone, her smile dropping again.

“Why don’t you get off your feet?” Milton suggested. Becca was hovering by the counter, rapidly demolishing the box of muffins Milton had just picked up not half hour ago.

“Yeah, sure,” was Becca’s bitter response as she gathered the box in her arms and waddled to the table.

She gripped the chair and sat down slowly, similar to the way Alexsat, Alex noted in mortification.

“I feel bad with you having to take care of me, all preggers and waddling,” Becca went on bitterly.

“Oh, I’m used to it,” Milton responded lightly. “I take care of Alex, don’t I?”

He winked at Alex, who felt her face redden more. “It’s not even closeto the same situation, and I’m pretty sure I take care of myself,” Alex said in irritation, glaring at him.

“Well, it’s similar, but…not really,” Becca added, at seeing Alex’s dangerous expression.

“I should get to work.” Milton stood.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head upstairs,” Alex added, heaving herself up with some effort.

“Oh, don’t run off because of me. I’ll leave,” Becca said apologetically, also standing and turning, then suddenly she and Alex’s bellies unexpectedly collided, two big bumps just squashing together.

Alex was so startled, she felt herself seeping, her milk dampening the front of Becca’s maternity dress. Becca was full term with multiples, and as Alex stared at both of their mounds, she found herself wondering if she wasn't bigger than Becca was.

“S-sorry,” Alex stammered, taking an awkward step back, her hands shooting down to cradle her swell.

“It’s okay!” Becca insisted, hands up in capitulation.

Milton just looked amused again.

“I, um, I’m g-gonna change,” Alex said, and she left the kitchen.

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