Maid, Part 5 (Patreon)

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Summary: A woman is hexed by her employer and develops a small, growing udder. Contains: Female: udder development, breast expansion, possibly more.

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Anna was growing faster.

Her breasts were steadily swelling larger as was her udder. She also began to notice that her hips were becoming plumper, and her thighs thicker. She was rapidly transforming, and she was helpless to stop it.

Her meals with Mr. Wallace continued on a regular basis. She somehow became accustomed to the large amounts of food he had her consume, and even started to become peckish during the day, as though the more she ate, the more she craved. She wondered if she was becoming addicted to stuffing herself, or to some component of the meals, like sugar. She had heard of the issue occurring among the upper class, but never to lowly servants.

So between the meals, if and when she had a moment to herself, she returned to the expansive basket she had been gifted, always gravitating to the cheeses. Occasionally she even sipped the wine, feeling guilty and giddy as she indulged. Somehow she was being treated far better and far worse than the other maids simultaneously. She knew she was past due to plan her departure, but work kept her so busy and exhausted, she found herself putting it off each day.

Anna’s udder was round and fat under the wide skirts of her regular uniform, now bulging out in an overt way, drawing the material several inches higher than it should have been. It rocked uncomfortably when she moved about, and everyone gave the mysterious mound odd and confused looks, but there was little she could do to hide it anymore.

Her breasts had grown to D-cups that no longer comfortably fit in her dress. Instead it bubbled against the tight box neckline, full cleavage out in the open. It was uncomfortable both physically and mentally. She looked improper and vulgar.

Mr. Wallace never complained, so neither did Annette or the other maids. Aside from disapproving looks and frequent glares, the other maids largely ignored her.

Anna’s breasts were often hot and sweaty, but not nearly as much as her udder. The mound in her skirts felt like a radiator against her, the heat it generated only exacerbated by the layered cotton that hung over it. Sometimes Anna felt so hot, she grew faint, and had to find ways to cool herself down. She would stand outside on days there was a cool breeze, or in severe situation, she would hurry to the kitchens and find some ice to cool herself with, all while getting astonished looks from the other servants.

The…leaking…had gotten regular enough that Anna was able to schedule approximate times that she needed privacy. The lactation would start up every five hours or so. No one protested her abrupt departures from work. Somehow Anna was able to be neglectful of her duties as the other maids were not. Of course, the others would never dare try it. But then, they were getting paid.

“Mr. Wallace is having another event in the north dining hall. He requests your presence. He says to wear the same outfit.”

Anna swallowed. She had feared this would recur. She had only just gotten off her shift at work, and felt exhausted. But then, when did she not? She nodded and made to close the door, when the butler who had been sent for her cleared his throat.

“That is not all,” he said, opening his hands from around a very small cup of burgundy fluid. “Mr. Wallace says that your behavior at his last event was…lacking. He requests that you drink this tonic. It should relax.” He extended his hands that cradled the fluid. Anna stared at it.

Hesitating a moment longer, Anna reached out to take the glass, and nodded her thanks. She closed the door, her frown deepening.

She didn’t know what the fluid was and was reluctant to consume it, especially given what Wallace had already done to her.

But Anna suspected he would know if she failed to drink it. Additionally, she had been painfully stiff and awkward at the last event (and for good reason).

Mr. Wallace was a warlock. If he wanted to hex her again, he could do it right to her face, and there would be little she could do about it. Providing her with the fluid seemed almost like a test. Closing her eyes and whispering a curse, Anna raised the tonic and downed it.

It had the taste and texture of water, which confused her. It gave her a possibly false sense of security. Shivering slightly, Anna lowered the glass to a table. She then moved to her simple bureau and unburied the slinky outfit she had hoped never to cross again.

The fit was understandably worse than before. It took some struggle to squeeze her body into it. The skirt only covered half of the udder, which was round as a basketball as it bobbed against her thighs. The neckline was dangerously low, her round breasts nearly spilling free. She looked down at herself in silent horror, absently smoothing down the skirt in a fruitless manner. She tugged at the neckline and thought that if the tonic was meant to calm her down, it had yet to work.

Anna walked slowly to the dining hall, trying to keep her udder from bobbing excessively. Fortunately enough, she had a full four hours before she was due for another milking. She knew that by then the event would be over or close to it. It was already late, so she was optimistic.

She decided that she would try to focus on poise and staying composed. It was clear that Mr. Wallace was dissatisfied by her performance at the last event. Further, a tendency towards panic would likely only exacerbate her condition.

Anna drew a long breath, then exhaled.

The hall was crowded as ever—even more so than during the last event, once she really scrutinized the people cluttered around the tables. It wasn’t a game night, just an elegant dinner with butlers striding about. The staff members didn’t even look at her this time. Perhaps they had been prepared and instructed to maintain their neutral air. The floor was fitted with an expansive rug tonight, perhaps in consideration of the mess she had made during her last attendance.

The guests did not fall silent with her arrival, but she could feel most of their gazes shifting her way. She gingerly tried to make her way to the kitchens, when a butler took hold of her upper arm. “Mr. Wallace requests you at his table.” He nodded towards the heart of the room.

The butler did not release her arm until she weakly nodded and aimed herself in the direction he had indicated. It didn’t take her long to locate Mr. Wallace. Somehow she could feel the intensity of his gaze as she approached. His table was larger than the others, and he was joined by guests dressed as finely as he was, their wealth adorning them with shining cufflinks, rings, and jewels.

Anna did the slightest of curtsies. “Mr. Wallace,” she greeted breathily.

She was feeling hot, quite hot, though the room was cool, and she had only drained herself recently. Draining usually consisted of her inexpertly squeezing the teats of her udder with trembling hands as the nubs seeped, and she groaned into a pillow, shifting awkwardly beneath the wobbling mound. In her haste and clumsiness, she suspected her methods were not extremely efficient, not compared to when the—when the calves sucked from her directly. But still, it bought her a few hours of relief, and it usually helped to mitigate the perpetually growing heat.

But now Anna’s skin prickled. The heat was growing rapidly, surging, and she was lost as to what was going on. She knew there would be no breaks, not when Mr. Wallace was watching her like a vulture as he was. Struggling to remain composed, Anna plastered a pleasant look to her face. “Sir?”

“You will serve my guests directly,” said Mr. Wallace. He held out a glass, and this time Anna immediately knew what he wanted from her. Feeling her face redden in chagrin, she eased herself close to the table, so that her udder was almost pressing into the edge, and slid her hand down to gently cup one of her teats. She took his glass and lowered it, before aiming her teat for the opening, and giving herself a squeeze.

Milk sprayed right in. It only took a few squeezes. Anna was surprised by how easy it was. She should have been low on supply, not producing easy squirts as though she had yet to milk herself that evening.

As Anna handed Mr. Wallace his glass back, he nodded to the rest of the table. She gave a quavering smile, though internally she began to panic. He expected her to serve multiple people when the process was blatant, awkward, and mortifying.

Anna moved on to the guest beside Mr. Wallace, a young man who was staring at her in mystification. She absently shifted her pelvis forward to raise her udder, before hunching somewhat over it as she clumsily chose a different teat than before. Again, she was surprised by the strong output. Wallace hummed his approval and motioned for her to continue.

It quickly became apparent to Anna that Mr. Wallace did not only want her to serve all the guests at his table, but all the guests in the room who would have her milk! She felt like some sort of attraction, people giggling, gawking, or looking positively uncomfortable. But most were daring enough to have her serve them, and despite Anna’s efforts at contentedness, she could feel her mask crumbling.

Her flesh was prickling, and the pressure was somehow increasing. Despite serving at least a dozen people already, she felt fuller and heavier than before. Her udder was positively burning, and she could feel the way it bounced with its fullness and bloated with its tightness. The coverage of her skirt was worsening as the material discreetly shifted up her growing flesh. She felt breathless and flushed, and the tightness of her uniform at her chest made it difficult to take the deep breathes she so desperately needed right then.

She didn’t know what was happening to her, but sensed that things were rapidly slipping out of her control. She shifted her way to her third table to serve, now supporting her heavy mass with her hands, not caring of the stunned looks or Mr. Wallace’s frown of disapproval. She had just taken the glass of the first guest at the table, and was fumbling to position it, when all four of her teats contracted, and she could feel the familiar dripping of the nubs, droplets of milk hitting the carpet beneath her.

Anna felt her flush worsen. “P-pardon me.” She started to turn, but one of the butlers was at her side in an instant.

“Mr. Wallace has not given you leave of your duties,” he hissed in her ear.

“But I…” Anna didn’t know what to say. It was obvious that she needed to compose herself. She craned her neck to Mr. Wallace’s table, where the man continued to watch her with a stern look on his face.

Anna turned back to the guest who immediately averted his gaze, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

“Okay…” Anna breathed, more to herself than anyone else. “Okay.”

The butler walked off with his tray of food to serve. Anna took the guest’s glass again, breathing as deep as she could. Her hands were wet with milk and slippery. She moved the glass to one of her teats, droplets falling into it as a steady pace. She hesitated, then with her pointer finger and thumb, she gave the dripping nub the slightest of squeezes.

“Nngghhhh!” Anna shuddered, her udder as a whole seeming to tighten. She struggled not to drop the glass as her other hand shot out to grip the table. Her mound throbbed visibly.

“Fuhhhhh…” she wheezed out, before gasping for breath, face dripping sweat. Veins rose and fell on her mass of pink flesh. She couldn’t believe how tight it was. She groaned and shifted, not knowing what to do. But she needed relief. She felt tight to bursting. Again, she carefully squeezed a nub, causing her milk to spray out and rapidly overfill the glass, milk spilling onto the floor. “H-here,” said Anna breathlessly, handing the sleek glass of milk back to the guest. He accepted numbly as he stared at her.

Anna struggled her way to the next guest. “Glass please,” she forced out, feeling close to tears. She strained to not spray milk all over the place, but she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out.

She didn’t look back at Wallace, but she could somehow feel his eyes on her body and sense his satisfaction. It was now clear to her what the tonic had been for.