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

Previous Chapter 

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Justin awoke one morning with his dick hard where it was squashed, just buried under his gut. He didn't think, he just went with it; the friction. He thrusted.

God it was good. He was already sweating, his abdomen full of warmth and pressure. His heated insides tensed, imploded, then spread out again. He came after just a few thrusts.

Then he was flat on his back gasping for breath, the pressure and euphoria combining in a strange sensation that made it briefly okay that he could hardly breathe. But soon he was scrambling for relief of the weight squashing against him. He got on his side and moaned quietly, rubbing his flank. He couldn't tell if he was sick of this or if he was secretly just craving more abuse from his strange body.
Justin took another moment to lie there before shifting slowly to a sitting position then hauling himself up from the bed. He got in the shower and washed himself gingerly, after which he started the methodical process of getting dressed. He started with some briefs and followed with the girdle.

The contraption felt tighter than ever and took some extra effort to latch closed. He felt the soreness of engorgement but he had just pumped the night before and was trying not to overdo things.

He stuffed a folded piece of cloth into the front of the girdle to soak up any output. Then he paused to breathe, feeling the girdle tighten with every inhalation. His flesh bulged against the edges and he wondered if it was cutting off his circulation in places. He shifted and tugged at the girdle, looking for some amount of relief. A tearing noise caused him to tense. Upon investigation, Justin found that the material had begun to rip at the side but it hadn't given way completely. The girdle was still in one piece, at least for the time being.

Sighing, Justin pulled on a large basketball jersey he had custom-ordered from a maternity shop, embarrassingly enough. He had to sit down on his bed to drag his sweatpants up his legs where the waistband settled low on his pelvis beneath his swollen abdomen.

Before getting up, Justin paused to look at his phone. He visited the maternity site where he had ordered the newer, larger shirts. He scrolled the main page for a few minutes before going back up to the search bar.

He typed in the word “girdle.” There proved to be various options and he could filter them based on “trimester,” material, and level of support.

Justin threw a glance down at the compressed mound in his lap before looking back at his phone.

He selected a high-support girdle that was extra-large, for women at term with twins. His cheeks were hot as he placed the order then he just stared at the wall for a moment. Things were getting out of hand. He knew it. But what was he going to do about it?

Justin heaved himself up from the bed for the second time that morning, grunting out as he pushed his belly forward. Clutching his back, he took a moment to catch his breath. His eyes automatically rested on his swollen mass again, his feet no longer visible beneath it. Then his gaze shifted upward to his chest. For a moment he studied the small breasts perched there. Originally, he has just thought it to be some idle weight gain but they were too full now, and too round. They were perched so innocent and perky, high on his chest. Goodness, they had to be C-cups already. He felt as though they had popped up out of nowhere. It was all so overwhelming.

He was heavy. Just the act of dragging himself around was becoming an exhaustive process. Justin realized that he had begun to waddle a little. It was humiliating yet somehow his mind always trailed away from all these downsides to the impossible pleasure—more pleasure than he had ever experienced through sex or orgasm. This belly-boob brought with it something unprecedented. It was like a new sex organ on its own.

Kyle threw a grin after Justin exited his room. The more-slender college student was in the kitchen whipping together breakfast for god knew what reason.

“How's the baby?” Kyle mocked as he walked over. He lightly patted the side of Justin's belly, smearing it with batter to Justin's dismay.

“Ha ha, very funny,” said Justin sarcastically as he tried to wipe the smear away.

Kyle just kept grinning. “I made breakfast. How do buttermilk pancakes sound?”

They sounded great, to be honest. “I’ve got to get to my calc final,” said Justin, grabbing his backpack off the couch.

“Come on man. Just a taste.”

Justin clutched his back and waddled over for to the kitchen. There was no denying that he moved like a pregnant person.

He demolished three fat pancakes rapidly. They were delicious. The curious aftertaste sort of reminded him of his protein shakes for some reason. He grabbed another, messily rolling it up and dipping it into the saucer of syrup on the counter, before hurriedly gulping it down.

Justin groaned and clutched the underside of his belly as his nipple ached, trying to push out against the tight girdle.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, his face always so open and inviting. “You okay?”

“No. I mean, I—I shouldn't. I have to go.” Justin wiped his mouth on his arm and headed for the apartment door, hoping that he wouldn’t look as bizarre as he felt once he got to class.

Justin rode slowly to the math department building on the far side of his college campus. As he parked and walked inside, he could feel the gazes of other students following him and his movements, but he tried his best to ignore them.

He began to worry that it was a mistake that he hadn’t allowed Kyle to drain him, particularly when he chose a desk in the back of class but couldn’t imagine how he could negotiate his body’s entrance into the small space between the desk and the connected chair. The process had always been easy before.

But in recent weeks it had gotten tricky, wedging himself in there as he squished his mound down. Still, he had managed.

Now, with Justin’s recent surge of growth, the space looked smaller than ever before. He eased himself towards the seat, and as he did, he wondered if the girdle had been a mistake for this outing. Though it lifted weight from his back and kept the belly-breast from bouncing around too much, it also left the mound quite firm so that it was less malleable and decidedly harder to squish down into any shape aside from that of the girdle. It was compressed into a tight dome.

Justin released an unintentional grunt as he finally shoved himself into the seat. Several students swiveled their heads around to look at him. He swore his gut was trembling in protest, ready to tear the desk apart. In truth, his flesh was no match for the marble, metal, and plastic combined to create the piece of classroom furniture. And so the breast ached more with every moment that the desk was pressed into it as it sought somewhere to push out and escape.

The exam was hard, not because of the material, but because Justin was in such an extreme state of discomfort. He could hardly focus on the questions and found himself fidgeting continuously, pawing at the swell. It was just too tight. A hum escaped his throat as he felt himself starting to leak. A few of the nearest students threw him cagy glances.

Justin raised his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?” he entreated.

“This is a test. Be quiet,” his professor reprimanded from her seat in the front of the classroom.

Justin obediently lowered his hand and turned his attention back to his exam paper.

He felt as though he could hardly breathe. He was being suffocated by the desk and his own body. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He felt like he could pass out. “I’m sorry.” He dislodged himself from the desk with a surprising amount of effort, nearly falling to the ground once he freed himself. Panting, he clutched his girth and waddled toward the door as the professor stared after him in shock.

Justin stumbled into the hallway and leaned back heavily on the brick wall. He would try to explain himself later. Shit, what if he failed the class? No, it would be fine. He would just explain that he needed better accommodation than the small student desk. And if that failed, he could claim that he’d fallen ill or something.

Justin wasn’t certain but in all his frantic scribblings, he thought he might have gotten ¾ of the way through the test. It would be funny if he’d somehow managed to pass on his own. Heaving a heavy sigh, he pushed himself off the wall.

With the motion, a damp patch bloomed in the middle of his shirt. Biting his bottom lip, Justin strained to contain the outpour of milk but it felt like it was overflowing him, ready to spill out. And the tightness of the girdle didn’t help. He made his way outside to the parking lot and shifted himself onto his motorcycle. The fit was terribly awkward. The student desk had squeezed him but now he had the opposite problem. He felt insecure and unbalanced as he gripped the handles, his belly-breast squashing against the frame of the bike that seemed to push him back with equal force. He would just have to hold on.

Justin started the bike, his breathing thin and the girdle only seeming to tighten. Maybe he should have found a bathroom and taken it off before his departure, but right now, Justin had no desire to go back into the math building. He just wanted to go home, back to the privacy of his small apartment, and to Kyle’s lips which were almost medicinal in how well they soothed him.

Justin pulled out of the lot. “Ngghhhhhh…” his belly vibrated even with the girdle containing it. Milk gushed free more forcefully as his shirt was rapidly soaked to the point of being pasted against him. But he continued to drive, even when he grunted or whined out as his bike hit a bump in the road. He felt as though he could burst at times. It was just so much stimulation. He could hardly breathe. Instead he gasped and choked out breaths until he got to his building, by which point he was close to tears. Justin parked his bike and made his way inside.

Justin felt as though he had just climbed out of a swimming pool, he was sweating so much. Kyle was hanging out at the dorm as usual. Did he even go to class anymore?

Justin’s fingers fumbled at his gut, desperate to free himself of the device that was just short of torturing him by that point.

“Justin?” said Kyle with a questioning look.

“Aghhh!” Justin cried out as he undid one of the latches and the rest of the girdle tore apart, his shirt shooting upwards as his belly-boob bounced and popped out into the open, Justin gasping for breath. He was massive. He clutched his mound, trying to hug it to him. Kyle stared on, looking entranced.

“Fuck, help me,” Justin moaned as milk poured, but not at its typical volume or speed. Instead it just pushed out in a sort of ooze, rolling down the underside of the mound while showcasing the increasing thickness Justin had noticed as time progressed. His milk was closer to cream now, but a bit thicker. It didn’t spray, it seeped. This was more convenient for clean-up but it also put a new tension on the massive nipple as well as an increased burden on his body which was now slower to drain.

“N-need you,” Justin pleaded.

“Yes,” Kyle responded with no hesitation. He closed in, but instead of kneeling down, he just hugged Justin, squashing the fat mound between them as Justin grunted out in discomfort, his whole body shaking.

Kyle reached down to knead the flesh with his hands. “God, you look pregnant,” he muttered. “You look like you have a bunch of babies stuffed in there.”

“I c-can’t—”

“Shhhh, its ok,” Kyle cut him off.

Then he did something he had never done before. He kissed Justin. On the lips. It didn’t help but it distracted, if just a little.

“Hold on,” whispered Kyle. “Just a little longer. Just a little more.”

Justin’s body strain. His gut trembled. He groaned out as his mound pushed into Kyle just a little harder as milk seeped and rolled between them.

There was a stinging sensation on his chest. Justin looked down to see two new small damp spots on this shirt. The pair of small breasts developing there…they were leaking. “Ngghhhh…”

Kyle only seemed to squeeze him harder against him. Showing no intent to offer relief.

Justin was just so full, so overpacked with milk.

And Justin began to wonder for the first time if his and Kyle’s wasn’t the healthiest of dynamics.

Next Chapter 

Comments

Night Akula

Currently my fav story 💜💜💜

Anonymous

So unbelievably amazing!