Bad Roommate, Part 12 (Patreon)

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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

-

Justin was constantly overheated. Kyle did his best to help him. He would press a cold compress against Justin’s forehead, his belly, his chest — wherever he needed it. Justin spent most of his time these days sprawled, groaning in bed beneath his gargantuan belly as it heaved and throbbed, the huge nipple leaking milk — but was it really milk anymore? It looked more like pudding.

As much as Kyle tried to help his friend, he was admittedly preoccupied. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened over the weekend. And even then, he still couldn’t figure out how to feel about it all .

He had kept the money. He fucking needed it. Between classes and trying to take care of Justin, Kyle just didn’t have time for extra work, and the bills were piling up.

And clothes—clothes weren’t cheap. Kyle needed new shirts, ones that were bigger; roomier. And a ton of jackets. Things that could help hide what was going on with his chest. As well as bras — god, just one bra had cost him forty dollars! He’d had no idea how expensive women’s clothing was.

Though the bra had felt awkward and constricting, it was also terribly, terribly comfortable; a true relief on his torso, taking the tension off his back and the hunch off his shoulders.

It was a bizarre situation. Kyle surveyed himself in his bedroom mirror. He was wearing a pair of shorts and two strapless bras, his two pairs of breasts stacked on his chest. The bras were actually D-cups. They were a bit loose, but they definitely fit. That meant he had surged up almost two cup sizes just over the past week. It was all the stimulation from — from the club. And of course, the reintroduction of Justin’s milk. Kyle knew he was going down a slippery slope. If he didn’t get this under control, things would only escalate. He again thought about Justin’s current condition, and gulped.

But Kyle wasn’t nearly there. Justin was an extreme case. Kyle didn’t even have a weird belly-breast. So it would be all right. They were just tits, after all. Sure, it was embarrassing, but he was okay. He would stop letting Milton touch them, then everything would be fine.

Despite this rationale, Kyle went back to the club that Friday night.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He just had no self-control. And it wasn’t just about the money. It was everything. The acceptance. The way everyone treated him — not like a freak, but something special, even sexy and noteworthy. It was the sensation. The warm, tingly, addictive feel of Milton’s hands on his chest, thumbs teasing Kyle’s nipples. It left Kyle’s whole body trembling, spine arching, legs weak.

For a long time, Kyle had been addicted to Justin. But now there was this, and it was so much better, and seemed to have triggered an even stronger compulsion. Maybe he had been isolated, devoid of emotional and physical attention for just too long a time. Because now he suddenly couldn’t get enough of it.

That night, Milton met him at the door to the back room. Had the older man been waiting for Kyle?

“God, look at you,” Milton said.

Kyle’s face reddened. He had thought he had been doing a good job at discretion with the sports jacket he had on, but maybe not.

“What are you waiting for? Come on in.” Milton put a friendly hand on Kyle’s back and led him inside. He had a cigarette poking out from the corner of his mouth. It looked like Kyle wasn’t the only one giving in to his vices tonight.

Milton led Kyle back to the table and made sure that they were seated right beside each other. And this time there was little subtlety. Milton wrapped his arm right around Kyle’s waist as though to make a statement. Kyle was embarrassed, but tried to remain composed. He even partook in a couple of light conversations, but was continually conscious of the weight of Milton’s hand against him, rubbing teasingly.

Around the table, gazes frequently flitted over Kyle’s chest, but he found himself hardly self-conscious. Maybe it was the distraction. Maybe it was just this environment, the sordidness of everything.

Milton’s hand moved to cup Kyle’s lower right breast, full and firm. It was almost casual, his arm wrapped around Kyle’s back, hand gripping the mound, squeezing lightly. Kyle’s face went hot, and he trailed off midsentence, forgetting what he had been saying to a man named Reese seated across from him.

Reese gave an amused grin as Kyle closed his eyes for a moment then deeply inhaled.

It wasn’t just the embarrassment of the contact. The sensation was just so potent, so overwhelming. It made it difficult to breathe.

“You’ll have to e-excuse me for a moment,” Kyle stammered, shifting on the couch, waiting for the two people to his left to make way. He could feel Milton following. Kyle turned for the bathroom, when Milton’s large, strong hand grabbed his arm. Kyle found himself being dragged through a side exit, pulled through an alleyway, and practically thrown into the back of a luxury SUV. He gasped, fumbling, as Milton followed him in.

“Fuck, I can’t keep my hands off of you.” Milton reached through Kyle sports jacket and grabbed hold of his button-down shirt, tearing it right open. Kyle’s heaving chest became exposed, his four breasts contained in the pair of black D-cup bras he had on.

Milton paused to properly appreciate them. “’the fuck have you been eating? You’re getting huge,” Milton muttered, looking entirely pleased.

Kyle’s cheeks burned. “Less talking, more — more of that…” he groaned out as Milton trailed his hands over the full and mounds. His hands slid behind Kyle, expertly unhooking the two bras. Kyle hissed out as the bras were thrown aside, his swollen nipples exposed to the cool air.

Then Milton leaned back and just stared at him for a while, taking in Kyle’s chest. The scrutiny was embarrassing to Kyle but he allowed it.

He knew that his breasts look weirdly…swollen. Round and full. They weren’t sagging in the least, instead, too round. To the point that it was uncomfortable. They were also warm, heavy, and really sensitive. Even then, the mounds were tingling, and pressurized. Milton reached down to experimentally squeeze one of Kyle’s nipples, causing Kyle to grunt. “Easy,” Kyle urged quietly.

The nipples were a darker pink than they had been before, and really swollen. Kyle could tell that Milton noticed it too.

“Is it okay if I…” Milton didn’t finish the inquiry. He leaned down slowly, waiting for a protest that didn’t come. He pressed his lips flush to Kyle’s upper left breast, taking the nipple into his mouth.

Kyle groaned as Milton sucked. It was surprisingly uncomfortable. “Erghh…” Kyle winced. “What are you…” His face twisted as Milton sucked even harder. Then there was a new sensation.

Wetness.

Milton pulled back, and now both could observe the droplets of…white fluid…of milk…leaking from Kyle’s nipple. Kyle found himself staring frozen, a bit stunned. But in the back of his mind, he’d always known what was happening. The heaviness, the bloated sensation of engorgement. His chest heaved with his forceful breathing. It was a lot to process.

Milton leaned down again, this time taking Kyle’s lower left nipple into his mouth, and doing the same. Sucking hard and breaking the barrier. In a matter of minutes, he had all four of Kyle’s breasts leaking. Milton marveled down at his handiwork, clearly pleased with himself.

“God damn,” the older man muttered. “You, kid, are something else.”

Kyle didn’t think he could have spoken had he tried. All of the stimulation had left him completely boneless. He continued to gasp for breath, sprawled back on those leather seats, completely ripe for the taking. It felt amazing to express the milk, though the heat only seemed to be climbing, suffocating him delightfully.

It was disorienting. He felt dizzy. “I…” Kyle managed. “I should go,” he gasped out, attempting to sit out, but Milton grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing back down.

“Oh no,” Milton leered, his eyes dark with greed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

-

Kyle woke up late the next morning.

He felt sore and sensitive. He frowned at the way his nightshirt fell over his torso, his nipples bulging visibly against the thin material. The sensation of the cotton rubbing against them made him frequently freeze or twitch.

Kyle gingerly pulled the shirt up over his head.

He used similar care as he eased his lower pair of breasts into one of his strapless bras. Once he got the contraption on, he was stunned to find his breast flesh bulging against the bra cups, overflowing them. Oh god.

He didn’t even bother trying to get a bra onto his upper breasts. He was already too uncomfortable, all four of the mounds aching. He shed the lower bra, grunting out, and taking in a long, shuddering breath.

Milton had sucked them practically all night. He had sucked more than Kyle had to give. It wasn’t till the start of sunrise that Kyle stumbled out of the back of Milton’s car and made his way home, breasts tender and tingling, flesh aching deliciously. But now…

Now they were swollen again. Engorged? Kyle could feel the heat and pressure, his nipples hard, distended, and aching for release.

He rubbed his face. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he asked himself for what had to be the tenth time since he had gotten home.

Kyle paused in memory of one detail of the previous night. He looked down at his jeans from the night before, thrown over the back of his desk chair. He grabbed them, immediately digging through the pockets.

He hadn’t imagined it.

Kyle withdrew a wad of $100 bills. It had to be a couple thousand dollars.

Fuck me,he thought.

-

That afternoon, Milton called him.

Kyle could not recall exchanging numbers with older man, but there were admittedly a lot of blank in spots his memory of the night before.

“Hey,” Milton said, always so calm and content, a bit smug, even.

“Hi,” said Kyle, his voice a bit high, and certainly more awkward than Milton’s.

“I want to see you again,” Milton got right to the point. “You free tonight?”

Against his better judgment, against all logic, sense, and self-preservation, Kyle responded, “Yeah.”

They skipped the club and went straight to Milton’s huge, penthouse apartment. It was an encore performance of the night before, and from then, they were inseparable.

-

One day, Justin disappeared.

Kyle had returned home from a couple of nights spent at Milton’s, to find Justin nowhere in sight. No white goop left on the floor. Not a scribbled note. Nothing.

It was shocking, especially considering the fact that Justin wasn’t exactly mobile on his own anymore. Not with a boulder but belly attached to him, dominating his comparatively small frame.

It was just baffling, not to mention concerning, but Kyle had no one he could really confide in about it. He’d never bothered to tell Milton about Justin. Kyle didn’t know why, it just felt like an odd…conflict of interest, somehow. Milton was just different, and Kyle couldn’t say that he quite understood him.

What was clear was that Milton was a boob guy, and he liked Kyle’s, and he enjoyed Kyle’s company, and he was rich to boot. They had fun together and that was all there really was to it. Thinking too much about it would only lead to reservation, complication, and a whole host of considerations when Kyle would rather just preserve the good.

He went into to his bedroom and started to undress, shedding his jacket and then pulling off the tight tank top he had on. Kyle sighed as he eased his breasts out of the four bra cups they were bulging from somewhat. It was a familiar sight with the rate he was growing. All four had steadily advanced to E-cups in the past couple of weeks, and seemed to be engorged constantly. He was sure that all Milton’s playing and sucking didn’t help. But it felt heavenly, and the growth was just incidental to the pure, hot pleasure.

Kyle cursed quietly under his breath once he was completely topless, back arched as he breathed heavily, the four bloated globes heaving with his deep breathing.

He gingerly cupped his lower breasts with his hands. Hot, as usual, skin tingling.

Kyle eased himself back against his pillows, his arm reaching out to fumble on his nightstand. He pulled his specialized breast pumps onto the bed, the ones Milton had gotten for him. The suction pulled his milk through some tubing, then into a large bottle at the other end. Kyle wearily turned on the machine and attached the four suction cups to his nipples, then leaned back and groaned as his breasts were gently sucked.

He closed his eyes, imagining it was Milton sucking him, and felt himself hardening. His hand dipped into his boxers.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game with his body. His breasts were nearly impossible to hide at their current size. And yet, the strange transformation had significantly improved his life. He liked the pleasure. He liked the way Milton looked at him as though he was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Where the hell is Justin? The wonder niggled at the back of his mind.

Kyle allowed himself to submerge in the pleasure of being pumped.

He would deal with the rest later.