Bad Roommate, Part 16 (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

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As usual, no member of the house staff laid eyes on Kyle. It was as though they had been directed not to, or perhaps were just in denial of Kyle’s sheer existence. Nevertheless, they loaded several dishes onto the table, placing the large arrangement of food directly in front of Kyle.

It wasn’t unusual. Milton did enjoy watching Kyle eat. A couple days a week Kyle stuffed himself like a pig for Milton’s sheer entertainment, but this — this was more than usual, and Kyle — well, he was already stuffed as it was.

“Looks good, right?” Milton practically taunted, motioning to a huge bowl of gooey macaroni and cheese. It had to be a gallon of the stuff. Undoubtedly it would be loaded with butter, cheese, heavy cream, and oils. “You know what we put in this?”

Kyle gulped. “My milk?” he rasped.

Milton nodded, his smile broadening. Over the past couple of weeks, he had found creative uses for the milk Kyle pumped before bed.

On the table was an equally large bowl of mashed potatoes, which looked just as buttery and thick with Kyle’s creamy milk. There was also a huge portion of some kind of thick chowder, a homemade pizza, and a chocolate cream pie.

“Dig in,” said Milton.

“C-can’t,” Kyle protested.

Milton reached into his pocket. When had he grabbed…? He opened the bottle of lactation supplement, pulling out a capsule, which he twisted open. She sprinkled the powdery contents over the mac & cheese. Kyle whimpered.

“Eat it all.” Milton dumped another capsule on the potatoes, stirring it in. “The longer you wait, the worse it’ll get.”

This was twisted. And yet, with a shaking hand, Kyle lifted a spoon.

He dug into the macaroni rapidly and greedily. Maybe it looked like he was putting on a show, but he honestly just wanted to get it over with. Kyle ate as fast as he could, ignoring the increasing tension in his already-stuffed abdomen. Spoon after spoon of macaroni was shoved into his mouth. It was so soft, he barely had to chew.

The bowl was what someone might use to make batter for a three-layer cake. The portion was huge, and Kyle hardly knew how he got through it. There was some compulsion there. Something underlying in the taste that compelled him to not stop. By the time he finished the macaroni, he was panting and sweating, leaning back in his chair and groaning pathetically as his hands lightly cradled his heaving belly.

Milton was smirking as he signaled to something off to the side. A waiter stepped forward, taking the empty bowl. Simultaneously, he slid the mashed potatoes closer to Kyle, so that it was directly in front of where Kyle sat at the head of the table.

Kyle was huffing and puffing, sweat trickling down the side of his face. He let his eyelids sink as he moaned quietly. Until he felt Milton’s broad hand grip his shoulder.

“Did I say you could stop?” said Milton.

“Fuck you,” Kyle groaned back. Nevertheless, he shifted himself to a more upright position with some awkwardness. A whimper came up his throat at a stray stitch of tension. He cupped the side of his mound as he cursed under his breath. Then finally, he turned his attention back to the food. With a shaking hand, Kyle lifted the spoon.

He veritably shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. It was so buttery, thick, greasy, and gooey. The undertones of milk were even more evident with this dish, and it was almost dizzying in its deliciousness. It was reminiscent of Justin’s in that regard. For a dazed moment, Kyle marveled at what he was able to produce. How his body could make something so objectively wonderful.

God, it was just so much. The pressure was insane. “Nnnngghh…” Kyle groaned, fingers ghosting over his stomach. His navel shuddered. It just seemed implausible that someone could be packed so full.

“Don’t leak,” Milton warned.

Kyle was a machine. He made short work of the pizza, greedily shoving slices into his mouth. He just kept pushing, kept eating mechanically, filling himself more. He felt so swollen. He could swear that his belly had gone up a size, even as he ate more, now stuffing forkfuls of chocolate cream pie into his mouth as a stray tear trickled down his cheek.

And fuck, it all still tasted amazing.

Kyle tore through the rest, gobbling it down, even starting to use his bare hands now. He had to get through this. Had to get it inside of him. He sucked and licked his fingers once the large pie dish was cleared. “Ohhh!” Kyle wheezed as his belly puffed oddly. He choked out as it gave another sharp contraction.

Milton was practically salivating as he watched. “One more thing.”

That was right. The chowder. Kyle had done things a bit backwards, going for dessert beforehand. He managed to reach out and grab hold of the soup pot, dragging it over, grunting as his belly pressed into the table with the motion. Still gasping for breath, Kyle tipped the pot towards him. It was time to finish this.

Milton stared on in morbid fascination.

Kyle began to drink directly from the pot, taking in food and fluid with forceful gulps. He tipped chowder directly into his mouth, not caring as some of it poured down his chin, getting on his shirt, making the coverage even worse as the material was pasted against him by moisture.

Kyle drank and drank, as much as he could; even beyond that. Because he knew if he stopped he wouldn’t be able to go on. The four breasts on his chest jiggled as his nipples ached and pushed out. His stomach grew to be painful, flesh tingling, belly-nipple aching for release.

It was a buttery clam chowder. There were pieces of potato, corn, shrimp, and lots and lots of thick heavy cream. Kyle’s cream. He was consuming so much of it, right back into his body. He moaned as he indulged and forced it down, feeling himself get fuller by the moment.

When Kyle finished, he could hardly breathe. It was over. He had eaten all the food.

His belly was pressing hard into the table now. He groaned as he clumsily tried to shove the chair back, feet scuffing against the floor. He was sweat-drenched, flushed, and overheated. His belly felt as though it was throbbing, and it looked considerably larger than it had before his meal had started.

Kyle leaned back in his chair, moaning quietly between his struggles to catch his breath. He had done what he’d been told. He just needed Milton to milk him.

“Get up,” said Milton.

The prospect was laughable. Kyle was just so tight. But Milton loved pushing him, and the man wasn’t letting up. Milton looked down at Kyle with that sternness and entitlement he had been born and raised with. Guys like Milton typically got what they wanted. Kyle knew as much.

So against his better judgment, Kyle braced his hands on the arms of the chair, even as his belly shuddered and strained. He gave a strangled cry as he forced himself to his feet, his abdomen feeling as though it might burst from the pressure. He gripped the table with one hand, his face contorted in strain.

“Fuck!” Kyle cried out between his gasps for breath. He didn’t look up, yet he could feel Milton’s rapt gaze on his body. “Please,” Kyle whined, the four breasts on his chest wiggling with his rapid breaths. “Aahhhh!” His belly seemed to tighten a notch, aching with pressure, skin stinging from the force of the contents within.

His belly was pushing entirely out of his shirt now. It was the firmest he had ever seen it. “C-can’t—I can’t…” Kyle choked as he cupped the swell. God, he looked fucking pregnant. He looked at term with a baby. “Just do it already!” he demanded frantically.

And finally, blessedly, Milton came closer. Milton placed his hands on either side of Kyle as he looked down at Kyle’s abdomen, appraising the round, smooth, jutting swell. Flushed pink and sweaty, navel impossibly huge, and even shuddering. Just pulsing to release the surplus of milk that lay within.

“Just one last thing,” said Milton. He raised a hand expectantly to the side of him, not even looking back as a servant promptly arrived with something and it was a — a canister of whipped cream?

Then Milton waved vaguely, and all the servants in the room marched out in a tidy file. They closed the door behind them, leaving Kyle and Milton alone.

It didn’t make a difference, if Kyle was being honest with himself. He was just that desperate. Kyle’s mouth went dry as Milton carelessly tore the cap off the canister and started — just started spraying fluffy mounds of whipped cream on Kyle’s navel, around his belly-nipple, completely covering it.

Kyle moaned quietly, almost dizzy from the anticipation, feverish from the heat saturating his overstuffed body.

And then finally…

Finally…

Milton knelt down, hands cupping either side of Kyle’s belly. He nosed at Kyle’s big belly-nipple, not seeming to care as whipped cream got all over his face. And just the contact —christ —

“Nrrgghhhh!” Kyle groaned as his belly tightened, pushing forward, pushing harder into Milton’s face. Milton jumped back in surprise, staring as Kyle struggled to bear his body tightening, getting fuller and heavier as it produced milk faster than he could expel it. He was filling up. Beyond capacity. He was making so much of it. He should have — should have —! “Errrghhhhhh!” Kyle arched as his belly shuddered forward. All four of his chest-nipples were squirting, but his belly would not relinquish its burden. Maybe it was an unconscious thing. Kyle was trained to hold everything. Not waste a drop. Wait for Milton. Emptying him was Milton’s job.

Milton crawled forward, his face an image of depraved excitement. “God you're hot, this is so fucking hot,” he rambled as he lightly bit down on the swollen, aching nub.

A flood of milk splashed right into Milton’s face. Milton leaned in, wrapping his mouth around the nipple, pressing his lips flush against Kyle’s skin, and it was the most wonderful thing Kyle had ever felt.

He gripped Milton’s shoulders if just to keep himself from falling over. “You’re so good,” Kyle mumbled deliriously as the pressure got to be a little less unbearable. “You’re so, so fucking good.”

But then Milton pulled off. Kyle opened eyes he hadn’t realized had fallen shut. Kyle’s heart sank as Milton climbed to his feet to face him. Milton had hardly taken the edge off the pressure, and Kyle was still severely engorged.

“Relax,” said Milton at seeing Kyle’s fallen expression. “We’ll get to that. And more. Let’s have some fun with it.”

“Let’s have fun after you suck me,” Kyle protested, as he indicated his huge belly.

“Kid, we both know the sex is better when you’re packed with milk.”

Kyle gulped. Milton wasn’t lying. Maybe it was the heat, the tension, or the pressure on his sex organs, but Kyle had his best orgasms when he was fully engorged.

Kyle looked down at himself. This was too extreme. “J-just drink a little,” he pleaded, because felt like he was about to pop.

“I did,” Milton countered, as he turned Kyle to face the table again. Milton reached around him to undo the waistband of Kyle’s pants. Then Milton’s hands cupped Kyle’s under-belly.

Kyle yelped as Milton’s chest pressed harder into his back, causing Kyle’s belly-breast to jam into the edge of the table. They hooked up routinely here, but things seemed to have gotten trickier since Kyle’s latest bout of growth. “Fuck,” Kyle cried, shoving Milton, causing the older man to stumble. Milton caught him around the abdomen, causing the most undignified shriek Kyle had ever heard to come up his own throat.

Kyle stood there gasping, squirming, rubbing his belly gently, cheeks red and gut stinging. And somehow he was even more turned on than he had been before. “Let’s just go to the bedroom.”

“Fair,” said Milton.

In only moments, Kyle was on his knees on the bed, gripping the headboard, his five breasts jiggling with each of Milton’s thrusts. His nipples would squirt each time, making a mess. But Kyle wasn’t feeling much relief. He couldn’t detect the pressure in his belly-breast decreasing, at least not noticeably. He needed to be drained. But fuck this felt good, the tightness adding to the cumulating tension. Suddenly Milton pushed him down, shoving him to all fours. Kyle noticed that his belly was so big that it pressed against the mattress in this position. He shivered, then he lost it, crying out as he orgasmed and all his nipples started spraying again. Milton wasn’t far behind, Kyle arching and groaning as he ceded to the overlapping waves of pleasure vibrating through his body. He felt his belly pulse and tighten — get so tight it was painful, shoving and shivering as Kyle struggled to bare it.

Then it was over. Kyle must have passed out.

When he came to, he felt awful, cradled there in Milton’s arms. “God,” he choked out. He grunted as his belly shuddered. “I’m getting huge.”

“You passed huge two weeks ago,” returned Milton’s smug, sleepy voice. He opened his eyes and joined Kyle in marveling at the swell.

“Fuck off,” said Kyle dazedly, squirming to move, but Milton just held him more securely. “Oh god,” Kyle breathed, sinking back against Milton’s chest. “Oh god.” He had to get up. Had to pump. Yet all he did was stare at the huge orb, completely horrified. Things had rapidly gone to an extreme.

“I like you huge,” Milton was against his nape, pulling Kyle fully into his lap. “I like watching you grow. God, you’re so big now.”

“Fuck, Milton,” Kyle whimpered.

“Look at you,” said Milton wistfully. “Just look at you. Fucking incredible.” Milton’s hands began to massage Kyle’s tight belly.

Kyle arched, groaned, and grew.

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