Bad Roommate, Part 11 - Female Version (Patreon)

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Note: This is a female version of Bad Roommate.

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 

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Alex's belly was bloated, probably from all of her recent overindulgences. She couldn’t say that she was feeling remotely confident that evening, but she pulled on a clean white blouse and paired it with a skirt. She scrutinized herself in the bathroom mirror, feeling self-conscious of every crease and curve. She smoothed out her shirt repetitively. But the attire was loose enough that her changes weren’t blatant. She noticed that with the recent growth, there was a lot more movement. Jiggling and bobbing. There was also the significant discomfort of her nipples rubbing into her clothing. The nubs were just really sensitive lately. They stood pink and erect, bulging out through the thin cotton. Alex grabbed a cardigan and pulled that on as well.

Alex cupped the underside of her lower right breast. Absently, she thought that she could use a little support. Maybe a strapless bra would work. Or a bandeau, even.

God, she was such a mess. She had four fucking breasts, and was now thinking about getting a bra for the lower pair. “Fuck my life,” Alex thought as she walked out of the apartment.

-

When she arrived at the club, she was admittedly apprehensive. She wasn’t sure how to face these people after they had found out…what she was, and all. It was still a little early so the crowd was thin. Alex parked herself at the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey despite her better judgment. She knew drinking was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, but she desperately needed something to take the edge off. It’s gonna be fine, she silently assured herself. She would go to the back room, say her hellos, and see if anyone was missing the money. It wouldn’t take more than an hour.

By the time Alex came out of her reverie and looked around, the club was alive, the dance floor packed. A glance at her watch told her that it was after midnight. Now or never. Finishing off the beer she had been nursing, she climbed off her stool and smoothed down her cardigan.

The place was packed now, bodies writhing. Alex shoved her way through the dance floor, crossing it entirely, and she had to practically feel along the wall to find the dark door that was almost secret in its subtlety. She slid it open, walked down the corridor, and emerged into the room she had visited the night before.

When Alex walked in, no one noticed her at first. It was strangely anticlimactic because she had honestly expected an onslaught of stares and accusations. But the small group was just drinking and chattering amongst themselves. There was Milton, and Gregory, as well as a young woman in a minidress Alex had not seen the night before. She didn’t see Conrad there, but the businesswoman was, as well as a stocky, almost heavyset, man, who looked familiar. He might have arrived later the previous evening, after Alex had already gotten wasted. Yes, his name might’ve been Grayson. Then again, Alex could have been entirely off.

Alex walked deeper inside, kind of lingering on the periphery of things. She was too nervous to talk, but knew that her lurking presence would quickly become awkward if it wasn’t already.

Milton threw her a glance. “Ah, four-eyes is here!”

Alex didn’t wear glasses. It took her a moment to make sense of the nickname.

Gregory twisted his neck to look, a wide grin spreading over his face. “Doubles, baby, you’re back!”

Alexs face heated up. “Yeah, um, I was in the area. Just wanted to say hi,” she managed, unconsciously tugging her cardigan around herself.

“Take a seat,” said Milton. “Stay a while.”

“I p-probably can’t stay long,” Alex said, but she reluctantly joined them on the large leather couch that curved around the table. Alex stayed at the edge so that she could make a quick escape if necessary. Of course, as soon as she did, an entertainer squished down beside her, blocking Alex in.

“Becca, this is the girl I was telling you about,” Milton told the skinny young woman in the skimpy dress.

“Yeah right,” said Becca, playfully slapping Milton’s shoulder. She grinned at Alex through her curtains of long hair. “Milton’s an idiot. He was trying to tell me that you had extra boobs or something. Like a whole other set.” She burst into giggles. Clearly she’d had a couple of drinks.

Alex pressed her lips and looked down. It took a moment before Becca noticed Alex’s clear discomfort. Then Becca looked back at Milton. “Stop fucking with me!” she laughed.

“Is Conrad here?” Alex tried to change the subject. “Actually, I should probably get going.” This had been a bad idea. She could just go to the bar and report the money lost or something.

“He’s on his way,” Milton said as he threw one of his arms over the back of the couch, sort of behind Alex. “Give it a couple minutes. He would want to say hi.”

Alex supposed she could wait. Conrad was the only other person she could remember who had been there the night before. And if none of them inquired about the money, Alex would feel much more comfortable keeping it. Finders keepers, and all that.

“Have a drink,” Gregory insisted in his drawling voice.

Alex knew that she shouldn’t, but the anxiety was getting to her. Her heart was racing, and her lungs felt compressed. So she nodded. “I’ll take a beer,” she managed.

But not a moment later, a server arrived with a tray of tequila shots and settled one in front of each person, Alex included. Alex didn’t refuse it. Everyone clinked glasses, then Alex downed hers. Just to take the edge off, some more.

She began to relax, trying to nod and pay attention to the surrounding conversations, but not actively participating. People came and went throughout the night, and they were up to about a dozen people around the table. When the couch filled up, people pulled up chairs. Alex sipped the beer she was served any time it looked like someone might expect her to speak.

She was seated beside Milton. The man looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, was clean-cut, and had this sense of authority about him. He just smirked and nodded, and offered sparing words to Rebecca as she talked enthusiastically about her dog and her roommate, and an ongoing feud with one of her colleagues at the investment firm where she worked.

Milton could appreciate her dialogue, but not relate. He didn’t seem like a 9-to-5 type of guy. He appeared more like someone in upper management, an executive type. He was content to drink and listen to Becca talk excessively in her inebriation. And when he did speak, it was kind. Words that made people comfortable, or encouraged them to stay. He asked how people were feeling. Asked if they needed a drink. It was just his personality, this constructive geniality.

“I have some cubans in my car,” one man said. That guy, Grayson.

“Not tonight,” Milton responded. “You know I’m trying to cut back.”

“Didn’t look like it yesterday,” said Grayson.

“Well it was a special occasion, Gib. We made a new friend. I was just trying to keep up.” Milton threw his arm around Alex's shoulders, he and Grayson—Gibson?—laughing.

“God, was I smoking?” said Alex, unable to help a nervous grin. She appreciated that they were trying to include her even if she didn’t particularly want anyone’s attention.

“You weren’t smoking cubans,” Gibson said, and the three of them laughed. “Something a little stronger.”

Then Milton’s hand wrapped around her did something odd. It’s slipped down to Alex’s waist. Alex instinctively stiffened.

“Can we have another round of shots,” Milton called out.

But when the skimpy server brought them over, Alex refused. She was already quite buzzed.

She didn’t know why she didn’t pull Milton’s hand out from around her shoulders. It wasn’t as though it was aggressive or anything. It could be a friendly gesture, kind of.

The contact continued to progress. Alex’s breath hitched as she felt Milton’s fingers dip under her shirt to touch her skin, his hand now cupping Alex’s waist bare. But he didn’t stop there. It crept up, slowly. All the while, Milton carried on with his conversation with others, and Alex sat frozen.

“I appreciate the tip,” Milton was saying to some guy, Smitty, who was sitting across the table. “But I stopped trading last year.”

“I thought you had people handle that for you,” said Smitty, a thin man who had one of those perpetually-unimpressed faces.

“Not anymore,” said Gregory with a grin. “Tell them how much you lost on that mutual fund.”

Milton’s hand made contact with Alex’s lower left breast, cupping it casually. Alex felt heat pooling in her cheeks. She sat there awkwardly silent, hardly able to breathe. She thought it must have been obvious; Milton groping her under her shirt. But the others either didn’t notice or pretended not to. His fingers rubbed, and she couldn’t help leaning into it.

“I’d honestly prefer to forget about that,” said Milton tersely, his hand momentarily pausing where it had been idly rubbing at Alex’s breast.

Gregory cackled while Gibson just scoffed and shook his head.

“All those fuckers are useless,” Gibson noted before taking another drag from his cigar.

“Well, sometimes traders get overconfident, don’t they?” said Smitty.

“You’reoverconfident,” said Gibson.

Milton’s fingers continued their idle fondling as his palm cradled Alex’s breast. He started to finger the nipple, causing Alex’s mouth to open, a small grunt escaping her throat. Milton squeezed, and Alex’s eyes shuttered closed as she attempted to force air into her lungs. She couldn’t believe how sensitive they were.

Milton gave another squeeze. Alex pressed her lips tight, struggling to contain a groan.

“You okay there, four-eyes?” said Gregory, looking amused.

“I… um…” Alex was mortified. She grabbed the new tequila shot that had been left in front of her and downed it.

“One of those nights, huh?” said Gregory, deriving chuckles from the others. Now everyone’s attention was on Alex.

“Uh…I — I have to go to the bathroom,” Alex said, practically shoving the entertainer beside her off the couch in her efforts to get out. Milton’s hand tore out of her shirt and Alex hurried off in a daze.

When she got to the bathroom, she went straight to the sink and splashed her face with cool water. Then, as she tried to catch her breath, she unbuttoned the top of her shirt, looking down at the four breasts perched there.

The lower left one, the one Milton had been fondling, felt hot and tingly, and even looked a little bloated. The nipple was darker than the other ones, probably from all the irritation. And it just felt extraordinarily warm.

Alex tensed as she heard the bathroom door open behind her. She quickly began to button her shirt back up and could see Milton approaching through the mirror.

“Alex,” Milton said, grabbing her shoulder.

Alex spun around to face him, then grabbed him and kissed him. Kissed him hard and desperate, their hands all over each other. Milton’s fingers were back on Alex’s chest, quickly undoing the remaining buttons until Alex’s shirt fell open. Milton then pushed the top and the cardigan aside, now groping unreservedly, cupping and squeezing, rubbing into the sensitive pink nubs there.

Alex moaned and arched. “Christ,” she breathed.

Milton shoved her into the wall then leaned down, licking and kissing Alex’s breasts to finally take a nipple right into his mouth.

As he sucked, Alex swore and gripped his hair, hardly able to hold it together. She couldn’t believe how fucking good it felt. One breast at a time, Milton licked, nuzzled, teased, and sucked.

“Knew you’d come back, four-eyes,” Milton said against her flesh. “I’m usually not a chubby-chaser. But I love your tits. Love how freaky it is.”

“Unnghhh…” Alex was confused at being called “chubby,” as she had a slim build. But then she remembered how bloated her stomach was getting recently. She wasn’t nearly fat, but she supposed, to a man with high standards, like Milton, maybe she was.

Soon all four breasts felt very warm and strangely heavy. Her nipples were aching delightfully.

As Alex buttoned her shirt back up, she could see how prominently her nipples stood out, really bulging against the fabric. She pulled her cardigan around herself, but the curves of her four breasts were still quite evident somehow. As odd as the hot, tingling sensation was, Alex couldn’t deny that it felt really, really good. She was dizzy from the onslaught of sensation, but also entirely blissful. She couldn’t believe what they'd just done.

Milton pulled out his wallet, counted several bills, then offered Alex the whole wad.

Alex blinked down at it. “What?” she said blankly.

“Just a gift,” said Milton with an easy smile. When Alex didn’t take the money, Milton tucked it into Alex’s cardigan pocket, his eyes idly running over Alex’s body.

Alex stammered, “I — I’m not a hooker—”

“Don’t overreact, honey. You showed up at this club wearing running shoes.” He nodded down towards Alex’s admittedly old shoes. “Figured you could use it.”

“I, er, well I’m a college student,” Alex said stupidly.

“Good,” said Milton. “Get yourself some heels. Flats. Whatever.” He turned, and before he walked off, he called back to Alex, “See you next weekend?” He looked so assured of it.

Then he left.