Bad Roommate, Part 17

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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

-

“Oh fuck,” Kyle breathed, unable to help marveling at his huge belly. Even after a long session with the breast pump, it still looked massive. Kyle just sat there panting, trying to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his skin dewy with sweat. He was suddenly reminded of Justin as he gazed at the way his own abdomen was stretching out his hoodie, some of the mound pushing out beneath the hem.

Kyle lightly shook his head, trying to shove those thoughts aside. He tugged again at his sweatshirt, trying to improve the coverage as he shuffled out of the bathroom, his stride feeling awkward. Fuck, was he starting to waddle?

“Look what you did,” Kyle said as he found Milton still sprawled languidly on the bed.

Milton responded with a low whistle, seeming impressed by his handiwork.

“I look pregnant,” Kyle went on, motioning roughly to his inflated stomach as he glared down at the other man. “I’m fucking waddling.”

“You are?” Milton said, sitting up slightly, his lip curling in amusement. And to Kyle’s disbelief, he could see that Milton was getting hard again. It was all just a game to him.

Fed up, Kyle turned and left the bedroom.

-

His body was relentless. It was constantly swelling up, working and producing greater quantities of milk. In the following days, Kyle found it prudent to just leave the pump attached to his belly-nipple. He sat back and played video games as it hummed and pumped, sometimes causing him to grunt or grimace, but he was getting used to the sensation.

He would lose track of time and let it run continuously, only coming out of his reverie when the gallon-sized tank overflowed and started spilling milk onto the floor. He would pause his game and try to clean up. His life had gotten truly bizarre.

“You still angry?”

Kyle looked up to see Milton standing in the living room doorway. Kyle must have truly lost track of time to not realize that Milton had come home from work.

Kyle looked away and returned to his clumsy efforts of leaning down and trying to gather up the heavy, overflowing container, moving awkwardly because of the huge mound sticking out from his torso.

Lately, he had been giving Milton the silent treatment. It was always strangely gratifying to see Milton sigh and walk off despondently to his bedroom after a long day at the office.

But today Milton wasn’t backing off.

“What are we doing here?” Milton said as he stepped forward.

Kyle stalled, not looking up. He was still sitting at the edge of the couch, the t-shirt he had on now skintight. It clung against the four plump, heavy F-cups on his chest, not even pulling halfway over the immense belly-breast presently perched against Kyle’s lap. Again, he glanced up at Milton, his lips twisted in a frown.

“You take that lactation pill every day,” Milton went on with increasing resolve. “Still do. ‘Cuz we both like seeing you grow. You like it. Don’t deny it.”

Kyle felt breathless. He never really thought about their little pill routine. It had gone on for weeks — maybe months. It was habit, really. Taking the supplement every morning, usually when Milton was around to see him do it. And as a consequence, Kyle filled up more.

“That’s the whole deal, the whole game,” Milton went on as he approached. “That’s why it’s fun.”

Milton leaned down, closing in, and Kyle couldn’t help gripping onto Milton's blazer. Just the conversation was turning them on. Taking the pills might have been truly insane, but it was also fucking intense. The heat, the fullness. The pressure was world-consuming. It was part of his being. Kyle could hardly make sense of his pleasurable dilemma.

Milton joined him on the couch, pulling him closer. Kyle’s belly pressed firmly into Milton, some milk seeping out, getting on Milton’s clothes. To Kyle, it all felt good. It felt warm.

Milton’s hands cupped the swell. “Beautiful.”

-

At the club, Milton always liked to flaunt their relationship, but also Kyle’s bizarre body. Kyle saw his condition as something secret and embarrassing, yet there was something strangely hot and illicit about his weird and sexual developments.

Kyle hardly knew where Milton got the custom clothes orders, but Kyle would still wear them. Presently, he was dressed in a button-down shirt that was tight and stretchy, buttons pulling apart in some places to show diamonds of flesh. He suspected that Milton had ordered it to just barely fit him.

Sometimes Kyle wondered what the other guys in the VIP lounge thought of him. Did they think that he had gotten cosmetic surgery? Did they think that he just kept gaining weight in the most unusual of places? Did they think he was a science experiment, or an alien? Were they all in denial or too inebriated to care either way?

It wasn’t as though Kyle had a monopoly on depravity. He saw all sorts of sordid things going down in the VIP area.

“Yeah, can’t believe summer is almost over.” Kyle was making small talk with some new guy as they both sipped drinks.

“Yeah...” said the guy, his gaze trailing between Kyle’s face and his torso repetitively. Sometimes he would look down at his scotch in concern.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Kyle from behind, reaching down to cup the swell of his belly. Kyle smiled as he leaned back against Milton’s chest. Milton gave a squeeze that made Kyle groan slightly, his face heating.

“Oh, this is Milton,” Kyle explained belatedly to the new guy, who was giving him a look of increasing bafflement. “Milton, I would like to introduce you to my new friend, Mr…ah…?”

“Fern,” he said. “But you’ll have to…excuse me. I think I need some water.” Fern smiled tightly and walked off.

Kyle looked down at his empty glass. He gently pulled away from Milton. “Need a drink myself. You want anything?”

“I’m set,” Milton responded, smiling in amusement as he watched Kyle waddle off. Kyle threw him a rude hand gesture, playfully.

Kyle left the VIP lounge and slipped into the main part of the club because the bar there had the type of vodka he favored. It was dark, and late, and everyone was drunk. Kyle doubted that anyone here would pay attention to him, and honestly, he was too buzzed to care.

He pushed his way through the throbbing bodies, grimacing as he tried his best to shield his belly with his arms from all the pressure and stimulation of it rubbing against the masses.

Kyle was sweating by the time he got across the dance floor. He had to press his belly hard into the bar just to lean over and talk to the bartender. He winced, cupping his side as he pulled back. He really did look like he was pregnant. Overdue, even.

Kyle breathed deeply as he waited for his drink, when he heard a soft chuckle beside him. Looking up, Kyle felt his face break into a smile. “Conrad, it’s been a while.” Kyle clinked his empty glass to Conrad’s full one.

“Work’s been busy,” Conrad responded, smiling back. “A good thing, I suppose.” He sipped his drink as he gave Kyle a onceover. But it wasn’t judgmental or disturbed. Humored, maybe. “Well, it looks like you’ve been having fun. Milton’s certainly done a number on your body.”

Kyle blushed but couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, we’re not the most…logical pairing. Or sane, for that matter.”

Conrad laughed heartily.

As Kyle again leaned on the bar to accept his drink from the bartender, a small gasp came up his throat, his eyes shuddering closed. Fuck, he thought, his hand moving to cup the dampening spot on his shirt at his navel. He usually had better control than this. He’d probably had too much to drink. Despite that thought, Kyle took a gulp of his Moscow mule.

Conrad was still smiling and watching him. “Time’s up?”

“Yeah, I…better head out.” Kyle blushed then downed the remainder of his beverage.

-

Sure, it was 4 AM, and he was pretty tipsy, but Kyle was finding it impossible to get out of the car, try as he might to heave his ass off the seat.

Milton chuckled as he came over, taking his hands, helping them up as the driver stared at them through the rearview mirror.

Yet it was unnerving. Memories of Justin flashed through Kyle’s mind again.

“Let’s go to bed,” Milton said as he pulled Kyle toward the door.

“I’m pretty full,” Kyle slurred as he absently cupped his tight belly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Milton giggled, continuing to drag him inside. Kyle had scarcely seen Milton so overtly drunk. It was so funny that Kyle forgot his prior concerns.

They got to bed, too tired and tipsy to change out of their clothes.

“Come ‘ere,” Milton muttered, eyes already closed.

Kyle reached vaguely towards him, the room blurring. Against his better judgment, he let his own eyelids drop.

-

“Oh god, oh fuck…”

Kyle squirmed as his belly-nipple was sucked, his stomach pink and sweaty, his face contorted in strain. He threw his head back, gasping and cursing. Milton had been at it for fifteen minutes and Kyle didn’t feel any less stuffed.

His fingers gripped Milton’s hair tighter, pulling him closer and harder against his packed belly. “God, suck me. Suck it harder. Fuhhhh…” Kyle clenched his jaw as he looked down at himself.

He should have known better than to fall asleep when he was so engorged. He looked more than pregnant — due with twins, he imagined. His belly was perched on his lap, his two pairs of fat breasts shelved by the mound. The front of his torso was just a collection of fat masses squished against each other. And shit, it was uncomfortable. Everything was so hot and full and engorged, but his gut felt the worst. His belly felt tight to bursting.

“Should I get the pump?” Milton said breathlessly as he pulled off, his face flushed from his efforts.

“No,” Kyle protested. “It-it’s better when you do it,” he managed between forceful gasps.

Milton looked dazed, maybe even tipsy. Was he somehow still drunk from last night, or was he…was he getting buzzed from Kyle’s milk? Was that even possible? Was that why they told nursing mothers not to drink alcohol? Kyle’s mind reeled at the thought.

“Right,” Milton said, still catching his breath. “Okay, so –”

Kyle impatiently fisted his hair and pulled him back down. Dutifully, Milton resumed drinking.

-

It must have been another twenty minutes before he let Milton stop.

“God,” Kyle breathed as he stretched out across the mattress, his breast pump now attached to his belly-nipple, extracting more of his milk, albeit slower than Milton could. Kyle’s belly was still round and plump but no longer stinging with pain; no longer looking as though it was about to pop.

Milton marveled at him. “God, you’re a machine.”

“No kidding,” Kyle huffed. He was exhausted. Just having this body was exhausting. Things were getting out of control. “I’m a fucking cow.” Kyle winced as he said it, but it was true. He was a milk-machine. Likely, he produced more than an actual cow could. He gave a hysterical little chuckle at the thought.

Milton rubbed Kyle's belly, idly.

“I’m growing so fast,” Kyle mumbled, eyes closing. “I-I almost couldn’t get up last night. From the car. Remember?”

“You were fine. You were drunk,” Milton responded dismissively as he continued to stroke Kyle’s round flesh.

But Kyle was still uneasy. Maybe they were going too far.

-

Becca was staying with them for a few weeks. Kyle hadn’t even known how close she and Milton were until Becca had shown up at the door, crying incoherently.

She was pregnant somehow she hadn’t known. Apparently her belly had just popped out in the third trimester, and the father wanted nothing to do with it.

Now she was hanging onto Milton for emotional support. She was like a groupie or something. Daddy issues, Kyle thought. He gave Milton a look from where he was sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

“You don’t know how much this sucks,” Becca whined, her voice muffled by the muffin she was chomping on. “Twins, Milton. I’m a freakin’ blimp.”

Honestly, Kyle couldn’t disagree. She was gigantic.

“You look fine,” Milton countered, but he had that wry curve to his lips. He promptly hid it behind his coffee mug. Of course he would find this funny.

“And my boobs have been feeling so weird lately. Now I know how you feel, Kyle.”

Kyle reddened and bit his tongue. He forced a smile as he returned his attention to the Robotics article he had been reading on his phone, his smile dropping again.

“Why don’t you get off your feet?” Milton suggested. Becca was hovering by the counter, rapidly demolishing the box of muffins Milton had just picked up not half hour ago.

“Yeah, sure,” was Becca’s bitter response as she gathered the box in her arms and waddled to the table.

She gripped the chair and sat down slowly, similar to the way Kyle sat, Kyle noted in mortification.

“I feel bad with you having to take care of me, all preggers and waddling,” Becca went on bitterly.

“Oh, I’m used to it,” Milton responded lightly. “I take care of Kyle, don’t I?”

He winked at Kyle, who felt his face redden more. “It’s not even close to the same situation, and I’m pretty sure I take care of myself,” Kyle said in irritation, glaring at Milton.

“Well, it’s similar, but…not really,” Becca added, at seeing Kyle’s dangerous look.

“I should get to work.” Milton stood.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head upstairs,” Kyle added, heaving himself up with some effort.

“Oh, don’t run off because of me. I’ll leave,” Becca said apologetically, also standing and turning, then suddenly she and Kyle’s bellies unexpectedly collided, two big bumps just squashing together.

Kyle was so startled, he felt himself seeping, his milk dampening the front of Becca’s maternity dress. Becca was full term with multiples, and as Kyle stared at both of their mounds, he found himself wondering if he wasn't bigger than she was.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, taking an awkward step back, his hands shooting down to cradle his swell.

“It’s okay!” Becca insisted, hands up in capitulation.

Milton just looked amused again.

“I, er, I’m g-gonna change,” Kyle said, and he left the kitchen.

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