Bad Roommate, Part 10

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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 

-

Kyle pressed his lips against Justin’s giant, throbbing nub, the whole of it no longer able to fit into Kyle’s mouth. It had gotten too large. It was all just bizarre, how real this was. Kyle found himself accepting it all over again. The uniqueness, but also the singularity of it. Something like this had never occurred before, and would probably never happen again. So despite that Kyle knew this was bad for him, he couldn’t help savoring it, as he took a long, hard, suck.

Justin groaned out, his eyelids shuttering and his shoulders sagging. “So…tight…” he moaned.

It was heavy. Probably the heaviest thing Kyle had ever consumed. The substance was thick and dense, sweet but soft. It had the consistency of a very thick pudding and was almost buttery somehow. Overall, the milk was incredibly delicious. But after just a few gulps, Kyle’s stomach was full, and his cheeks started to ache from having to suck so hard. The substance was difficult to extract by then. Kyle didn’t know why things had taken this course, but despite the change in consistency, Justin’s milk had only gotten more delicious. So even despite that it was too heavy and too hard to draw out, Kyle couldn’t help trying. He sucked and sucked, until his face was red. Then he sucked some more, filling himself till his belly started to ache from tightness. Justin squirmed and moaned all the while, looking squashed beneath the mass of his belly-boob. Kyle didn’t know if it was getting any less tight. He grasped what he could reach of it, the span of both his arms unable to enclose it. But he clutched at it, allowing his fingers to sink into the plump, heated flesh.

“Unnnghhh…fuhhhh…” Justin groaned.

Kyle wasn’t sure how, but he drank for hours. He had missed it too much. He was completely addicted. He sucked it down until he thought he was going to retch. Only then, as he started gagging, did he pull away, holding his gut. “Fuck,” he breathed.

Justin lay there slumped, hardly consciously.

And Kyle didn’t know where things would go from there.

-

That evening, Kyle found himself at his favorite dive bar only a few blocks away from campus. He didn’t have answers but he had alcohol, and sometimes that was all that mattered.

He was five tequila shots in when he felt a sudden surge of heat in his chest. He scrunched up his face, his grip tensing on his glass as his four breasts tingled and filled with tension, his nipples stinging as his jacket subtly tightened. He grunted and cupped his breasts through the jacket, astounded to feel them pushing forward, their increasing girth now causing his coat to push out, revealing the shape of them. He gawked down at himself, both amazed and disturbed. He’d estimate that they had gone up a full cup size in the span of seconds. “What the fuck,” he whispered, now hunching and folding his arms, wincing at how sensitive and achy his nipples were. He glanced around the bar and it was unsurprisingly dead for a Wednesday night. No one had noticed his weird growth spurt. “’the fuck…” he muttered again, shaking his head. What was he doing himself? He had to stop drinking Kyle’s milk. It was truly fucking with his body.

Someone sat down beside him. It was a well-dressed man, a little older than Kyle was. The guy threw a glance and a smile Kyle’s way. “Can I buy you a drink? You look like he could use one.”

Kyle was flustered, and even a little paranoid, but as he examined the stranger, it seemed clear that the guy was just being friendly. Kyle slowly uncoiled, even lowering his arms. The stranger’s gaze didn’t stray towards Kyle’s chest. Maybe the growth wasn’t so obvious. Then again, who would even suspect such a thing? “Yeah, sure,” said Kyle. He, indeed, could use another drink.

“Whiskey?”

“Why not?” Kyle wasn’t picky.

The stranger ordered two whiskeys and slid one over to Kyle.

There was an old proverb about not mixing drinks but Kyle couldn’t have given two fucks at the moment. The whiskey was smooth and sweet, and seemed to warm his insides.

“You know, a few of us are heading next door. The place is a little classier, but certainly more fun. You should come along.”

“Yeah,” said Kyle. It wasn’t as though he had any better ideas.

Kyle paid his tab and followed the smooth stranger out of the dingy little bar, onto the street, down an alley, then through the door of what looked to be an old warehouse. But as he stepped inside, Kyle realized that this couldn’t have been further from the truth. It wasn’t nightclub, the place packed, people drinking and dancing, the servers and bartenders all dressed in black, skimpy attire, that didn’t even seem appropriate as swimwear. The place was huge, lights flashing, greens and golds. The music was deafening. It wasn’t exactly Kyle’s scene, but he couldn’t help being mesmerized by it all.

Before Kyle could wander off and disappear into the crowd, a hand grabbed his shoulder. It was the same stranger.

“This way!” the man called over the music, pulling Kyle towards the back. Through a door, down a corridor, then into a room that was much smaller than the main floor, but still spacious, and much calmer. The music was soft, the place simultaneously sumptuous and cozy. There was a bar and some seating around a large table. It gave the place a communal feel.

“Conrad, I was wondering if you would show up tonight,” someone called. It was an older man, seated with some others, including one of the venue’s servers, judging by the black thong and bandeau the girl had on. He had his arm casually draped about her shoulders as she shuffled a deck of cards.

“So was I. Slow night at the office,” said the guy with Kyle: Conrad, apparently.

“You playing?”

“I suppose I’ll just spectate tonight, Milton. Oh, I brought a friend. Seemed like he could use some excitement.”

It wasn’t all a card game. Only three people seemed to be playing. It seemed more like your standard VIP section of any club or event, if a little fancier. Everyone was well-dressed and well spoken. When Kyle noticed that the drinks seemed to be on the house, he got himself a seat.

It was warm back there. The jacket was stifling. Kyle lowered his zipper, if just a little bit. Just to breathe. No one paid him any mind anyway.

“Can they send in more girls? This is getting depressing,” said a stocky man in a fine Italian suit. He was holding a blunt in the same hand that clutched his drink.

“Some young men as well,” said another man with a twisted smile. His hair was slicked back into a bouffant, and retroactive as it was, he pulled it off well.

“Sorry Gregory, it’s a busy night,” said the scantily clad server as she finished dealing cards. “Chad says he’s running late as well.”

“Isn’t that one your favorite?” Milton asked.

“Nonsense,” said Gregory, the man with the bouffant. “You know I don’t play favorites. Though Chad does have a great ass.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” Milton said.

The door opened again and some girls strolled in, one of them completely topless. Kyle couldn’t help the inane grin that crossed his face. So these were the entertainers.

Kyle yelped as a girl plopped right down into his lap. She was dressed in some black lace lingerie that was especially strappy, complete with garters. “Oopsies,” she said, poking Kyle in the chest. “Scuse me.”

“About time,” growled Milton, as the server under his arm slipped off. “Come over here,” he motioned to one of the girls. “Tell me what you think of this hand.”

“He’s not talking about the cards,” the sole woman at the table piped in. She was dressed in a blouse and pencil skirt, long hair tied back in a ponytail.

Kyle sat back and watched. He swung his arm around the girl in his lap, as there seemed like no other place to put it out wasn’t awkward. “Rum and coke,” he mentioned as the servered look his way.

His drink was served promptly, and subsequently replaced every time it got more than halfway empty. He could hear banter around him, in his periphery, but the world was getting hazy. He just kept drinking. At one point, the stocky man offered him a pull of his blunt. Kyle accepted. He took more than a pull.

His zipper went down another notch. Maybe it was the way the girl giggled and bobbed against him as she conversed and gesticulated, while still using Kyle as a chair. Maybe Kyle had pulled it down himself. It was awfully hot back there. And it wasn’t as though anyone noticed. Even when the girl pressed her back against his chest, causing him to stiffen and groan, she didn’t notice the absurdity of his form. Everyone was pleasantly buzzed, happily chatting, or playing cards. A pair off to the side were talking business. Investments and such. Kyle just nodded and smiled and drank.

Another notch, or two, or three. He wasn’t sure when this happened, or why it occurred, or if he was even okay with it. He just glanced down and noticed his own cleavage for the first time. He had cleavage. Then he saw that his jacket was completely open, partially hanging off one of his shoulders, and everything was exposed.

Now other people noticed. The stocky guy was giving him the queerest of looks, and Conrad was staring, his jaw hanging. The girl in Kyle’s lap gave a titter and poked at his tits, causing Kyle to curse and wince. He shoved her off as her face went solemn.

“What the hell are those?” she howled.

“It’s…um…it’s a medical condition,” said Kyle as he fumbled with his jacket, then failed at several attempts to connect one side of the zipper to the other.

“They look like boobs!”

“They…er…well, they are.” What the hell was he saying? A strange, hysterical giggle escaped his lips. “I’m a freak of nature.”

“Stop messing with us, kid.”

Then Kyle’s fingers were working on their own. He started to unbutton his shirt.

Then he blacked out.

-

Kyle awoke with a groan. His head was pounding. A glance at his clock told him that it was three in the afternoon and he had missed his morning classes.

He couldn’t remember much about the latter half of his evening, or how he had gotten home, but he could remember bits and pieces; fleeting images of the people in the VIP room pointing or gawking, other times laughing. He could remember someone…touching him, as he groaned and arched and allowed it. He could remember the sensation of a hot tongue... Just the memory left his face burning and flesh tingling. Kyle looked down at himself, unsurprised to see his shirt buttoned crookedly, and only up the his navel. His jacket, meanwhile, was nowhere in sight. He didn’t think he had ever been so drunk in his life. His weary hands slowly slid up, cupping his lower pair of breasts. He grimaced at how sensitive they were, and how truly sore his nipples were. But also at the bloated sensation that now occupied them. He wasn’t sure, but they looked fuller; rounder than the last time he had checked. He estimated that they were a solid C cup. This was going to be harder to disguise, but he would have to manage.

Kyle slowly climbed out of bed, feeling dizzy. He was going to need some aspirin or something. As he shifted, he noticed that there was something in the pockets of his jeans. He reached inside and pulled out some paper — no, money. He stared down at the crumpled bills in his hands. There had to be a couple thousand dollars.

Kyle was astounded. Who had given him the money? What was it for? Shit, he wished she could remember. He had been so fucking wasted, he didn’t even know how he’d found his way home.

But the money was welcome. Ever since Justin had disappeared over the summer, the payments from Kyle’s secret employer had run dry. Kyle didn’t know if things would change now that Justin was back, but Kyle was behind in rent and all his bills. She needed money desperately. But he couldn’t keep this. Could he? He just wished she could figure out what was going on. Maybe if he went back; maybe tonight.

And so it was decided. Kyle would swing by the club and see if anyone was missing a couple thousand bucks. If no one mentioned it, Kyle would just assume that the money was his to keep. It would be that simple. Kyle drew in a deep breath and sat back down on the bed.

“Kyle!” Justin cried from the next room. “Kyle! I need you! Nrrgggghh!”

Kyle rubbed his bleary eyes. His stomach ached in hunger, his mouth watering at the thought of indulging. He resolved not to have anything else to drink when he went back to that club that night, but Justin’s milk was a different story.

I owe him, Kyle rationalized as he got up from the bed for the second time. He gingerly walked out of his bedroom, buttoning up the rest of his shirt in the process.