Bad Roommate, Part 9
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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.
-
Marta seemed to think she had lost her mind. She gave an indecipherable whisper as she stared at him with wide, terrified, eyes, before turning on her heel and fleeing. Later, when Pilar came by his room, and Justin showed the older woman what he was, she too ran off. But she returned within the hour rambling prayers and splashing Justin with what he presumed was holy water.
It wasn’t for another day that Marta came back. To check on him. To try to understand. Which was a steep order, because Justin hardly understood it himself.
And then maybe, she realized, that even if he were some malicious, supernatural being, he had already been nursing her son for a few days. Hector was no longer fussy, and had even managed to put on a little weight. So if Hector was doomed, she might as well be too. It was too late for Marta to claim his milk was poisonous. And it was too late for her to refuse temptation, at least in regards to her child. So if baby Hector risked damnation, she may as well risk it to.
She tasted his milk. Just a droplet, that she plucked up with the tip of her pointer finger. For a moment, her eyes went huge, but then drifted closed as she savored it, her finger in her mouth, her shoulders sagging. Finally, she gave Justin a look of wonder.
He nodded weakly, flustered and sweaty. “It’s just m-milk,” he managed. “I just want to help. Th-there’s so much of it. It—it’s almost h-hurting me.” He was still perched on the bed, his hands lightly cupping his hugely swollen mass. “We can help each other,” he whispered hoarsely. “You – you need food. And I—I….” He desperately needed relief. But getting the woman to taste his milk, and to drink directly from his nipple, were two different things. For the umpteenth time, Justin regretted leaving Kyle.
For a while, Marta just stared at him, looking unnerved. Pilar arrived, and lingered behind her daughter, whispering words Justin could not understand. They gazed down on him like the freak was.
Marta came closer. She reached down, resting a hand across Justin’s sweaty cheek. She closed her eyes and seemed to steel herself for a moment, then suddenly leaned down, smashing her lips to Justin’s belly-nipple with a force that made Justin yelp out.
As she sucked, Justin’s muscles practically seized, causing him to slump back and release a wheezy sigh.
Tears poured down his cheeks. He was just so heavy and so tight. He hadn’t thought there would be a way out of this predicament. Instead, Marta was offering him mercy where he didn’t deserve it. She took long draws and generous gulps, drinking with vigor, decreasing the pressure inside him if just marginally. He felt better than he had in ages, just laying there, allowing his head to fall back as he stared at the ceiling. It must have been fifteen minutes before Marta finally pulled back, wiping her lips on her sleeve.
“Delicious,” she whispered, sort of dazed.
Justin sniffed. “Thanks,” he managed, assuming that counted as a compliment.
“This is the first time I don’t feel hungry in a very long time.”
Justin nodded. “I think — maybe I’m like this, because I’m supposed to help people.”
“I think so too,” Marta said.
-
Marta began to bring over some of the babies in the neighborhood. She would tell the parents that she had a visitor at her house who could nurse them. It wasn’t a lie. Justin soon found himself with an infant or two on his chest at any given moment of the day. Many were thin and malnourished like Hector had been. Marta continued to nurse from his belly, now several times a day, seeming to even prefer his milk over rice. He knew his milk was thick, and probably nourishing. He knew that human-produced milk was one of the most nutritious things someone could consume.
And eventually, to Justin’s utter surprise, Pilar came around. She kneeled down and drink from his nipple while he was perched on the couch one evening. It lasted only five minutes, perhaps four minutes longer than the woman had intended, but when she pulled back, she appeared a bit stunned. Perhaps she had not anticipated how palatable it would be. Justin didn’t blame her. The whole situation was just bizarre, and it hardly seemed sanitary to suck fluid from someone’s body.
But things didn’t end with Pilar. One day, to Justin’s shock, Marta brought one of her neighbors over. Not a baby or a child, but a young man. Just like the others, he was very thin. Justin sat frozen as Marta guided the young man to the living room, muttering softly in Spanish to him, convincing him to approach. He gave Justin a wary look, and Justin tried not to squirm. It was hard to trust strangers when he was so vulnerable.
It took a good deal of convincing from Marta, for Justin to pull up his shirt, revealing the swollen pink nub. The young man whispered a curse, and even tried to retreat, but he was weak, and Marta pushed him forward. Justin remained stiff, his eyes averted and his face flushed.
Eventually, with an abundance of pressure from Marta, the young man leaned down. As with Marta, and Pilar, he submitted to his hunger above logic. He pressed his lips to Justin’s belly-nipple, causing Justin’s eyes to flutter down as the young man sucked. And, Justin mused, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be.
After that, Marta brought in an endless cycle of new faces. She would convince her neighbors, one by one, to visit Justin, and soon the whole community was in and out of Marta’s house. Once they got used to him, they would treat Justin lovingly, speaking to him, embracing him, or bringing him gifts before taking their turn to suckle. Justin found he now spent most of his time perched on the couch, arched back is someone fed from his belly-nipple. On the occasions that he got a break, he would pull up a thin sheet to cover the mound. Otherwise it was usually exposed, bulging out from his clothing. When mothers brought babies to see him, he usually gave the infants priority, clutching them to his chest as they drank the thinner milk produced there.
This went on for weeks, and Justin was proud to see that many people were putting on weight, Marta and Pilar included. The two woman looked far healthier than they had when Justin had first met them. Their faces had filled out and bodies had softened. One morning, Marta hurried out of her bedroom and came over to him on the couch, laughing and crying simultaneously. She plopped onto the cushion beside him and clasped his hands.
“Justin, I am, how do you say? I am making milk!”
It took a moment for Justin to process that. “What?”
Marta motioned to her chest, and Justin stared at the mounds there, which looked full and plump. They had blossomed from nothing to full C-cups, and he hadn’t even noticed. As she wasn’t wearing a bra, Justin could see how swollen Marta’s nipples were through the thin dress she had on.
“This morning I was able to feed Hector!” she told him.
“That’s amazing,” Justin said. And over the course of the day, he began to pay better attention to the women who came to see him. Many of them had put on a decent amount of weight, and now that he was searching, he could see that most of them had experience a good amount of breast growth. Most had C-cups, even D-cups, or larger. And they looked engorged. Justin could tell from experience how full and bloated their breasts were, too round to not be producing milk. Likely, many of these women would be able to nurse their own babies soon, if they weren’t already. It was really fate that Justin had ended up in this small, struggling city. He couldn’t have been happier.
Soon Justin wasn’t nearly as busy anymore. People stopped bringing their babies as much. Even many of the adults stopped visiting him as frequently. In the absence of hunger, people had developed hope, drive, and strength to work in some cases.
It was a trickle effect. Justin had single-handedly stimulated the local economy.
His milk was getting thicker. People were getting full faster when they drank from him. It also seemed to take people more effort to extract milk, sucking hard, their faces flushing. Even the milk he produced from the breasts on his chest was getting thicker, and children got fussy or irritable when they tried to nurse from him. All the parents stopped bringing their children to him altogether. Most of them didn’t need him anymore.
Justin was getting bigger. Even with all that he was able to release lately, his belly was only swelling. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten off the couch, but his belly was just massive. He estimated it was the size of a beach ball. It overflowed his lap and he was constantly clutching it, trying to keep it from spilling one way or another. Sometimes he felt like he could just teeter forward. His belly-nipple pointed in different directions based on his position, and was a huge bulging protrusion, close to the size of a tennis ball. It pulsated visibly, and left him breathless.
Justin knew he couldn’t stay here forever. The feedings grew fewer and farther between. The people didn’t need him anymore. He knew it was time to go home.
Despite Marta’s initial protests, she helped him get on his way. She cried, hugged what she could reach of him, and thanked him for all that he had done.
“You are part of this community. And you are part of my family,” she assured. Then she pulled back a few strands of his red wig, kissed his cheek, and saw him off.
-
Justin was no longer sure if he could pass as a pregnant woman. He seemed too huge even for that. He had gotten several community members to drain him thoroughly before his departure, but he was still incredibly heavy, and was wobbling forward at a snails-pace. The wig and the dust mask helped. There was a flu going around, so it was a relief to cover his face. It was so weird to be out of the small Latin community where he had spent his summer. It had become a secondary home to him, and he had felt truly accepted and appreciated for the first time since this whole thing had started.
It was a long and slow trip back to his college town, and his milk was coming in faster than ever. It only took a few hours before he felt uncomfortably engorged again. In another few, his face was strained and flushed, sweat trickling down his throat as he breathed thinly, and strained to bear his increasing weight.
He’d had to pay for two seats on the bus, because his belly was wider than the rest of his body, and would likely impose on anyone who attempted to sit beside him. People stared at him whenever they passed in the aisle. They would give him a passing glance, then freeze up, and practically double back to goggle at his inflated midsection. His swell was so large, it was pressing hard to the seat in front of him, practically squishing him there as he gasped for breath, whimpering and squirming. The jugs on his chest had swollen up to GGGs over the summer. He was just huge all over.
It was a relief to stagger back to campus, so heavy and delirious from fatigue by then, he could hardly notice the way people stopped in their tracks to gawk.
He was gripping his belly as tightly as he could, dragging himself forward one foot after the next. He felt like collapsing. He felt like bursting. He was breathing in heavy puffs, jaw clenched, eyes tearing up.
When he burst through his apartment door, the first thing he saw was Kyle, and Justin was so relieved he could cry.
But his relief was quickly undercut by the sight of Kyle’s body.
Kyle had changed. Kyle had…breasts. Two pairs of them. Justin’s jaw fell slack.
-
“Justin,” Kyle blurted in shock. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see Justin again.
Kyle was standing in the kitchenette holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He hadn’t been expecting any visitors, so hadn’t been particularly discrete about his developments when he had gotten dressed that morning. The two pairs of B-cup breasts were bulging evidently under the tight tank top. As Justin stared at them, Kyle blushed, but then Kyle found himself distracted by the sight of Justin’s own transformation. Justin’s belly was massive! He looked like he could barely stand up! “What…the hell,” Kyle managed, feeling himself salivate a bit. His sandwich dropped to the floor. He had just gotten over his addiction to Justin’s milk. And now it was back in his face, more bizarre and blatant than ever before.
Kyle tore his eyes away. No. He couldn’t do this anymore.
Justin managed to hobble inside, gripping hard on the doorframe, panting like a dog. “You — you have tits,” he gasped out, clutching at his heaving belly with his free hand. “A lot of them.”
Kyle gulped, his face hot. “Yeah, they kinda just…popped out of nowhere after you left. Weird shit.”
“Yeah…” Justin seemed to snap out of his reverie, his face contorting in discomfort. “Christ, man, you gotta help me. I’m about to blow…nrrgghhhh!” Justin arched, pressing his huge mass harder into the tent of a shirt he had on. And it really did look like it was inflating, some of the swell pushing out beneath the hem. The volleyball sized breasts on his chest wiggled as he struggled to breathe. The kid was a fucking whale, his huge belly spanning out several feet before him, his massive nipple looking as though it was contracting under the shirt. “C-Can’t—stand!” Justin gave a long groan and cursed.
“Shit, man,” Kyle hurried over, and helped Justin to wobble over to the couch, where Justin plopped down then whined out, his mass jerking.
With shaking hands, Kyle couldn’t help sliding up Justin’s shirt, just as milk, a small amount of it, began to ooze from his huge belly-nipple. It looked almost like pudding. It was practically too thick to even be considered milk anymore. Kyle licked his lips.
“Fuck, I need you man. Please,” Justin begged. The absurd red wig he had on toppled off his head as he arched again and moaned, shoving his belly out so hard it looked like he was trying to separate it from his body.
Kyle remembered the days of jonesing after Justin had left. He remembered how jittery and lost he had felt, the shaking, squirming and fidgeting. Then there had been the constant irritation of his ribs just under his pecs. The moles he had developed there — or what he had thought to be moles, when they had first started to develop. But these things were different, they were responsive, hardening, and reacting. They were developing and pushing out, until he realized he had developed a second pair of fucking nipples. And things had only gone batshit from there.
Thankfully they hadn’t grown beyond B-cups. Kyle was no longer ingesting Justin’s milk, and things had gotten under control with his hormones. He was a freak, but only when he didn’t disguise it. With a thick enough sweater, people hardly noticed.
But now Justin was back, and the temptation to drink was just painfully intense. He was supposed to have gotten past this.
“HELP ME!” Justin screamed. “GOD, I’M GONNA BLOW!” His belly gave a forceful heave, the mass flushed red, veins pushing to the surface.
And Kyle knew what he had to do.
