Medication, Part 3 - Female Version

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Note: This is a female version of Medication.

Summary: All her life, Tris’s mother forced her to take a daily medication, but never really told her why. After Tris goes off to college, she starts skipping doses, and finally realizes just what the medication is for. Monthly expansion. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.

Previous Chapter

-

“Oh Tris!” said her mother the moment the door opened.

Looking at the squirming bundle in Tris’ arms, her mother’s eyes filled with tears. She pulled Tris into a gentle hug.

A few moments later Tris was seated on an armchair in the living room, the infant gurgling in her lap. The baby started making fretful whimpers, as though threatening to cry.

Tris’s mother brought over a cup of tea. “How are you feeling?”

“Frankly, exhausted.” Tris held her gaze.

Her mother sat down opposite her, biting her lip.

“I was understandably—surprised—by this little one’s arrival.” Tris returned her gaze to the baby.

“What’s his name?”

“Haven’t gotten to that yet,” Tris admitted. “Mum—what the hell is going on?”

Her mother gazed absently on the newborn. “I’m sorry I never told you…I was honestly hoping you wouldn’t find out. And certainly not like this,” she choked out.

“Mum, just tell me,” Tris entreated wearily.

Her mother sat back against the couch cushions, her face grim. “It’s the family curse, Tris. You see…a few hundred years ago, our bloodline was cursed by a strong magician named Adam. Now the first person to come of age in our family within each new century will spontaneously begin to—well…”

Tris looked down at the child in her lap, and swallowed.

“You’ll notice, Tris, that you don’t have any cousins. We’ve done our best to contain our bloodline over the years, figuring that eventually we would die out. My aunt Patricia may have been hit by the curse, but of course, she died before she even came of age. And then it passed to me.”

Tris’s eyes widened. “Was I—?”

“No, dear,” said her mother hurriedly. “I didn’t need any children, but your father wanted you so badly. We planned for you. We chose for you to come to be. You are not a product of the curse,” she told her firmly.

Tris managed a nod. Her eyes instinctively flickered to the framed photo of her and her father sitting on the coffee table. They stood together on the beach, displaying a bright orange kite proudly. Tris had to be eight or so. Right before her father had fallen ill.

Tris returned her attention to her mother.

“The curse affects the descendent, regardless of gender,” Tris’s mother continued. “But there are work-arounds. The pill—it’s a form of birth control.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Tris in frustration. She grimaced as the baby started to cry.

“I was just trying to protect you,” said her mother, her tears spilling from her eyes.

“Mum—don’t.” Tris hardly had the energy to comfort her mother in addition to the infant as well as herself. She cringed as her nipples burned and seeped into her sweater, her body betraying her, in favor of this newborn. “I…I think I have to…”

Her mother stood. “I’ll give you some privacy.” And she walked out of the room.

With a sigh, Tris began to peel back her clothing, to reveal her breasts, which were plump and round, nipples dripping keenly. She lifted the baby gingerly and allowed him to attach. The snuffles ceased.

She closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and vowed not to miss another dose ever again.

-

She named him Eric.

Tris spent a week at her mother’s house bonding with her son, at least until her mother began to pester her to go back to college.

It seemed an unreasonable request. She was a brand new parent, and had been thrust into things completely unprepared. She was exhausted, anxious, and her body had not recovered at all from the birth. She could hardly remember the baby’s feeding schedule, let alone her readings for her upcoming finals.

But her mother was insistent that she continue her education, that it couldn’t be delayed just because of a missed pill.

At first Tris outright refused. She was too new to parenthood. She was just getting to know the baby. She was affronted that her mother would simplify her child’s existence in such crass terms. It took her a day of sulking, but she slowly came to sympathize with her mother’s perspective on things.

Her mother did not want her to disrupt her life because of a curse. As it was, the magician—Adam—was winning. The curse had thrown Tris’s life off-kilter, and had put everything that she had been working towards on hold.

The baby was loved dearly by her mother. Tris knew that. It didn’t make it any easier to kiss him goodbye.

-

By sophomore year, Tris had gotten back into shape.

It had taken some disciplined dieting in combination with daily cardio at the gym.

She visited her mother, and Eric, on weekends and holidays, and thought about the baby constantly, but she tried to resume being a normal nineteen-year-old. You can worry about parenting later, her mother would tell her following each of her many daily calls to inquire about the baby.

Tris allowed herself to relax a little. She resumed sports, and occasionally would go out drinking with her friends.

“Oh—sorry,” said Tris at a club one evening, after crashing into a stranger on her way out of the bathroom.

“No worries,” said the dark-eyed man, helping keep Tris balanced by holding her shoulders. There was something about her gaze that was unnerving, but Tris brushed it off.

Tris joined her friends back at the bar, where she bought the next round of shots and laughed the night away. She drank and danced, and stepped outside to smoke weed on several occasions. Soon the club was a vortex of flashing lights, pulsing music, and throbbing bodies.

Tris was so hungover the following day, she slept through two different phone alarms.

-

It didn’t take long for Tris to take notice of her rounding abdomen. She had been in denial for almost a week, but it was becoming fairly evident. She cursed profusely and destroyed her favorite coffee mug. Then she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her panic.

She had missed a dose. Obviously. She tried to think back to when it had occurred, but did it even matter? It made no difference when it had happened, because regardless, she was pregnant again.

Her belly was expanding rapidly throughout the month. For once, she could see how profoundly this pregnancy was changing her body, on a day-to-day basis. Her breasts were getting bloated, nipples larger, and protruding visibly.

She tried to eat healthier this time around, and hopefully avoid the weight gain getting completely out of control.

She didn’t know what she was going to tell her mother. She was mortified and ashamed that she had made such a monumental mistake twice in two years. Her mum had her work cut out for her with Eric, and now Tris was dumping another baby into her arms.

Tris continued to play sports for as long as she thought it was safe. She tried not to become overwhelmed by how distraught and panicked she felt, and tried to reflect on her pregnancy with composure. She did some research on childbirth and she felt fairly confident about enduring it alone. She had done it before, after all, and in that case she hadn’t even known what was happening.

Tris stood in the locker room one afternoon, breathing through her uneasiness. Her right hand was planted firmly on her lower belly. She was already showing a good deal, not quite hiding her mound in her jersey. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the gentle kicks and nudges under her skin, that she had blithely dismissed as extraordinary gas during her first go-around. She wondered if she had been in denial during the whole month she had been carrying Eric.

Tris sighed as the movements winded down. If she was lucky, coach wouldn’t bother to call her into play. Coach hadn’t questioned Tris about her weight gain this time around, she just seemed to stare and accept it. It was the last game that Tris would allow herself to participate in before she feared her balance issues, and the prominence of her belly, would make it too dangerous to continue with sports.

She still hadn’t called her mother. She had been putting it off, but she was just getting larger. She didn’t know what to say to her, what would mitigate the shame and horror in her voice at her confession. So she procrastinated, despite that she was getting closer. She focused on ensuring that she had a healthy baby. She could worry about the rest later.

Tris noted that she wasn’t nearly as fat as she had gotten during her last pregnancy, though there was time yet, she supposed. She wasn’t sure. She was still rather uncertain about the day she had conceived this one.

She turned to her side, examining her swollen breasts, looking at how much they protruded out in her jersey. Her eyes drifted over her fuller hips and bloated ass, before finally settling on her bulging navel, which was already rather obvious. She slid her fingers down, absently tugging at her shirt, but there was no more leverage. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath, continuing to adjust the unyielding material. She cringed at the way the jersey stretched across her form. It had fit her fine just the other day.

But she could handle this. Tris forced herself to turn away from the mirror. She fixed her face with a smile, even though she was miserable. And then she walked out onto the field, crossing her fingers, and hoping to be sitting on the bench for the game.

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