Neighbors, Part 5

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Summary: Two neighbors are cursed. Whenever Zoe has unprotected sex, Emily becomes pregnant with the resultant offspring, and goes through a 1-month pregnancy, after which she gives birth. Both women are also now immune to sexually transmitted disease. Zoe finds it liberating that she can have sex without personal consequence, and cares little about the effects it has on her neighbor. Emily, meanwhile, is overwhelmed by the continuous pregnancies, and the increasing number of babies she is now apparently responsible for. However Emily has yet to explore the impact the curse has on Zoe. Contains: Female: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, weight gain, stuffing, and possibly more.

Previous Chapter

-

Zoe continually felt bloated and lethargic. She was fatigued and felt the sensation of being stuffed even when she had not eaten. Because she felt depleted, she had to take several naps throughout the day. Her belly ached at times. The lactation was weird as shit, and only seemed to be getting worse. Any time she tried to find information and remedies via a web search, she always got back articles related to women postpartum.

“Well, all your bloodwork looks fine,” her doctor mentioned after she caved and went on an appointment because she could hardly stand the changes any longer. “Though there is an unusual elevation in certain hormones. Based on these results, I could swear you’d given birth recently.”

Zoe’s stomach dropped. “But I haven’t,” she said, as the doctor looked her over sort of doubtfully. “What else could cause these results?”

The physician looked momentarily uncertain and confused—the two expressions Zoe typically didn’t want to see on the faces of her healthcare providers. “I—well—I would like to refer you to a specialist,” he said, causing Zoe’s face to fall. The medical appointments were expensive as they were, she couldn’t afford to be shuttled around from doctor to doctor with no end in sight.

She tuned out the rest of his words as he began to discuss the Endocrinologists in the area. She didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with these visits. Zoe drew a long breath before getting up and walking off, cutting the physician off mid-sentence as she slammed the door shut behind her.

-

“I’m WHAT!?”

Emily had gone to her second post-natal exam only to receive another unexpected diagnosis.

“It is certainly unexpected. But I checked three times. You appear to be pregnant again, Ms. Pearson,” said Dr. Rivers, blushing and looking entirely perplexed. “This situation is rather…unprecedented. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a case like yours.”

It had been two weeks since Emily had given birth. A mere TWO weeks. “This is insane,” said Emily, completely disconcerted and overwhelmed. This couldn’t be happening. “What the actual fuck?” She rubbed her forehead, and through the fluster all she could think was, this is ZOE’S fault. And this couldn’t go on. She had to bring it to an end.

-

Emily was exhausted. Between the soreness and fatigue from recently giving birth, the effects of the new pregnancy, and suddenly having to take care of a fussy baby, she felt completely drained.

She wished Zoe had just listened to her. They could have resolved things in a civil manner. But now it was too late. They were far beyond peaceful resolution.

Zoe got the fertility drugs from the same dealer who usually sold Adderall to her. He looked oddly at her thin, weary form, then the large newborn baby cradled in her arms, before shrugging and taking the cash she was offering over.

Emily didn’t think about the consequences of her subsequent actions. She didn’t consider the fact that if this worked she would be putting her own child in Zoe’s arms. She didn’t think about how poorly it would impact her already fractured relationship with her ex.

“Can you come over?” Emily said weakly into the phone. She was flushed and squirmy, she suspected, from repetitively overdosing on fertility drugs the week. “I just—I really need to see you right now.”

Edward sounded understandably reluctant. “Emily, it’s over between us. It’s been over for weeks.”

“I know!” Emily insisted, even as her throat tightened at his words. “God, I know. And this doesn’t have to change anything. But I have a lot of regrets, Edward. We were together for two years, celibate, and I can’t help feeling cheated. Get over here and give me a proper send-off.”

There was silence on the other line. Emily knew that it hadn’t been her smoothest advance, but she just felt so hot and out of it, loins practically throbbing with need.

Edward gave a weak cough. She could hear him swallow. Finally, he said, “Give me ten minutes.” With that, he hung up on her.

-

Edward did not disappoint. Things proceeded rapidly from there.

Emily found herself eating constantly. When she wasn’t taking care of the baby, or trying to regain some semblance of control over her life, she found herself pigging out: stuffing her face with the most unhealthy of foods; gobbling it down with no consideration of the fat or sugar content. Conveniently, Emily was not putting on much weight at all.

Just for kicks, Emily also began to rub into her small chest, imagining she was stimulating it, pretend she had huge breasts there that needed to be massaged into fullness, and plump with milk. She even began to consume lactation teas developed for women who weren’t producing enough breast milk. The beverage did nothing for Emily, but it was interesting to see her neighbor’s continued transformation as days turned to weeks and Emily maintained a rigorous schedule of gluttonous behavior.

-

Zoe’s weight was getting out of control.

It had started with her breasts, hips, and ass—things that made her more voluptuous. Then the unexplained lactation had started up, and she was learning to deal with that as well, or try to, at the very least.

Now her weight was surging up and out of control, and for no evident reason. In only days, her softening belly had rapidly blown up into a rounded curve. Her tits were swelling even more, leaking constantly, and the rest of her body was taking on a new layer of softness.

Her belly continued to be the worst of her problems. It was growing rapidly, pushing out, stretching. Soft skin grew progressively more firm, and queasily enough, she was starting to look undeniably pregnant. In the span of a few weeks.

It didn’t make sense. She had tested negative for pregnancy at her last doctor’s appointment, not a month ago. But now she abruptly looked as though she was hiding a basketball under her hoodie. If Ted hadn’t been baffled enough by the lactation, he seemed terrified now.

“I…um…I just realized that I had some work to do tonight,” he said, his eyes pinned to her gut the moment he entered her house that evening.

“Really, Ted? Really?” said Zoe sarcastically.

His mouth quivered into a tremulous smile. “Sorry, Zo. Rain check?” With that he hurried off faster than she’d ever seen him move, flinging himself into his Mercedes and speeding off into the night.

Zoe sneered after him. For all his talk of exclusivity, he sure was a flighty thing.

Zoe turned around and waddled her way back to her office. She was wearing panties that strained to contain her softened hips and the bubble of her ass, and a T-shirt that was equally strained, and only pulled down as far as her navel.

She was getting huge. Her breasts were easily FF-cups by then, and they never stopped leaking. Even at present, they were dripping into her shirt, making the damp spots broaden. Her nipples were hard, swollen, sore, and erect, bulging out visibly against the wet, semi-transparent material.

Zoe found herself fidgeting continuously. Her breasts were always just so full, hot, and pressurized, nipples aching. They were round and full, not sagging in the least. Her doctor had warned her not to stimulate them more with unnecessary contact, but it was fucking awkward and uncomfortable to walk around all day with tits heavily bobbing with large amounts of hot milk.

Bulging out beneath her breasts was the bizarre distortion of her belly. She still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it, but it was full, round, and heavy on her hips. She still couldn’t believe how rapidly it had developed. Sometimes it shuddered and she could swear it was pushing forward with more growth. She groaned in frustration. Every time she went to see the doctor, she seemed to develop some weird new medical issue immediately after.

She cupped it absently, her hand low on the underside—god, her belly had an underside. Her hand futility endeavored to support the heaviness of it. She swore, she looked as though she was due with child, if not larger. She felt like a mess and industriously avoided mirrors, not wanting to look at her fuller face, or softened shoulders. Her hands constantly roamed, exploring the way the mound jutted sharply away from her pelvis. She was trying not to freak out, as someone like Emily might in this situation, but Ted’s terrified expression and hasty escape was rapidly pushing her over the edge. Something was seriously wrong with her. She eased herself down in her desk chair, staring off. She absently spread her thighs to make way for the largeness of her belly.

The dinging of the doorbell snapped Zoe out of her reverie. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, but as she looked down at her desk top, she realized that she had not managed to get any work done. Her hand was gripping a fork, with which it had idly shuffled the contents of her dinner—a caesar salad—around and around in her plate. Her stomach ached and grumbled, and shuddered a little, causing her to clutch it and grimace.

Ding.

Zoe heaved herself up with a great deal of effort, grunting in frustration as she arched and held her twinging back. She lumbered her way over to her front door, throwing it open before really thinking about the consequences. To her displeasure, her greatest fear had come to fruition. Emily Pearson had again come by to visit (harass?) her.

Emily was standing on the porch, clutching her newborn, and looking uncharacteristically serene for once.

“Hiya Zo, how are you feeling?” she said, her eyes roving over Zoe’s form. “Oh. What happened to you? Are you pregnant or something?” Emily’s smiled.

Zoe winced. “Of course not, I’m just—I have a medical issue. Not that it’s any of your business,” she grumbled wearily. “I’m glad I caught you, Em. I’d like to extend an open invitation for you to never visit me again. In fact, how do I get you to take it?” She made to close the door, but as usual, Emily was impertinent. She held it open, even as she clutched her infant with her free arm.

“We need to talk,” said Emily. “I am not leaving until you sit down and have a conversation with me. And by the looks of it, you probably want to get off your feet anyway.”

Zoe sneered. “You are like a gnat,” she said, even as her ankles ached and feet throbbed beneath her. “Annoying, resilient, opportunistic. God, how can you stand being you?”

Offering a sarcastic smile, Emily pushed the door farther and let herself in.

Zoe noticed that Emily had a bit of a belly. Undoubtedly, it was left over baby weight. Still, Zoe couldn’t figure out why her eyes were drawn to the bump.

Emily made herself at home, sitting right down at the small circular table between the kitchen and the living room. “Have a seat,” Emily invited, the audacity. She awkwardly rocked her baby, the poor thing already sentenced to a lifetime of suffering.

Zoe glared heatedly at the other woman. Much as she wanted to sit down, she didn’t want to be complicit to Emily’s commands, or whatever the woman thought she was doing here. In addition, Zoe had embarrassingly legitimate doubts as to whether the cheap wooden chair could support her increased weight.

She feared it was a risk she would have to take. Zoe was beginning to feel dizzy from weariness. Finally, she waddled her way over to the table, and eased herself slowly down in a chair, the wood creaking precariously beneath her.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out you’re pregnant by now,” said Emily quietly, holding Zoe’s gaze. “I’m sorry, I just—I had a point to prove. You got me pregnant again, by the way.”

“Still off your meds, I see,” said Zoe.

“Zoe, I’m serious,” said Emily. “I’ve been celibate for the past two years, yet I’m pregnant for the second time in as many months. As in, one-month pregnancies. Sort of kind of what you’re going through right now. What happens to your body effects me, and what I do impacts you. When I pig out, you gain the weight. When you have unprotected sex with your random hook-ups, I’m the one who gets pregnant. This whole thing is supernatural. I—I think we need to reconnect the statues.” Emily dug into her purse with her free arm and pulled out her broken half of the statue.

“No,” Zoe blurted. She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt fearful for some reason. “You in fact do not make sense. I’m not pregnant, I just—I just have something else wrong with me. One cannot grow a fetus in one month, Pearson. What’s with this obsession with me?”

Emily huffed irritably. “Where is your statue?” she repeated, gazing around. Her eyes landed on the coffee table, then her face fell at seeing that Zoe’s statue piece wasn’t there anymore. Emily heaved herself up, and as she stood, her belly did seem a lot firmer than it should have been post-pregnancy. And it was quite large, though nowhere near the size of Zoe’s massive bump.

Again, Zoe tore her eyes away. “It’s gone,” she said vaguely as she rolled her eyes.

Emily reddened. “You’ll come around,” she said ominously and headed for the door. “Next time, you’ll come to me. And I’ll be waiting.” Throwing a nasty smile, Emily made her exit.

“Now I won’t,” Zoe sang back. The chair again creaked, causing her to pale as she resisted the urge to demand that Emily come back and help her get up.