Medication, Part 2 - 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.

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Day 29

Her hips were getting wider, and her ass, bigger.

She began to notice the increasing effort it took to jerk her sweatpants up in the back.

Now they could hardly triumph her ass, instead inches of crack bulging out over the waistband.

This was getting ridiculous. Her belly looked ready to pop.

She could hardly walk anymore. Instead she sort of just waddled about, uncoordinated and ungainly, and she felt like an elephant.

She was becoming a shut-in. She left her bedroom only at night when her dorm mates were asleep. She would visit the campus market, ignoring the staring shop clerk as she hastily stuffed her basket with as much junk food as she could fit into it.

Much as Tris tried to will her problems away, they only seemed to be exacerbating, and her body continued to balloon out of control. She was sore, uncomfortable, exhausted, heavy, and could hardly find a position in which she could sleep anymore. The strange tapping on her insides was getting frighteningly stronger. At times, she could swear she was pregnant. But it made no sense. She had never slept with anyone!

Clutching her bags that night, Tris made her way back into her bedroom, and eased herself down onto her bed, breathing heavily. She shrugged out of the jacket that was draped about her shoulders and had no hope of zipping closed over her mass. Her T-shirt was moist with sweat, the entire lower half of her belly bulging out of the tautly stretched material. Her protruding nipples were evidently pushing against the cotton, breasts full and swollen. She was becoming such a slob.

Holding her abdomen with one hand, Tris caught her breath for several moments, while with her free hand, she reached for her purchases.

She ate her way through packaged cookies, various bags of chips, granola bars, dry cereal, a few chocolate bars, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of marshmallows, and several stale breakfast burritos the cashier had chucked into a paper bag for her.

“No wonder I’m becoming a whale,” Tris wheezed out self-depreciatingly, once she was finished. Her hand slid to her back and rubbed at a pain arbitrarily spiking there. Through her window, she could see the sun beginning to rise on the horizon.

Tris eased herself back against her pillows, grimacing at a sudden tension in her belly. Her body was under a lot of stress lately. Hopefully it would subside after a well-deserved nap.

It took Tris a while until her anxiety allowed for her to succumb to exhaustion. When she awoke, there was dim light outside her bedroom windows. For a few bleary moments, she blinked around, confused as to what had awoken her.

And then it hit her. Pain gripped her body, rolling through her stomach, which tightened, automatically, whether she clenched her muscles or not. As the pain held her frozen and trembling, she was hardly able to breathe. And then it rolled away as fluidly as it had arrived, and Tris was left gasping and starting to sweat.

What was that? she wondered, rubbing her swollen abdomen. It had been intense. Frightening. She noticed her belly felt odd and tense. And had it been that low before?

Tris shifted to get up. Maybe she was having some muscle spasms from all the new weight. She awkwardly heaved up her torso, her low belly shifting into her lap, when the pain suddenly seized her up again.

“Ohhhhh…” Tris groaned out, trying desperately to stay quiet so not to wake her dorm mates. Though maybe that would be for the best. Should she have been calling for help?

Tris didn’t think she could stand the humiliation of several college freshmen bursting through her door. She trembled until the pain tapered off, when she noticed that her face was wet with tears. With some difficulty, she climbed to her feet, but everything was off. She could hardly move save for an awkward wobble. She gasped and clutched at her awkwardly low belly. She felt an uncomfortable pressure in her groin.

Tris wobbled around a bit, oblivious and panicked. Should she have called an ambulance? “Mmmggh…” She rubbed at her tense, and throbbing stomach. But moving about felt right for some reason. Like something was loosening up, or dislodging within her. As she passed her dresser, she noticed her cellphone, the face of it indicting a missed call from her mother. Reluctantly freeing up one of her hands, Tris reached out for it.

“Nrrggghhh…” She gripped hard onto the dresser, just to keep herself from toppling over. Her belly tightened immensely, her insides burning, and thighs quavering.

Tris breathed in gasps as the waves of pain began to overlap each other. Her clothes were stuck to her with sweat, her whole body flushed, her cheeks red.

“Ohh…ohhhhh!” She sunk to her knees, still clutching at the underside of her belly. “No…stop…!” She dropped to her side, oblivious as to what she was protesting, or to whom. Somehow she managed to wiggle out of her sweat-drenched clothes.

Tris weakly rolled to her back, watching her swollen midriff heave up and down like a mountain against her. She rubbed it desperately, and wondered if she was going to die.

Now the pain was shooting from her stomach to her groin, her plump hips shuddering. By some instinct, Tris opened her thighs.

The pressure was getting worse than ever. Something was shifting—something large—was approaching her opening. Tris struggled to muffle her whimpers by clutching her fist to her mouth.

She could something pushing against her opening. She tried to hold it in, but it was just too painful. She felt as though something was tearing her apart! She sat up partially, for leverage, her belly heaving. Something was exiting—pushing out of her. “Nrrggghhhhh…” Her face reddened more as Tris grunted, struggled, and bore down.

Finally, something pushed out. There was a hoarse, shrill—crying. Stunned and exhausted, Tris leaned down between her legs. “Oh god,” she croaked out. It was…it was a baby!

Tris held the tiny human against her, lost as to what else to do.

There was a knock on her door, and someone called, “Tris, are you alright in there?”

But Tris was speechless. She clutched the flushed infant closer, until the crying was slightly muffled against her chest. Soon the knocking stopped.

Tris was certain this was some foul delusion. She struggled to catch her breath. Her muscles trembling, she somehow got to her feet, and dragged her sore, exhausted body to the bed.

She collapsed on her back, the baby still clutched against her, and whimpering. Tris cradled it wearily, and soon things quieted down. Or so she imagined.

She passed out.

-

When Tris awoke again, the room was bright and warm. She shifted, grimacing when she realized how sore and weak her body felt. Only when Tris heard a sucking noise, and felt a stinging in her chest, did she recall the events of the previous night.

Tris’s eyes snapped open, and she abruptly found herself staring at the newborn infant laid on her chest as it instinctively sucked on her nipple.

“Oh god,” Tris breathed out, detaching the baby. She winced as she sat up. A glance at her chest told her that her nipples were darker than ever, breasts even softer and fuller than they had been the prior day, and only when a white droplet of liquid fell from her nipple, did Tris realize that she was—lactating.

The infant began to wail.

“Oh,” said Tris stupidly. She returned the baby to her chest, and it promptly began to—suckle—again. She winced, and blinked, and stared off, feeling helpless.

She had given birth.

Tris bit her lip, wanting to scream, but minding the baby.

She—a college student—a virgin—had endured a rapid pregnancy and then given birth.

Tris felt her heart race and breathing thin. She absently rubbed the baby's back as it continued to feed.

“…the hell,” she whispered, feeling her eyes burn, to her further frustration. None of this made sense. And her body, it was—christ. What was she going to do with a baby? As her shoulders trembled, the baby detached again. It—he—he was a boy—and he started to whimper, as Tris did her best to pacify him, cooing, rocking, as she also tried to calm herself.

She appraised the healthy-sized baby. Despite that she wanted to go back to sleep, and despite the fact that she was fatigued and sore, and her body no longer felt familiar to her—in fact, had practically betrayed her—Tris got up from her bed and carried the infant to her private bathroom, where she cleaned him up the best she could as he dozed, gurgled, and grasped feebly at Tris’s fingers.

Tris bundled the infant up in one of her sweaters, feeling relieved that the newborn had fallen asleep by then.

The child had jet black hair, very unlike Tris’s own dirty blonde. The baby had her round face, but the lips and brows were unfamiliar. Still, it didn’t make sense. How could the baby have been born from just one person’s genetic material, and so distinct, at that?

Slowly, Tris’s mind shifted to her one medical anomaly that had never added up. The necessity of the daily pills her mother had never identified for her.

Tris deeply inhaled.

It was time to pay her mother a visit.

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