Zoe the Maid, Part 3

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Summary: Zoe accepts a job as a maid. Contains: Female: udder, multi-breast, cow-girl, pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, multiples, weight gain, stuffing, and more.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Previous Chapter

-

Zoe was freaking out. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She impulsively went online in search of insight. Why on earth was she lactating?

There were a few explanations, a number of them pointing towards hormonal imbalances. The general recommendation was to avoid stimulation, and to consult with a physician. Zoe knew that she really did need to make a doctors appointment…

She studied her reflection in her full-length mirror.

Her breasts were clearly larger and fuller than they had been only days earlier. Engorged? Zoe wondered with a grimace. They were round and plump, and must have shot up to D-cups in only the past few days.

As she examined her body, she noted other subtle changes. Zoe turned to her side. Had her butt gotten bigger? Her hips, for sure, seemed wider and softer. Her body as a whole felt strangely warm, her face even flushed a little.

Her groin was tingling, her body tender and hormonal. Sometimes the arousal got overwhelming when she didn’t think to distract herself. Zoe took a shuddering breath, her hands trailing down her hips and thighs, then up along the odd swell on her pubic region. Her legs quivered, sweat dampening her forehead. She seriously just needed some sort of relief.

With shaky hands, she grabbed her cell phone. Wanna come over? she texted Ethan, and waited, but there was no response. She supposed he might have been angry at her for ditching him last week, on top of ignoring his calls over the past few days. It was worth a shot, she thought as she tossed her phone onto her bed.

Zoe attempted to distract herself. She tried watching some TV, then going on social media on her phone. But in every position she took, she found herself fidgeting, breathing heavily while absently rocking her hips, her body just thrumming with need. Eventually she found there was no point in lingering in her bedroom, where her hands constantly twitched either to cup the pinkish swell on her pubic region or to play with her tender breasts.

Avoid stimulation.

It had been the most consistent instruction Zoe had found in her online research. If her nipples experienced more stimulation, her mammary glands would produce more milk in consequence, thus growing. If she wanted to avoid additional engorgement and lactation, she had to avoid contact with her breasts altogether.

Might as well get a head start on ‘work,’ she thought, her eyes finding the maid uniform she had recently acquired.

It was the middle of the night, but Zoe knew she had no hopes of getting sleep when her body was this restive. She needed a distraction.

She tried the uniform on, finding that it was not as offensive as she had initially thought. While still entirely awful, it was fairly modest. The outfit was comprised of a fitted black dress that buttoned down the front and went to her knees, accompanied by a white waist apron. It felt a little demeaning and seemed impractical for the purpose of cleaning, but she would just have to make do.

Zoe put on some shoes and slipped quietly out of her room, going downstairs. She started with the kitchen, meticulously wiping down cupboards, then counters, before getting started on the stove. She soon found herself bent over with her head in the oven, enjoying the peaceful cycle of repetitive motions as her mind wandered. Cleaning was damn near therapeutic.

“Zoe?”

She jumped, bumping her head on the edge of the oven. She clambered out, looking up to see Garrett standing over her. “Mr. Miller,” she gasped, brushing some charred crumbs off her clothes. “What are you doing up?” A glance at the clock told Zoe that it was already three in the morning.

“Chronic insomnia,” Garrett responded dryly as his cold eyes appraised her. He reached down with his hand, and Zoe belatedly thought to take it.

As she was pulled to her feet, she found herself face-to-face with Garrett, or rather face to throat—he was a tall man, and they were very close, indeed. Her body chose that moment to recall how needy it was, a sudden onslaught of heat and desire leaving her a tad dizzy.

“The real question is what you’re doing up?” questioned Garrett.

Zoe opened her mouth but struggled to form words. “I also c-couldn’t sleep,” she stammered eventually. She hadn’t released his hand. “I, um…tried on the uniform.”

Garrett was still studying her, like she was one of his experiments. Maybe she was.

Her hand moved, inching up his wrist a little. She could hardly control herself. She stepped a little closer, her eyes locked on his.

It was nearly imperceptible, but she saw Garrett’s gaze flit down, then up along her body. “I’m not sure this is a good idea…”

“Garrett,” she entreated. She was so hungry, so helplessly in need.

Another step. Garrett released a sharp breath when their bodies were flush, not quite embracing. But touching.

Then finally, his free hand reached out to make contact, gliding over her waist as she shivered. His fingers slowly trailed around one of her round breasts, and then cupped it. Squeezed. Zoe whimpered.

Any remaining distance between them was eradicated with a fervid kiss, their bodies becoming entangled. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he fucked her against the kitchen wall.

-

It never happened.

Or so they both pretended.

Of course, there was evidence. And there were things of more significance, certain other changes on her form.

The next day, Zoe stood on her bedroom mirror, again examining her reflection.

She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, or if her breasts had gotten even bigger. Noticeably bigger. They were looking quite plump, round, and perky. Only weeks earlier, they had been small and insignificant, sometimes completely undetectable beneath her shirts.

But now they were bluntly protruding. She objectively had big breasts now. DDs? she wondered, sort of fascinated with herself. Perhaps on a larger woman they would not have been noteworthy, but on her slim build, they were disproportionately large. Some might even suspect them of being fake.

There had been a startling jump in cup size that had happened overnight, and the cause seemed evident. Not supposed to stimulate, Zoe reminded herself for the umpteenth time.

But that was just what Garrett had done. Her eyes fluttered at the memory of him touching and kissing the sensitive mounds. Nipping and sucking. She tried to push the thoughts out of her head, because it was making her hot all over again.

She didn’t know if it had been deliberate, but it had been oh so good. The pleasure was beyond comprehension, her breasts warm, tingly, and full of sensation.

But stimulation was bad. Simulation led to engorgement. That’s what was happening. Her body was producing more milk, and so her breasts were getting larger.

As if on cue, a droplet of milk suddenly sprung free from her right nipple. The left nipple started prickling, then joined in, before both breasts were releasing consistent droplets of milk.

Disturbed by the sight of it, Zoe quickly grabbed up some tissues, pressing them to her chest. It was certainly sobering. Women who had not given birth were not supposed to be lactating. Clearly there was something wrong with her hormones.

She would have to take care not to stimulate her breasts any further. She would not touch them, nor would she allow anyone else to, regardless of how amazing it felt.

-

“I can’t believe he’s making you wear a uniform.”

It was a rare sighting of Josephine. Their companionability felt awkward now. Or Zoe was making it awkward. She tried her best to act normal.

“Yeah, it’s kind of dumb,” Zoe said with an eye-roll. “At least I got both a pants and a skirt option.”

Josephine threw a disturbed look. She was pouring herself a glass of water while simultaneously looking at something on her phone browser. Probably some big scientific publication.

Zoe was leaning against the kitchen island, her arms awkwardly folded over her waist. She had chosen her outfit carefully after learning that Josephine would be home that day. Zoe was wearing an oversized T-shirt that fell past her hips and some leggings. She thought the shirt suitably covered the rounded growth on her pubic region, the mound feeling warm and tender, as it always seemed to these days.

In hindsight, Zoe had found it intriguing that Garrett had not taken notice of the bizarre state of her pubic region on the night of their coupling, but it had been dark, and she supposed he had been absorbed in other things.

“And it’s only when I’m working,” Zoe added, trying to clear her mind. “I guess it’ll help me keep my regular clothes clean. It’s kind of funny. Makes the job feel really official,” she said with air-quotes. “I suppose it gives me something to throw on my résumé.”

Josephine sent her a pitying look. Nevertheless, she said, “yeah, I guess I can see my dad’s perspective. It looks better than having some random college girl hanging out at his house.”

Josephine didn’t see Zoe’s blush since she was looking in the fridge. “Is there anything to eat around here?”

Zoe’s blush deepened. Garrett gave her a generous grocery allowance every week, and part of Zoe’s job was to ensure that the kitchen was well-stocked with food. She always used up all the money so that Garrett didn’t think she was pocketing any of it. But the amount of funds that he gave her was certainly excessive. Every week she could afford enough food to feed three people, probably more. But with Josephine rarely home these days, and Garrett consuming little more than coffee, as far as Zoe could tell, there was always a surplus of food in the house. Zoe had told Garrett as much, but he had been dismissive, all but interested in a problem of abundance. It wasn’t worth his time to sort out, and he had declined to decrease the allowance.

In the past, this excess food had just led to wastefulness, with Zoe throwing out a good deal of it as it expired. Occasionally, when she had the time, she would bring food to local food banks.

But in recent weeks, things had changed.

Zoe’s appetite was increasing for some reason, and she found herself eating far more than she usually did. Lately, she would consume dinner at six, then go back for seconds at seven, and a snack at eight. She would keep treats in the night table at her bedside, and munch away as she did readings for her college courses. She was eating all the time now, sometimes not even noticing. It had become habitual, this constant, absent munching. She was barely cognizant of her hand navigating the next delicious morsel into her mouth.

On top of that, Zoe’s surging appetite had led to a decline in the quality of the groceries she bought. She was no longer prioritizing fresh meat and vegetables, instead buying fattening and processed foods. And her sweet tooth was out of control.

“I forgot to go shopping,” Zoe lied, too embarrassed to admit that she had eaten most of the food in the house. She actually wasn’t due to go grocery shopping again for another three days.

Josephine sighed, closing the fridge. “I guess we can order in. Pizza?”

Zoe’s stomach grumbled just at the thought. “Sounds good to me,” she managed.

Josephine gave her a peculiar look as the two women walked towards the living room.

“You look really good, Zoe.” Josephine plopped down on the couch, drawing her legs up and folding them. “What have you been doing?”

Zoe gave her a questioning look. She eased herself down on the sectional then adjusted her shirt a little.

“I mean, you’re looking all curvy-like.”

Zoe reddened. Josephine had never been one for subtlety. “I may have gained a little weight,” she admitted, wincing.

“Well it looks great.”

“Thanks,” said Zoe, meekly taking the complement.

“Pepperoni?” Josephine was now looking down, presumably at the food delivery app on her phone.

Zoe hummed in response, her mind wandering. Maybe the changes weren’t all bad. More guys on campus were certainly taking notice of her these days. Zoe’s hand almost slid down to cup her pubic region, but she caught herself at the last moment, instead planting her hand firmly against the couch cushion beside her. She tried her best not to fidget even though her body felt uncomfortably warm while her breasts and her pubic region were somehow just itching to be touched.

Their extra-large, pepperoni pie arrived within the hour, the girls digging in as they chattered about coursework, classmates, and the local gossip.

Midway through her third slice, Zoe felt an odd sensation on her shirt. She looked down, blanching at the sight of damp spots against each breast.

Josephine was still talking. She appeared to not have noticed.

“Bathroom,” Zoe squeaked out as she hurried out of the room.

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