Zoe the Maid, Part 5

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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

-

There was a sharp tapping noise.

Zoe’s eyes snapped open. She found herself slumped in the driver’s seat of her car, which was still parked in the lot of the Mexican restaurant. She blinked around as the tapping noise resumed. She looked through her window to see…Ethan? He was standing there, motioning for her to roll the window down.

Her keys were still in the ignition. Zoe turned on the car and lowered the window. “Hey…” she said awkwardly, straightening up somewhat. She wiped away whatever grease and sauce remained on her lips, then her arms impulsively folded over the heap on her lap.

“What’s going on?” Ethan said with a frown. “I was on my way to the gym, and I saw your car pulled up here by itself.”

Zoe glanced at the dashboard. It was 5:30 AM, which explained why it was still dark out. The lot was empty except for her car. “I guess I just got…tired,” she mumbled, her mind too foggy for her to produce a better explanation for why she wasn’t asleep in her bed.

Ethan’s gaze drifted, finally taking in the empty paper bags and food containers littering her passenger seat. His nose wrinkled as he returned his attention to her. “Get up. I’m taking you out for coffee. We need to talk.”

He opened her car door. Zoe tensed slightly at the feel of the cool air. “Right,” she managed, grabbing her purse, which she held against her lower abdomen. As she stood, she could see him appraising her maid uniform, an odd look on his face.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

“I really don’t know anymore,” Zoe mumbled as she followed him to his car and eased herself down in the passenger seat with a grimace.

A few minutes later, they were at a nearby diner. Ethan ordered a coffee, and Zoe ordered an extra-large milkshake. Three of them, actually. In addition to that, she ordered a breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, and a stack of fluffy pancakes drenched in syrup.

Sitting across the table, Ethan stared at her. Zoe used his silence as an opportunity to start sucking down one of her milkshakes. Her eyes fluttered in pleasure. It was dense, and it tasted heavenly.

“Zoe? Talk.”

She shrugged as she sucked down a few more gulps. Finally, she pulled off of the straw, inhaling deeply. “What do you mean?” she said, a bit breathlessly. Zoe felt her cheeks heat up. Maybe playing dumb wasn’t the best way to go about this conversation. She felt like it opened herself up for more scrutiny.

And scrutinize Ethan did. His eyes trailed from her face, along her plump breasts, then to where her waist disappeared beneath the table. “You’ve put on weight,” he said, his tongue trailing along his bottom lip. He blinked and averted his gaze, gathering himself a little. “And you’ve clearly been eating—a lot. Like, binging. When did this all start? I just saw you two weeks ago, what the hell’s going on? At this rate—” he cut himself off. He wasn’t the most tactful, but at least he knew when to shut up.

“Yeah…” she said awkwardly. With a slurp, she finished off the first milkshake, then absently grabbed her fork, playing around with her eggs. “I guess I’ve just been going through a lot.” Her blushing got worse. She didn’t feel like she could disclose her bizarre ailment to Ethan, or anyone, not even family. She was honestly irritated that he was even demanding an explanation. They had only been dating a few weeks. She couldn’t deal with this.

Then suddenly, Ethan got up from where he was seated opposite her, instead sliding onto the bench beside her, so they were hip to hip.

“And what’s with the maid outfit?” he said as he studied her, no longer hindered by the table concealing her lower half. “And what’s with…” His hand reached out to rest directly on the bulge tenting out the skirt of her uniform.

Zoe inhaled sharply, her body warming. The udder was so sensitive, she could barely contain her groan as it tingled and tensed, overwhelmed with sensation.

“What the hell is that?” Ethan said in surprise, perhaps feeling the heat the udder was generating. He pressed more firmly, and Zoe gave an odd squeaking noise.

She pushed him so forcefully, he nearly fell out of the booth.

“I’ve got to go,” she choked.

Ethan just looked baffled. “Zoe…” But he obediently stumbled out of her way.

As hard as it was for Zoe to separate herself from her uneaten plate of pancakes, she got to her feet and shuffled off, the udder rocking uncomfortably.

-

Zoe was on her bedroom floor, her legs akimbo, her plump breasts heaving with her heavy panting.

She regarded the rumpled grocery bags sitting on the carpet beside her. She had just gobbled down two bags full of candy bars, chips, and packaged snack cakes. There had also been a custard pie she had stuffed down with her bare hands. As she finished the last candy bar, she moaned and panted, one hand clutching her belly, the other cupping her udder.

Yes, she had a goddamn udder. It was real, and she was acclimating ­– even accepting – the oddity of the mass.

Zoe released a belch then moaned again, her body hot and throbbing. She glanced at the clock and couldn’t believe that it was already 6 PM. She had a midterm early the next morning. And so, with effort, she got her feet beneath her and took hold of the side of her dresser. She grunted as she heaved herself to her feet, her cheeks hot and her body stinging. Her stomach was bloated and felt ready to split. She had stuffed down more food than it could tolerate. She couldn’t understand her compulsion to binge-eat. This wasn’t normal for her. She could only guess that the recent surge of her appetite was related to whatever was happening to her: her expanding breasts, the development of the udder, and whatever other changes were going on internally.

Zoe shook herself out of her reverie and took a deep breath. She needed to study.

As she was only wearing a pair of panties and a tank top that was strained at her chest and could no longer pull down all the way, she went about putting some clothes on.

She donned a t-shirt, but that had the same coverage issues as her tank top, leaving a few inches of her abdomen exposed, but it would have to suffice. Zoe frowned down at the swollen E-cups heaving on her chest, supposing that she should have just been grateful that they weren’t leaking at that moment. Her nipples bulged prominently and blatantly, perpetually erect, and looking as though they had doubled in size since this whole thing had started.

Unfortunately, most of Zoe’s clothing was in the laundry, so she didn’t have a lot of pants options. She found a pair of jeans in her closet and frowned at them doubtfully. Nevertheless, she pulled them on, grimacing as she tugged at the waistband. She was not surprised the fly was strained wide open, with no hopes of zipping or buttoning up, her rubbery pink heap of flesh pushing against it.

She grimaced, hunching slightly at the sensitivity of the mound being compressed there. By then, the four symmetrical nubs had fully descended to look like chubby little fingers. She had a real cow udder, fully formed, and growing out of her pubic region.

Every time she looked upon it, she felt as though she was going mad. Stubbornly, she tugged at her jeans, trying to compress the thing as she pulled the zipper. At a sharp stinging sensation, she yelped, the zipper shooting down as she staggered. Her shoulder hit the wall, and she leaned there, whimpering.

Why this. Why her. “What the fuck,” she whispered.

She could no longer ignore this. It was insanity. And so, feeling some mix of hysteria and defeat, she straightened up and walked to the bedroom door. Carefully cupping the udder with one hand to keep it from wobbling too excessively, she marched her way toward Garrett’s office.

Zoe balled her right hand into a fist and knocked forcefully on the door before she even thought about what she was doing.

“Come in,” called Garrett’s calm voice, which snapped Zoe out of her haze with little effort.

Zoe drew a deep breath, looking down at herself. At the exposure of her anomaly. She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

Garrett was seated behind his desk. He raised his head from his work as she entered. And rather than looking astonished, he simply raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked on the udder.

It was insane how fast it had grown. The udder was broader than the hand cupping it even with her fingers spread. It was so rubbery and fleshy, and so brutally sensitive, she could hardly take it. This whole thing was just bizarre.

“You’re turning me into a freak,” Zoe spat, nodding down to the mound bulging out of her pants. Her face was red, her breathing thin. She had never felt so vulnerable as she did at that moment.

Garrett stood. “Not nearly,” he drawled, continuing to scrutinize her like the experiment she had become. “It’s fascinating, really. Your body is highly responsive to the serum. It’s almost fully developed.”

Zoe was furious. “So, you’re finally admitting that you did this?”

“I did nothing. You entered my lab when you were explicitly instructed not to,” Garrett responded.

Zoe grinned angrily, shaking her head. The audacity of the man. She turned to leave but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see that Garrett was suddenly standing right behind her.

She should have wrenched herself away and ordered him not to touch her, but instead she found herself immobile, her lips parted as she forced air in and out of her lungs.

“You should be proud,” Garrett said as he gently turned her around to fully face him again.

Then his hand wandered down from her shoulder, along her waist, to her hips, then finally cupped the udder. Zoe took in a sharp breath.

Garrett wasn’t deterred. His hand continued to wander, gently stroking the hot flesh as Zoe’s face twisted in a grimace.

Yet she couldn’t pull away. It was as uncomfortable as it was arousing.

“Truly impressive,” Garrett muttered. “You’re the first subject that has been responsive it all. You developed a full, functioning cow udder.”

Zoe was just struggling to breathe, her cheeks hot, and her eyes fluttering down. What did he mean by “functioning” anyway?

Now Garrett was paying special attention to the protrusions —the four teats bulging from the bloated pink mound. He stroked them slowly, one by one, Zoe grunting from the evocative, heady sensation.

“God…” she groaned, struggling to breathe, but still unable to push him away. Instead, she moved closer, her head hitting his shoulder as one of her fingers twisted in the material of his shirt. Her legs felt weak beneath her, as Garrett continued to casually massage the plump, rubbery flesh of her udder. Her nipples stung, then there was dampness. Taking a shaky breath, Zoe looked down at herself. There were growing patches of moisture forming on the front of her shirt. Her nipples were leaking again.

Garrett chuckled. “Look at you. Can’t even help yourself,” he taunted.

God, it felt good. It felt so fucking good. She leaned closer, her eyelids fluttering down. She wanted it so bad. It had been a damn while.

“You sure?” he questioned, veritably teasing her.

Zoe grabbed his collar, pulling him down to meet her. His kiss on her lips, her udder flush against his body.

She could feel his hardness. She trembled into the contact.

When he pulled away, she seemed to regain her senses. She attempted to slap him, but he caught her wrist, smirking.

Zoe could hardly breathe. She was hot and trembling, her breasts leaking and her teats burning. She leaned into him. “F-fuck,” she whimpered, helplessly gripping onto his shirt, utterly disoriented. She felt feral. Needy.

Garrett lifted her chin, gazing down in what seemed a quiet sense of victory.

Then he took her wrist, and pulled her, blessedly, out of the office and toward his bedroom.

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