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Zoe the Maid, Part 9
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 22:13:43 +0000 UTC$7/Bronze Directory
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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.
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Zoe was leaning heavily on the wall.
She had lasted through a full twenty minutes of cleaning until she’d had to take a break. She just felt so heavy and weary, while her nipples and udder had gotten increasingly sore.
She took long, even breaths, and could not help gliding her fingers over the large, tight mound quavering at her pubic region. The udder was just so sensitive and tender, and it was getting so swollen. By then, it was nearly the size of a honeydew, and it was only getting more difficult to hide it the larger it grew.
On top of exhausted and uncomfortable, Zoe was feeling hungry. Which was unsurprising, yet inconvenient, because she always seemed to be in the vicinity of the kitchen, and she had practically unlimited access to food.
Pushing herself off the wall, she stumbled slightly on her way to the refrigerator, grimacing at how the awkwardness of her uniform had only increased since she had left her bedroom. She passed by dirty dishes and dust piles, before she opened the fridge, taking in the many prepared foods packed inside. The options had only gotten more decadent in her past few weeks of grocery shopping.
Zoe even whimpered slightly. She felt like an addict, her dopamine already spiking.
She started eating. There was a large cheddar block that she just bit right into, chomping through it, bite after bite. It was so heavy, cheesy and decadent. It should have disgusted her, but it was practically euphoric.
She again noted how she had prioritized easy foods that were efficient for consumption. Hardly anything ever needed preparation. Once she was finished with the cheddar block, Zoe’s hands closed around an extra-large roll of cookie dough. Opening a drawer, she grabbed a knife and cut the end of it open. She then brought it directly to her lips, chewing and sucking, allowing the soft, sweet chocolate chip cookie dough to practically roll down her throat. It was so easy. Her face heated as she sucked. She groaned in pleasure as her stomach filled. It took only minutes before she was done with that as well.
Zoe decided to wash the cheese and cookie dough down with one of those nutritional protein shakes Garrett kept buying. There were about a dozen on the door of the fridge, each bottle a liter in size. She chugged the first one without issue, her body a machine, practically made to consume. It was so heavy, so rich and sweet, almost buttery in its consistency. The beverage seemed to be blatantly designed for weight gain, but Zoe couldn’t care. It was delicious. It was invigorating and sating, and she still couldn’t seem to get enough. She grabbed a second one, unscrewing the cover. Starting to gulp it down, she leaned on the counter, taking a gasp of breath between every few gulps. Once she had finished the second liter of the sweet, sugary drink, she hummed to herself, arching her throat, breathing heavily as she gave her body a moment to adapt to the onslaught of calories.
She felt so hot, so full and supple, her chest heaving as her belly ached. Yet she still had an appetite. Somehow there was more room. Plenty of it.
In the wake of drinking the beverage, her breasts and udder were tingling.
Zoe opened the freezer, glancing around only briefly, before grabbing two large bags of frozen dumplings. The first bag was pork, and the second bag was cheese. The bags were overflowing her arms as she awkwardly put them down on the counter. She didn’t know if either was microwave-safe, but she couldn’t care at that moment. She stuffed the first bag into the microwave and put it on for two minutes. In the meantime, she leaned down with a groan, and pulled a huge mixing bowl out of the cupboard.
Zoe thought for a moment, then went back to the fridge and retrieved three sticks of butter. By then, the microwave had started beeping to indicate that it was finished. She pulled the warmed bag of pork dumplings out, and replaced it with the cheese dumplings, closing the microwave, and setting it for another two minutes.
Zoe was breathless. She couldn’t have imagined how hard this would have been if she actually had to cook something. She dumped the warmed pork dumplings into the mixing bowl, finding that the noodles were not hot, but warm. It suited her purposes. As long as it wasn’t still frozen, that was sufficient for her. She opened a stick of butter and dropped it directly in the bowl. Just as she was dumping a second stick of butter into the bowl of dumplings, the microwave beeped to signal the completion of its latest cooking cycle.
She knew this was madness, even as she proceeded. Who did this? She was positively binging; eating like a pig.
Nevertheless, she found herself retrieving the cheese dumplings from the microwave and dumping them over the pork ones in the huge mixing bowl. It was nearly overflowing by then.
She added one more stick of butter, grabbed a large pot spoon out of a drawer, and started mixing it all together, salivating from the aroma of warm butter and noodles. At a sudden thought, she grabbed a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese out of a fridge drawer, and poured it over the dumplings in a thick layer.
The bowl was heavy when she lifted it, Zoe grimacing from the effort of keeping it secure in her arms. She brought it to the kitchen table and set it down, before she pulled back a chair and eased her plump backside onto the seat. She felt relieved to lean back and relax. She rested for only a moment before turning her attention back to the food in front of her. She sat a little straighter.
Zoe reached into the bowl barehanded, lifting one of the plump, greasy dumplings, and popping it into her mouth.
Her eyelids fluttered as the flavors of ricotta and buttery pasta saturated her mouth. She quickly lifted a second noodle, considering that one as well. She hadn’t even thought to get a fork. It just seemed simpler this way. The noodles were warm, and but liable to burn her. She started grabbing up two at a time, and then three, and then handfuls. She squished as many as she could between her lips, chewing and swallowing as fast as she could manage. It was just so good. The pork, the cheese, the butter, the pasta. Her stomach was already severely uncomfortable, yet she couldn’t risk stopping. She had to eat it all.
The more she ate, the hungrier she became, her stomach bloated and aching, her breasts and her udder tingling. She could feel her stomach getting tighter, protesting the abuse, but she kept going.
She was starting to feel nauseous, yet she didn’t care. She was an addict and she would see her binge to completion. Vaguely, she realized that the kitchen was now far messier than before she had started cleaning. She, herself, was a mess, grease covering her hands, chin, and cleavage.
Zoe winced as her uniform dug almost painfully into her waist, but she kept going, refusing to slow down. She continued to stuff pasta into her mouth by the handful, sometimes wincing as she gulped them down. Her jaw seemed to be constantly working, but at least the noodles were soft and pliable. It wasn’t hard to compress them, nor to get them down her throat.
When Zoe finally finished all the dumplings, she was panting like a dog. She looked down at the grease at the bottom of the bowl. Almost without thinking, she lifted the bowl and brought it to her lips, tilting the remaining melted butter into her mouth.
This was gluttonous. Disgusting. All the same, she gulped it down. After she was finished, she slumped back in her chair, gasping for breath, her hands cradling her stomach.
She was a bit shocked by how round her belly had gotten. Perhaps it was finally starting to succumb to the constant abuse of her eating binges. It was pushing outward in a blatant curve, making her look as though she was pregnant. Zoe released a belch, then just kept breathing. She felt so tired and dizzy. She felt like she could pass out.
She had pushed herself to the brink, yet somehow it still wasn’t sufficient. She knew that she could push herself further, even if she didn’t know why, or for what purpose.
Zoe gripped onto the table, her hands trembling slightly. She pushed back her chair, and heaved herself up, whining. One of her hands clutched at a stitch at her side, and she waited a moment for the pain to mitigate.
Finally, she started towards the fridge. She paused, covering her mouth, her face scrunching and her insides heaving. She fought the potent wave of nausea, sucking in a deep breath of air. Refusing to purge even a drop of what she had consumed.
Finally, after a minute, her stomach had calmed down a little. Her breasts felt achingly tight, nipples stinging as her flesh tingled with liquid heat. Her udder was burning more than it ever had before, her teats stiff under the compression of her maid uniform. The top buttons of her dress were truly staining, her cleavage heaving against them.
Cupping her gurgling stomach, Zoe practically staggered to the fridge. She wrenched it open, as she gasped for breath, her eyes looking wildly around as her pulse pounded against her temple.
There it was. A large chocolate cheesecake she had gotten from the bakery department of the grocery store. This would serve as the perfect dessert.
Zoe brought it back to the kitchen table, nearly plopping down in her unsteadiness, still breathing heavily and feeling dizzy as she peeled off the plastic cover and gazed down at the pre-sliced dessert.
She had never been particularly into sweets. Her interest in cheaply made, previously frozen, bakery section desserts had been nonexistent. But now she stared at the cake with a potent need. She wasn’t even sure she considered it to look appetizing. But it looked heavy. Rich, and dense. Caloric and sating. Filling—overfilling. She felt as an animal did when seeking calories for hibernation. It hit her. That’s what she was doing. But she wasn’t hibernating. All the same, there was something compulsive to this; some innate need she couldn’t identify. Her body wanted the calories, and she was helpless to stop it.
So Zoe dug in.
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Her phone was ringing.
Zoe stirred awake.
She lifted her face from her folded arms, which in turn were resting against the kitchen table. She dizzily blinked around.
She must have passed out.
The first thing Zoe noticed was that all but half a slice of the cheesecake had been consumed. As disturbed as she was, Zoe was honestly impressed by her handiwork. That had been a lot.
Belatedly, she registered her immense discomfort, twisting her face as she stretched her back, arching and groaning, cupping the top curve of her belly. A loud belch came up her throat. She rubbed her belly more, cursing under her breath. Wondering how much weight she must have put on in a single evening.
She was truly transforming. She had gone from a short skinny girl to a voluptuous vixen that was steadily getting plump. The rapidness of her changes must have been bizarre to an onlooker. She flinched as her nipples stung and started to leak into her uniform. Looking down, Zoe could see another pair of buttons had torn off, her round breasts nearly spilling out into the open.
Her phone started ringing again.
Zoe groggily grasped around until her hand closed around the shivering device. She lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”
