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Zoe the Maid, Part 6
🕑 Added 2025-02-26 04:30:05 +0000 UTC$4/Base 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 tugged at her sweatpants, frowning at the way the waistband kept sliding down in the front, the udder bulging over it.
She slowly made her way to her bedroom mirror. Her gaze trailed over her wide hips, plump backside, and round, perky breasts, her mounds feeling warm, heavy, and achingly full. She had been a skinny girl only a few weeks earlier. Yet in no time, she had transformed.
Zoe sighed, shaking her head. Even as she stood there, stationary in her bedroom, she could feel some sweat sliding down the back of her neck. She took long, deep breaths, her body warm and flushed even when at rest.
Zoe turned back to her books, which were laying across her bed. She gingerly made her way over, one of her hands cradling the udder to keep it from wobbling too much. She slowly sat down against the mattress, groaning as her nipples tingled and her udder settled against her lap. She still had no clue what was going on with her body. One would have thought the effects of the pink smoke would have worn off by then, but she was still progressively changing.
It was a struggle to study. As much as Zoe tried to focus on her textbooks, she was repeatedly distracted by the subtle pulsing of the udder, the heat in her breasts, the tingling of her nipples, and the many other discomforts that littered her body at any given moment. She just wanted to lay back, spread out, and breathe. Preferably, naked. Her skin was still flushed and damp, her breathing getting shallower the more she thought about it. And all her fidgeting wasn’t helping. She continuously tugged up her waistband, only for the udder to pop out again moments later. It wasn’t long before the teats were stiff and erect, and Zoe was breathing even more thinly, her face scrunching from discomfort.
And of course, against her will and better judgment, her thoughts would drift to the night before.
She would have flashbacks of Garrett fucking her, her udder squishing between them, the combined discomfort and ecstasy making her squeal. Pleasure radiated through her with every thrust, as the tension in her breasts and udder progressively climbed until her nipples just started squirting.
Garrett was delightfully rough, gripping and nipping every part that he could reach of her, his fingers exploring the new layer of softness that lined her body, and then squeezing her fat tits, causing them to ache, tingle, and release even more of their surplus.
“God,” Zoe breathed, trying to shake her lecherous thoughts aside. Now was not the time to relive her latest rendezvous with her best friend’s dad. In fact, it would be best that she forget the whole encounter. Because if she kept at this, she would just be asking for trouble. And Josephine would never forgive her.
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Whenever Zoe woke up, her hands would be on her body, either clutching her plump udder or her fat breasts, or both some days. She couldn’t seem to control it. When she fell asleep, her hands were firmly at her sides, but when she awoke in the morning, her skin would be prickling and tingling, her fingers heated, as though they had been indulgently massaging her mounds for who knew how long.
It was a problem. Her goal was to bring an end to the lactation, but this sort of treatment was only going to exacerbate it.
It didn’t help that it felt so good. Her body was practically yearning for contact. She was certain she had come several times from Garrett’s sheer fondling.
There she was, thinking of Garrett again. She wished she could delete him from her mind. It didn’t help that she lived with the cold, stoic, aggravatingly handsome older man. And as much as she tried to avoid him, that tended not to work out.
Zoe glanced at her clock. 3 AM. For some reason she kept waking up in the middle of the night, roused by hunger, heat, or sheer discomfort. She was just grateful she didn’t have classes that day. Getting herself dressed and presentable was certainly becoming complicated.
Zoe pulled on some sweat pants and a tank top, deciding she could use a glass of water. Dragging her tongue over her dry lips, she surveyed her reflection in her full-length bedroom mirror.
The tank top was low-cut and she wasn’t wearing a bra. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but in a matter of weeks, her breasts had surged from A’s to EE’s, and with the start of the lactation, they were only growing faster. There wasn’t a single bra in her dresser that could possibly fit her. And even if one did, Zoe suspected it would be too uncomfortable to tolerate any sort of compression on her tender, bloated skin.
As she studied herself, she wasn’t sure a bra was strictly necessary anyway. Sure, in terms of being presentable, it made sense. In terms of support, not so much. Her breasts were round, high, and perky, honestly looking synthetic in their perfection. Not sagging in the least. They were just so round.
Her nipples were large, erect, and swollen, bulging prominently against the tank top. The neckline was deep, and rendered deeper by the weight of her mounds, her cleavage flushed and sweaty where it protruded generously. The material was white and semi-transparent as it dampened somewhat with her sweat. Overall, it wasn’t nearly modest.
Well, she was in her own home, Zoe figured. And it was the middle of the night. She absently tugged at the tank top, the hem only pulling down as far as her navel. It was bizarre to think that this, like her other clothing, had fit her perfectly only a few weeks earlier.
The sweatpants were a bit baggier than the last ones she had put on. They housed the round udder almost entirely, though a small portion of the mound was still poking over the waistband.
The udder was getting pinker and heavier. The implications unnerved her.
In the heat of the thick cotton sweatpants, her deformity felt like a furnace. Zoe grimaced as she cupped the side of the udder. She absently rubbed it without even noticing. Unbeknownst to Zoe, in all her fidgeting and adjusting, she was constantly rubbing and prodding her highly sensitized mammaries.
Before leaving her room, Zoe tied a shirt around her waist, which helped to conceal the bit of the udder that was protruding out visibly.
Her breasts rocked somewhat as she made her way to the door. They looked to be the size of cantaloupes. Even the sheer sensation of her nipples rubbing against the inside of her tank top left her breathing heavily, trying to temper her relentless libido.
When she got to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, one might have assumed a toddler lived in the house. The fridge was packed with snacks: string cheese, chocolate pudding cups, packaged pastries, sweetened cream cheese spread, chicken nuggets, and more. As she considered the items collectively, she felt a bit embarrassed. After all, she was the one who did the grocery shopping. Have I really been eating all this crap? Zoe wondered as she pushed items around, looking for the water pitcher.
But instead of water, she came across several bottles of what appeared to be nutritional shakes. Her eyebrows raising, Zoe lifted one to examine it.
It was a highly concentrated heavy cream and protein-based beverage, fortified with various vitamins and nutrients. He was certain that she had not made this purchase, which meant that Garrett had.
Zoe raised an eyebrow, oblivious to why he would buy this. All the same, she knew nothing in the fridge was off limits. So, she twisted the top off the 1 liter bottle, and tasted the content.
It was surprisingly palatable, actually tasting like a real milkshake. And this must have been healthy, if quite caloric. All the same, Zoe liked the taste, so she drank more.
Before she knew it, she guzzled the whole bottle. Gasping for breath, she wiped her mouth on her arm.
Somehow, she was still thirsty, and there was still no sight of the water pitcher. Not that she could be bothered to search, when she had this delicious alternative. So Zoe retrieved another bottle of the nutritional shake, unscrewed the cap, and chugged that one as well. She drank and drank until her belly ached. She hummed in both pleasure and discomfort when she finished, then released a large belch that made her blush. Thankfully, she was alone.
She belched a few more times as she made her way back toward her bedroom. She found herself hesitating as she passed a particular door. She didn’t know why, but her legs stopped moving.
She told herself to keep going, but she did the opposite. She stood there, staring. She drew a deep, shaky breath, then reached down, wrapping her hand around the doorknob.
Stop it, she scolded herself.
But her logic and impulses were terribly misaligned. She slowly turned the doorknob, surprised to find it was unlocked. It had been the only barrier left.
The door creaked open.
For some reason, she had expected Garrett to resemble a corpse or a vampire as he lay to sleep. But he looked surprisingly natural, resting on his side, his soft breaths steadily becoming silent. That was how she knew he had awoken.
Garrett remained silent for a while, motionless, but she could tell his eyes had opened. He was aware of her intrusion but had yet to react.
“S-sorry,” she stammered. What the hell was she doing? “I — I’ll go —”
“Stay,” he countered, sitting up, slow and fluid. She could just barely make out his eyes through the illumination of the hallway lights. “You must have come here for a reason.”
Zoe absolutely hated his smug demeanor. Yet her body would not stop tingling, heat pooling in her loins, her body aching for contact. While her belly was full, her breasts felt uncomfortably bloated. So did the udder. The paunch felt packed and tight in ways she couldn’t serve, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. But she had the feeling that Garrett could.
“Come here,” he hoarsely invited her.
Zoe’s body seemed to move of its own accord. In a matter of seconds she was closing their distance, climbing onto the bed, allowing Garrett to envelop her in his arms.
She groaned as his hands found her brutally tender breasts, her back pressed to his chest.
He squeezed. She groaned, arching, struggling to breathe.
“With mammary glands, the more you stimulate them, the more engorged they become,” Garrett muttered, his fingers finding her nipples. He squeezed gently, causing Zoe to whimper as two damp spots formed on her shirt against each nipple.
They were already so sensitive. She could tell they were fully engorged. As bizarre as it was for her to admit, she was full of milk.
“Suck them,” she was mortified to hear herself plead.
“Yeah, are you sure?” Garrett taunted. “That’ll only make them bigger.”
But even then, they felt heavier than they ever had, Garrett’s hands languidly rubbing and massaging the plump globes of flesh. They just felt tight and tingly, so hot and wet. She was full of milk, her body straining to contain it all. She breathed thinly, her face hot and her cheeks red. “Please,” she begged. Her breasts felt as though they were throbbing; as though they were getting fuller every moment she sat there, desperate for relief.
“Are you sure,” he asked again, still playing his games. “What are they, E’s already? I’ll only make it worse.”
She didn’t care. She nodded fervidly.
Garrett smirked as he leaned down and obliged her, his lips connecting with her right nipple so softly and sweetly that she couldn’t help moaning. When he sucked, her whole body shuddered. She was strangely awed by the awareness that her body could produce actual sustenance.
She groaned and clung to him as he drank indulgently. He drank, her body thrummed, her udder pulsed, and she was acutely aware of the fact she would be paying for all this in the morning.
