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Bad Roommate - Female Version, Parts 5-8
🕑 Added 2025-02-16 03:04:12 +0000 UTC$7/Bronze Directory
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Summary: Violet's stomach progressively transforms into a giant breast. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, belly-breast, and more.
This story is a work of fiction. As specified through the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.
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5.
Violet awoke one morning to her belly nipple painfully hard and tingling with sensation, her face flushed. She didn't think, she just reached out, stroking, then squeezing. She belly tensed and her hips twitched.
God it was good. She was already sweating, her abdomen full of warmth and pressure. Her heated insides tensed, imploded, then spread out again. “Mgghhhh…” Milk pushed as she reached orgasm just through stimulation of the large, swollen nipple.
Violet found herself flat on her back gasping for breath, the pressure and euphoria combining in a strange sensation that made it briefly okay that she could hardly breathe. But soon she was scrambling for relief of the weight squashing against her. She got on her side and moaned quietly, rubbing her flank. She couldn't tell if she was sick of this or if she was secretly just craving more abuse from her strange body. Violet took another moment to lie there before shifting slowly to a sitting position then hauling herself up from the bed. She got in the shower and washed herself gingerly, after which she began the methodical process of getting dressed. She started with a strapless bra and panties, followed by the girdle.
The contraption felt tighter than ever and took some extra effort to latch closed. Despite the recent leakage, Violet could still feel the soreness of engorgement but she had just pumped the night before and was trying not to overdo things.
She stuffed a folded piece of cloth into the front of the girdle to soak up anymore output. Then she paused to breathe, feeling the girdle tighten with every inhalation. Her flesh overflowed the edges and she wondered if it was cutting off her circulation in places. She shifted and tugged at the girdle, looking for some amount of relief. A tearing noise caused her to tense. Upon investigation, Violet found that the material had begun to rip at the side but it hadn't given way completely. The girdle was still in one piece, at least for the time being.
Sighing, Violet pulled on a large shirt she had custom-ordered from a maternity shop. She had to sit down on her bed to drag her leggings up her legs where the waistband settled low on her pelvis beneath her swollen abdomen.
Before getting up, Violet paused to look at her phone. She visited the maternity site where she had ordered the newer, larger shirts. She scrolled the main page for a few minutes before going back up to the search bar.
She typed in the word “girdle.” There proved to be various options and she could filter them based on “trimester,” material, and level of support.
Violet threw a glance down at the compressed mound in her lap before looking back at her phone.
She selected a high-support girdle that was extra-large, for women at term with twins. Her cheeks were hot as she placed the order then she just stared at the wall for a moment. Things were getting out of hand. She knew it. But what was she going to do about it?
Violet heaved herself up from the bed for the second time that morning, grunting out as she pushed her belly forward. Clutching her back, she took a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes automatically rested on her swollen mass again, her feet no longer visible beneath it. Then her gaze shifted upward to her chest. For a moment she studied the pair of breasts perched there. Originally, she has just thought it to be some idle weight gain but they were too full now, and too round. They were perched so innocent and perky, high on her chest, having swollen up to C-cups only recently. It was all so overwhelming.
Violet was heavy. Just the act of dragging herself around was becoming an exhaustive process. She had even started to waddle a little. It was humiliating yet somehow her mind always trailed away from all these downsides to the impossible pleasure—more pleasure than she had ever experienced through sex or orgasm. This belly-boob brought with it something unprecedented. It was like a new sex organ on its own.
Alex threw a grin after Violet exited her room. The more-slender college student was in the kitchen whipping together breakfast for god knew what reason.
“How's the baby?” Alex joked as she walked over. She lightly patted the side of Violet's belly.
“Ha ha, very funny,” said Violet sarcastically.
Alex just kept grinning. She looked so small in the shorts and tank top she had on. “I made breakfast. How do buttermilk pancakes sound?”
They sounded great, to be honest. “I’ve got to get to my calc final,” said Violet, grabbing her backpack off the couch.
“Come on Vye, just a taste.”
Violet clutched her back and waddled over to the kitchen. There was no denying that she moved like a pregnant person.
She demolished three fat pancakes rapidly. They were delicious, buttery, and sweet. A curious aftertaste sort of reminded her of her protein shakes for some reason. She grabbed another, messily rolling it up and dipping it into the saucer of syrup on the counter, before hurriedly gulping it down.
Violet groaned and clutched the underside of her belly as her nipple ached, trying to push out against the tight girdle.
Alex raised an eyebrow, her face always so open and inviting. “You okay?”
“No. I mean, I—I shouldn't. I have to go.” Violet wiped her mouth and headed for the apartment door, hoping that she wouldn’t look as bizarre as she felt once she got to class.
Violet rode slowly to the math department building on the far side of her college campus. As she parked and walked inside, she could feel the intrigued gazes of other students following her movements, but she tried her best to ignore them.
Violet began to worry that it was a mistake that she hadn’t allowed Alex to drain her, particularly when Violet chose a desk in the back of class but couldn’t imagine how she could negotiate her body’s entrance into the small space between the desk and the connected chair. The process had always been easy before.
But in recent weeks it had gotten tricky, wedging herself in there as she squished her mound down. Still, she had managed.
Now, with Violet’s recent surge of growth, the space looked smaller than ever before. She eased herself towards the seat, and as she did, she wondered if the girdle had been a mistake for this outing. Though it lifted weight from her back and kept the belly-breast from bouncing around too much, it also left the mound quite firm so that it was less malleable and decidedly harder to squish down into any shape aside from that of the girdle. It was compressed into a tight dome.
Violet released an unintentional grunt as she finally shoved herself into the seat. Several students swiveled their heads around to look at her. She swore her gut was trembling in protest, ready to tear the desk apart. In truth, her flesh was no match for the marble, metal, and plastic combined to create the piece of classroom furniture. And so the breast ached more with every moment that the desk was pressed into it as it sought somewhere to push out and escape.
The exam was hard, not just because of the material, but because Violet was in such an extreme state of discomfort. She could hardly focus on the questions and found herself fidgeting continuously, pawing at the swell. It was just too tight. A hum escaped her throat as she felt herself starting to leak. A few of the nearest students threw her glances.
Violet raised her hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?” she entreated.
“This is a test,” the professor responded with a concerned look.
Violet obediently lowered her hand and turned her attention back to her exam paper.
She felt as though she could hardly breathe. She was being suffocated by the desk and her own body. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She felt like she could pass out. “I’m sorry.” She dislodged herself from the desk with a surprising amount of effort, nearly toppling once she freed herself. Panting, she clutched her girth and waddled toward the door as the professor stared after her in shock.
Violet stumbled into the hallway and leaned back heavily on the wall. She would try to explain herself later. Crap, what if she failed the class? No, it would be fine. She would just explain that she needed better accommodation than the small student desk. And if that failed, she could claim illness or—or something.
Violet wasn’t certain but in all her frantic scribblings, she thought she might have gotten three quarters of the way through the test. Maybe somehow that would be enough for a passing grade. Heaving a heavy sigh, she pushed herself off the wall.
With the motion, a damp patch bloomed in the middle of her shirt. Biting her bottom lip, Violet strained to contain the outpour of milk but it felt like it was overflowing her, ready to spill out. And the tightness of the girdle didn’t help. She made her way outside to the parking lot and shifted herself onto her motorcycle. The fit was terribly awkward. The student desk had squeezed her but now she had the opposite problem. She felt insecure and unbalanced as she gripped the handles, her belly-breast squashing against the frame of the bike that seemed to push her back with equal force. She would just have to hold on.
Violet started the bike, her breathing thin and the girdle only seeming to tighten. Maybe she should have found a bathroom and taken it off before her departure, but right now, Violet had no desire to go back into the campus building. She just wanted to go home, back to the privacy of her small apartment, and to Alex’s lips which were almost medicinal in how well they soothed her.
Violet pulled out of the lot. “Ngghhhhhh…” Her belly vibrated even with the girdle containing it. Milk gushed free more forcefully as her shirt was rapidly soaked to the point of being pasted against her. But she continued to drive, even when she grunted or whined out as her bike hit a bump in the road. She felt as though she could burst at times. It was just so much stimulation. She could hardly breathe. Instead she gasped and choked out breaths until she got to her building, by which point she was close to tears. Violet parked her bike and made her way inside.
Violet felt as though she had just climbed out of a swimming pool, she was sweating so much. Alex was hanging out at the dorm as usual. Did she even go to class anymore?
Violet’s fingers fumbled at her gut, desperate to free herself of the device that was just short of torturing her by that point.
“Violet?” said Alex with a questioning look.
“Aghhh!” Violet cried out as she undid one of the latches and the rest of the girdle tore apart, her shirt shooting upwards as her belly-boob bounced and popped out into the open, Violet gasping for breath. She was massive. She clutched her mound, trying to hug it to her. Alex stared on, looking entranced.
“Fuck, help me,” Violet moaned as milk poured, but not at its typical volume or speed. Instead it just pushed out in a sort of ooze, rolling down the underside of the mound while showcasing the increasing thickness Violet had noticed it as time progressed. Her milk was closer to cream now, but a bit thicker. It didn’t spray, it seeped. This was more convenient for clean-up but it also put a new tension on the massive nipple as well as an increased burden on her body which was now slower to drain.
“N-need you,” Violet pleaded.
“Yes,” Alex responded with no hesitation. She closed in, but instead of kneeling down, she just hugged Violet, squashing the fat mound between them as Violet grunted out in discomfort, her whole body shaking.
Alex reached down to knead the flesh with her hands. “God, you look pregnant,” she muttered. “You look like you have a bunch of babies stuffed in there.”
“I c-can’t—”
“Shhhh, its ok,” Alex cut her off.
Then she did something she had never done before. She kissed Violet. On the lips. It didn’t help but it distracted, if just a little.
“Hold on,” whispered Alex. “Just a little longer. Just a little more.”
Violet’s body strained. Her gut trembled. She groaned out as her mound pushed into Alex just a little harder as milk seeped and rolled between them.
There was a stinging sensation on her chest. Violet looked down to see two new small damp spots on her shirt. The swollen C-cups perched there…they were leaking. “Ngghhhh…”
Alex only seemed to squeeze her harder. Showing no intent to offer relief.
Violet was just so full, so over-packed with milk.
And Violet began to wonder for the first time if hers and Alex’s wasn’t the healthiest of dynamics.
6.
The new girdle Violet got was not as supportive as the last one, but it was the best she could do at her size. She cupped the side of her swell, which sat low on her abdomen, bobbing gently with her heavy breathing. This would just have to suffice.
Violet pulled a jacket around her shoulders, even though it didn’t serve much of a purpose. Her belly bulged entirely through the opening, the buttons not coming vaguely close to being able to close. Her leggings were pushed low on her hips, beneath the belly-breast and she had to consistently pull her shirt down to keep the lower half of her stomach from pushing out into the open. She looked as though she was overdue with twins, though she imagined she was heavier, just from the weight of the milk that filled her. And her belly wasn’t completely firm as it had been with the previous girdle. This material was softer and more malleable. It caused her belly to jiggle and bounce with her movements. And her bulging navel was all the more visible, protruding considerably from the center of the swell, looking bizarre. It was bigger than a golf ball when it wasn’t even erect. Violet tried not to pay too much attention to it, because she knew that when she did, it tended harden to an even larger and more bizarre state, bringing with the growth discomfort and arousal that she didn’t think she could handle at that particular moment.
When Violet waddled out of her bedroom, she had to admit that it was a small relief that Alex was nowhere in sight. Alex’s bedroom door was closed so Violet surmised that the other college student was still sleeping. It was early enough. And honestly, Violet needed a break from Alex’s marked focus on Violet’s belly. It was the main attraction. All Alex ever wanted to do was touch it, squeeze it, suck it, or even talk about it. It was hard enough for Violet to be productive with a giant breast attached to her body. Alex’s obsession certainly didn’t help.
Violet absently rubbed the side of the warm mound.
Though she had managed to pump herself the night before, it felt somewhat engorged. Not full, but it was getting there. Lately, Violet could hardly last a day without needing to be drained. Then there was the paranoia that she would start leaking at any moment. Violet tried to push these thoughts away.
Her laptop charger had broken, and with Violet’s increasing dependence on online courses, she could not last long without a replacement. Fortunately, there was an electronics shop around the corner. But she hated leaving the house without eating anything.
Violet thought about making some eggs, but at the sound of shuffling noises coming from Alex’s bedroom, Violet settled on a quick protein shake instead. She filled her 32oz water bottle with some heavy cream and several scoops of her protein shake, even though the recommended serving size was only one scoop. She just couldn’t control her appetite lately. She added a few scoops of ice cream just to treat herself a little, before screwing the cover and shaking the bottle. She was already chugging it down as she looked around for her keys.
Alex’s bedroom door opened. She was just wearing some shorts and a bra, one hand scratching her bare rib is she yawned. “G’morning.”
Violet lifted one pointer finger to indicate for Alex to wait as Violet continued to rapidly drink her shake. By then she had gotten used to the aftertaste, having grown to enjoy it. They must have changed the recipe up but she didn’t mind it.
Once she finished the bottle, Violet lowered it, gasping. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Morning.”
Her belly gurgled. She was still hungry. Without really thinking, she took the protein powder back out as well as the heavy cream. She began to make herself a fresh shake for the road. A grinning Alex wandered into the kitchen. Alex pulled a bottle of chocolate syrup out of the cupboard and set it on the counter with the other things Violet was putting into her shake. Violet gave a glance at the bottle, shrugged, and started squirting generous amounts of the chocolate syrup into the new shake.
“I wonder if that’ll make your milk chocolatey,” mused Alex lightly.
Violet scoffed. “I don’t think that’s how this works.” Then again, who the hell knows.
“How’s the milk-baby doing this morning?” Alex joked.
“I uh, I actually have to run. Laptop’s giving me issues. See you later?” Violet was already sipping at the new shake as she waddled towards the door.
“Yeah, later,” sang Alex.
-
The trip to the electronics store was slow and steady. Violet was getting used to the stares. She was learning to ignore them and just focus on staying balanced. It’s as though they’ve never seen a fat person before. Violet rolled her eyes.
Her stomach was doing strange things, like emitting gurgling noises, and there was an odd bubbling sensation. Violet’s hand slid to the underside of the huge mound. She tried to breathe evenly, long and deep. Even the swelling of her chest was becoming a real problem. The way her swollen pink nipples rubbed into her shirt was both uncomfortable and distracting. They were getting achy from all the abuse of the cotton, even with her bra as a barrier.
Violet finally arrived at the shop. She was fidgeting when she got to the customer service counter. The pressure in her gut was building and she was panting from the walk.
Thankfully, most of her belly was concealed behind the high counter, so it wasn’t too much of a distraction to the store clerk who greeted her.
“How can I help you, miss?” he said.
“Um, I just need a new charger for my laptop.” Violet showed the clerk the specs on her phone. Her free hand absently rubbed her belly-breast up and down. She could tell it was rapidly becoming engorged. This was just getting ridiculous.
It seemed to take the clerk forever to find a suitable laptop charger. By the time he returned, Violet was pouring sweat. He began explaining the specifications but Violet could hardly hear him. She waited for him to get to the price, then shoved money at him, took the charger, and turned.
Violet’s shirt was wet under the jacket. Maybe that was why she had opted to wear one. Her breasts were leaking—the C-cups on her chest. God, what was happening to her body? She was becoming a milk factory.
Violet’s heart was racing when she got home. She was feeling suffocated as usual. The first thing she did was shed the jacket. She pulled up her shirt and began to fumble with the girdle, doffing it as quickly as possible. Her belly felt bloated and full now, but it was too soon to milk it again. And maybe all that did was stimulate it, and making it grow more. Violet sighed.
She noticed Alex sprawled on the couch watching TV. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Alex responded distractedly. She had a plate in her lap, and every so often she would pick from it with a fork.
“What are you eating?” Violet couldn’t help asking.
“Just some quick pasta. There’s more on the stove.”
There was a large, covered soup pot sitting on the stove. Violet went over and opened the lid. She was surprised to see how crammed it was with pasta. The pot was completely full, and Violet could smell the strong aroma of butter. It looked like the pasta also contained some ground beef, bacon, tomato sauce, and a massive amount of mozzarella. “You made a lot,” Violet remarked.
“Yeah, I’m not really good at measuring,” muttered Alex, eyes on the TV.
“Smells great.”
“Help yourself, girl.”
Violet got a large bowl. She was doubtful that the two of them would be able to eat all this pasta before it went bad, so she filled the bowl to the brim and happily indulged. There was that aftertaste again. Violet wondered if it was herat this point. Either she was getting sick or it was all in her head.
Violet had already gotten through half her bowl, just standing there, thinking. Shrugging, she gave herself an early refill since she was already by the stove. Some pasta slopped over the edge of the dish. I’ll get that later, Violet thought, stepping over the noodles on the floor. Balancing the bowl carefully, she made her way over to the couch. At seeing her, Alex straightened and lowered her legs to make room. Violet eased herself down. “What are you watching?”
“The Prince Groom IV,” Alex shrugged.
“Oh, I heard this one was good.” Violet sunk into the couch, trying to get comfortable. She rested the bowl to the top her mound, continuing to suck pasta down hungrily. Her shirt had slid up a good deal with the motion of sitting, having risen almost over the belly-nipple that had become of her navel.
Violet ate quickly and mechanically as she became immersed in the movie. At some point she must have lowered her emptied bowl to the coffee table because she startled when she felt a hand touch her waist.
Alex’s eyes were still glued to the television, but she had one-handedly slid Violet’s shirt up to release the swollen nub, and it admittedly felt nice. Violet relaxed again, enjoying the sensation of Alex idly stroking the mound. She knew she should have told Alex to stop, but it was somehow relaxing. It was practically harmless anyway, the strokes turning into a firm, circular rubbing around the nipple. Violet’s breathing thinned a bit, her face warming, and her flesh tingling. The movie had moved past its climax and was winding down, Violet’s eyelids getting heavy. With the uncontrollable growth of her abdomen, she had all but given up on her diet. She knew all the overeating was contributing to the fatigue. It was the middle of the afternoon; she should have been studying. But as much as she tried to keep her eyes open, her eyelids only sank, making contact with the bottom lids then blinking open again. It was just so comfortable, the warmth, the closing credits song, the strokes of Alex’s hand.
Then Alex pulled away. The couch shifted. “Do you want more pasta?”
More pasta sounded great, but Violet resisted. “I shouldn’t…ahh…” She tensed up, her belly abruptly feeling tight and pressurized. Her back arched by instinct as her abdomen shuddered then pushed out. “Nggghhh!” Violet squirmed, her face red and sweaty. She was having a growth spurt. “Agghhh…fuhhhh…” she groaned, struggling to breathe, hands clutching the tight mass as it shivered and jutted out.
When it ended, Violet was bigger than ever, air knocked from her lungs. Her belly sat on her lap, huge and shivering. “Hahhhh…hahhh…” Violet struggled to catch her breath.
There was a long moment before Alex finally spoke from where she was standing to the left of the couch, just outside of Violet’s field of vision. “Geeze Violet, are you…are you okay?” she managed. Alex hesitated. “Do you…do you want me to—?”
“I think, I um…” Violet just needed a minute. Several, probably, because her mind was still trying to wrap around what had just occurred. “Can you help me up?” she asked weakly.
“Sure. Of course.” Alex hurried over and helped pull Violet to her feet, where Violet teetered slightly.
But Violet was quick to adjust. She spread her legs. “Think I’m gonna… gonna take a bath.”
“Right.”
Alex helped Violet all the way to the bathroom. By then Violet had already found her footing.
Violet shuffled inside and closed the door, her heart still racing.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Alex called from outside.
Violet made her way to the bathtub. She gingerly lowered herself to the edge, before reaching for the tap and turning on the hot water. She sat there and watched the water slowly fill the basin, still trying to remain calm down and get her breathing to even out.
She kept a spare pump in the cabinet under the sink. Violet just managed to reach it from her spot. She set it on the floor beside the tub before she slowly eased herself down into the water. But she didn’t sink completely. Though the water was so high that some of it spilled onto the floor as her body submerged, her belly protruded up from the surface, crowning out of the water, too big to be covered with the rest of her. Violet just shook her head and slumped back against the porcelain.
7.
She looked as though she was overdue with triplets. Her belly resembled a muffin top in the way it crowned and bulged over the opening of the tub, not able to fit in with the rest of her. She groaned and panted helplessly, her hand fumbling, trying to reach for the pump. She was just so full.
Violet grabbed the pump off the floor. Her mass heaved with her heavy breathing. Somehow the C-cups on her chest looked comparatively small as they jiggled there.
Violet fumbled with the pump. She could hardly fit it over her massive belly-nipple, but she managed to align the suction attachment to the small crease in the center of her nipple where the main opening was.
Violet turned the pump on. She released a relieved whimper as it started to suck, drawing milk out of her swollen gut. God, it felt good, it felt so good. She moaned and arched, tightening her abdominal muscles, desperately trying to shove the milk out. It was just too much. It started to gush, overflowing the suction attachment, which in turn started to slip. Violet moaned and grasped onto it, holding it in place the best she could. It pumped and pumped, her milk gushing through the tube as she gasped for breath. But then there was a sputtering noise. The machine beeped. Violet opened her eyes.
The machine was jammed. With trembling fingers, Violet reached down and massaged the tubing. The beeping stopped and the machine began to work, as it went back to sucking. Violet gasped and leaned back, but then the machine sputtered again. The beeping noise resumed.
"Crap," Violet groaned, starting to massage the hose again, but this time it didn't yield any effect. She turned the machine off, then on, but it still wouldn't work. She clumsily reached down and disconnected the hose, running some water through it, even blowing on it until the milk lodged there was clear. She got some of her milk on her fingers. She couldn't believe how thick it had become. It felt almost like a milkshake consistency. "Jeez," she murmured, as she connected the ends back to the suction attachment and machine.
It started to pump for a fleeting instant, then immediately began to sputter, the beeping starting up again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Violet pulled the suction cup off her belly-nipple and threw it to the ground by the tub.
Now she couldn't even pump! She took a moment to process the ramifications of that, her heart pounding as she tried not to panic. It was okay. No big deal. She could just order a new pump, something better. And if not, she could handle this manually. After all, breast pumps were fairly contemporary.
Manually. Right.She was sure Alex could help with that. Yet that idea sounded counterproductive somehow. Violet bit the inside of her cheek.
There was a light tapping on the bathroom door. "Everything all right in there?" Alex called.
"Yeah, um, just a minute!" said Violet.
Violet honestly didn't want to get up but the tension was only getting worse. She grunted as she braced herself by grasping onto whatever edges of the tub she could reach beyond her belly impeding her. Even then as she struggled, she marveled at her bulging belly-nipple and the puffy pink cuppola that had become of the areola. All wiggling as her belly shivered and bobbed until she was unsteadily on her feet gripping feebly onto the wall.
From there, Violet moved at a painfully slow pace, stepping slowly out of the tub, her cheeks flushed dark, face contorted from the effort. She finally made it onto the floor mat, where she grabbed a towel and dried herself off the best she could. She wrapped the towel around her waist then inched her way towards the door.
Violet threw a glance at her reflection in the mirror, and was momentarily astonished by her bizarre and expansive frame.
After a moment, Violet tore her gaze away. Immodest though she looked, with all three of her breasts sticking out in the open, she opened the bathroom door. She felt defeated. Just a few paces away was Alex, staring at her.
"Gonna—p–pop," Violet managed, hands pawing helplessly at either side of her swollen mound.
"God, Violet," Alex said, closing in.
Alex got on her knees and started drinking, not even waiting for invitation. She wrapped her lips around the huge nub and sucked greedily, releasing a moan as her mouth filled up. "So delicious," she murmured, before taking another draw.
It felt amazing. Violet was just glad that the bathroom doorframe was close enough that she could lean back on it to brace herself. Her belly heaved with her heavy breathing, Alex keeping a firm hold. Alex cupped at Violet's swollen flanks, squeezing to increase the flow of milk, making Violet throw her head back and cry out. “Ungghhh!” The breasts on Violet’s chest squirted out innocent little streams of thin milk. “Fuhhh…godddd…” Violet slumped harder against the doorframe. Her hands weakly reached down to grip Alex's hair. "God you're so good. You're so fucking good."
Alex just kept drinking.
She drank for many minutes, maybe even up to an hour. It was hard to tell. Violet was boneless just trying to catch her breath. Suddenly she felt incredibly good. Still heavy, but considerably lighter. Her skin was still hot but now in a good way, and tingling pleasantly. The dopamine drugged her and washed away her worries.
Then Alex finally stopped. She kept Violet's big belly-nipple in her mouth, and for a moment Violet thought she would resume drinking. But then Alex pulled off with a wet popping of suction, and just rested her forehead onto Violet's soft, fat mass. She chuckled quietly. "Somehow it tastes better every time," Alex murmured. "Why do you taste so good?"
Violet just gave an amused huff. "Thanks for — well, you're a real life saver."
"My pleasure."
"I know."
Both laughed.
Alex steadily climbed to her feet. She looked a little bloated herself, as she held her own stomach. "We should get drinks," Alex said.
"I think I need one," Violet admitted wearily.
Alex walked to the kitchen but Violet made her way slowly to the living room couch. Alex joined her there a moment later, carrying two wine bottles, which she sat on the coffee table.
Violet didn’t hesitate to pick one up, drinking straight from the bottle. Admittedly she preferred her protein shakes, but a little buzz seemed like a nice idea with all the stuff going on with her lately.
Alex didn't have any wine yet, probably still trying to digest all the milk she'd just consumed.
Alex caught Violet’s eye. "That was nice," Alex said as she grabbed the TV remote.
"Nice and weird," Violet pointed out.
Alex just grinned.
Midway through a show about cannibalistic squirrels, Alex leaned down to Violet's gut, and Violet was suddenly reminded that she was still unclothed. To her disbelief, Alex started sucking again, drinking slow and lazily. Violet sighed and allowed her eyelids to sink. She wished that Alex could drink from her forever. The sensation was luxurious, probably better than anything she'd ever felt before. She was admittedly a little buzzed, having gone through most of a wine bottle, but it just made the experience more pleasant. Alex had started on the other bottle, herself. She was a bottomless pit lately. Violet supposed all the milk was stretching out Alex’s stomach, making it more roomy.
Violet groaned in displeasure as Alex pulled away. But Alex just raised her pointer finger, indicating for Violet to wait a moment. She lifted her wine bottle and began to down it.
"I like living here," Violet reflected airily.
Alex giggled. She lowered the bottle and returned her attention to Violet's body, this time a little higher. She went for Violet's chest, nipping and sucking at the smaller, but perky pair of breasts there. Violet hissed out and shuddered. They were sensitive.
Alex was sucking like a baby. It was kind of funny. She had her eyes closed, just drinking contentedly. There was a little bit of milk there, not a lot. But it still felt nice.
Alex moved closer, swinging her leg over to straddle Violet's thighs, squishing into Violet's belly, causing Violet to release a surprised squeak, then groan, her face scrunching up.
Had Violet not just been drained, this would have been unbearable.
They were both admittedly a bit drunk.
"God, I want you," muttered Alex. "You're so fucking hot." Alex reached down, idly fingering Violet’s sensitive belly-nipple. Pressing into it. Stroking the dimple.
It was a strange thing to do, and an odd sensation, but pleasant all the same. It made Violet shiver.
"Oh my god,” Alex suddenly stammered. “It — it's going in!"
Violet drew a shuddering breath, because she could actually feel something happening, she could feel the opening on the nipple stinging and stretching as Alex’s finger pushed forward, steadily squeezing and sinking to prod inside, until it was fully sheathed and Violet was gasping.
"What in the actual fuck," Alex said drunkenly.
Violet arched and moaned out, heat and electricity surging to her groin.
After that, they didn't think. They just moved, and kissed, and touched.
–
Things had gotten too weird.
Violet knew she needed space. To gather her bearings, and regain some semblance of sanity. Because things were growing, and escalating, and just getting…well, weirder.
Violet left abruptly. She didn't even say goodbye, but she managed to leave a note for Alex. Starting fieldwork. Volunteer stuff. Need it for my resume. Be back before the new term starts.
Violet didn't know if she would actually return. She just didn't fit in anymore. She was a freak, only growing more freakish by the moment. She was scared and confused, and didn't know what to do. But at least, for the moment, she might have found purpose.
She was posing as pregnant, which was the only context in which her globe of a midsection made some amount of sense.
But even then, every organization she had applied to had rejected her. It was logical. Who would take on someone who was so “pregnant”? Violet had been rejected from the corps, mission work, the military, several not-for-profit organizations, and even a group of young hipsters who were devoted to the downfall of capitalism.
Violet had to get more creative. She decided to travel independently, even hiring a car. Her passport was enough to get her across the border, and she just went deeper and deeper, not sure what she was searching for. Answers? Purpose? She drained her accounts and went to the poorest country she had ever seen, where she was met with a depressing air of poverty. She wondered what she could offer.
Violet wasn't inconspicuous. She tried to keep her head down and her hair in her face, because, god, she was tight. Throbbing. She hadn't been milked all weekend. What had she been thinking?
There was an old man sitting by a cart of aging vegetables, staring at her. Repelled by the attention, Violet made her way towards a nearby alley way. It was late afternoon but the sun was still hot and overwhelming, hanging low and stinging her eyes. Violet shuffled her way into the shadows, and leaned on a wall, gasping heavily. She slowly sank down, backside hitting the ground. Her back was aching. "What am I doing?" She rubbed her face. "What am I doing?" she repeated as she leaned her head back against the bricks.
Her eyelids sank.
Violet was jolted when she felt several pairs of hands take hold of her arms. She opened her eyes to find that the sky was dark suddenly. Had she dozed off? "Wait — wait a minute –" Violet stammered, as she was forcibly pulled up.
8.
When Violet awoke again, she was curled up against a rather thin mattress, on a bed that just barely managed to fit her. She was in a small, unfamiliar room. The walls were scuffed and chipped in places, long overdue for a paint job. There was an old wooden dresser and a shelf with some worn books and miscellaneous household items strewn about it.
Violet shifted and was immediately reminded how overdue she was to be pumped. Not that the pump worked for her anymore… Milk was seeping out of her belly-nipple, but at a slow and lazy pace, oozing onto the bed. It wasn’t substantial, and it didn’t offer any sort of relief to the pressure. She grunted and arched, trying to force her body to expel more of the milk. This barely helped at all. She wondered how long she had been at this place. And what had she been thinking, even coming to this country? She’d had no real plan. Violet supposed she had just been trying to get away. But right now, she needed Alex. That much was evident.
“Gnhh…dammit,” she hissed, sweat pouring down her flushed face. She tried her best to relax, but even then, her mound pulsed.
The door creaked. Violet managed to turn her head just enough to see a woman peek her head into the room. “You’re awake?” the woman said in good-enough english.
“Who are you?” Violet managed. “Why am I here? Is this your house?”
The door opened wider. The woman entered, and Violet was stunned by how thin she was, just skin and bones, really. “You were lying in the street. We didn’t want to leave you there…not in your condition. It isn’t safe. Not for a foreigner. We brought you to our home.”
“Right,” Violet grunted, squeezing her eyes shut, drawing a long breath and for a moment trying to bear the incredible strain. Her hand lightly cupped the side of her mound.
“We’ve never seen anyone so heavy with child,” said the woman.
Violet huffed out a bitter laugh. “It’s…complicated.”
“I also have a baby. He is almost six months.”
At this, Violet was a little surprised. The woman seemed so small and…frail. Violet had always associated motherhood with, well, health.
The woman finally seemed to take notice of the large moist patch on Violet’s shirt and the growing dampness of the bed. “What is that? Why is there fluid? Are you hurt? Is — is the baby —?”
“No,” said Violet. “No, I’m fine, I just —um —” she wasn’t sure how to explain it. She didn’t think there was an explanation. “I’m fine. Sorry. Thank you for taking me in, and...well, thank you.”
The woman nodded, bringing her hands together to fidget somewhat. “My name is Marta. Will…would you like to join my family for dinner?”
It seemed a tall order, but Violet was at the mercy and generosity of strangers. She had no rights to be here, and yet they were taking care of her. So it would be wise not to insult them.
She pressed her hands to the mattress behind her, shifting her legs to the edge of the bed. She knew this wouldn’t be pretty, but she braced her muscles, and heaved. She released a hoarse cry as she managed to push herself upright, putting pressure on her already over-packed belly, causing her shirt to slide up and her huge belly-nipple to squirt out, splashing milk across the room and into the shelf. Violet was left red and gasping as the spray eased back down to an ooze. Marta was staring in utter shock.
“I’d love to,” said Violet breathlessly.
-
Violet managed to waddle to the kitchen, repetitively insisting that she didn’t need help, while huffing and puffing, trying to navigate with the weight of the heavy fluid packed inside of her. It wasn’t until after she had plopped down in the spare wooden seat at the old kitchen table that she looked up, catching her breath, and taking inventory of the people around her.
There was a middle-aged woman with graying hair who closely resembled Marta. The older woman practically looked offended at the sight of Violet, and turned her head away when Violet caught her eyes. “Dios mios,” she murmured.
The baby looked smaller than Violet expected it to be. He was whimpering in a high chair that looked secondhand and was rather wobbly. Violet didn’t think the chair seemed safe, but it wasn’t her place to mention that. Her own chair creaked rather ominously beneath her. She gulped.
“This is my mother, Pilar,” Marta said. “And this is my son, Hector.” She lifted the baby, who just started to wail in response, burying his face in his mother’s shirt. “My father has a farm outside of town. But he comes by on the weekends.”
Violet managed to nod, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt as she looked around the broken down kitchen. She was always wrapped up in her own problems, forgetting what was going on in the world around her.
Marta began to serve them a very modest meal of rice and beans. It wasn’t nearly enough, but Violet expressed nothing but gratitude, even as her stomach grumbled. Pilar threw her an irritated look, causing Violet to blush in embarrassment. Pilar muttered something in Spanish Violet didn’t understand.
“Mami!” Marta scolded the older woman. She sighed. “Ignore her. She’s not used to…new people.”
“It’s fine,” said Violet.
“You’re still hungry. Do you want more?”
Violet grimaced. It was true that she felt starved, but the pressure inside her was getting unbearable. If she added to it, it was going to be painful.
Marta’s face fell at seeing Violet’s expression.
Violet fumbled on her words, “No — I mean I — it’s just —” she paused, feeling helpless. “Sure. It was delicious. I would love another serving.”
Pilar muttered under her breath again. Marta just ignored her as she got another plate of rice. Violet ate slowly, trying to pace herself as she felt sweat trickle down the side of her face. Her belly heaved up and down, her hand cupping it under the table. God, this was just too much.
The baby wailed throughout the whole meal, and Violet developed her first headache in years. She was just grateful when dinner was over and she was allowed to return to her room to rest, and perhaps brainstorm solutions to her exacerbating condition. Her eyes were tearing by then, her body feeling like it might burst right open. There had to be something she could do. She walked at a painfully slow pace, breathing in long, harsh breaths. She could feel Marta staring after her in concern.
Just before Violet could enter her room, she felt a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She turned her head to see Marta standing there, looking uneasy as she fidgeted her hands like before.
“I wanted to know…” Marta glanced at Violet’s chest. “Since you’re so…” Marta trailed off, losing her courage.
“What is it?” said Violet, desperate to get off her feet.
“I can barely feed him,” Marta blurted.
It took a moment for Violet to make sense of her remark. Oh. Marta was talking about the baby.
“I can’t make any milk, myself. And formula is expensive. Most of the time we dilute it with water. We do our best, but he’s small for his age, and he’s always crying, and I — I’m just so scared.”
Violet nodded, feeling just awful to hear this.
“My husband died last year, and —”
“I don’t have much money,” Violet blurted. “But I can see what I can do. I’m sure if I can get in touch with my parents —”
Marta looked at her in confusion. “No, no. I just wanted to know if you’d be willing to feedhim. Since you’re expecting, and it looks like you — you have milk already. Right?” Again, Marta’s eyes flickered to Violet’s chest.
Violet was mortified. For some reason, the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind, which was ridiculous, given the state she was in. Of course that was what Marta wanted. And how could Violet refuse?
“O-okay,” Violet said.
It was awkward. Marta led her back to the kitchen, where Violet soon found herself seated at the table again. But this time, instead of dinner, Violet was offered an infant that was gently lowered to her arms. Hector’s noisy wails made Violet wince.
And then the three of them were just there, in awkward silence, except for the baby. Marta nodded encouragingly.
“So…you want me to just…?”
“Go ahead,” said Martha.
Her shirt proved difficult to pull down, but Violet stretched the collar as much as she could, wanting to avoid removing her shirt altogether and having to explain her breast-belly.
Marta helped her, guiding the baby gently to her chest.
And suddenly Violet was nursing. Productively. She was feeding an actual baby.
-
Hector was a lot less fitful after that. Violet nursed him again in the morning and throughout the following day. Overnight, she even got up at 2AM when she heard Hector crying. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been initially. Now Violet saw it as her duty. It was a small way that she could help these people. The baby was hungry, and Violet could feed him.
But there was still the matter of the others.
The more Violet looked at Marta and Pilar, the more she saw how truly rundown they were. They were bony and weak, surviving on rice most days. Yet Marta was always so happy and appreciative. She continually asked Violet how she was feeling; how her “baby” was doing. And Marta always gave Violet more food than herself or Pilar during meals, and sometimes asked if her nursing Hector was too draining on her energy. Violet always insisted that it was no issue; she was happy and willing.
Marta even seemed to have forgotten about the whole incident of Violet’s belly nipple squirting. Maybe she had convinced herself that she had imagined the whole thing.
In the end, Violet could hardly believe how kind the woman was. Even Pilar, despite her prickly demeanor, always looked in on Violet when she was perched on the couch in the evening. Occasionally, Pilar brought Violet a cup of tea, urging her to drink. She thought that Violet had to stay strong, for her own “baby.”
It was still hard for Violet to believe that she was pretending to be pregnant, and successfully. This level of deceit just wasn’t her. And yet the truth was outrageous. It didn’t make sense!—This unbelievable reality of having grown a giant breaston her abdomen.
But Violet was starting to realize the potential in letting Marta and her family know the truth. She could do so much more for them. They just had to…let her.
After the first two days or so, Violet stopped moving around much. She was too uncomfortable. She remained on the bed, panting and sweating all day, her skin flushed and drum-tight. She supposed her belly really did resemble a pregnancy, albeit a rather extreme and advanced one. She was almost fantastically large. It would have had to be multiples in any case. Even then, with the nipple bulge, it hardly made sense. But Marta and Pilar had convinced themselves that it did.
The door opened. Marta entered the room, carefully balancing a bowl of soup that was undoubtedly thin, almost water, likely. Her face was filled with worry, as it tended to be lately. She looked at Violet’s belly with almost a sense of trepidation, and Violet didn’t blame her. The mound actually trembled at times. The family couldn’t have afforded a doctor for her, even if Violet consented to seeing one. They probably thought she was in danger, or that her nonexistent babies were. Though Violet wasn’t full of life, but something far less delicate.
Violet swallowed. She was strained and sleep deprived, and at her absolute limit. She knew she wouldn’t have ever done this had she not been under so much strain and so desperate, almost delirious with fatigue and discomfort, pain spiking under her flesh at any given moment. The heat might have been the worst of it. She was constantly pouring sweat, and dehydrated, ironically enough. Her belly had become a furnace that she couldn’t detach.
“I’m not pregnant,” Violet managed, her voice raspy.
Marta looked at her with puzzlement. She probably thought Violet was insane.
With a shaking hand, Violet shoved away the blankets, and gripped the thin dress Pilar had made her out of some old bedsheets. Even then, it barely managed to stretch down over her mass of swollen flesh. Violet pulled it up before she could stop herself, allowing her belly breast to bulge free and exposed.
The soup bowl clattered to the ground.
