Cookies & Cream 2 (Patreon)

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As the hours passed, William kept telling himself it was over. His body looked different—rounder and more curvaceous, but at least the changes had stopped. After the initial shock faded, he had a long discussion with Carter about how reckless he had been for leaving the experimental cookie in the fridge. Carter pleaded guilty but reminded William that he wasn’t supposed to eat something that didn’t belong to him.

William could only blush and look somewhere else—anywhere but downward—to avoid Carter’s accusing eyes. He knew his roommate was right, but it didn’t matter anymore. There were—visible—bigger issues that William didn’t want to deal with. If he didn’t look down, if he ignored the weight dragging at his chest, he could almost convince himself that the worst part had already passed—that this was temporary, that his body would eventually remember what it was supposed to be.

Carter, unfortunately, was not helping with that illusion. He leaned against the counter, doing a terrible job at keeping his eyes where they were supposed to. It was impossible not to look at the tits jostling around at the faintest shift or how the broad hips had a more exaggerated sway than before. Carter smirked at how his roommate’s ass cheeks bounced with each step, and the bulge at the front of the pants looked even more impressive.

William caught Carter looking down more than once, like he wasn’t even pretending anymore. “Dude! My eyes are up here,” he said, trying to wrap his arms around his chest, but the motion only accentuated their size and fullness. “You can stop staring.”

Carter smiled, unapologetic. “I’m not staring. I’m appreciating the results of what I did, of what MY cookie did.”

“Okay. That’s worse,” William replied, turning around to face away from Carter, but it only gave the man a better look at the rounded butt.

“I didn’t plan for this,” Carter added, still watching him. “But I’m not exactly mad about it either. I must admit the results are far beyond my expectations.”

William felt heat rush to his face.

Carter’s obvious enjoyment made his skin prickle. When William shifted his weight, his tits lagged behind for a split second before settling again. The delayed motion pulled his shoulders forward, exaggerating the unfamiliar curves of his body.

Carter’s eyes followed it instantly, tracking the movement without shame. He tilted his head slightly as if he were studying how the weight reacted to even the slightest shift. He couldn’t avoid biting his lower lip with a burst of lust when he noticed how William’s pants strained more visibly to contain his ass. It looked so good that the sight made his cock stir in his pants even though a man had never caused such a reaction in him.

Meanwhile, William froze every other step. Even standing still wasn’t enough to keep everything from moving, and he could feel Carter’s eyes on him. “I’m going to bed,” he said abruptly. “I’m done being looked at.”

Carter raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Are you sure you don’t want help?”

William rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not. You’ve done more than enough for today.”

Carter laughed softly and didn’t follow him—only with his eyes.

William grabbed a towel and the baggiest shirt he owned and went to the bathroom before Carter could say anything else. Once inside, the mirror nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he avoided it—he wasn’t ready to face his new form. He turned on the shower and let the room fill with steam, fogging the glass until his reflection was only a vague, distorted shape. Removing his pants felt different with the added weight everywhere, but somehow, having his cock and balls out on display gave him a sense of naturalness amid his new reality.

He carefully stepped under the spray, instinctively holding his arms as if his tits might bump into something. The moment the water hit him, he sucked in a sharp breath and went completely still. Every drop felt wrong—too heavy, too direct—like the spray was pressing into skin that couldn’t absorb any more sensation. The sensation spread, blooming outward and inward, and making his nerves scream all at once. Below, his cock reacted with a violent stir that made it rise to life.

“Ugh… damn it,” he said, absently reaching up with both hands to cup his tits as best as he could. Gravity suddenly felt stronger on his body, dragging his chest downward with an insistent pull that forced his stance to widen to stay balanced.

His nipples reacted instantly, tightening hard under the spray as sensitivity spiked so sharply it made his breath stutter. The water sliding over them felt almost unbearable, and each pass sent a jolt straight through him, sharp enough that he had to bite down on a curse. He shifted slightly, and the movement made everything sway and bounce. His tits shifted before settling again, and the after-motion left his skin tingling.

He glanced down and sighed.

They were enormous—bigger than basketballs, pushing out from his body so far that ignoring them was impossible. The rounded tits looked even more impressive when wet—the skin slick and stretched tight, catching the light along the smooth curves and making them look glossy. Water ran over them in thin streams that split and rejoined, tracing the slope and pooling briefly before slipping away. The skin looked pulled to its limit, like there was too much inside and nowhere for it to go.

“Fuck!” he said, somewhere between shock and awe.

William reached for the soap with exaggerated care. His hands hesitated in midair, spreading his fingers, unsure how much pressure was too much. When his palms finally pressed against the side of one of his tits, the weight shifted, dragging against his skin. He gasped sharply as he instinctively braced himself. His cock responded with a hard throb, now standing at full mast, a foot long and massively thick.

His tits felt dense, packed, and almost ready to burst—as if filled to the brim with something that wanted out. He couldn’t wrap one hand around one side, not even close. When he tried to lift it slightly, to see if he could, his arm immediately tensed, and his muscles strained as the weight settled differently. The mound fell back into place with a jarring bounce, and a strangled moan escaped his lips.

“Oh! Come on,” he hissed, taking a deep breath to focus on the task at hand without letting the overwhelming sensations overtake him. Still, his cock betrayed the truth with throbs and pre-cum beading at the tip.

William was almost desperate to let his rising horniness take the lead, but fought to remain calm and finish the job without losing control.

Washing his tits was awkward and slow. He moved carefully, spreading soap over skin that reacted to every touch. The lightest brush sent sparks through him, and the firmer presses triggered an aching pressure that made him hiss under his breath.

He kept stopping, swallowing hard, trying to remind himself that this was only a shower. These sensations weren’t supposed to be part of his life, but deep down, he loved how the simple touch made his cock throb more and more, pulling him closer to the edge. He shifted, trying to adjust the angle, and his fingers brushed his nipples without thinking.

That did it.

The contact was light, barely a rub—but the reaction hit him all at once. He gasped and jerked back, trembling as his cock shot without his permission, splattering the wall tiles with ropes of thick cum. His knees buckled, and his eyes rolled in his head while his balls kept sending a ridiculous amount of cum through his throbbing shaft. It was almost unbearable, but there was too much happening at once for him to collapse under the orgasm.

For a moment, he barely knew which sensation belonged to which part of him anymore.

One of his hands flew up to brace his chest as the sensation snapped tight and intense, a pulling pressure that cut straight through him. His nipples tightened instantly under his touch, hypersensitive in a way that made his heart race. He stood there for a second, stunned, breathing heavily, and then tried to gather himself to focus on getting clean. He rubbed around his nipples instead of directly over, hoping that would somehow make it easier.

It didn’t help.

He felt something warmer soaking his hand—and when he realized it wasn’t water, he froze. William lifted his hand, and for a split second, he hoped it was something else. He saw the white mixing with the water on his hand, and looking down, noticed the thin streams trailing down his skin. His hands instinctively returned to his chest, covering his nipples as if helplessly trying to stop what they were doing, but it only got worse. The flow increased.

“Fuck! Not again—” His voice broke off. His heart started pounding as his body continued without him. When he pressed again, harder this time, the pressure shifted, and the milk came faster, spreading over his hands. “Damn it!” he said, breathlessly.

He pulled his hand away, but the pressure didn’t ease. It intensified instead, packing in tighter and tighter until his skin was felt about to give. He shut the water off abruptly, not even finishing properly, and grabbed the towel with shaking hands. He took his time to let his body calm down, or at least until his cock went down to its softest state.

Drying off was somehow worse. The towel barely covered one side at a time, and even gentle pressure made William suck in sharp breaths. At least, the leaking finally eased—though it only calmed him partly. His chest felt more swollen than before, and the skin was so tight that it almost felt glossy beneath the fabric when he finally tugged the shirt on.

His t-shirt was supposed to be loose, but it wasn’t. The fabric strained immediately, stretching across his chest like never before and pulling forward at the hem. His nipples pushed firmly against the fabric, obvious no matter how much he adjusted. He gave up after a few seconds, dropping his arms to his sides in defeat.

When he stepped back into the living room for a brief second, Carter looked up—and visibly failed to hide his reaction.

“Wow,” Carter said, grinning playfully. “You look even better. They got fuller, right?”

“Shut up.” William crossed his arms defensively. “Don’t say it like that.”

Carter stepped closer anyway, with the outline of his cock visible in his pants. “I’m only telling the truth. They look heavier, tighter, even under the t-shirt.” He lifted a hand, hesitating just short of touching. “Can I?”

“Dude, no,” William said immediately, but didn’t move away.

Carter laughed softly, dropping his hands. “Fair. Still, I think you look great.”

William blushed and briefly looked down at Carter’s bulge. Swallowing hard, he decided to retreat to his room before allowing Carter to enjoy the situation more than he already was.

By the time William got into bed, it was impossible to ignore what his body was doing. The pressure had been building more intensely. His chest felt overfilled, taut beneath the skin, and the weight pulled him along no matter the position he tried.

Lying down was a nightmare.

On his back, the weight spread outward immediately, dragging across his ribs and sinking him into the mattress. He could feel his tits shifting with each inhale, settling and resettling, never quite still. Rolling onto his side didn’t help. One tit dragged downward with an uncomfortable pull while the other crushed against the mattress, forcing a sharp hiss from him as he shifted again.

He tried his stomach out of pure desperation and immediately regretted it. There was no way. The pressure was instant and unbearable, like trying to lie on overfilled balloons that refused to flatten, forcing him right back onto his side with a sharp curse.

“Yeah, no,” he whispered, breathlessly.

He grabbed pillows then, irritated and flustered, shoving one under his chest, another between to keep the weight from dragging too far, and a third braced against his side. It took longer than he wanted to admit, but eventually he found a position that didn’t feel like it was actively fighting him, even if nothing about it felt natural.

Even then, the pressure increased.

He suddenly felt milk soaking into the fabric of his shirt until it clung to him. William gasped hard as the pressure inside his tits peaked, like everything inside him was pushing outward with nowhere left to go.

“No—ugh—come on,” he whispered, trying to remain calm.

His hands moved without him deciding to do it, pressing in only enough to take the edge off. The response was immediate as the pressure shifted and then gave way. Milk spilled faster, and his body eased the moment he applied even the slightest pressure. He sucked in a shaky breath, and his shoulders sagged as the ache dulled into something almost manageable.

He stared down at himself, half-horror, half-stunned, as his hands kept moving. He pressed where his tits felt tightest, adjusting when the pressure built again and learning without wanting to what made it ease. Each movement only drew more milk out, the wetness spreading wider, and the fullness dropping only enough to keep him from tensing back up.

“This is ridiculous,” he said weakly, with his eyes half-lidded as his hands moved on their own to keep the milk flowing.

Stopping made the pressure come roaring back—so he didn’t. He stayed there, breathing slowly, working with his hands out of pure instinct until the leaking slowed on its own and the weight finally settled into something he could live with.

By the time exhaustion finally dragged him under, his tits were still heavy, still warm, still full—but manageable. He lay there half-asleep, his hands resting on his chest, hoping that by morning, Carter would have answers. Hoping this wouldn’t get any worse.

Deep down, his body felt like it was only getting started. He hated that it felt right. That scared him more than the weight itself. But as he drifted into deep sleep, his lips curled into an instinctual grin that betrayed his thoughts.

...

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