Slime, Part 5

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Summary: Eve finds herself pregnant with a strange, alien slime, and starts giving birth to slime babies. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, alien impregnation, unbirthing, and more.

Previous Chapter

-

Eve just needed some cash.

The wait in line at the ATM was unbearable, but then, it was the weekend, and everyone was eager to dig in to their pay checks. Eve felt embarrassingly exposed, even in the new maternity dress she had had rush-delivered to her house the night before. The material might have sat loosely on another woman, but it was slowly stretching out on Eve. She tried to tug it down, cover herself up, but the slime seemed strangely agitated. It was heaving, visibly, to the point that a few people had taken notice and begun to stare. Eve was left breathless and flushed, practically drooling as she squirmed to contain the shaft that seemed just as keen as her belly to distend and make itself known.

Her dress was steadily sliding upwards as her slime-belly bulked and shifted outward. Eve pressed her lips struggling to contain a groan. She could feel her ass bobbing, though she could hardly recall it being large enough to actually wobble behind her. She shuddered and gripped the wall with one of her hands as she felt the spandex shorts she was wearing under the dress tighten and shrink against her, until they were small enough to practically be hot pants, and were pasted to her skin. The shaft was straining against the fabric, desperate to break loose. All of this was too much for Eve. She fidgeted and shuddered, feeling as her ass began to protrude free of the back of the dress, her belly desperate to do the same, to bulge out in the open. Eve desperately tugged the material down with her free hand, trying to hide the shaft a little longer.

“Miss?” said someone.

Eve abruptly noticed that it was her turn at the machine. Distractedly nodding to no one in particular, she lumbered forward, knees weak beneath her.

Her belly pressed into the panel as she hastily inserted her card and typed in her pin number with a shaking hand. She felt like she could collapse but she tried hard to focus. She withdrew a few hundred dollars, just enough to get her through a couple of days in case she couldn’t make it back out.

Once Eve was finished, she jammed the bills into her purse. It took every ounce of her mental and physical energy to turn around. By then the shaft was all but popping out beneath the dress, a long, thick protrusion tenting out her shorts. Everyone cluttered in that small room was staring at her in shocked silence. Eve drew a deep breath and wobbled for the door.

She brushed past people, and was pretty sure her belly bounced into a child, nearly knocking him over. The parent swooped down to clutch the child close with an almost fearful look on his face. Eve just focused on getting out of there. She swung the door open, taking desperate gasps of breath. She began to exit onto the sidewalk, when her belly shuddered forward, visibly, almost violently, making her croak and stagger as her body heaved and stretched. She looked as though she was overdue with triplets, her swollen abdomen pulsing heavily outward and down against her loins.

“Miss, are you okay?” Someone came over and tried to aid her.

“Don’t touch me!” Eve snapped. She tried to gather herself, flustered and disoriented as she was. Fruitlessly, she again tugged down the front of her dress. “I’m—fine. Excuse me.” She part-wobbled, part-staggered for her car, collapsing against the drivers seat, which she realized could barely accommodate her. Her belly pressed hard into the steering wheel no matter how far she rolled the seat back. Her slime-breasts felt bloated tight, nipples aching. The mounds rocked on her chest where they were shelved atop her belly, each easily an E-cup by then.

She was pouring sweat as she drove, her slime-belly squeezing and tightening uncomfortably. She had almost made it home, when she realized that she couldn’t keep stalling. This couldn’t be allowed to continue, it was too extreme. So she made a turn, and found herself on the expressway, headed directly for her place of employment.

It was the weekend, so only a few scientists were likely to be in, but it didn’t matter. She needed to see someone. And maybe the lack of judging faces would make it easier to reveal what she had become. Eve zoned out as she drove. A while must have passed, because she abruptly found herself pulling into the lab parking lot. She started, then lightly shook her head.

It took some effort to climb out of her car. Thankfully the lot was empty. She panted heavily as she held the car with one hand, and her belly with the other. The dress was strained tight, on the cusp of bursting it seemed. She took several deep, long breaths, in and out, until she felt confident enough to start walking.

She knew she looked like a mess, slime mounds wobbling gently, slime-nipples continuing to leak the pale green milk right into the front of her dress, as she struggled forward. Both of her hands cupped her belly, trying to assuage the relentless motion inside and out, including a slow lurching that now occupied it. Before she could lose her nerve, Eve pushed herself into the lab.

Terry, the present decontamination proctor, stared at her. Eve wondered if he was to blame for her present state. It had all started with a smear of slime that she had unintentionally taken home on her person. Eve gave Terry a bitter look, daring him to comment, before she finished up and waddled straight for her boss’ office, now blatantly shoving down the bulging shaft. Several scientists stopped what they were doing to gawk at her.

Her loins were numb, but sore, and twitching, sometimes clenching around the shaft. Just the contact of her palm on the protrusion sent sharp spikes of electricity through her abdomen, causing her legs to stiffen and stagger. It took everything she had not to just start indulgently rubbing herself, right there in the open.

Instead, she shoved her way into her boss’ office, not even bothering to knock. Smitt was in the middle of a phone call, but he paused mid-sentence, his eyes bulging as he looked at her.

By then the…the slime was beginning to show. Around the hem riding up her ass, and in the plump flesh straining at the sagging neckline of the dress.

“The specimen—i-it attached to me,” Eve admitted for the first time aloud, her voice quavering. “It’s mass is increasing, and I—I can’t get it off.”

-

Suddenly Eve was in one of the labs, and she was the subject of scrutiny for once, rather than an observer. Several lab techs, supervisors, directors, and even consulting specialists from partner labs were called in, until the place was swarming with more people than she had ever seen there before. She was presently being held in a fortified, air-tight exam room that was adjoined to a decontamination chamber, and anyone who wanted to come anywhere near her had to don a hazmat suit, then they were decontaminated and thoroughly scrubbed down in the slow process of their exit. All of these measures made Eve realize how truly terrifying her situation had become.

She was made to stand naked in her glass room in front of the clutter of senior scientists observing and communicating with her at that moment via the intercom. It was mortifying to reveal the entirety of what she had been so desperately trying to hide.

Oddly, the shaft had…withdrawn a substantial amount, as though wary of the stares. It had slid almost entirely inside of her, with a cool sleekness and twinge of tension that shot up deep in her belly. All that remained visible of it was a plump nub that bulged somewhat from between her labia. Though uncertain about what it was doing inside of her, Eve was grateful it was gone. She could hardly stand the continuous arousal anymore, nor the embarrassment of how her body reacted to it.

“Eve, the developments are intriguing,” Smitt said over the intercom, as he appraised her nude, throbbing body through the glass. Eve was tired of being on her feet, but she tried her best to be obedient. “The specimen is revealing clear parasitic properties—but to what end? It may be reproducing, which explains how it has multiplied its mass.”

“It grew even before it attached to me,” Eve responded wearily.

The intercom went off for a moment. There was some excited discussion amongst the group of doctors, though Eve could hear none of it.

“Eve,” said a new person. Eve could not make out his name tag, as it was partially hidden behind another person’s shoulder. “Do you know what might have contributed to the activity and expansion of the specimen? The sample here has been completely unresponsive. Some say it might not even be organic anymore.”

Eve gave a hum to bear a sudden swell of heat, and struggled not to knead her hands against her plump mass. It jiggled slightly as she shifted her hips, trying to support it against her straining back. “I observed more than I experimented,” Eve admitted breathlessly. “I know I should have reported it. At first it was a-an insignificant amount of the specimen. Then it grew, and moved, and everything just got—got out of hand. But I treated it with kindness. I interacted with it a little. It became almost like a…pet.”

There was more excited murmuring. Of course, Eve was not privy() to the course of the conversation. She was just a lab tech, and now a subject. But her relevance remained incidental to the slime.

Though many of the scientists were excited, some looked at her with disapproval, concern, or even trepidation.

A particularly solemn-looking elderly doctor turned on the intercom, leaned down to it, and said, “You are not allowed to leave for the time being. I’m sure you understand. The specimen could be dangerous. It could latch on to other people. We still don’t know what it’s doing to you. We will need to observe it and determine the best measures to detach it.”

“Understood,” Eve managed.

“Why don’t you take a seat.”

She gratefully did so, easing herself down on the plain bed in the corner of her sterile little prison. She felt as though she was under a microscope, with all the scrutiny. Eve just focused on breathing evenly, in and out. This time she didn’t stop her hands from reaching up to cup the mound. She didn’t care if her overseers protested her touching it. It just needed this comfort, somehow.

In the days that followed, Eve did little more than eat and sleep, and report her symptoms. She was allowed a hospital gown. Her slime-belly became a strange source of comfort in the otherwise precarious situation, ironic though that was.

There were issues and set-backs, even with the expertise of dozens of scientists constantly consulting. The slime did not like when people besides Eve touched it. It reacted by jumping and roiling in a way that made Eve feel like she would split apart, then would settle into unpleasant waves, sometimes swelling up to the size of a beach ball, then settling down again, palpitating like the throat of a bullfrog and leaving her twisting and wheezing. Even when her examiner wore gloves, there was the same uncomfortable response. So they deemed to touch it as little as possible. Eve largely found herself doing self-examines as the overseeing scientists surveyed and supervised.

Presently she was on a treadmill jogging, or rather the closest possible approximation, which was a slow waddle. The slime wobbled against her. It was still fascinating to stare at the way it had attached to her, her body slim and narrow where shiny green slime wasn’t coating her hips, backside, breasts, and abdomen.

Dr. Smitt was monitoring her vitals that afternoon.

“It’s admittedly difficult to determine where the specimen ends and your body begins,” he told her over the intercom. “Your veins, blood vessels, even some of your organs all disappear within it. It’s hard to detect anything beyond where the specimen coats you. But you’re strong. Almost abnormally fit, and based on your history, it isn’t your norm. Your blood counts are all perfect. You have the heart rate of a long distance runner.

Eve didn’t feel like she did. She was panting heavily, pouring sweat, and her nipples were beginning to seep.

“Just a little longer,” Smitt said.

She nodded, and walked on, as she was gradually consumed by an overwhelming feeling of hunger.