Nest, Part 3

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Summary: Becky is pregnant with large alien beetles which crawl in an out of her at their whim and are forming a nest inside her abdomen. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, unbirthing, and more...

Previous Chapter

-

When she lay in bed that night, and tried to sleep, she could feel the bugs crawling all over her body, rather freely now, with a sense of ownership. Even when she brushed and swatted at them, they could hardly be bothered by her less than welcoming treatment.

She tossed and turned, seeking a comfortable position. But by morning time, she wasn’t even close to well-rested.

In a daze, she put on combat boots and a baggy dress.

During her ride to school, she realized her mistake.

The bugs made thick, crawling rivers along the inside of her thighs. They were so active, her loins felt as though they were pulsing. Once she got to school, she hurried into a bathroom with her gym bag, and pulled on a pair of leggings.

She groaned, unsure of whether this was at all an improvement. Now the bugs forced themselves along, uncomfortably dragging against her legs, while partially squashed by the leggings. If anyone paid attention, they would see unsightly, moving bulges along her legs, and a thickening lump at her groin.

But she didn’t have any other choice but to wear it. It hid the actually bugs, and she didn’t have any baggier pants, not with her. Breathing heavily, Becky made her way to class.

Her belly was only getting tighter. There was a continuous twittering sensation within her. She swore, she looked seven months pregnant by then. It was just awful.

She tried her best to hold the bugs in during an essay. She fitted herself with a vaginal cup, and could feel the bugs piling up against it, trying to force their way through, but it didn’t budge.

Instead the pressure in her gut surged uncomfortably, until she had to pause several times to cup her lurching stomach.

Her insides churned visibly. She just so tight, so full, it felt as though the things were struggling, and fighting against her drawn skin.

She swore she saw a knot rolling along her flesh, the outline of a particularly fat insect. She felt like she might be sick.

Becky found herself again racing through the remainder of her school work, before excusing herself, and hurrying to the nearest bathroom.

She jerked down her pants and panties, and pulled off the vaginal cup as she dropped down on the toilet. She felt a clump bugs plop heavily out of her, before they began to just sprinkle down into the water, their movements against her loins making her shudder.

Some crawled along her thighs, up her belly, even her breasts. She just twitched and pushed, trying to get as much as she could out. There was another plop into the toilet. She sighed when her stomach finally stopped cramping.

Flicking stray insects off her torso, Becky leaned back against the toilet. She lifted her backpack from the ground and began to rummage through it.

She wasn’t sure why she decided to do it at that moment, but she pulled a large bottle of maple syrup out of her backpack, opened the cap, and began to suck it down.

Her belly heaved with her long sucks, some syrup even dripping down her chin and rolling along her chest, leaving sticky sweet trails.

She may have been imagining it—but she felt an abrupt decrease in activity. Becky sucked more and more, indulging, but also experimenting. The bugs on her thighs seemed to trail back inside her. The others, already packed in her stomach, seemed to move more slowly now, almost lethargically. She felt a sense of contentedness. Were they feeding on the syrup? Was it calming the frenzy?

Becky lowered the bottle from her lips, slumped back, and sighed, taking advantage of the slight reprieve from discomfort and squirming.

She couldn’t afford to keep having these issues. There was no way she would get through the remainder of her exams, let alone the start of college, like this.

She needed a permanent solution. And she knew that meant a professional consult.

Still feeling too mortified to visit the family physician, Becky realized her next best option. After all, she had some brilliant classmates.

-

That evening, Becky made a call to one of her classmates.

“Reyna, I really wanted to talk to you,” said Becky breathlessly that evening. She absently rubbed her hand up and down her bloated belly.

Reyna sounded skeptic on the other line. “You’ve hardly even talked to me the whole semester. What about your studies?” she added sarcastically. Becky could practically hear Reyna rolling her eyes on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Rey. You know I can be really one-track-minded,” said Becky, growing desperate. Reyna was the smartest person she knew, and the girl was absolutely obsessed with the biomedical field. “Hang out with me. Let me make it up to you.”

There was a pause on the other line. “You sound like you want something.”

There was no denying it. It would be abundantly clear the moment Reyna spotted her anyway. “Yes, well, I…seem to have run into a medical issue.”

“Becky…” Reyna reproved.

“A very unique one,” Becky insisted. “Honestly, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard seen. It will be worth your while.”

There was a long pause. When Reyna finally spoke, she still sounded dubious. “When are you free?”

“My parents will be out of town all weekend, and Charlie’s gonna be working,” Becky breathed in relief.

“See you tomorrow, then,” said Reyna. “I hope you have something good for me.” With that, the other girl hung up.

Becky lowered the phone.

The bugs were really active again. It felt as though they were swarming, squishing, pushing out at her stuffed insides. She whimpered, and grasped for the syrup bottle on her nightstand. She took several generous gulps, but they only calmed down by a marginal degree.

Then Becky’s hand and the syrup bottle wore moving. She didn’t know why she did it, or quite what she was thinking, but she brought the spout of the syrup bottle to her groin, spread her legs, and tilted the bottle downwards.

She groaned as the sticky fluid began to pour inside of her. With her free hand, she hastily shoved a pillow under her ass, lifting it up slightly, so gravity would aid the syrup through her passage. “Ohhh…” she groaned, face reddening. Vaguely, she began to wonder what the hell she was doing? But there was a marked decease in activity, the insects inside her feeling as though they had abruptly frozen in place.

There were stragglers on her thighs and the bed around her, which rapidly crawled back into her groin, causing her to groan as her belly tightened. But those, too, became still once inside her. Whimpering in disgust, Becky continued to pour.

She finished the rest of the bottle. It had been half-full. Her belly felt bloated, full, and heavy, and as she encountered the mirror, she couldn’t believe how much she had grown, how huge she had gotten in only a matter of days, her belly resembling a pregnancy, stretching her as it pushed away from her body. The sheer mass of bugs that she could be harboring just made her grimace in revulsion. But she tried not to think about it. Instead, she tried to appreciate the complete inactivity, no bugs scrambling in or out of her. It was their first episode of complete motionless since this whole thing had started. So she decided to take advantage of it, and relax.

She rummaged in her dresser for a vaginal plug to keep the bugs, and the syrup, inside her.

-

Becky awoke the next morning, thighs spread, hips twitching, belly lurching, and became abruptly aware that the bugs were back to their vicious squirming, though fortunately, it wasn’t too frenzied. Becky absently held the side of her abdomen.

She had been up most of the night, musing about it, when she should have been sleeping. But she couldn’t help thinking that it had been the perfect condition to be test-taking, the insects no longer distracting her or escaping her body. Before her next exam, she could try the syrup treatment again, gross as it was. It was time to step up her grades.

Becky removed the plug, but found no sticky syrup residue, just her normal fluids. As she pushed herself up into a sitting position, a loud belch escaped her throat, one that tasted like maple syrup and smelled like it too. It reminded her that she might want to stock up on more syrups, honeys, icings, and other sweet, squeezable substances.

As she stood up, another long belch escaped her. It seemed she was having a resurgence of gassiness, but at least she didn’t have school that day. Besides that, she was still new to—well, to being fat—and it was nice to have a break from feeling self-conscious.

Becky pulled on a baggy T-shirt dress, and left her room. She had woken up late, which meant Charlie and her parents were already gone, and she didn’t have to be discreet about her bump. She belched a few more times, scratched her side, then sat down on the couch. She idly massaged her bloated flesh, trying to kneed out the gassiness, and trying to ignore the strengthening lurches of movement.

Eventually she couldn’t put off her feelings of hunger any longer, and heaved herself up from the couch. Her appetite had surged in the past few days. Becky made her way to the kitchen, looking around to see if her family had left any breakfast for her.

There was a modest plate of eggs and bacon in the oven, with a slice of toast. It was almost too modest, not the generous portion of food she was accustomed to her mother dishing out for her.

“But I’ve gained weight,” Becky murmured sardonically as she pulled the plate out.

She demolished the food in only a moment or two. Afterwards, she breathed heavily, uncertain of why she felt so anxious.

The bugs had not calmed, but were growing more frantic in their movements. It was clear that their hunger had not been satisfied. And neither had hers.

Becky opened the refrigerator. There was a large mixing bowl of leftover mashed potatoes and gravy from the night before. Mom had intentionally made too much, knowing that Becky and Charlie were unlikely to cook while she was gone for the weekend.

Becky pulled out the bowl. She got a spoon from a drawer.

Not bothering to sit down, she set the bowl on the counter, and began to dig in, shoving spoon after spoon into her mouth, gulping it down. It was soft and slithered easily down her throat, lurching into her stomach. Though her belly was already bloated, she felt a weird contentedness in the discomfort. Becky scraped the bowl clean, then sighed, leaning her hands on the counter. The bugs had slowed down, almost placated.

Despite it, she found herself wandering back to the fridge to see what else her mother had left.

There was a massive container of macaroni and cheese. Becky picked it up and stuck it under her arm, allowing the cover to topple to the floor. She began to dig in with the same spoon as before, absently munching and swallowing as she continued to look through the fridge, barely conscious that she had already gotten something.

There was pizza leftover from the previous day’s lunch. Meat lovers with extra cheese. Six extra-large slices sat cold in the box. Charlie had ordered it, but had gotten distracted two slices in. Managing to grab the pizza box while closing the fridge door with her foot, Becky brought her bounty back to the kitchen table. She dug in voraciously, food getting everywhere, but the vast majority of it getting down her throat.

She was breathless by the time she finished both the pizza and the macaroni. She almost went back to the fridge for something else, when she stopped, really taking inventory of herself. She looked at the food sprinkled around her, at her dirty clothes and arms—at some point she had given up on the spoon and started shoving macaroni into her face with her bare hands.

Her stomach gurgled audibly and another loud belch escaped from her throat.

“Oh god,” Becky breathed, clutching her stomach. She shook her head, feeling absolutely disgusted with herself.

There was a knocking on the front door, and there couldn’t have been a worse time for it. Rather stunned, Becky wiped some gooey cheese off her face (if anything, just smearing more), before turning around and numbly making her way towards the living room.