Slime, Part 2

Story Directory: $5 Patrons
Story Directory: $10 Patrons
Story Directory: $20 Patrons

Story Schedule

Summary: Cona 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

-

One morning, Eve awoke to find the slime in bed with her.

She was startled, and tensed for a moment, but slowly thereafter relaxed. The slime was comfortable with her. She had learned that this was the key to its successful development in contrast to the sample at the lab. The slime seemed to thrive on warmth, affection, freedom, and a lack of the clinical cruelty that was commonly found in a scientific environment.

It lay there, misshapen in its relaxed state, heaving gently, having settled its football-size default. Eve wondered if it could actually rest, or if it was simply perching there, observing her. It made no physical contact with her, and seemed to perk slightly as she sat up.

Eve was hardly focused at work anymore. She was barely restraining herself from quitting the job. It just seemed like a monumental waste of her time. She wanted to be at home, learning as much as she could about the slime.

She continued to wake up with the slime beside her every few days. It seemed to be creeping tentatively closer, until one day it was up against her, cuddled beside her waist. Another morning, she was both amused and baffled upon waking to realize that the slime was cushioning her head, serving as a perfect pillow that cradled her head softly.

Finally, Eve awoke to find the slime atop of her. It sat on her waist, a warm weight against her. Fondly shaking her head, Eve lightly pushed it off before she got up and went about her day.

It became a normal occurrence, the slime draped over her in some way. If she was lying on her side, it would be stretched over her horizontally. If she was lying on her stomach, it would be a lump on her back.

Then one day, she was surprised when she awoke to find her night-dress stretched out over her stomach, resembling a pregnancy.

She could feel the slime beneath it, against her skin, cool and warm simultaneously, heaving as her nightdress alternately stretched and loosened. Eve shifted and managed to lift her night dress up. She shooed the slime away, feeling weirdly unsettled.

It was almost like a pet at that point. To her disappointment, it didn’t seem they were making much more progress. There was no way to really test the slime’s capabilities without truly—well, experimenting on it. But judging on the slime sample at the lab, that could prove counterproductive.

She decided to try to train it, as one might a dog, in an effort to gauge its awareness and intellect.

But the slime didn’t heed her commands. She had nothing with which to reward it, as it didn’t seem to crave for anything, not food, not toys or positive affirmation. Instead it lurched and swayed and observed her almost warily. As though it could see through her efforts and was not impressed.

But she was sure she was just imagining it.

And then came the day that everything twisted horrifyingly. She awoke gradually in discomfort and…pleasure. Something was inside of her, lurching and stretching as she unconsciously shuddered, hips twitching as sparks of pleasure shot from her groin to her stomach.

She was seeping. And yet the discomfort was growing, her insides churning and stretching as she squirmed feebly against her sheets.

Finally, she opened her eyes. Gasping, Eve ripped off her sheets. Her other fumbling hand reached out to the lamp on her bedside table, flicking it on. A synthetic light illuminated the darkness, and there was the slime, gleaming, pulsing, and shoving partway through her opening.

Eve screamed.

The slime jerked, and her insides seemed to clench in on it, because it broke off, one half rolling back onto the mattress between her thighs, as the other half shoved deeper through her opening, causing her to moan and buck as her nerve endings were strummed, her insides squeezing, and the amorphous mass shooting up into her womb.

“Fuhhhh…” she wheezed, rolling off the bed, finding herself on her hands and knees on the carpet, her face dripping sweat. Her stomach rocked, heaved, and lurched. Panting, she looked down at it, felt it with one of her hands. Her abdomen had become a rounded bump, skin rising and falling, and sometimes pushing out arbitrarily.

“What did you…ohhh godddd…get out,” she groaned, as she felt it began to shoot back down towards her opening. She unconsciously clenched, sucked it back in, because her thighs were back to quavering, arms threatening to buckle beneath her.

Eve managed to crawl across the room. She turned on the ceiling lights, making everything bright and open. The windows were dark, the world outside still and in silence. It was night time, or early morning. She spotted the portion of the slime that wasn’t inside her, that was still at the foot of her breath, almost slumped in a remarkable gesture of shame, or perhaps an indication of her own insanity.

Her formally flat torso was bloated round, the insides gradually relaxing. She looked as though she had gained fifteen pounds or was five months pregnant.

She was baffled as to why it had decided to go inside of her. Would it have explored any orifice, like her ear or her nostril, killing her instantly? Or her mouth. Or anus? She wrinkled her nose. Though it wasn’t much worse than the slime actually pushing its way into her vagina. Was the decision entirely random? Or was this its nature? What was its purpose?

She was also concerned about how dangerous this condition was. She had yet to discover how strong the slime was, but was already aware that it could change its size at will, and quite substantially. Would it get stuck and impatient enough to burst right out of her? Was it toxic, or would her immune system see it as outside bacteria, and begin an aggressive assault? There was no way this could be remotely healthy. Yet if she sought out medical treatment, she would open up the door to exposing everything the government had been keeping secret for the past several decades. The world would be thrown into chaos. They weren’t ready for the knowledge of life on other planets.

Eve stumbled to her dresser, grabbing up her cellphone. She had typed in the phone number for the head of her lab, and had almost pressed the SEND button when she froze.

She could, of course, reach out to her colleagues for aid. But she was a liability. Their only obligation to keep her alive was a moral one, and morality tended not to thrive much in the biology field of science.

Eve slowly lowered the phone. She was terrified. She didn’t want to trigger anything that might cause injury, but this was her best option at the moment.

So she squatted down. She called to it. “Hey…” she sang, attempting to sound encouraging rather than frightened. “Hey…come out…” She trailed her fingers to her opening, dipping them between her labia. She grimaced as she felt some slime residue. She tried pushing with her gut, encouraging it to shift downwards.

The slime mound on the bed trailed over to her. The slime inside her loins, however, remained motionless.

-

Eve was unnerved. In fact, her uneasiness didn’t lift in the following days that the slime continued to occupy her womb. If anyone at work noticed her abrupt weight gain, no one mentioned it, and Eve found herself touching her stomach often, curiously, uneasily, sometimes hoping to urge, coax, and encourage it. Sometimes it was just out of habit, her hands drawn to the foreign, new part of her.

At times, she would apply light pressure, urging the slime down, pushing lightly. She spent a lot of time contorted or squatted, or even sitting on the toilet, spreading herself and clenching her muscles to push. She became yet more distracted at work, in addition to taking frequent breaks, and her colleagues were decidedly unimpressed with her behavior.

She could hardly care. She was horrified; on the verge of a breakdown.

Until one morning, more than a week following the slime’s invasion of her, she awoke to find it arbitrarily outside of her—well, at least partly. It was hanging out of her opening, long and thick, almost resembling a—well, a dildo, of all things. Impulsively, she reached down and grabbed it, intending to pull it the rest of the way out. But her fingers simply sunk into the squishy mass, and she was not sure that it had always been so soft. Her eyes widened as she realized it could change its firmness at will.

As if to confirm this, the slime hardened, stiffened, causing her to gasp and shudder, unconsciously arching her back off the bed, eyes rolling up. “F-fuck,” she managed, as the slime lurched deep, too deep, causing an inhuman squeak to escape her throat. “N-no—d-don’—” The slime pulled back, her sweet pet was pumping into her, and it was all too outlandish. She could see the other potion in her peripheral vision, tentatively approaching, abashed as it had become. It crawled up, between her thighs, and before she could react, it leaned down and joined its other half, reuniting, and as a whole becoming thicker, deeper, as the fat external base of it squashed between her jerking thighs. “Ngghhhh…yess…oh god,” she groaned. “Ahhh…ahhhh…keep—goinggg…”

When it was over, she laid there, a boneless, disheveled mess. The slime had come fully out, and was perched beside her, gently prodding, as she stared at the ceiling in astonishment, and began to wonder if she was the one being experimented on.

After that, she was cagey towards it. For the next few weeks, she had pulled back on interaction and affection, hoping not to encourage it.

The slime reacted, if just by becoming more withdraw, almost skittish at times. Eve didn’t know what to do about it anymore. She was disturbed by the recent events. For the first time since her discovery of the slime, she wanted out. It was too unpredictable and volatile. It was potentially dangerous. Eve began to contemplate ways of getting rid of her sample. She could hardly sleep for fear of it deciding to explore her again. She tried to devise ways to contain the slime so that she could control it more scrupulously.

Her stomach had gone back to normal, firm and flat, but strangely vacant.

The slime continued to be withdraw and cautious towards her, having even shrunken down to the size of a softball. It remained on the floor, at the edges of the spaces she occupied, observing her, as though trying not to offend or antagonize.

It became less active, sometimes spending whole days plopped in one place. It started to liquefy, shrinking into a puddle.

And she couldn’t help reaching out to it, cooing gently, coaxing it back towards its energetic state. It was a waste, she thought, to let it become inactive again. So she began to design a program to 3D-print an airtight container similar to the one at the lab.

It took a couple of weeks, and she had almost finished the program, when she awoke one morning with the slime against her yet again.

She slowly relaxed from her startled state. The slime was simply perched atop her abdomen. And it had swelled. She lifted her night dress and was reluctantly amused by the sight. The slime had molded itself against her stomach, becoming an extension of her while taking the perfect shape of a pregnant belly.

“Very funny,” Eve scolded it gently. She struggled up onto her elbows against the surprisingly firm weight of it. “Now get off.”

But the slime did not react or move. Eve sighed and heaved herself upright, the weight of the mound shifting forward and against her lap. The slime remained firm, compact, and perfect in its shape, even having developed a belly button on the face. If it was real, she would have looked seven months pregnant. Sam cupped it lightly with her hand. It almost felt like it was a part of her.

“I have to get ready for work,” she chided it. “Come on. Get off.”

But the slime did not respond.