Manhunt, Part 6

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Summary: After a one-night-stand, a charming young Spaceforce captain unknowingly impregnates an alien woman who is on the run from galactic authorities. Months later, said alien woman ambushes the young captain, and transfers her massive litter to his body, against his will, just before it is time for the children to be born. She leaves the litter with him for safekeeping. As a male, he cannot birth the litter. Instead he grows and grows as he and his crew struggle to track her so that he can transfer the offspring back over to her. Contains: Male: Pregnancy/belly expansion, breast expansion, multiple breasts, butt expansion, pregnancy transfer. Some female pregnancy.

Previous Chapter

-

Tom was undeniably growing.

Yet he maintained his cool composure. And it wasn’t particularly hard. Lately, he would experience the occasional twinge or ache, or sensation of strain. But the discomfort was so minimal that it was hardly an issue.

It had been several months, and his abdominal growth continued to be sluggish, yet Tom could feel the added weight of it as time passed. He knew his rate of growth was steadily increasing. Considering this knowledge, and the fact that his occasional discomforts were progressively exacerbating, he knew that the disk was not working as efficiently as it had before. He was outgrowing the programming. It needed up be updated. Suls had warned him that this would occur.

His officers were beginning to peer at him again, as though perplexed by his calm demeanor, his ease of mobility, his athleticism, and his general acceptance of his condition. It was his new normal, and he only really groused about it when his belly bumped into walls or impeded his entrance through narrow compartments on the ship.

Tom retired to his quarters one evening after a long, mundane day of space travel. He began to change, sighing as he removed the two strapless bras that supported his breasts beneath his uniform.

Tom went to the mirror, sending a blank stare towards his bare torso. All four of his nipples began to drip slow and inconsistently. All four were plump and full, not sagging but looking engorged, as they were. The original pair had grown over time, and now resembled C-cups in size. The lower pair was growing rapidly to catch up, yet was still smaller than the upper pair.

His belly was large and round beneath them. He looked due with triplets, by earth standards. He should have been in extreme discomfort from walking around all day, carrying the weight while working longer and harder than any of his crew members. He should have been depressed and anxious as he was continuously reminded of the terrible fate that awaited him.

But Tom was none of those things. He was content. He hadn’t even looked into Iglina’s whereabouts for the past several weeks. And perhaps that was where he was seeing the true repercussions of the disk. When he had been purged of most of his depression and anxiety, he had lost a lot of his motivation and aggression alongside it. His body was comfortable enough, and his contempt for Iglina had all but disappeared.

The lactation was getting more inconvenient. By his fourth hour of work, he had begun to routinely seep through his bras. He now had to take breaks, dry himself off, and change. But the seeping would continue for at least an hour or two. It seemed his breasts were full, and had nowhere to put the excess milk, than outside of him. He would have to contemplate a solution that wouldn’t exacerbate the issue. Or look into nursing bras. He could speak to Ren about it.

He was due for a check-up anyway. He hadn’t told his medic about his newest developments, but he supposed she had probably noticed. It wasn’t as though he was making much effort to hide them anymore. That had seemed like a waste of energy.

Tom continued to change. His belly slapped against his thighs as he leaned down to pull on a pair of sweatpants. He grimaced as a restless wriggling started up in his gut. He donned a tank top, which only pulled down as far as his navel. His belly button was swollen and bulging out, looking the size of a chestnut. It twitched slightly in a strange and uncomfortable way. He hoped the spawn would relax so he could get some rest.

His belly heaved gently as he slid into bed. His dick was partially erect, but it almost always was these days. It was almost like he was enjoying the sensation of being tight and full. Which didn’t make sense, because he was indifferent at best. And he knew deep down he resented it. Maybe it had something to do with the continual pressure on his sex organs. Maybe the continual arousal was just another part of the programming. He didn’t know, but he could always ask Suls during their next meeting.

Tom ran his hands over his abdomen, causing his dick to twitch and harden. He shifted slightly, shoving his sweatpants low. He rocked and allowed the tip to rub on his belly. He thought about how fertile he was, nearly bursting with offspring.

He groaned and reached down, squeezing his gender. He came with just one pull, splattering the underside of his belly. His nipples began to seep heavily into his shirt, making him wet and sticky. That had never happened before. He fell asleep to the creamy scent of his milk.

-

The next day, his upper nipples were more distended than usual, looking dark and sore. They were irritated. His upper breasts felt hot and tight, and were heavily engorged. His lower breasts appeared fatter, nipples darker. Tom wasn’t sure if putting on bras would be wise that day, so he decided to go without.

He regretted that decision as he walked through the ship’s corridors an hour later, his four nipples visibly bulging against the fabric of his uniform. They were still so sensitive, and the feeling of them rubbing against the material of his top left him flushed and breathless.

And now everyone noticed his breasts. All four of them. The mounds had become blatant where they bobbed and protruded, free of support, and his officers couldn’t seem to help staring when he passed them around the ship.

Tom went to the medical bay that morning, and Ren looked astonished, though he wasn’t sure if it was the sight of his mounds that surprised her, or the mere fact that he would come there willingly.

“It’s about time,” she said, once she had collected her composure. “You should have been by weeks ago.”

“Well I’m here now,” said Tom, hopping onto the medical table. He winced at the way his belly against impacted with his lap. He would have to pay better mind to that.

Red had paused to give him a speculative frown. She lightly shook her head. “I just don’t understand how you are so mobile. It is quite a turn, from how your condition started out.”

Tom shrugged. “I learned to stop over-thinking things. A lot of the strain was psychological.”

It was a flimsy excuse, and Ren looked dubious. After all, had gone from waddling, griping, and straining under his condition, to running around, fully mobile, comfortable, and emotionally neutral.

Ren went about checking his vitals, doing his weight and measurements. He didn’t ask her for the numbers. She drew his top up over his belly, and as she coated the mound in the cool orange serum, she asked, “How are you tolerating the carnivorous diet, captain?”

“It’s fine,” he responded, and it was. Meat no longer repulsed him. “Have you narrowed down the potential species any further?”

“I have,” Ren responded. “To five that the federation knows of.”

“Forward your list to my network.”

“Indeed, captain. Though I would discourage you from worrying excessively.”

He didn’t know what she meant by that, but he supposed he would find out.

He sighed as his belly softened under the influence of the serum. He had barely even noticed how tight it was. There was a gentle shifting, and as he looked down, he could see that he was now pushing out of his newest uniform, a few inches of skin visible beneath the taut hem. He cupped the exposed flesh thoughtfully, smearing the goo as he did.

“Now, just the final part of the exam. If you will remove your shirt, captain,” said Ren.

Tom hesitated, but complied. It wasn’t as though he would be able to conceal his growing femininity. Ren looked at his breasts in fascination, her eyes widening as she noticed the second pair, which were tucked under, yet lifting, the upper ones. “The pregnancy is altering your anatomy,” she murmured, reaching up to touch the engorged flesh with cool, careful fingers.

Tom nodded. “Clearly.”

“The offspring should have been born already,” Ren went on. “Your body wants to nurse them, but can’t.” She gave Tom a somber look.

“I have been lactating,” said Tom, shuddering slightly as Ren’s fingers grazed one of his lower nipples. “It’s inconvenient. I was hoping for something to control it.”

Ren retracted her hands. “I’m surprised by how well you’re taking this, captain.”

He shrugged.

“Unfortunately, Spaceforce doesn’t offer many accommodations in terms of…maternity. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Your efforts continue to be appreciated,” said Tom, as he got up. Not waiting to be dismissed, he exited the room and went back to his quarters. He had something to look into. Dane could handle things on the command deck for the time being.

Once in his room, Tom accessed his computer system, and was pleased to see that Ren was still as prompt as ever. At the top of his messages was the list he had requested from her. He opened it up and scanned it quickly with his eyes.

Iglina’s race had been narrowed down to five possibilities. Ren had colored them by likelihood, with dark red being the most likely, and pale yellow being the least likely.

At the top of the list, written in dark crimson, was grimlork, as species with which Tom was only vaguely familiar. Based on Ren’s description, grimlork young typically resembled, melon-sized tadpoles, the partially-formed offspring trapped in their amniotic sacs, and forced to live in a controlled water environment (a pool, a lake, or something of the like), for the first few years of their lives where they would continue to develop. Tom couldn’t help wrinkling his nose at the concept.

At the bottom of the list, and least likely, Iglina was a v’lurkna’, whose offspring typically ate their way out of the womb, killing the mother in the process.

Tom could see why Ren had categorized the options by likelihood.

His consoles flashed, indicating an incoming transmission from headquarters. Tom closed the list and accepted the call.

“General Tao,” said Tom, saluting.

“Captain.” The elderly man on screen returned the salute. His skin was a faint blue hue and the long bags under his eyes were partially hanging off his face. “How are your efforts in the 400th sector?”

“It’s quiet here,” said Tom.

Tao frowned. “I hope your understand the importance of your mission. Three suns in the Emra galaxy are on the brink of death. Their galaxy-wide space technology is lacking in many ways. They might need aid if it starts—”

“It could be years,” Tom responded as politely as he could. “Do you intend for my crew to drift her for that long?”

Tao was silent for a moment. “Given your condition…”

“My condition should not be relevant,” Tom argued. “Have I not accomplished all my directives and met all deadlines? It is not a hindrance, and my skills are being wasted floating here in open space. I would be of better use in the spule galaxy.” Tom was just grateful that the general could not see any more than his face. Tao couldn’t see how his body had swollen and distorted, how his breasts had developed, how unspeakably heavy he looked for a man who claimed to be fully equipped for his job.

“Spule?” said Tao, crinkling his hairless brows. “Why spule?”

Tom hesitated. He decided to give it a shot. “A source informs me that there has been a sighting of the wanted criminal known as Olq, Siritha, and Iglina.” It was a lie. There was no source and there had been no sighting. “If I could just find her…” He was not usually one to prey on the sympathy of others, but he was overdue for a face-to-face meeting with Suls and a disk update.

Tao frowned at him, and there indeed was pity on his face. “Very well,” he said, finally. “I authorize your transfer to spule. Don’t make me regret this, Jenson. I don’t want the loss of your life, or those of your children, on my hands.”

“Understood,” Tom responded. He gave another salute and closed the connection. He leaned back, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He would get his treatment from Suls and resume his search for Iglina after.