Tentacles, Parts 1-2 - Male Version

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Note: This is a female version of Tentacles.

Summary: Katie is impregnated with tentacles. Contains: Female: tentacle pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, egg laying, unbirthing, partial transformation, forcefeeding, stuffing, multiple breasts, and more.

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1.

Connor followed Dr. Rogers off the train. The two walked across the busy station, Rogers’ shoulder bag hanging from the arm closest to Connor.

“Quickly. We have to hail a cab,” said Rogers.

Connor nodded. He too was eager to get the sample back to the lab.

Connor was a short, slim young man. He was in his early twenties – a Phd student, and Dr. Rogers’ current lab assistant. An aspiring biologist, he had had the honor of accompanying Dr. Rogers to the site of a recent meteor landing. It was only as the two had begun to depart from the site that they noticed men in crisp suits closing off the area. Connor and Rogers hadn’t stopped to see what was going on, instead hurrying off to catch their train back into town. The last thing they wanted was for the sample to be confiscated by some brainless uniforms over unsubstantiated concerns.

“There,” said Rogers, pointing to a cab that had stopped for them. Tightly clutching the strap of his shoulder bag against him, he began to lead the way.

“Excuse me sir.” Someone in a crisp suit grabbed Rogers’ arms. Rogers turned and the suited man flashed an ID card that read CIA. Connor took a step back.

“Can I help you?” said Rogers impatiently.

“Do you mind if I check the bag sir?” said the CIA agent.

“I do,” said Rogers.

“Hand over the bag, sir.”

Connor continued to step back, watching a struggle ensue. The CIA agent had not noticed that he was with Rogers. He watched the suited man tear open Rogers’ shoulder bag, causing papers to tumble onto the pavement. Rogers was yelling and causing a scene. Several other men in crisp black suits began to appear from nowhere and close in.

Connor slipped back into the train station and headed for the restroom. He entered and immediately reached into his pocket. He pulled out the sample. He had slipped it out of Rogers’ bag when he first noticed the agent heading their way.

It was a green elliptical object. The shape was imperfect, and it resembled a very large chicken egg in size. Strangest, it was warm. Connor and Rogers had been desperate to study it. If it had come out of the meteor – as both of them suspected – it could turn out to be an invaluable scientific discovery. In fact, it could prove that there was something else out there.

Connor tensed as he heard someone else enter the bathroom. He climbed onto the toilet and squatted to keep his legs from showing beneath the stall door. Someone was pacing the room. It might have been one of the agents.

I can’t let this slip away, Connor decided. This sort of discovery could make his career. He had to hide it where no one would find it. It was a crazy idea – he might even end up damaging the sample – but he had to give it a try. And so, spreading his thighs and tugging down his pants, Connor licked his finger and hastily prepped himself. He pressed the sample against his opening and pushed. He muffled his groan in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Is someone in there?” a male voice called from the other side of the stall. The person began to knock. “Get out here.”

Connor’s face reddened as he pushed more, stretching himself father than he imagined he ever had. He almost didn’t think all of it would fit, when the remainder of the sample suddenly popped completely through his hole. He panted.

The man on the either side of the stall was now banging on it. “I’m giving you until the count of three-”

The door swung open and a composed Connor walked out, looking annoyed. “What the hell do you want?” he said, passing the agent to the sink, where he washed his hands. “A guy can’t even take a dump.”

The agent peered into the stall then looked back at Connor. “Sir, I’m going to have to search you.”

Connor snorted. “Go ahead.”

An irritable expression etched on his face, Connor endured a pat-down. When the agent was satisfied that he wasn’t hiding anything, he let Connor go.

Connor walked out of the bathroom and back into the station to see that the CIA agents had overrun it. They were doing random searches of everyone. People were yelling. Children were crying. His face flushed and ass sore, Connor bowed his head and hurried off.

On the cab ride home, he fidgeted and groaned. With every bump the car hit, he could feel the sample sliding deeper into him.

2.

Once Connor got home, he pulled down his pants and squatted down. He reached into his opening, but by then, his finger could barely graze the sample – and then after a moment his finger couldn’t reach the sample at all. His position just seemed to push it farther inside him.

Connor dropped his hand and instead attempted pushing the thing out, but that didn’t seem to do much either. After 15 minutes of grunting and struggling, he gave up, and climbed up to his feet. He impatiently pulled out his phone and tried calling Rogers, but only received a busy signal in response.

Connor paced for a while, mostly worried about the status of the sample. What if his immune system destroyed it? He needed to get it extracted somehow, and without alerting authorities as visiting the local emergency room would.

But it had been a long day, and Connor felt suddenly, abnormally overwhelmed with fatigue. Perhaps he would speak with some trusted colleagues at school tomorrow and try to figure things out. With that thought as consolation, Connor headed to bed and fell asleep.

-

When Connor awoke the next morning, he felt…different somehow. He climbed out of bed and approached his full-length mirror, where he gasped at his reflection. Connor turned to his side, running his hands over his body.

Was he having an allergic reaction to the sample? His normally flat chest was softer, as was his backside. He looked as though he had gained a good number of pounds. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so evident on someone else, but on Connor’s ordinarily skinny body, it was startling.

His stomach was also somewhat fuller – it looked and felt bloated. Though he was not in any amount of pain or discomfort, he would have to be watchful, in case the reaction exacerbated, and became dangerous. Connor might have even considered going to the hospital right then had he not been feeling so paranoid because of the prior day’s events.

Instead, he quickly washed up, pulled on a T-shirt and some loose jeans, and headed off to college. On the cab ride there, he tried phoning Dr. Rogers several more times, but was still met with a busy signal.

His first stop was Rogers’ office, but it was locked and the lights were off. It didn’t seem anyone had been there since he and Rogers had departed for the meteor landing site the day before. Connor then hurried off to his lecture that morning and tried his best to focus but his mind kept wandering to the dilemma buried in his ass.

Suddenly his stomach lurched. What was that? He shifted in discomfort.

Connor placed one of his hands against his stomach. It felt even more bloated than it had earlier. He tried his best to ignore it, tried to focus on the lesson.

After the class, he headed to the bathroom and surveyed himself, smoothing his shirt down against his abdomen. He had grown.

I have to get this thing out of me, Connor thought. I have to try. It was clear he was having a bad reaction to whatever it was.

He passed by Rogers’ office one more time before leaving campus – the lights were still off – then he gathered his bearings and headed home to deliberate.

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