Spiders, Part 9

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Summary: Scientists attempt to breed a species of tiny alien spiders in Cona's breasts. Contains: Female: breast impregnation, breast expansion, lactation, multiple characters, belly expansion, egg laying, unbirthing, alien pregnancy/bug pregnancy.

Previous Chapter

-

Once Sana got to the lab, she immediately used her IV line to administer some labor-induction drugs to herself. She paced heavily, feeling her heart speeding up between the drug working and her own anxiety. In only moments, she found herself gripping the counter, her face reddening as a powerful contraction rolled through her body. Her large mound quivered on her torso. She unconsciously held her breath until it was over.

“Ohh…” she moaned. She could already feel a new contraction building up behind the first one, prepared to barrel through her. The induction drug of choice had been one formulated for gleekins, an alien several times the size of her own humanoid form. Sana dragged herself to a bed, managing to climb onto it and lean back against the mattress which held her upright. She managed to take in a few gasping breaths just before the new contraction hit.

Her body seized up, shaking, twisting, her huge belly giving painful, unnatural bobs on her contracting midsection. “Nghhhaaa!” she groaned, arching and twitching, spreading her thighs, trying to push with the momentum. She had chosen the drug for its quick efficiency, but she couldn’t help noticing each pang as the egg failed to negotiate the confines of her thin pelvis.

Sobbing in pain, she rubbed her palms hard on her taut skin, letting the contraction fade as the first one had. In a traditional case such as this one, the next step would be to shift the baby (or egg) into a more advantageous position until it passed through the mother’s pelvis. But the egg that Sana was carrying was unnatural in that it was a perfect sphere. It was an insect egg, not meant for a mammal to carry or pass.

Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as she realized the futility of her endeavor. Still, she persisted. Sana hopped down from the bed as the latest contraction tapered to its peak, yelping as the momentum jolted the egg low. She pushed and pushed, continuing to press down on the mass with her sweaty palms. She waddled awkwardly, hunched down, and even tried lowering herself into a squatting position through the blinding pain assaulting her in waves.

“Nrrrgghhhh…” She rubbed at her aching hips. She could feel her nipples dribbling. She gave harsh pants, pushed, and pushed, as contraction after contraction left her shuddering and weak-kneed. Please, oh gods, oh please… Her pelvis strained and ached, and she was almost afraid to move from her position. Her hips shuddered as the egg inched down the faintest fraction of an inch. It was extremely low on her pelvis, and she pushed down as much as her strength would allow, till her face was red, veins rising on her forehead.

But the last contraction ended, and she hadn’t made meaningful progress. Sana stared down at the mound for a moment, absurdly low on her tight, throbbing body. With a vicious jerk, the egg bounced back up on her pelvis, causing her to yelp and fall on her ass. She groaned and carefully reclined back, allowing her body to be pinned against the cool ceramic.

She felt utterly drained. She could try again but she doubted it would be any more productive. And by the way her body ached, her belly throbbing angrily, and her heart racing, feeling as though it would burst, she had doubts as to whether she would survive another attempt.

She sniffed and swiped at the angry tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. This had been her only solution, and it had failed. She was suddenly bereft of her inherent, science-minded inspiration. All that was left was hopelessness. She didn’t know what she was going to do or how she could survive.

For a while she lay there, too tired, dizzy, and numb to attempt to get up. Her mind spun as she swam in a delirious haze of ridiculous ideas and scenarios. She didn’t know how long she remained there.

Suddenly strong arms were lifting her. She felt the chilly air in the corridor cooling her skin, followed by the mechanical hiss of a door being opened, before she was being gently lowered to a familiar bed. Her bed. With a tremendous amount of effort, Sana lifted her eyelids.

A choked whimper tore through her throat. “This is your fault, dammit!”

Eric was leaning on the wall, his arms crossed, and his face uncharacteristically impassive. It was such a startling change from his norm, she didn’t know what to make of it. He remained like that for a while, simply appraising her, as she panted angrily, chest flushed, heaving, and sweaty. Her nipples continued their persistent drops of milk, and her belly sat heavily against her, feeling even more overwhelming than before.

Finally, Eric pushed himself off the wall and turned to the door. “So?” he said as he departed.

Sana stared after him, one of her hands sliding down to cup her navel. She didn’t know what to make of his sudden solemnness yet she didn’t think she wanted to.

-

As the days passed, the other scientists didn’t bother with restraints anymore. Like Sana, they knew that she was trapped in her own body, and her physicality was decreasing every day as she grew. Perhaps they found entertainment in her struggling about the ship, trying to keep up with her ordinary duties and maintain an air of authority despite her ludicrous burden. If she surrendered her job, she would be at odds with her Integalactic overseers who had authorized the expedition, and Sana didn’t need any additional problems. Her colleagues were sufficient as it was.

So she grew increasingly large, uncomfortable, and careful. The bigger the egg grew, the more ungainly she became, the less balanced she was, and the more fragile the egg seemed to her. In the few moments that she didn’t keep her mind busy, it revisted several of her earlier anxieties. What if the egg cracked inside of her? How would the spider be born? Would it tear right out of her skin? Or would it hatch then linger, like poison, writhing under her flesh, until her body could no longer take the force and pressure, the trauma to her surrounding organs, or the toxicity of the unfamiliar body wobbling inside her straining skin. The thought was horrifiying. In fact, any scenario she imagined promised her a slow and grotesque demise.

She was carrying a ticking time bomb. Yet she continued to wobble about, breathlessly pretending to be absorbed in the tedium of studies and paperwork. One afternoon she stiffened as someone placed their hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at John.

“You’re due for a exam,” he said.

He was being more polite about it than he had the last time, not just hauling her up and tying her down to an uncomfortable table. She wondered if it was because he could see how defeated she was. Or maybe it was that she was going to die soon. Whatever it was, she was allowed an iota of dignity.

Grimacing, she obediently pushed her chair back and planted her hands flat on her desk. Ignoring John’s offered arm, she took a deep breath, steeled herself, then heaved herself up with an audible groan, her back pinching, belly leaving her teetering slightly as it waved and she gripped it, struggling for balance the best she could.

She looked as though she was overdue with quadruplets, only heavier, much heavier, her belly so large and round it outspanned her waist and stood outlandishly out from her body like a separate entity. If her chances of birthing several days ago had been small back then, it was infinitesimal now.

“Off we go,” she said with a facetious smile, her words dripping venom.

John maintained his robotic aloofness. He again offered a hand. Sana ignored it as she carefully trudged forward.

A trip that should have taken several seconds somehow took ten minutes, Sana’s body pouring sweat by the time she finally pushed her way into the exam room. She looked up and sneered at the sight of Eric waiting inside for her.

“I’ll take it from here, boss,” said Eric, not taking his eyes off Sana.

John crossed his arms and leaned back on the wall. “I’d prefer to watch.”

Eric released an amused huff. “Whatever does it for you.” He nodded to Sana, gesturing to the bed. Sana hesitated, but knew she had no choice but to follow his directives. She waddled over and lowered herself, taking several moments to catch her breath before she was able to shift into a reclined position.

The exam was as horrible as she had expected. Eric continuously pressed the stethoscope into her tender breasts, as though it would serve any purpose other than to infuriate her. The mounds had rapidly swelled from DDs to E-cups, and continued to drip persistently against the shelf of her gut. After he was done with the stethoscope, Eric did a liberal breast exam as John stood by and watched in complete apathy. Even amusement or arousal would have been preferable to John’s complete indifference towards the blatant violation. If possible, Sana resented him more than Eric.

Finally, Eric turned his focus to her belly, with decidedly less enthusiasm. He pressed into it with his fingers, examining the egg’s hard surface beneath her flesh. She groaned and squirmed, wishing he would stop. She felt so heavy and tight, she feared she would burst right open. The egg felt overbearing, warm, and impatient somehow. She knew it could hatch at any time.

“Ohhhh…” Sana groaned as her stomach visibly tensed. Her back arched by instinct, but she clutched at what she could of her gut, holding it tightly against her as it trembled in a way that made her skin prickle and thighs twitch. It lasted for several seconds before thankfully ceasing. She was left panting, red, and squirming back as much as she could. “S-Stop…” she pleaded. “You—you’re antagonizing it,” she gasped. She didn’t want to fight Eric and exacerbate whatever it was happening inside her. Instead, she was left shamelessly pleading with the man.

John finally seemed intrigued. Eric, irked.

“Exam’s over,” Eric relented flatly. He snapped his gloves off.

Sana laid there continuing to catch her breath she heavy weight of the egg pinned her back. She watched it heave up and down as though it was breathing independently. She ran her hands up and down her tight flanks and flushed navel.

“Mike and Ed developed a product that you might find useful,” Eric said, going to a drawer to pull a jar out. He returned to Sana, presenting it to her. “This cream will soften your skin and should help take pressure off the egg shell. It will allow you to circumvent the limited capacity of your body so that we can see how much farther the egg will grow inside you.” He wore a sour expression. “Would you like for me to apply some?”

Sana hesitated. “Yes,” she said, because despite the fact that Eric made her skin crawl, he seemed put off with her belly to a point bordering on displeasure, and any amount that she could annoy him was worthwhile in her limited state.

Eric replaced his gloves.

“Careful,” she hissed as his cool hands contacted her skin. As if to taunt her, he pressed into her flesh more, but the sticky oil on his hands miraculously did serve the purpose it was intended for, her flesh softening, developing increasing resistance the more he pressed and kneaded his fingers into her.

Frequently, his fingers would somehow brush her breasts. Her thighs quivered when he managed to snag her nipples tauntingly, as though that was anywhere near where he was supposed to be working.

The door opened and closed. Sana looked up to see that John had left. It seemed he had lost interest in her exam.

“Plutonians,” Eric remarked.

Sana looked down at her belly. The goo had fully absorbed. “Alright, show’s over,” she hissed, trying to shove Eric’s hands off her, but he caught her wrists. “Eric…” she warned, glaring up at him.

Eric simply moved her hands to her sides, and leaned over her, practically leering. “You know, I did care about you. At a point,” he said. And then he swooped down to her nipple.

“Fuuu…fucker,” Sana hissed, as her unattended nipple responsively squirted thick milk into the air. Her hips jerked painfully beneath the weight forcing them down. Between her arousal and discomfort, the former won out, and she found herself gripping Eric’s hair, squishing him tightly against her needy breast.

He fed indulgently, moaning obscenely, until he pulled back to reveal milk dripping down chin. “Uhh…” Sana groaned. Her belly shuddered, and she weakly clutched at it. “Oh god,” she groaned, watching her navel pulse.

Eric looked amused. “Xirosyline.”

“What,” said Sana blankly, still stupid from orgasm.

“Xirosyline,” he repeated, and it took a moment for her to register it to be the name of a drug. “Look into it.” Eric licked his lips, turned, and left her there, alone in the exam room.