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Expedition IV

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Expedition on DeviantArt

Summary: Two scientists and a tracker search the rainforest for their expanding colleague. Contains: Male & Female: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, butt expansion, egg laying, plant creatures, plant characteristics.

Previous Chapter

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Terry continued to force his way through the forest. He was so heavy, his back was aching, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on.

He imagined he looked overdue with triplets, or quads. F-cup breasts throbbed on his chest. His nipples stiffened and burned, and visibly tented against his tight shirt, looking the size of large grapes.

He had to keep moving. Camp couldn’t be much farther. He hoped.

Refusing to even contemplate what he would do if he was lost, Terry continued to move through the forest, now more of a stagger than a walk. Though the trees had thinned somewhat, he found that he had to constantly change course and navigate his way around clusters of trees that his large belly simply could not negotiate.

“Nrrggghhh…” he groaned, as his nipples burned worse than before. He looked down as the last buttons of his expedition jacket tore apart. His belly pushed through eagerly, round, and massive, and throbbing. The tank top he had on had slid up to fully eject the mound, rendered little more than a belly shirt. But it was sliding farther. Terry grunted as the cotton rubbed on his sensitive nipples. His plump breasts quavered, and the white material dampened with twin purple spots of moisture.

“Mmmgghhhh…ohhhh…” Terry hunched somewhat, hardly able to tolerate the heated burning of his chest. His swollen nipples distended yet farther, his tank top beginning to drip. Nectar. Terry clutched his lower belly, if just to keep his hands from reaching up and cupping his breasts. His cheeks burned. He didn’t think he could make it much farther. But he tried.

Step by step, Terry forced his mass along. His breasts quavered uncomfortably with every step he took. They were still swelling, the hem of his tank top barely offering coverage to his nipples by then. And his belly remained a massive, heavy presence, rocking uncomfortably as it was hauled forward. There was occasionally an unpleasant squirming within which Terry did his best to ignore. His belly seemed to bob forward with every step he took, making him feel as though he would topple, or as though it would just tear away from him. It was wider than the rest of his body. It was a wonder how he was still able to carry it.

Occasionally Terry would rub his ass, which was…plumpening. There was a growing tension, that was frightening, but also somehow—arousing. He felt as though something was getting ready to pop right out of him. To add to his mortification, he was almost painfully erect. And from viewing Bradley, he knew what was to come next.

Terry reached down and preemptively undid his belt, with some struggle. He didn’t want to suffer a blockage the way Bradley had. God only knew what had happened to the other man. Terry tried not to think about it as he leaned back against a tree. He rubbed his hands up and down his flushed, sweaty mass. It was almost time. He could sense it. God, he was massive. Oddly, he felt none of the maternal regard towards his eggs that his colleagues seemed to have been experiencing. He was completely lucid. Still, this unnerved him a bit. Would he end up stuck in the forest, keenly aware, and perpetually suffering?

Terry continued to rub the sides of his belly, breathing in long puffs, in and out. His mass was bigger than a beach ball by then, heaving forebodingly against him. Camp wasn’t another mile away, but he feared if he moved, the eggs would just start—coming out.

Terry squeezed his eyes shut, resentful as tears started rolling down his cheeks. He stiffened slightly as the back of his pants began to tear, giving way to a plump pillowy ass cheeks, his briefs uncomfortably digging into a crack.

A bit fearful of releasing his grip on his belly, Terry hesitated, and used on hand to jam his briefs down. He took a gasp as his ass cheeks quavered. His belly seemed to abruptly drop, hard, against his pelvis, and his cock released against the underside of his mass.

Terry gave a strangled cry, and nearly toppled over from the momentum of the combined discomfort and pleasure tearing through his body. “No, no, no…” he resisted pathetically, still clutching the underside of his belly with one hand, and his ass with the other. His tank top had slid all the way up, and his nipples were dripping freely as both globes pulsed.

Now vines were slithering about his ankles. Terry breathed in thin gasps, unaware of whether it was labor or sheer panic.

Suddenly there were shrill voices and banging drums. Terry was certain he was imagining it until he saw the torchlight intrude on the darkness, the vines on his ankles drawing back and disappearing as the wan light grew.

Terry stared in shock as nude bodies approached, skin bronzed from sunlight, and faces painted with clay. He cried out in protest as several hands took hold of his shoulders, and began to usher him forward. He maintained a firm grip on his bottom, his face flushed a bright red.

“They’re—god—they’re coming!” he choked out, oblivious of how the newcomers managed to support him, as his legs had nearly given out. All of his focus was now on keeping the things inside of him. It was illogical, but he was terrified.

The native tribe gave soothing murmurs in an unknown language as they pulled him along into a nearby clearing. Soon Terry was laid, supine, on a soft bed of leaves. He grunted and whimpered as his belly swelled visibly.

Fingers stroked along his mass—they were painting it with clay! Another hand was on his forehead, drawing back his messy hair. Yet other hands were drawing his knees up, gently, and Terry couldn’t help it. He pushed.

It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable. He felt the first egg crown. His belly heaved and heaved as one egg after the next slowly pushed out of his body. They were perfectly round, and resembled softballs in size.

As Terry grunted, and pushed, he soon became aware of the wide, staring eyes that surrounded him. There must have been dozens of them tribal people, and Terry quickly became embarrassed that they were all present, to witness his mortifying dilemma and his obvious incompetence while navigating the forest.

The weight on his torso was overpowering, and when Terry thought he had the energy, he began to get up, still in the process of birthing. Gentle hands tried to keep him in position, but Terry ignored them. Whimpering somewhat, with arduous effort, he managed to get into a squatting position. He gave a shuddering breath as his belly quaked, and he began to birth more rapidly. This was better, he supposed. Albeit still quite humiliating, the birthing was certainly easier. He wobbled, and was immediately supported by hands on his shoulders. Terry gave a jerky nod in a way that he hoped expressed gratitude.

The eggs were slowly growing. He saw one, now resembling a cantaloupe, cradled in a woman’s arms. To Terry’s horror, his saviors were not destroying the eggs, but instead gazing at them reverently. As the woman presented him with the egg, Terry turned away and recoiled from her. He unintentionally sobbed, and probably would have attempted to run, had the hands on his shoulders not held him firmly. Still, he shuddered. Frowning, the woman withdrew.

“Ngghhhhh…” Terry groaned as another egg pushed free of his sore bottom. The births were getting more difficulty. He cradled his belly, which was smaller, and looked as though he was eight months pregnant. His tank top was still jerked up over the massive globes of his breasts, his nipples now releasing spurts of liquid every time he pushed an egg free of him. Terry stared down at his body with wet eyes and shame. “Ohhhh…ahhhh!” He clenched his teeth, and pushed out a particularly large egg. He panted and mopped at his sweaty face with his hand. It was almost over. He just had to get through this.

There were so many eggs, now practically surrounding him. How could one body possibly produce so much life?

Things were winding down. Terry pushed and grunted. This might have been the last one. Absently cupping his mound, Terry bore down as hard as he could. He just had to get it out. Had to get this over with.
Now some of the eggs were the size of basketballs. One was trembling. Terry was so alarmed, his muscles faltered, and his progress was lost. The large, crowing egg inside him, slid back in, with a strange popping sensation, that made him gasp as his belly heaved, and his dick became erect.

“I—I can’t do this,” he stammered out, tearing away from the gentle hands of the natives.

He hurried off, sweat-drenched, and exhausted. He could hear the voices of the tribal people calling after him in their language, but he ignored them, and ran off through the woods. He nearly fell over, and impatiently tugged his torn pants up from his ankles. It didn’t offer much coverage, but it would have to suffice.

His sore breasts slapped together, and seeped profusely as he waddled through the forest. His belly was significantly smaller than it had been before, though it still looked as though he was five months pregnant, as it still hosted the one, growing egg, that he had been unable to birth.

Terry gasped for breath as he burst out of the trees, and was so relieved to find camp, he began to cry again. He hurried into the large tent, grabbed a radio off a portable table, then sunk to the ground beside it.

“This is Terry Davis,” he breathed into the receiver. “Our mission was a failure. I need an emergency airlift.” He released the button, and waited, breathing.

The radio buzzed. “What is the status of the others?” a voice asked. “Is anyone in immediate need of medical attention?”

Terry trembled in guilt and relief. He lifted the radio back to his lips. “I’m not in need of medical attention.” Not yet.” He uneasily glanced down to his belly, which looked somewhat larger than when he had left the tribe, but perhaps, he hoped, he was imagining it.

Terry stared off through the opening in the tent, where he could see the darkness of the trees, illuminated by the moonlight outside. “The others. They’re dead.”

There was another short pause.

“Airlift ordered. Estimated arrival at 0700.”

Terry dropped the radio and lowered himself to his back. He lethargically folded his arm over his eyes, and vowed never to return to the forest.

The End


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