Aliens, Part 6

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Summary: Cona is abducted by aliens. Contains: Belly expansion, breast expansion, alien pregnancy, and more.

Previous Chapter

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As the days passed, Cona was drawn into recurring arguments with her family. She was getting bigger. They insisted that she needed to go to the hospital. Cona was fervid in her protestations. She didn’t want to be seen in public, or by anyone at all. What if she was taken again?

The contractions continued, more uncomfortable than painful. When she was standing, she would have to grip onto the nearest fixed object, whether it be her brother or a wall. She was absolutely massive, tight, breathless, and hauling what seemed like a boulder around on her torso. It scraped against doorframes now, threatening to outgrow them soon. It kept Cona sprawled in bed most of each day, flushed, sweating, and fearful of what was to come.

One evening, her father helped her to her bedroom, and Cona closed the door to get undressed. Just as she did, a bright white light lit up her window, rendering her nearly blind when her eyes darted to it. So bright and piercing was the light, it illuminated her whole bedroom until she jerked her curtains closed. And yet she could still see the box of light where the curtains framed the glowing edges of the glass.

Cona eased herself down onto her bed, where she curled up, breathing, trembling, and waiting, but not daring to sleep. She laid there hours, her shaking growing increasingly violent as night turned into early morning, and the beaming light endured.

She knew better than to seek shelter with her family. She would not get them involved in this mess. Instead she lay there in anticipation, resigned to her fate, to being abducted again, until somehow, her eyelids grew heavy, and she fell back asleep.

She awoke up with a gasp, and was shocked that she was still in bed. Fleetingly, she wondered if it had all been a dream, but—no. Something had occurred. Something was…different. Cona shifted somewhat, feeling less uncomfortable than usual, yet awkward in new ways. She noticed she was propped up against her pillows, not curled in the position she had fallen asleep in. She fidgeted beneath the heavy weight against her torso…and a potent tingling in her loins. Cona hesitated, then pulled back her sheets.

Though she could no longer feel her loins, Cona felt around her panties. She quivered as she observed that her labia was spread open, something protruding out from it, sort of crowning. The seal was gone. Was she birthing an egg?

No. This wasn’t an egg. It was too distinct. She felt around the soft mass, a spasm running through her body. Cona groaned weakly, and continued to feel. She was reminded vaguely of an…an insect. Plump and smooth, with ridges along it. It was huge. About the size of a lemon. And it was attached to her. But it didn’t seem to be blocking her. It was serving a different purpose.

It was warm and throbbing, almost alive beneath her fingertips. She was reminded of a particular fat grub, and shuddered.

Cona wrapped her hand around it, tugging experimentally. She yelped as electricity shot up her groan and hit her stomach, causing her pelvis to shudder violently, even beneath her great weight. Through the combined pain and pleasure, her belly contracted visibly. Cona felt her loins tighten, and the sensation of pushing, before the insect seemed to bloat beneath her fingers.

Cona quickly retracted her hand, her mouth falling open. It felt as though she had birthed an egg—and the insect had consumed it!

She fidgeted uneasily, taking care not to squeeze the insect between her thighs. Had it consumed the egg, or was it simply holding it. That seemed the likelier conclusion, especially given that her former captors wanted their offspring alive.

Unwilling to try to process the ramifications of this new development, Cona shifted carefully to the edge of the bed. She rocked several times before heaving herself up, using the arm grips her father had attached to the wall to give herself some leverage.

Cona wobbled her way to the kitchen, her gait even more awkward than usual. She eased herself into a chair, trying not to put pressure on the insect, but it seemed to squish easily beneath her, with no sigh of stress. It pulsed against her, gently, her loins throbbing. Cona had still yet to determine whether the attachment was a good or a bad thing, but it left Cona hot, red, and fidgety.

“How are you, dear?” said her mother, surveying her warily as she seemed to every morning. Her eyes darted to Cona’s massive belly, then up again, as though she was fearful it might burst at any moment.

Cona thought for a moment. “Not too bad.” It was true. She was not as tight as usual, and it almost felt as though some of the pressure in her belly had decreased. Because of the bug? Cona shuddered slightly.

She kept to her room for the rest of the day, opting against telling her family about the appearance of the bug. They were scared to their wits as it was.

And as Cona laid there in bed, exhausted, breathing, she continued to have infrequent contractions, each which resulted in the familiar sensation of pushing, and the insect bloating slightly between her legs, until she could feel it pressing firmly against the insides of her thighs when she wasn’t specifically spreading her legs.

She also noticed that the contractions were increasing in frequency. She would doze off, but awake every so often as a new one shuddered through her belly.

The bug was progressively growing, fattening and lengthening where it protruded from her stretched loins. It was strange and unpleasant, but also a bit relieving. The pressure in her gut progressively eased as the fat bug throbbed, almost contently.

But as the insect grew, so did the sensations it shot through her body. Cona found herself wet and shivering, the bug sleek with her juices when she tentatively cradled it beneath her palm. She couldn’t believe how much it had swollen over the course of just a few hours. It was almost the size of an American football, and squished beneath her thighs once she had managed to heave herself off the bed.

The pressure of her legs on it made her knees almost give way beneath her. Cona reached down and adjusted it, pushing it free of her thighs, beneath her belly, protruding awkwardly in her formfitting dress. As she waddled her way out of the room, she could hardly refrain from reaching down to grip the wobbling mass. She made her way to the kitchen in painstakingly slow movements, and with relief, eased her plump posterior down to her usual seat.

Her family was looking at her, surprise evident on all three of their faces.

“Cona, are you…getting smaller?” said her father, a cautious relief in his eyes.

Cona’s swollen breasts wobbled as she deeply inhaled. “Not…exactly,” she admitted. It seemed more like her weight was redistributing, eggs pushing into the insect. But was the bug really a part of her? No. Not technically. So maybe she was getting smaller. It was hard to say that with certainty, but Cona was tentatively optimistic. In her past experiences, the bugs had always been detached from her, eventually.

With a shaking hand, Cona’s mother began to distribute food to their plates, Cona served several times the amount of even her brother. She worked her way through seconds and thirds keenly, only pausing to grimace whenever her belly contracted, and the insect’s weight grew slightly heavier on her lap. She swore it was nearly to her knees by then!

Cona nearly choked on some potatoes when she felt a wiggling. She laid her hand on the fat grub as it lurched again, causing her face to turn bright red as she spread her thighs as much as she could in the confines of her dress. Her loins seeped liberally as she tried to keep her body’s quaking to a minimum.

“Cona, are you alright?” said her mother in concern.

“Oh…yes…um…” The creature was so fat already. She tried to breathe, even as her swollen breasts bulged heavily from her low neckline, heaving higher, nearly spilling out. She felt her huge nipples hardening, pushing out to massive peaks, looking like they might tear right through the material. The basketball-sized mounds wiggled slightly as Cona fidgeted, and she could feel the thick pudding pushing against her nipples, straining through her pores to seep fat dollops into her shirt.

“Just…just my back,” Cona managed, struggling in her feet. Her family stared speechlessly as she heaved herself up, clutched at her groin, and waddled her way to her room. Once there, Cona practically plopped down onto the bed, groaning, writhing, as the insect heaved again.

She could feel it getting thicker, fatter, as her belly contracted perpetually. One egg after the next was pushed into the twitching insect, Cona gasping and sweating puddles into her mattress.

She spread herself wide as she could as it slowly became bigger than her belly, her thighs quavering, each shift like a shock of electricity. She mumbled indecipherably, rubbing at her abdomen as it shrunk beneath her fingers. She dozed in and out of consciousness, yet still her insides heaved.

She was stunned by morning, when she could easily see the thing—the bug. It was towering over her, and somehow stretched to the size that her belly had been—almost a boulder. It sat on the mattress, shoving her thighs painfully apart. It still resembled a lemon in shape, elliptical, but quite fat in the middle. But it was truly massive, heaving, and lurching frighteningly. Cona was pinned in place, unable to move from the bed. Her eyes darted down to her belly, and she was surprised to see that it had shrunken, looking as though it was a mere six months pregnant.

Cona hardly had the chance to be relieved. Just before she could become panicked by her newfound immobility, there was a bright light outside of her window. Cona’s eyelids fluttered, and she passed out once again.

-

When the insect was gone, Cona felt strangely detached, and somehow…lonely.

She was still quite chubby about the midsection, though she could tell that there were no more eggs inside of her. It was just fat. Her bottom had also remained quite plump, and her hips, almost unusually wide.

Her breasts were massive, and it was almost a shame that she had never utilized their pudding-like contents, as she knew she had probably been meant to.

She still produced the warm, thick pudding that made her nipples strain and bulge almost grotesquely. Particularly when she was aroused and she would hurry off to the nearly bathroom, and endure the mortifyingly slow episode.

She could hardly find a bra that could accommodate the massive mounds on her chest, and so they bobbed freely, still engorged and round, and uncomfortably eye-catching.

She had nightmares sometimes. And often she thought about the other women, who had not escaped, as she had. But Cona tried to keep her focus on her coursework. She had changed to an Astrobiology major.

She remained peacefully oblivious of the cloaked spacecraft hanging high above her town, or the amorphous orange-skinned aliens that had been observing her for weeks, impressed by her unique form, her apparent fertility, and the highly-valued alien sustenance that seeped freely from her breasts.

The End