Half Alien, Part 4

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Summary: At the age of 18, while suffering from butt-expansion and unending arousal, Ryan discovers that he is half-alien and he has gone into heat. Ryan is resistant to the concept for a while, but finally resorts to getting laid. Unfortunately for Ryan, this results in a perpetually-growing pregnancy that cannot be birthed until his supply of offspring is “replenished” by more mating. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, egg laying.

Previous Chapter

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Ryan backed himself into the wall, not certain what was wrong with him. But the sight of Jack, and at such a close proximity, filled Ryan’s abdomen with strange sensations of movement. Was this it? Labor? Ryan pushed himself off the wall and tried to waddle away, but one of the meatheads grabbed his shoulder and promptly shoved him back into place.

Ryan slowly looked up, and found himself eye to eye with Jack. Ryan felt beads of sweat forming on his temples, chest, and stomach.

“What do we have here?” Jack sneered, Ryan’s bobbing abdomen lightly brushing against his flat one. With one of his large hands still holding Ryan in place, Jack slipped his other hand downwards, to his shirt, which was tightly hugging his swollen stomach. With his thumb and pointer finger, Jack took the hem, and slowly drew it up. His eyes remained on Ryan’s face for a while, before they finally darted downwards.

Jack stepped back with a gasp, the other football players wearing similarly horrified expressions.

“What a freak,” one of them said.

Another one snickered. “Maybe it’s a medical issue?” he said, without sympathy.

Jack just seemed shocked. He seemed to recollect himself, and cornered Ryan again. The proximity made the smaller teen tremble.

By some strange impulse, Jack reached down and laid his hand on the swollen mass, cupping it.

“P-please,” Ryan groaned, though he wasn’t certain what he was begging for. Certainly to be left alone? He grunted out, and his belly seemed to tense. “Nrrrgghhh…” The tension peaked in his golfball-sized belly button, which strangely, began to swell more. It ached and pulsed, and Ryan resisted the urge to clutch it.

“What the hell?” Jack marveled at it.

It was definitely throbbing—and visibly. Ryan released a whimper as a stinging pain shot through his navel, when suddenly it began to…drip. A pale goo pushed out of the dimpled skin, and splattered to the floor in fat droplets. “Ohhhh…” Ryan groaned, clutching at either side of his plump mound.

The meatheads were so stunned, they simply stared at Ryan, their jaws hanging slack. Ryan took the opportunity to tug his shirt down, as he ignored how tight it felt, and the growing patch of moisture forming over his navel. He then waddled off, gasping and sweaty. He slipped out of the classroom before the meatheads could react.

Ryan felt bizarre. His chest was tingling. His belly button was still producing the goo. He wondered if he was—rupturing—or something. He had certainly gotten fat, and in a short amount of time—perhaps beyond his body’s capacity? Ryan didn’t want to think about it. Frankly, he was terrified.

He tugged a second T-shirt out of his locker and pulled it over himself. As with the first one, it was large and long, but still tightly hugged against his belly, revealing his at-term-looking mound, and freakishly swollen belly button—it resembled a tangerine by then.

Ryan left school early, under the claim that he was feeling ill. His stomach continued to clench with tension and those odd squirming sensations. His navel throbbed continuously.

His parents were still at work, for which Ryan was grateful. He curled up in bed, and tried to get his body to relax. He rubbed his hand over his swollen abdomen, despite how stifled and sweaty it felt beneath his clothes. He was almost afraid to unwrap it, or…interact with it again. Why had his body reacted to aggressively to Jack’s presence? Ryan didn’t want to think about it. Instead he took long breaths, hoping to get his pulse to even out. Every so often, images of Jack returned to his mind, unbidden, and Ryan was helpless but to shift, groan, and try to will away his erection.

Ryan awoke a few hours later to the sound of his parents talking in the kitchen. Based on the darkness outside his window, he could tell that it was early evening.

He blinked the blurriness from his vision, feeling slightly surprised that he had not gone into labor after the day’s events. Ryan sat up with a slight groan, allowing his belly to shift in his lap. He was still amazed by how plump and fat it was, heaving gently where it was nestled against his thighs. It truly did resemble a beer gut, albeit, one that was inordinately massive. Ryan shifted again, but groaned out when his passengers settled heavily on his sex organs. He shuddered and came right there, against the underside of his mass.

Taking several gasping breaths, Ryan wiped some sweat from his forehead. He eased himself to the edge of the bed, carefully, uncomfortably aware that he was already hardening again. He tried his best not to think of Jack, but the football player’s image just seemed to assault him in an endless montage of stares, smirks, and nudity. Somehow he managed to get off the bed and clean himself up. As he passed his full-length mirror, he paused to stare at how massive his backside was getting. Just like before.

Withholding a groan, Ryan finished changing. He clutched at the underside of his fat, protruding, lemon-shaped belly, and waddled out of his bedroom, aware of how flushed he must have looked.

At seeing him, Ryan’s parents paused mid-conversation. They gave him supportive smiles, though something in them didn’t seem to be authentic.

“You were talking about me?” Ryan guessed, easing himself down in a chair. He grimaced as pressure and soreness shot into his tender navel. To his relief, it had stopped dripping by then. He suspected discussion of the matter would have brought him to a whole new level of embarrassment.

“Yes son, it’s just…” Clark trailed off. “Well, how are you feeling?”

Beth looked to Ryan’s swollen navel. “Oh! Have you seen your mate today?” he said encouragingly.

Ryan scowled. “Mate?” he said with distaste.

“The father,” said Beth.

Ryan was slightly affronted that his mother’s phrasing would imply that he was a ‘mother.’ He shifted uncomfortably on his plump posterior. “We’re not really…” Ryan did not want to talk about his sex life with his parents. “What do you mean?” He looked at his navel self-consciously.

“Your body has begun to prepare.”

“…what?” Ryan repeated blankly. He tilted his head, feeling exhausted.

“Ryan, we’ve been meaning to talk to you,” said Clark. “When are you planning to give birth? It’s not healthy to be carrying for so long.”

Ryan was lost.

“Certainly you’ve gone into your second heat by now?” said Beth.

Ryan reddened. “Heat?” he croaked.

“Your body is preparing to replenish your offspring prior to labor. Your mate must fertilize your womb again so that you can give birth.”

“Fertilize?” The word fell out of Ryan’s mouth.

“Oh yes. You cannot give birth until you do.” Beth nodded.

Ryan swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat. “I have to stay pregnant?”

“Only for the duration of fertility,” said Clark informatively.

Panic was finally beginning to set in. “How long is that?” said Ryan as calmly as he could.

“Usually three years. Though some men have stayed fertile as long as six.”

Ryan’s face drained of color. He felt a fresh sheen of sweat begin to push out of his pores. He tugged at his shirt, trying to distract himself from this utter—insanity. He refused to do this again. To get fatter and fatter, repetitively.

He noticed that he was clutching at his mound, tightly, desperately. His parents were giving him wary looks.

“I’m…um…I’m going to lie down,” Ryan said.

With some difficulty, he heaved himself and his massive lemon-shaped mound up from his seat, gripping at the underside, so that his protruding navel pointed upward slightly. He winced at the soreness that peaked there, before waddling off to his room, easing himself to his mattress, his thoughts alternating between Jack and his long-term fertility.

-

Over the next several days, Ryan grew and grew, the elliptical shape of his mound giving way to a more round, still-fat, orb. When he eased himself down for meals, a crease now formed in the center, two rolls of fat warring for space. But as Ryan ate and ate, compulsive and panicked, this imperfection seemed to naturally correct itself. The ridge stretched out as he grew fuller and rounder, and so heavy, he could hardly sleep.

His parents cast him worried looks on a regular basis. They would make gentle inquiries about Ryan’s progress in resolving things with his “mate.”

For some reason, they just didn’t seem to get it. He took to glaring, or just ignoring them. He refused to get laid again, especially if it meant that he would have to endure another pregnancy.

His backside was truly impressive, more massive than ever before. Ryan would rub it tenderly. If Jack were to see it, Ryan wasn’t sure if he would be disgusted or intrigued. Ryan had stopped going to school by that point, his back too sore, his navel aching, and he was hardly able to stand for more than a few minutes at a time.

“We could call him for you?” said Beth at breakfast one morning, looking somewhat desperate.

Ryan sent her a dirty look. He did not want a pity-fuck from Jack.

“Son, I’m not sure you understand the consequences,” Clark pleaded.

Ryan simply ignored him. He picked at his plate with his fork, because as hungry as he was, he simply felt too full to keep anything down. He was breathing thinly, because his pregnancy was pressing on his lungs. He was beginning to look as though he had swallowed a beach ball, but he would never admit how terrified he felt. He hesitated, and reached down for another bit of eggs, when his body stiffened, and his fork clattered against his dish.

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