Half Alien, Part 3

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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

-

Attending school was horrifying, and rather uncomfortable, Ryan wearing baggy shirts and awkwardly hunching down to hide the weird protrusion of his stomach.

Never the less, people seemed to notice. Ryan couldn’t get a pass in gym class, as he couldn’t exactly explain his condition—he didn’t fully understand it himself—so he simply moved as slowly as possible to avoid injury. It seemed imminent given the bizarre state that his stomach was in. It was like a small finger was pressing out from inside of him, pushing his skin three inches forward. It was so bizarre.

I can’t believe this shit, Ryan thought, as he felt people staring. His back felt sore, not from the protrusion, but solely from the fact that he had been hunching all day. And to think that he was—pregnant. The sheer thought made him nauseous. Of course, that could have been more morning sickness. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Ryan’s appetite had certainly surged since the appearance of the protrusion. He could settle for no less than two meals during lunch period. He was too embarrassed to indulge in more than that, so when he got home, he was quick to stuff his face with whatever leftovers were in the fridge. His parents would merely laugh him off, like all this was normal.

That evening, Ryan found himself bowed down to the toilet, gagging up more of that weird purple vomit. He felt wretched—absolutely miserable. His eyes widened when he felt a sudden tingling in his stomach that made his face redden. He cupped the peak of his stomach, fearing that it would push out yet more, but instead, the pressure seemed to go to its sides.

“Mmmgghh…” Ryan groaned, as he felt his abdomen change slightly. He looked down to see that the protrusion had taken on somewhat more of an elliptical shape than a sharp peak. Hunched there, he breathed heavily. He couldn’t deny that it was slightly more comfortable, the pressure less focused at one spot.

After a while, Ryan climbed up the bathroom counter and examined himself in the mirror. He looked at the permanent flush of his cheeks. He felt lethargic still, and strangely…warm. He pulled back his hair to look at his bright eyes. His skin had a thin sheen of sweat, but even without it, he was practically glowing.

Brushing these thoughts aside, Ryan released a huff and left the room. He made sure to avoid his parents—they would be too pleased with his latest development—and went to his bedroom, where he laid down on his back in the center of his bed. He drew up his shirt to stare at the detestable—now slightly smoother—protrusion of his abdomen. His apparent womb.

Ryan shifted somewhat, but made sure not to turn onto his stomach. He was still so uncomfortable. And—he blushed—his nipples felt sore. In fact, he could see them through his shirt material. They looked puffy, swollen slightly. Ryan released a groan of disgust and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t long before his stomach grumbled. Ryan cupped the odd mass with his hands. Unable to stand the stomach pains, Ryan carefully sat up, jerking his shirt down as he did. When he crept to the kitchen, he was disappointed to see that both his mother and father were present.

“Ryan, dear,” said Beth. “We made you a snack.”

It seemed they had been expecting him. Ryan parked himself in a chair at the head of the table as his mother uncovered a massive serving bowl she only usually brought out for Thanksgiving. It was full to the brim with a horrifying combination of his favorite things. There was macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, bacon, gooey melted cheese, gravy, pasta, sausages, ground beef, garlic knots, and a variety of other things that simply didn’t belong combined together in a massive bowl.

Ryan looked at his mother in disgust. “Why on earth—” But his stomach grumbled again, and he hardly restrained himself from gripping it in pain.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged. “It will help with the discomfort. Round you out a bit.”

Ryan didn’t know what exactly she meant by that, but with a shaking hand, he lifted his spoon.

Before he knew it, it was digging into the bowl desperately and greedily, stuffing copious amounts of the foul mixture into his mouth. He must have been there for an hour, with no break, his parents gazing at him contently as he gulped gob after gob of the concoction down. Every so often, he would pause and take some slurps of a milkshake his father had set beside him. With every glass he finished, his father refilled it from a pitcher sitting on the table.

By the time Ryan was done eating, he felt stuffed, but strangely…content. He leaned back in his seat breathing heavily, cupping the protrusion, not sure when it had gotten even…softer. It had become even more elliptical, taking on some fat to bulk up underneath it, beginning to resemble a somewhat pointed…belly. Ryan stared down at himself in shock.

“Such a hungry mommy,” Beth giggled, as he lifted Ryan’s dishes.

Ryan could hardly stand their amused looks. He quickly got up and returned to his room.

Ryan paced. He hated the way the mound bobbed slightly when he moved. This was abnormal. Maybe he should have seen a doctor. Then again, he might have been too much of a freak. Whose body changed this rapidly? It would certainly cause issues for him if it became public.

“Umph,” Ryan grunted, freezing up as he felt the apex of his mound shift, and suddenly his belly button was sticking out. He lifted his shirt again over his small belly, and glided his finger over his navel, which made him shudder. His belly button looked unusually large, about the size of a grape, and quite visible against the material of his stretched shirt. What the fuck! He thought irritably. Why couldn’t his body just calm the fuck down for a second?

Half expecting himself to have sprouted a unicorn-horn by morning, Ryan climbed back into bed.

-

The more he ate the more he grew.

And yet, the more…comfortable he felt.

Eating helped with the awkwardness of the pointed shape. And conveniently enough, Ryan found himself helplessly stuffing his face on a near-constant basis. His stomach grew fatter, more—insulated, he supposed. It softened and began to look more natural, and in consequence, he began to look quite fat. The womb seemed to take on more bulk every day, growing wider, less pointed and bizarre. Ryan’s parents provided himself with ridiculous culinary creations on a constant basis, and Ryan found himself munching at every hour of every day.

His parents said that the more he ate, the more his…eggs grew, apparently. Beth and Clark tried to gradually ease him into more details regarding his condition, so to avoid him getting too upset. On one such occasion, Ryan reddened, and dropped a box of donuts he had been working his way through. He shuddered and cupped his belly as an uncomfortable, ticklish wave ran through it. “Ohhhh…” he groaned as his belly button bulged, swelling to the size of a golf ball. He stared.

There was a flash of light. Ryan looked up in horror to see that his father was holding a camera. “We got it!”

“Oh Ryan, you’re really rounding out. You’re getting so cute!” Beth cooed.

Clark chuckled. “How many eggs do you think he’s carrying, dear?”

“It looks like a full litter.”

The remainder of Ryan’s patience for his parents’ company quickly dissolved. He got up to his feet, with some awkwardness, glared, and left the room. He absently supported his lower belly as it bobbed gently. To his discomfort, he realized that he had begun to support it, quite regularly. Eggs, Ryan thought numbly. A few months ago, his biggest concern had been with getting a date to prom.

Ryan tried to look on the bright side. At least he wasn’t carrying a live baby. Eggs, he could handle. Eggs were barely even alive.

But what did his mother mean by a full litter? Exactly how many were on there? When would they hatch? Who would take care of them? These worries circled his head, and Ryan sat down as he began to feel dizzy.

As the days passed, he was progressively getting rounder. His abdomen was beginning to resemble a volleyball in size, but the lemon in shape, the center still pushing out quite oddly, topped off by his round belly button. Supposedly this was to be expected, and normal. His parents were as complimentary as ever. But at school, Ryan could hardly stand the stares. Students pointed at him, and blatantly gaped. There was no hiding his size whatsoever. Were it not for the unusual shape of his mass, he would have looked almost nine months pregnant.

Ryan’s abdomen certainly wasn’t as firm as a normal pregnant belly should have been. It bobbed uncomfortably, and the apex could be shifted to point upwards or downwards, based on his position. He could feel the whole womb changing angles at times. He sort of wished he had some sort of supportive device, though he was too embarrassed to inquire with his parents about one.

Fatter his belly grew. The rest of Ryan’s body remained slim as ever, except for his bottom, which might have been…swelling again. This made Ryan uneasy. Was his body getting ready for the birth?

Ryan also noticed that the sensitivity of his nipples had gotten only worse, and he seemed to be developing anthills on his chest. He hoped that with everything he had gone through, he didn’t develop in that regard. He had already suffered quite sufficiently. And he was still wracked with nerves about the birth, which had to be soon. Ryan was so anxious, he couldn’t even bring himself to ask his parents about it.

Ryan’s parents, at least, were good about providing him with larger shirts every week to accommodate his growing mass. They were tight, but at least they covered him up even at the rate he was ballooning.

The rest of the world, however, was not as prepared as Ryan’s parents were. At school, Ryan could no longer fit behind desks, and instead seated himself in the back, at the spare table reserved for class observers.

He could hardly focus during lessons, conflicted between fear of labor, and just wanting to get this whole thing over with. He often daydreamed about reverting to his normal routine and normal physique. He fantasized about going back to being a skinny teenager.

So immersed was Ryan in his thoughts, he missed the point when class ended. He blinked around the empty room for a moment, before struggling to unwedge his mass from beneath the table.

Once he had pushed his chair back, Ryan clutched at the underside of his belly—his navel was still quite sensitive—and with some struggle, he managed to heave himself up to his feet. He gasped for breath for several moments, clutching both sides of his plump, elliptical-shaped mound. He grimaced as the warning bell rang. He had one minute to get to his next class.

Just as Ryan breathed in, and took a step forward, the classroom door flung open, and the group of the teens that Ryan had been meticulously avoiding for the past three months strolled inside.

They stopped to stare, and Ryan looked away in mortification.

He was suddenly face to face with the meatheads.