Slugs II, Part 10 - Female Version

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Summary: Cona is impregnated with a massive, mutated slug. And unfortunately for those around her, the condition proves contagious. Contains: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, bug expansion, unbirthing.

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The mound was round and fat, and made her look as though she was due with quints. But unlike a pregnancy, the ball wasn’t firm but squishy when she felt it. In consequence, it bobbed uncomfortably, and was particularly stressful on her anatomy. Cona found it best to clutch it when she walked about. It certainly necessitated support.

Her swollen mound and stretched blouse bulged out from her black leather jacket, which in turn served little purpose than to cover her arms. Hips sore, Cona made her way into the nightclub. One of her employees manned the back door for VIPs, and promptly allowed Cona access at seeing that it was her. This was not without a shocked stare. Cona simply nodded in appreciation as she was allowed inside.

Still clutching her belly, Cona made her way through the crowds. She tried her best not to evidently waddle, though it was dark enough that she doubted people would notice. The crowded space also seemed to help conceal Cona’s belly. This place had been one of Cona’s go-to spots for dancing. Well, had been. Nowadays, Cona mostly stayed in.

She made her way to the bar, and managed to ease herself into a seat, with a minimum amount of struggle but a massive amount of awkwardness. Her belly was perched in her lap, hot and full, and heaving up and down as she sat there. Partially squished against the bar, it was mostly hidden from view.

Cona still felt self-conscious. There was no fix for her problem. It wasn’t like she could just start doing some extra reps at the gym and look good again. She ordered a gin and tonic, and sipped it as she gazed down at the bar. A second drink slid in front of her, and Cona lifted her eyes to the bartender, who subsequently nodded towards a person a few seats down.

Though reluctant, Cona turned her head to see the person who had purchased her next drink. It was a woman, to Cona’s surprise. Cona instantly reddened. The girl was gorgeous, too gorgeous for Cona, in Cona’s current state. Cona wanted to retreat, but found herself glued in place as the beautiful woman began to squeeze her way through the crowd until she had made her way over to Cona.

“Hey you,” called the woman over the music, as though they were old friends or something.

“Hey…” said Cona cagily.

“I’m Megan.” The stranger was now holding either side of Cona’s face, truly examining her features. It was nothing more or less than what Cona would expect. It was a night club, after all. “What are you doing here all alone?” the woman asked, singsongy.

Cona sighed. “Long story.”

Megan never got to hear it. Abruptly, they were kissing, licking lips, tongues invading each other’s mouths.

Their hands explored each other’s bodies. Megan slid Cona’s jacket off her shoulders, her fingers coming in contact with the mound stretching out Cona’s shirt. The slug lurched, and Cona blushed.

Megan giggled. “What the…” she finally looked down to examine Cona’s abdomen through the dimly lit space. “It this real?”

Cona’s blush deepened. “Wait, it’s not—”

Cona gasped as Megan ripped open her blouse, revealing Cona’s swollen abdomen bulging out from beneath a too-small sports bra. Cona’s swollen D-cups were bulging over it, round and feeling rather sore.

“You’re pregnant?” said Megan in shock, as Cona’s belly bobbed slightly, her belly button wiggling. “You’re huge!”

Cona’s cheeks burned in mortification. Her gut throbbed. Clutching the side of it, she eased herself off the chair, and waddled away.

Cona locked herself in the dingy club bathroom as she stared at her reflection in the cloudy mirror. What had she been thinking, coming here? She looked beyond the point of popping. Cona clenched her fists, hating herself at that moment.

Yet for some reason, she was getting aroused just looking at her mound, and the more the slug squirmed, the wetter she became. The slug shuddered. “Ohhhh…” Cona groaned, leaning back on a wall for support. She gasped as she watched her belly button wiggle. The slug was getting fitful, yet she didn’t know why. She grunted as her belly dropped somewhat, like before, like she was in labor again. “Oh god…” Cona groaned, as her knees quavered. She slid down the wall to her knees, but soon found herself on her back on that dirty floor, her hips bucking in discomfort, her body resisting as the slug began to stuff her pelvis again. It took less time than before, painful, arousing, and absolutely horrible.

Now something was pushing out…pushing in the groin of her skirt—protruding. Actually—crowning! “Nrrrghhh…” Cona moaned, feebly struggling with her skirt buttons as the slug protruded more and more. “Aaaggghhhhhhh!” But with a resilient pop, the slug slid right back inside her, Cona’s belly bulging as her eyes flew open and some vomit rose to her mouth. She scrambled up and barely managed to choke out her sick in the toilet. Then she took to gasping, her face red and her groin throbbing. She rubbed her hand along her mass, desperately trying to catch her breath.

Someone banged on the door. “What are you doing in there!?” called an irritable voice. Only then did Cona recall that there was a line, and only one toilet.

Clutching the toilet seat, she struggled, trembled, and managed to heave herself to her feet. She supported her belly, which had popped back above her pelvis by then. She desperately rubbed her hands up and down the mound, hoping the squirming creature within would calm a bit.

Still panting, Cona looked down at her sweaty form. She cupped her tangerine-sized belly button which was such an awkward, alien bulge, even against her mass. Cona tried to close her blouse, but it was sweaty, and truly stretching against her now. Additionally, Megan had broken some of the buttons, rendering it virtually useless.

“God…” she groaned, still feeling an uncomfortable pressure in her swollen groin. She couldn’t get it out. She had waited too long. She was truly going to die.

She felt lonely, resentful, and miserable. Why had she allowed things to get this far?

Cona slid the blouse off her shoulders and allowed it to drop to the ground. She leaned down to the sink and splashed some water on her face, before straightening, and taking inventory of her reflection.

Her face was still attractive as ever, some of her long hair hanging in her eyes. Her sports bra clung tight to her swollen D-cups and distended nipples, while doing nothing to conceal her flushed belly, which protruded out all wide and ludicrous on her otherwise slim frame.

Aside from the undershirt and tight black skirt, Cona was entirely exposed. She looked like a freak. A science experiment. Cona wanted nothing more than to disappear.

But somehow she managed to straighten her back, turn to the bathroom door, and open it. The frustrated people on the other side collectively developed astonished looks on their faces as Cona walked out.

Holding the side of her belly, Cona made her way back to the bar, moving slowly to avoid her mass bobbing too much. There were no more seats available, so Cona stood, against the wishes of her sore back and straining hips, and then she calmly ordered a drink.

Megan had reclaimed her spot on the other side of the bar, and Cona could feel her watching, her shock turned to fascination. Cona sipped her latest gin and tonic until she felt someone sidle up beside her.

Cona looked up from beneath her dark lashes to see that Megan had returned. “What do you want?”

Megan simply leaned over and kissed her, the two back to sucking faces as Megan curiously explored the mass. Cona took Megan’s hand and guided it, settling Megan’s digits on her bulging navel. Cona leaned her elbow back on the bar and thrust her belly out, her free hand helping Megan to rub her belly button up and down, and in a circular motion, until the protrusion was flushed and throbbing, then wiggling, Cona’s whole face going red. Cona struggled to contain her groans, her nipples burning and breasts tight. Moisture seeped into her bra and her hands dropped, Megan continuing the massage on her own.

-

Cona groaned awake, and reluctantly opened her eyes. She felt sick…heavy. Her head was throbbing. Cona looked down at herself and instantly felt like a whale. She cradled her mound as it continued to bulge out beneath her sports bra. Her mound was bigger. Huge, really, presently squashing against her lap. Cona’s face reddened as the slug squirmed, her whole mound seeming to bob without provocation. She grunted out as her navel madly twitched, and the round E-cups outgrowing her bra began to seep milk. Cona panted and rubbed at her abdomen, just hoping it would stop. She wondered what had awoken her, when she heard a banging on her front door.

Despite it, Cona deliberated just trying to go back to sleep, and dealing with this shit later. Just before she could settle down, her eyes widened, and she scrambled out of bed, nearly collapsing from her weight and poor balance. Her belly squished uncomfortably against the floor as she crawled to the corner and vomited. “Eugh…” So admittedly, she was still a little drunk. Cona reached up to her night table, fumbling to find the salt, when she heard a groggy mumble from her mattress. Cona blinked and looked up, surprised by who she spotted. “Megan?”

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