Abstinence, Part 11

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Summary: Cara, a 20-year-old college student, had the wildest night of her life. Unbeknownst to her, she has been impregnated by an alien species. The alien grows and feeds off of arousal, so any time she get aroused, the alien grows. The alien has a 12-month gestation period and Cara must try her best to abstain from any sexual activities or anything that arouses her. The amount of arousal will affect size of the alien offspring, but it will still take 12-months until birth. Idea submitted by Jacob.
Contains: Female: belly expansion, alien pregnancy, breast expansion, stuffing, lactation, and more.

Previous Chapter 

-

“Fuck, why do you have to be so good at that,” Cara whined. God, things were getting out of control. “I’m gonna be in some real trouble if you keep doing that.” Cara’s pleasure climbed higher and higher towards that disastrous peak.

“That’s the goal,” said Amber huskily against the shell of her ear.

Cara gasped awake, her heart racing. It seemed fitting that she was fucking Amber even in her dreams. Cara’s eyes darted around her bedroom as she registered where she was and what she was doing. Just lying in bed, by herself, relaxing. At times, dozing pleasantly. It was the middle of the day, but her body seemed to require more rest than ever before.

The remnants of the dream still had her skin tingling, heat radiating from her belly to her groin and threatening to build further. Cara tried to control it, her chest heaving, her body flushed. She tried to temper her arousal, drawing in long, deep breaths of air.

She went through her mental inventory of unpleasant things, until her core had relaxed, tension no longer on the cusp of pushing her past the edge.

Gasping for breath, Cara gazed dazedly at the ceiling.

It was two days since the pool incident, and she was still steadily adjusting to her increased weight and altered center of gravity.

She was sprawled across her bed, perched partially upright by an assortment of pillows. As she often did lately, Cara marveled at her transformation. Her belly had to be the size of a beach ball by then, resting heavily against her curvy body, as it rose and fell with her heavy breathing. Shelved by the mass was a pair of plump breasts that resembled honeydews in how round and bloated they were, as they sat high on her chest.

Cara’s hips had only gotten fuller, and her thighs, thicker. Her body as a whole was so voluptuous, so feminine and fertile.

And Cara was just…happy, at that moment, as she lay there with a sleepy smile, gazing at the ceiling and thinking about how outrageous her life was; how wonderful it was to have Amber alongside her for this crazy ride.

Cara was wearing a bikini top that didn’t nearly fit her, breast flesh bulging out of the measly cups in every direction. The only thing the garment really covered was her nipples, but that was sufficient.

Cara had a sheet wrapped around her belly and hips like a skirt. The pressurized fullness and heaviness of her abdomen felt strangely comforting. It was a sensation she was getting used to.

Cara couldn’t help reaching down to stroke the swollen mass, her face flushing as she tried not to let her thoughts stray too far south. She tried to isolate the bliss of the sensation without getting aroused, and she allowed her eyelids to sink.

God, this baby was getting so big. Her belly was wider than the rest of her, just huge and heavy and so truly packed. A giant alien baby – how the hell was she going to get this thing out of her anyway? It certainly wasn’t fitting through her cunt. Cara winced at the thought.

Cara glanced at her clock and groaned at the realization that it was time to get up. She had to fumble, shift, and wiggle her ass to the edge of the bed, easing the weight of her abdomen to her lap as she gasped for breath, gripping onto her sturdy headboard with one hand and her night table with another. It took several attempts until she was on her feet, red and gasping, gripping her belly as she struggled to acclimate to the sheer act of standing.

Then she was awkwardly waddling as she arduously navigated her massive body, arching and shuffling, grimacing from the strain. She couldn’t see the doorknob, couldn’t find it with her hand, not until she turned sideways, gripping it with difficulty, pushing the door open, and carefully guided her belly through the doorway, and then the rest of her body.

She was so fucking pregnant. All flustered and motherly. The concept was still so ridiculous. She was a drinker, a party girl, not some soft, blushing nurturer.

Cara abruptly regretted leaving her bedroom when she came upon Jessica in the kitchen.

Oddly enough, Jessica didn’t seem to notice her.

Cara stared as Jessica hungrily gulped down spoonfuls of strawberry jam straight from the jar. Every time Cara saw her roommate lately, Jessica appeared to be voracious, eating as though she hadn’t seen food in days. Eating as though she was just starving.

Which Jessica clearly wasn’t. In fact, it appeared as though Jessica was putting on weight, and rapidly. Her thighs were thicker and softer, now squishing together, and her belly appeared a bit chubbier.

There was a knock on the door. Jessica jerked at the noise, quickly setting the jam onto the counter.

She then hurried to the door, swinging it open to reveal some guy with a six-pack of beer and a guitar strapped to his back. Cara thought she recognized him from her Eco class.

“Hey girl, surprised you called,” said the guy as he grinned while brushing some of his longish hair off his forehead. “I wrote a song for you.” He pulled the guitar off his back and began to strum some chords while singing a melodious tune.

The guy broke off with squawk as Jessica grabbed his shirt, pulling him roughly into the apartment.

“The only thing I need now is for you to fuck me,” Jessica said with a hoarse intensity that left the guy flustered.

“Uh…okay…” The guy barely got out the two words before Jessica was dragging him toward her bedroom. The door slammed shut behind them, a variety of yelps and crashing noises sounding from beyond the door.

Cara snapped out of her reverie. She let her gaze drift over the kitchen, which was a mess, thanks to Jessica’s frenzied eating. There were various dirty dishes, containers, and food packagings lying all over the place. Cara eyed an empty can of shortening and gulped. Something truly weird was going on.

Well, at least Jessica wasn’t bothering Cara anymore.

Shrugging to herself, Cara waddled in. She gingerly stepped over a crumpled bread bag as she made her way over to the fridge.

-

Amber’s cousin really came through with the clothes.

Cara received a whole box of garment options. The designer was certainly imaginative, because everything fit somehow. Cara found herself blushing as she wondered how Amber could have described the sizing needs for the outfits.

Cara tried several things on. There were some shirts and blouses, maternity pants and skirts, various dresses in different styles, and even some undergarments like bandeaus and swimsuits.

Cara wasn’t even halfway through trying on the clothing, but she was already exhausted. She gazed in the mirror at the stunning mermaid dress she was wearing. It was truly gorgeous, but Cara couldn’t imagine an occasion in which it would be warranted. The material hugged her curves, showing them off. Cara trailed her hands along her swollen belly then up to her breasts, her cleavage protruding heavily from the strapless sweetheart neckline.

The buzzing of her cell phone snapped her out of staring at herself in the mirror. She was honestly amazed by how beautiful she looked in the dress, even despite her massive pregnancy. A glance around the bedroom, and her darkening windows, reminded Cara of how late it was getting.

Cara looked down at her phone where it lay on her dresser, her eyebrows rising when she saw the name displayed there. She lifted the device to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” said an unfamiliar male voice, which was partially obscured by background chatter and music. “Glad I got through to someone. I’m calling from, uh, Greg’s phone, right? Well, he said his name was Greg.”

Cara’s eyebrows rose yet higher. “Did he lose it or something?” She was honestly surprised that her number was still saved in Greg’s phone as a contact. “If you give me your information, I can pass it on to him when I see him at work tomorrow—”

“No,” the guy cut her off. “No, it’s not lost. Your friend is here, he’s just fucked up. Can’t even tell us his address so we can call him a cab or something.”

“Oh,” Cara said, her brows now furrowing. “Well…is he okay?”

“I have no clue, lady. He puked in Garrett’s fucking fish tank and now he’s passed out on the ottoman. He needs to get the hell out of the house.”

“House?” Cara said. “Frat party?” she guessed.

“Alpha Phi Chi Sigma Beta Chi Phi,” the guy confirmed. “We’re a few blocks west of campus. Just off of—”

“Snyder Boulevard, yeah, I’m familiar,” Cara said. She had been at a few parties at said location in her, er, slimmer days. “I’m actually kind of…preoccupied right now.” She glanced down at her momentous midsection. “I’m not even that close to Greg, I’m just his coworker. Can you just let him sleep it off or, like, call someone else?”

“You’re the third person I tried,” groused the unnamed guy. “And this phone’s about to die. I’m running out of patience. The frat is already on probation and your buddy needs to get the fuck out. He’s completely passed out and I’m not even sure if he’s breathing at this point. Ted’s talking about dumping him in the woods. I’m not dealing with this shit. You need to send someone over here to pick him up.”

Cara gulped. “I’ll be right over.” She hung up the phone then took a deep breath.

Sure, she and Greg had their differences, but she didn’t want him to die. She grabbed her purse and keys off the dresser and waddled out of her room without even bothering to change. She was already hurriedly ordering a cab on her phone as she pushed her way out of the apartment, her chest tight with worry.

In a matter of minutes, Cara was wedged in the back of a cab, pulling up to the familiar frat house. She struggled to push the door open and was about to ask the driver to wait for her to come back, but found herself pausing to glance at the most recent notification on her phone screen.

what r u up to? Amber had asked.

honestly freaking out Cara texted hurriedly.

???Amber responded.

Can u meet me at Alpha Phi Chi Sigma Beta Chi Phi? Cara asked.

There was only a momentary pause, before Amber responded, be there in five minutes. wats going on?

But Cara was already putting her phone back into her purse. She wiggled and shoved her body the rest of the way out of the car, heaving herself to her feet with a groan, knees quaking. She arched, gasping for breath, while gripping the car for balance. Her belly rose up and down with her heavy breathing.

“Chop, chop lady!” heckled the driver who seemed to have gotten over his shock of her dramatic pregnancy and was now just impatient. He probably thought her condition was some gag, especially now that they were in front of the obvious frat house, a variety of drunk college students playing beer pong on the lawn as music blasted from the open doorway.

Cara offered him a rude hand gesture but nevertheless stepped away from the car. She glared as he sped off then she clutched her belly, struggling to catch her breath. Finally, she was composed enough to slowly turn toward the house and approach it at a strained waddle.

People stared at her, some of them blinking hard and then looking at their drinks. Fatigue didn’t lend itself to grace. Cara pushed her way past people, her belly shoving them aside or knocking beverages out of their hands. She made her way through the masses of students until she got to the living room, then the ottoman where Greg was curled up and, thankfully, at least semi-conscious, judging by the way he was squirming.

“Greg!” Cara exclaimed.

“Da fuq?” someone mouthed, gawking at Cara.

The music turned off. Suddenly the house was eerily quiet, a large crowd having formed a circle around Cara and Greg in the living room.

Greg’s eyes opened. He blinked up at her as he hugged the couch cushion he was clutching to his chest. “Cara?” he slurred, eyes unfocused. He seemed momentarily daunted by her midsection and toppled from the ottoman, but managed to clamber onto all fours.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Cara said, closing their distance to help him to his feet.

“Who’s the huge chick?” a male spectator asked before he took a generous gulp from the cup in his hand. “Or did someone roofie me again? Ha ha, very funny, Brad.”

“The fuck are you pregnant with, an elephant?” some other guy demanded.

“Is that Cara Foster?”

“What the fuck?”

“Fuck off!” Cara snarled at them as she ushered Greg through the house. “And if you’re wondering, yes, it’s fucking yours.”

All the frat guys in the room seemed to collectively blanch. One even stumbled back and fell on his ass.

“God Cara, you look like yer about to esplode,” Greg rambled drunkenly as they made their way to the front door. “Please don’t get any bigger, I’m ssss…scared, I’m scared of…” His free hand groped her swell. Cara’s cheeks went pink, but she tried to stay focused on the task at hand.

Tires squealed as a beat up old SUV suddenly sped into view, leaping the curb. Several of the beer pong players shrieked, knocking the table over. The car honked, an arm waving out the window. Cara sighed in relief.

It was Amber.

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