Slugs II, Part 4 - 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.

-

Cona was stunned. "What?" she said weakly.

"Cona, the slug in your abdomen has grown too big for us to pump it out of you the way we did with your friend," Misty explained. "There is no way that thing would ever fit through your esophagus. There is, however, one orifice that it can still come out of..."

Cona stood there staring, absently cupping her mound with both hands.

"So you're going to have to birth it, so to speak," said Misty. She walked towards the fridge, now peering through it. "No, no, this won’t do," Misty muttered under her breath as she dug around.

"You c-can't be serious," said Cona, now leaning back more heavily on the counter than before. Her stomach lurched and she didn't know if it was the creature inside or generalized nausea.

Misty looked up. "I don't think I could be more serious about this, Cona, and I advise you to take this seriously as well. This is a time-sensitive matter. It requires the perfect balance. The last think we'd want is for the creature to get too big."

Cona gulped.

"At the same time, it needs to be just large enough for your body to interpret it as a fetus. It will shift deeper into your pelvis in preparation for ejection."

"Ejection?" said Cona, now sweating. "I'm a human being."

"With this species, it doesn't matter," said Misty. "You saw what happened back there."

Cona thought about the round mounds that had grown on Zoe's chest after only the short while that Zoe had been forced to incubate the slug creatures. Zoe's nipples had gotten big and swollen, almost like she might start lactating.

"As I said, if you get heavy enough, your body will naturally prepare you to give birth to this creature."

Cona had to sit down. But as she moved away from the counter, she began to stumble. Misty grabbed her arm and ushered her over to the living room couch.

Cona eased herself down, slowly, very slowly. She didn't want to upset the creature in any way. She had seen how powerful the slugs could be.

Misty waved her off. "The creature is flexible and highly resilient. It doesn't mind a little jostling."

"Easy for you to say," Cona snapped. She was sweaty and breathless as she continued to process all of the new information. "Can't you just cut it out? You're a doctor, right?" Her voice was frantic.

Misty shook her head. "Though flexible, and welcome to movement, this creature is also quite volatile. And it is incredibly resistant to removal. It is a parasite, after all. It needs a host to survive, breed, and grow."

Cona stared at Misty.

"And it could react...aggressively if it feels that its home is threatened. The last place we'd want you is open on an operation table if that happens, Cona.”

"Oh god," said Cona, now rocking herself. "Did you say that it's...it's breeding?" She stared down at her heated belly. Uneasily, she lifted her shirt to stare at the plump mound.

"That appears to be a feature of the slugs that I myself don't fully understand. But it may be capable of asexual reproduction, as evidenced by the nymphs in your vomit. Cona, it's important that you don't resist the urge when you have to be sick. Even more crucial is that you pour sodium over whatever you produce. Ordinary kitchen salt should suffice. We do not want to make this situation any worse than it already is."

Cona simply shook her head, still staring at her mound.

"You'll see the signs when your body is ready to deliver. Your breasts will be engorged and your bottom will have gotten larger. Your hips may also widen some. Your belly might even drop as the slug shifts more heavily into your pelvis. By then you'll be able to try birthing. I recommend you meet with me periodically to check your progress. We do not want this thing getting any larger than a full-term fetus."

"You mean I have to wait?" said Cona, horrified.

"Only as long as it takes for the slug to grow big enough. I recommend a high-calorie diet. You don't have much on hand, but..." Misty thought for a moment, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her wallet. She withdrew a business card. "This catering company is great. Open all hours. They handled my last Christmas party."

Cona numbly took the card.

"I'll drop by tomorrow," Misty promised, as she gave Cona an encouraging pat on the shoulder. With that, Misty got up and walked out, and Cona was left alone with her thoughts.

Cona sat there, staring at the wall. She glanced at this belly and jerked down her blouse, but it was so uncomfortably tight.

Cona's eyes widened as she felt a new wave of nausea. She hurried to the bathroom, but not before snatching a canister of salt from her kitchen counter. She then kneeled down in front of the toilet and threw up.

"Eugh..." Cona groaned as she laid her head on the porcelain seat, her belly heaving as she panted. She remained like that, resigned for a couple of minutes, before she slowly lifted her head and looked down into the bowl.

Whereas at first her vomit had seemed beige and grainy, like sand, Cona could now see things floating around in an arbitrary pattern. They were roughly the size of peas, and seemed to be growing larger by the moment.

Feeling a surge of panic, Cona lifted the salt, but for some reason she hesitated. She continued to gaze down at the small, growing nymphs, as they progressively took up more space in the bowl of the toilet.

Roughly shaking herself out of her reverie, Cona quickly poured the salt into the bowl. There was a sizzling as the water frothed. Groaning in disgust, Cona closed the lid and flushed the toilet.

Cona heaved herself off the bathroom floor and went to her bedroom where she stripped down to her panties and climbed into bed. She didn’t think that she would be able to handle work in her current mental state. She couldn’t believe that she had to get even fatter. To the point that she looked at-term with child. People already looked at her funny as it was.

Cona’s stomach lurched, causing her groin to tingle and her face to redden. She didn’t know why she was getting off on this. She felt a squirming sensation, and curled around her mound, hugging it, rubbing it, hoping it would stop. “No …” she whispered, as she creature squirmed some more, making her short of breath. “Nnghhhhh…ohhhhhh…” She came, and felt nothing short of mortified even though she was alone. Her plump belly wiggled as she gasped for breath. “Just relax…relax…” she whispered. She didn’t know if she was saying it to herself or to the slug, but she continued to rub the mound, and things winded down. Feeling physically and emotionally drained, Cona closed her eyes and fell asleep.

-

Cona’s eyes snapped open. She glanced at the clock radio on her nightstand to see that it was 5 in the afternoon. She had been asleep for hours, and it didn’t take Cona long to realize what had awoken her. She groaned as she was assaulted by another hunger pain.

Cona climbed out of bed, holding her belly with one hand. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that stretched tightly over her girth, revealing a few inches of the mound beneath the hem.

Cona tried not to glance at the mirror as she exited the room, but it was unavoidable.

Her shorts were snug in the back where her ass protruded, and her bloated chest was visible in the too-tight T-shirt, but she was no different than she had been prior to when she had gone to sleep. Her belly was round, but plump rather than firm. It bobbed slightly as she walked, and Cona held the underside of the mound to help stabilize it. Her round belly button protruded visibly against the stretched shirt material.

Cona was panting by the time she made it to the kitchen, though it had nothing to do with fatigue. Cona looked into her fridge, but it contained nothing but condiments. She spotted the card for the catering company that Misty had given her on the couch. Cona walked over to the couch and lifted it, before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the number with a trembling hand.

“Hi, I wanted to order, ohhhh…” She groaned. “Can you…can you just give me one of everything on the menu?” Cona breathed heavily, continuing to rub her mound. It seemed to be throbbing by then. “How…how long will that take? Okay, okay, I—I can wait. Just hurry.” Cona eased herself down on the couch, continuing to hold the phone to her ear. “Can you charge it to a credit card? The number is…” Cona wrapped up the call, and was left alone, with the slug. She leaned back and closed her eyes, her belly perched in her lap. She tried to breathe though the worsening hunger pains. “Nnnngghh…” But they were getting bad.

Cona didn’ t know how much time passed. It could have been five minutes. It could have been thirty. But by then, she was flushed, and hot, and her belly was full of tension, the slug lurching non-stop. Unable to sit still any longer, Cona climbed up and walked to the fridge. She opened it, looked around, and finally grabbed a bottle of ketchup. She stared at it for a moment, a little disgusted with herself. Unable to hold out any longer, she unscrewed the cap and lifted it to her lips.

There was a knock on the door.

Lowering the ketchup bottle, Cona hurried over to the door, and opened it, not caring about her bloated, disheveled appearance. There was a man carrying five large disposable pans of food. “Cona Smith?”

Cona nodded desperately.

The delivery man let himself in, and Cona was surprised to see three other men follow behind him, each carrying a similar pile of pans. They piled food onto the table and counters, and when they ran out of surface space, Cona just urged them to put the remaining pans on the couch. Each pan was two feet wide and two feet long. There was enough food to feed dozens of people.

“You having a party?” said one of the caterers looking around skeptically.

“You could say that,” said Cona, anxiously fishing a $100 bill out of her pocket. She shoved it into the delivery man’s hand. “Thanks. Thank you,” she said hastily.

All of them giving Cona an odd look, the delivery men filed back out of the apartment. Cona quickly closed the door behind them, then turned back to the meal, her stomach churning by then.

Feeling a familiar loss of control, she launched herself at the table.

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