Queen Bee, Part 3

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Note: This is the female version of King Bee.

Summary: Cona gets stung by a radioactive bee. Contains: Female: bee creature pregnancy, belly expansion, egg laying, breast expansion, lactation, stuffing.

Previous Chapter

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She gave birth," said John in shock, kneeling down beside the two towel-wrapped bundles on the living room floor of Cona's apartment.

The place was a disaster. It looked as though it had been torn apart by bears. There were torn clothes about the floor and food wrappings covering every visible surface. The living room had become some sort of a junk yard.

"Only two," said Sarah, kneeling down beside John and carefully unwrapping one of the eggs. She raised it, surprised that it was warm. Cona had produced a functional egg. Something was alive in it. It was astounding. "Judging by the rate her body was developing them, you'd think there would be more by now."

John rubbed his chin. "That may be so, but Cona's anatomically human—for the most part. She might have difficulty giving birth to them. I wouldn't be surprised if she's developing them faster than she can—well, lay them."

Sarah carefully deposited the egg she was holding into her backpack, for later examination. She collected the second and thoughtfully stared at it. "We have to help her," she said, turning back to John.

Her coworker nodded. "Agreed."

Back in the woods, Cona was roused from her sleep for a second time by labor pains. Pulling her pants down, she adjusted herself the best she could, trying to bend her legs and bare down without putting too much pressure on her beach ball-sized burden. Her top was bunched above it, serving little purpose than to conceal her budding bosom. Cona grunted in pain as several more eggs worked their way into her birth canal and she struggled to push them out of her, her belly heaving and body aching from the exertions. When the latest four had been successfully delivered, she groaned as her belly gurgled. Her young were hungry.

And she, exhausted.

Honey seeped freely from her stinger. Her chest had gotten increasingly puffy over the course of the day, her nipples aching and sticking out in her sweatshirt. Her body was continuously preparing. She just had to keep strong, keep feeding.

Before she could strategize on this further, however, Cona dozed off again, her genes unequivocally human and unable to maintain a bee's ardency. She remained peacefully unaware of her tightening birth canal, her growing girth, her widening hips, and her nipples, which began to seep honey just like her stinger. With or without her, Cona’s condition would progress. She was the Queen of her hive, and her purpose was to produce young.

Miles away, two eggs began to hatch.

Her bag left on a desk in her office, Sarah failed to notice. Within its confines, two eggs cracked, the creatures within them struggling to escape.

The first of them finally broke free of its shell, revealing large inky eyes, a pointed proboscis where a nose could have been, and a yellow face. It had a wide, greedy mouth, and an almost—humanoid face. With wiry black limbs and an onyx bee's body, it unfurled and revealed itself to be the size of a human infant. Large translucent insect wings fluttering on it's back, it tore out of the bag just as it's sibling began to break free from its own leg egg. Four inch long stingers twitched behind them as they took to the air. Their throats released no wails or words, just a persistent buzzing sound. The bee creatures flew out of the office and took notice of the humans in the next room. Upon spotting them, the scientists released shocked gasps and began to scatter in fear.

Frightened, in turn, by the volume of their screams, the first-born stung one of the scientists in the chest.

"Terry!" Sarah cried, watching her coworker collapse, bleeding. Huddled beneath a desk, she remained frozen and unable to bring herself to move. Others were running about screaming. Another was stung, and collapsed dead across a desk on the other side of the room. Sarah heard the sound of glass breaking, then the whooshing of air as the bees departed. She remained still for a while longer. The situation had just become dangerous.

She stared as John climbed out from beneath his own desk and stormed out the door, chasing after the creatures.

Back in the forest, Cona grunted in her sleep, a new egg crowing despite her fatigue. She whimpered in her sleep and instinctively rocked her hips, a bulge developing in her sweatpants and slowly expanding outwards. "Errgh...ngghhh..." Cona moaned, finally awaking. Groaning as she realized what was happening, she reached into her pants and cradled the egg just as she completed her latest birth. She removed her egg from her pants, only to feel another begin to crown. Her whole body ached. Her hips bulged at her flanks, pulsating and contracting as more eggs forced their way through them. She could tell there were many more keen to escape her. Moaning, Cona bore down on the latest of her litter. Though her eyes were crinkled in pain, she noticed her cleavage had developed to C-cups tucked into her clothes. Reluctantly opening one of her eyes, Cona noticed the goey stains on her shirt against her stinging nipples. "Errgh—" she was again distracted as an egg slid through her birth canal. She forced herself to push, ignoring as the front of her pullover continued to moisten.

When it was over, Cona gasped, trying to catch her breath before she would have to eject the next one. She blinked when she heard a buzzing noise, and looked up.

Cona stared as two large humanoid-bee things flew into the clearing and descended on her. She tensed as they landed upon her girth, but then they buried themselves under her shirt.

Heart pounding, Cona relaxed.

Her young.

She yelped slightly as one latched onto one of her nipples, to be quickly followed by the other. Stretching out her feeble shirt, they began to keenly suckle, Cona gasping as they fed for minutes on end, then dozens of minutes, and finally into the next hour, ignoring her grunts of discomfort. She clutched them to her, astonished that her bosom was able to provide for their abundant need.

The young minded not as their maker’s belly periodically swelled outwards, or as her body clenched in pain from her latest labor. By the time they were finished, the crotch of her pants were packed with eggs. Cona gingerly removed them, her eyes still glued to her buzzing newborns.

Her breasts felt sore, and far less pressurized. But she felt a strange pressure within them; a hotness that drenched them in sweat; a tingling that left them tender. Her nipples stung more than ever and remained stubbornly erect.

Cona panted when the labors finally seemed to suspend for the time being. By then she was surrounded by eggs, her two new young buzzing around them, peacefully curious. She wearily smiled as one observed her belly. Her abdomen trembled, and the bee creatures jerked back, seeming intimidated by it.

Cona blinked when one of creatures suddenly took to the air and began to fly back toward town. "Wait—!" she called, but was interrupted when her belly gurgled again. She grunted in discomfort and rubbed it the best she could, failing to notice as the remaining bee creature's nose-like proboscis distended. "Where are you goi-?" she called out, but was again cut off. She released a muffled noise of surprise as the remaining bee's proboscis was suddenly shoved between her lips. Her mouth was immediately filled with a thick, sour concoction.

Cheeks puffing out, Cona began to resist, but her young latched to her face, shoving its proboscis deeper into her mouth. She had no choice but to gulp it down, and slowly realized what it was.

Royal jelly.

It was an acquired taste, but it was...passable. For minutes she was sprawled there, feeding just as her young had been. The session began with reluctance, but continued with keenness, then greediness. She barely noticed as her belly swelled with new eggs, or as her hips bloated with a fresh litter. When the bee finally detached from her, she was slightly disoriented.

"Ugh..."

But her unborns seemed appreciative. Her belly was impossibly taut and heavy. Shifting slightly beneath her girth, Cona tried to find a comfortable position to rest. Her eyes began to drift, just as she noticed the former bee creature returning to the clearing. This time it was accompanied by three others. Cona grinned in surprise. "My children." She was interrupted as the returning bee stuffed its proboscis into her mouth. Her eyes wide, Cona feebly gulped. Her belly gurgled, but with fullness. She and her in unborns, for once, were stuffed.

But she was the Queen. She needed to keep feeding.

Cona grunted slightly as two other creatures latched to her sore breasts. She'd failed to notice how her busom had bloated up again. The royal jelly kept her well-nourished. Her young feasted on her plump Ds as Cona meanwhile gorged on jelly. The others buzzed approvingly all around her, massaging her trembling girth, or cleaning stray bits of batter out of her hair.

When Cona finished her latest serving, she felt exhausted, and a little nauseous. Ignoring the fervent young in her sweatshirt, the eggs periodically developing in her belly, and the way her hips burned and groin ached, she closed her eyes. It was time for a nap.

Her young, however, were keen to keep her up. A new proboscis was stuffed into her mouth, her children urging more jelly down her throat. Cona gulped it down the best she could.

The eggs around her were beginning to hatch, each newborn fighting for a turn to feed from her bosom. Despite their abuse, her breasts were still swelling, keen to provide for their demand. They were fat, and round, nipples seeping tauntingly when a babe dared to detach.

Soon enough, Cona was surrounded by a miniature swarm of the bee creatures, buzzing around her, cleaning her skin, rubbing her belly, and massaging her breasts. They provided her with an eternal food supply despite her discomfort. Cona was turned onto her side, her belly beginning to look like an overstuffed beanbag, discontent bulges all about its surface. On the occasions she could, Cona rocked her hips, urging more eggs from her sac into her womb. She was so fertile. She was a good Queen.

Cona had been there for less than a day, and was becoming incapacitated by her sheer abundance. When the latest proboscis was removed from her mouth, she chuckled lightly to herself, before it was promptly replaced by another. Her shoulders shook with silent giggles. She continued to force jelly down her throat.

By evening, it seemed she was being given a break. Cona groaned in protest as several of brood took hold of her arms and began to pull her up to a sitting position. She knew they were well-meaning, but it was unwarranted. She released a hoarse scream, her girth unwilling to harmonize with her, and in fact, threatening to spill away. She clutched it tightly—what she could of it—breathing heavily when it was finally propped in her lap. The size and weight of a boulder, her legs were spread wide to make room for it, to little success. Instead, her belly crushed them, subtle shifts and movements scattered about its trembling surface. Still, she could feel each moment a new egg materialized. She could feel her tightly packed burden shift, and feel her belly swell just a little more.

Perched against her belly, and propped high on her chest, were her DD-cups, still perpetually seeping, still gradually swelling. Cona smiled in satisfaction. She would have more than enough to feed her growing brood.

Little did she know, her colleagues were about to interrupt.

Following the reign of terror left by the young bees, John and Sarah ran into the forest with several other scientists. They followed curious trails of what looked like honey, and batter, and a weird purple goo, before coming upon a clearing only a few kilometers into the forest. What they found left them speechless.

Their coworker, Cona, was sprawled against a tree, her abdomen so vastly distended it looked as though it was crushing her. Curious bulges littered her taut skin as the eggs sought more room to expand. Propped above it was her soaked shirt, and two plump breasts being pushed toward her chin by her belly. Attached to those was a pair of bees, making sucking noises as they simultaneously nursed.

All around Cona, the bees buzzed through the air, easily becoming a swarm. The ground around her was littered with fresh eggs and broken shells.

One of the creatures had it's proboscis in Cona's mouth, the scientist gulping something down while clutching her momentous belly.

"Out of the way," said Eric. He and some others had come armed with flamethrowers in preparation for the bees. Sarah hesitated, but stepped back.

Two bees dropped from the air as they were incinerated. Cona stopped mid-gulp to notice her unwelcome guests. "No!" she yelled. She grunted as a powerful tremble ran through her girth.

Becoming hostile as they realized what had happened to their siblings, several bee creatures darted toward the scientists, their stingers preceding them. They were quickly charred as well. Eric and the others began to move forward, continuing to shoot fire at the creatures.

"No! Stop!" Cona yelled. She released a scream of pain as her belly continued to squirm, shifting and swelling visibly now. Her screams caught in her throat as she choked on something. She gagged a few times, before her throat bulged and her cheeks puffed out. Leaning down, she regurgitated an egg. It rolled down her girth and plopped to the grass, Cona gasping for breath as it did.

As some of the scientists stared at what had become of Cona, more creatures were set aflame. Some simply had their wings charred, and fell helplessly to the grass. Eric promptly crushed them with his boots despite Cona's hysterical wails.

When all the bees had been taken care of, the scientists rounded on the eggs, smashing each of them to gooey bits. Cona was hyperventilating, her face pink, stinger wriggling as her belly lurched and her bosom oozed sweet, sticky honey. The woman could barely seem to breathe. At the times her released cries of protest, she was interrupted as eggs burst up her throat to be regurgitated from her mouth. She clutched them to her chest, but those too were taken from her, and smashed.

Finally, the flamethrowers were lowered, Eric with more reluctance than the others. "What are we going to do with her? She's out of her mind," he said, staring at Cona's pulsating abdomen.

Sarah pushed passed him, hands clenched at her sides. "We have to help her.”

Cona passed out, and everything else was a haze.

She vaguely recalled being heaved painfully upwards, reunited with gravity and not liking it at all. Deliriously, she clutched her belly, others helping to keep it supported, but it was excruciating all the same. Her nipples released bubbling noises as they oozed thick honey with their movements. Her belly was taut and low on her abdomen, her spine feeling like it would break in two. She did manage a number of births during the arduous walk out of the forest, but she felt them being scooped out of her pants as soon as she had them. Soon she was being loaded into the back of a windowless truck. When Cona came to, she was sprawled on the ground behind a glass wall. She raised her head and realized that she was back at the lab in one of the containment rooms. Through the glass, she noticed a couple of scientists staring at her as though she was an alien.

"Urghh..." A hunger pain shot through her girth, which seemed even larger since she'd been unconscious. She looked around, eventually spotting a small plate of food set on the ground a couple of feet from her. She struggled to move.

It took her fifteen minutes simply to shift her belly onto her lap, allowing herself to sit up. She took an additional fifteen minutes to catch her breath and massage what she could of her girth. Then, on her bottom, kicking out with her legs, she struggled to shift herself backwards and toward the plate. She clutched her belly all the while with her free hand.

It was a painfully difficult ordeal, but she managed, shifting backwards, inch by inch, and eventually reaching the dish.

Shaking from exhaustion, she raised it to her face, watching the plate shake in her clammy hold.

Steamed beets, some rice, and chicken breast.

Cona stuffed the plate into her face and gobbled the food down in all of twelve seconds. When she was finished, her girth continued to ache with hunger. She whimpered unhappily, and lowered herself. Her gut stuck out in the air. She feebly attempted to rock her hips and urge more eggs from her sac into her womb.

"Urggh..." she was so heavy with young, her belly proudly bursting out of her measly attire. The scientists murmured amongst themselves. They were unworthy of beholding it. She breathed heavily beneath the wonderful weight of it.

She held her girth. The children were hers. They were inside of her. They couldn't be taken away from her again!

"Nrrgh!" Cona felt herself go into labor, more of her young keen to enter the cruel world. Limbs rigid in pain, she remained unmoving. It was too soon. She didn't want to risk their lives by giving birth to them here.

She felt her hips creak and widen as eggs shifted between them, poised at her birth canal. She held her abdomen, grunting regularly as the pressure within her built.

Within the hour, her hips began aching, her belly heaving as the young protested her measures. Her body was soaked in sweat, stabbing pains shooting throughout it. The first of her litter forced its way through her, attempting to crown, but could not succeed had she wanted it to give her position on the floor. She knew her body would betray her, and released another grunt of pain. "It isn't...safe...here," she managed, breathing. She ignored as her observers continued to stare.

Her belly shuddered in disagreement. "Oh..." Cona groaned as more masses formed on it's lumpy surface. Her belly swelled outward and at her flanks. More eggs seeped into her abdomen. "Unnnnngghhh..." She wasn't producing young so her body thought she needed more.

No longer able to bare the pain and discomfort, her innards burning and hips feeling like they might break, Cona struggled to draw up her knees and spread her legs.

So...heavy. She released a groan of pain as some of her weight shifted toward her chest, leaving her breathless. Eggs immediately began to force their way out of her body and plop into her pants as her body rocked and yet more jammed their way into her aching pelvis. She released a belch, nearly choking as an egg forced its way up her throat.

Between the births, she lifted her lips despite herself, feeble smiles to be quickly replaced with grimaces of effort. She would revive her hive. She would resurrect her young. Her pants pushed down from her waist as the crotch was filled with grapefruit-sized eggs.

The scientists stared on as she filled her arms with a fresh batch of eggs. She didn't know how many were below her, still collecting and spilling out of her pants. Her body was flushed and drenched in sweat. Cona didn't notice that her nose was distending, or that her eyes had become beady black orbs.

Cona stiffened when she heard one of the doors to the room open. She hissed as two of her former colleagues approached. She looked up at Eric and Sarah, the latter who looked pale and the former, disgusted. Both carrying cloth bags, they began to collect the eggs and take them away. Hissing and writhing, Cona struggled to lash out at them with her developing claws. Her belly hindered any efforts she made to outmaneuver them. She could barely move. Her belly gurgled, disapproving of her exertions.

"Sorry Cona," said Sarah, scooping the last of the eggs up. "We're trying to help you. This is for your own good."

Cona heard the door swing open and close again, and then Sarah and Eric were gone with her young. Off to the incinerator. Cona’s face burned and teeth clenched.

Her breasts were taut with honey, the size of cantaloupes by then, swelling and swelling, keen to feed her brood. They were perk and round, but soft and resisting, spilling sticky honey whenever she mistakenly pressed on them. She touched the mounds, so large, so bloated, far more abundant than any mere human's. Her nipples were fat and erect, the size of coke caps, and making her egg sac tighten as they rubbed against her clothes. Her sweatshirt was sticky and plastered against her skin, only pulling down halfway over her breasts, barely covering her bulging nipples. Cona curiously cradled the underside of one mound, and grunted, feeling both tighten.

Why were they taking her eggs from her? Why wouldn't they leave her and her children alone!?

"Unngghhhh-!" a sudden pressure shot through her shoulder blades. A disgusting tearing and cracking noise erupted behind her, accompanied by a corresponding pain. Cona lifted her back the best she could. Blood trailed down her spine as new appendages emerged from her back. They opened, and pushed against the floor. They were strong, and helped Cona maneuver herself up. She released brief pained wails as she did so, grunting and struggling. An egg protruded, but then pushed back into her, Cona’s face reddening more.

Finally she was upright, with her legs spread and belly pressed against her lap. Cona gasped for breath, sweat trickling from her brow. She looked back at the wings she had developed. Maybe she could make some use of them.

Cona experimentally flapped her bug wings. They were still slick with her body fluids, but she allowed them to flutter until they dried. She quickly became accustomed to the process.

Finally, she began to flap them more aggressively, feeling the momentum tug on her torso.

Her body, however, did not move. Cona snarled indignantly, beating her wings harder, but only managing to further exhaust herself.

She sunk against her girth, resigned. It was no use. She groaned in hunger. Closing her eyes, she began to doze.

On the other side of glass, John observed. He and the other scientists were struggling to figure out a way to cure Cona's endless reproductive cycle, but they didn't know where to start. Cona’s anatomy was neither human nor insect at that point, and it left them treading on unknown territory. If they brought in outside assistance, it would lead to the immediate shut down of the lab, the loss of their careers, and a lengthy ethics investigation, no doubt. Their studies of Cona's condition alarmed them more than it helped. The creatures were dangerous, and she was producing them endlessly. At this rate-

John frowned. It didn't seem that they would be able to save the subject, regardless of what actions they took. Their best option was to keep things quiet.

Over the course of the day, the scientists allowed Cona small portions of food, but it only seemed to make her more uncomfortable, and her labors, more difficult. Concerned, the scientists agreed to give Cona copious amounts, but it still didn't seem to be enough, and Cona’s prognosis only worsened.

The scientists took shifts to monitor her 24/7, and they collected her eggs hourly. They tried to keep her as comfortable as possible, noticing that she was weakening, and having increasing difficulty giving birth. That evening, John and Sarah stood and watched Cona struggle for an hour simply to deliver one egg. By the time she succeeded, her face was red and sweaty, veins visible against her temple. Worse was that she still appeared to be in labor, hips bulging, belly pulsating, pelvis contracting, and new knots appearing and pushing out against her stomach. She groaned loudly, and continued to fruitlessly struggle. She was propped against her gargantuan abdomen, far larger than she was by then. John could tell she was approaching the end of her lifeline.

"Should we sedate her?" John questioned.

"What's the point? She'll be unhappy regardless," Sarah muttered back.

"She's exhausted."

"If we sedate her, she might not be able to give birth at all. That could only make matters worse." Sarah sighed. "You've got the night shift?"

"Yes.”

"Then have a good one. Keep me posted if anything unusual happens."

John snorted at the irony of the remark. Sarah walked off.

He went back to his office and did some paperwork, eventually dozing off but waking just in time for the latest collection. Yawning, John returned to the main lab and quietly entered Cona's room.

But it wasn't as though she was sleeping. She was still struggling with her labors. Her face was still flushed, chin dripping sweat. She was perched on her knees, almost completely against her girth. Each of her breasts were large as her head.

John tiredly reached into the back of her pants to collect the latest eggs. It was a routine by then. He frowned at noticing there was only one. Just as he began to withdraw it-

"Ouch!"

In his fatigue, he'd failed to dodge Cona’s squirming stinger. John retracted his hand and stared at the puncture wound upon it.

"Shit."

The End