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A beleagered and underpaid clerk by day, Lyla is doing the thankless work of at least three people at her job. By night she is an aspiring witch. Well, kind of. She's only ever read about spells and rituals until now, as she decides to summon and bind an imp to her service to help with her staggering workload. At first the summoning ritual seems to yield nothing...until, that is, her belly swells and she unexpectedly births her newly indentured demonic servant from the portal now rooted within her womb. Contains: demonic pregnancies, birth, eventual multiples, lactation, magical shenanigans. Idea by Chel.

Previous Chapter 

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She woke up in a hot bubble bath.

Lyla blinked rapidly in confusion, trying to figure how she had gotten there.

Not that she was opposed to it. The hot water felt nice on her tender body. And the soft aroma of cherries was simply divine. Lyla slumped back with a sigh, allowing the heat to soothe her anxieties as she wondered if the whole thing hadn’t just been a dream.

But as she shifted, she could not deny the soreness of her hips and the achiness of her groin. She lifted her hands to cup her chest. “Oh…” Her breasts were undeniably plumper, fuller and rounder, feeling bloated and not drooping the way they normally did. As Lyla looked down at them, she could tell that she was at least a cup size larger.

There was a noise, like a small grumble or growl. Lyla’s head snapped up, and she noticed Impy standing there watching her, looking unimpressed like usual.

Impy had not grown much since she had last seen him. He still looked to be in his teens, if more wiry and miniature, with sharp fangs and claws. He had also fashioned himself a loin cloth she was pretty sure he’d made out of her best sheets.

He bared his teeth and made chuffing noise as he approached and started washing her hair.

Lyla found herself staring at the figure that had been blocked from view by him until that moment. “Oh…”

It was another imp. She’d had another.

This one had green skin. It seemed like a short, chubby toddler with fangs too big for its mouth. Its big eyes blinked at her with a blank stare.

Fuck, was all Lyla could think.

Lyla got up, wincing as her hair was tugged on. But she slipped free as Impy growled disapprovingly.

“No,” she told him as she grabbed a towel off the rack beside the tub. She wrapped it around her then squeezed soapy water out of her hair. “I…have to figure this out.” Again, she found herself staring at Greeny. Shit, had she already named the new one?

Cursing under her breath, Lyla stepped out of the tub, soaking the mat. And it was only with this movement that she felt it, and then saw it. The awkward tension. The visible curve.

“Fuck!”

She was at a loss for words. She looked back at her imps, stammering, “Am I…I’m not—?”

The imps simply stared at her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Lyla hurried into the living room, leaving small puddles wherever she stepped with her bare feet. She grabbed her spell book and flipped through pages, not even caring as her wet fingers smudged some of the delicate lettering. She distractedly wiped her hand on the towel around her, then resumed flipping through the book. Things were getting out of hand. She had to figure out how to reverse the spell.

But as Lyla sat there poring over her book, she started to feel chilly. With her damp hair and her state of undress, it wasn’t surprising. She glanced toward the kitchen, where she could see Impy standing on a stool in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot he had there. Greeny stood beside him, watching intently. Lyla lightly shook her head.

She got up and went to her bedroom, hurriedly pulling on some clothes. She paused at her mirror, laying her hands against her abdomen. The curve protruding there made her look five months pregnant already.

“Gods,” she breathed. It seemed like things were progressing faster this time around. Then again, she probably shouldn’t have assumed that there would be any consistency. Magic was known to be arbitrary and erratic. Even the individual imps appeared unique, each different in color, frame, and likely in temperament as well. They were probably even growing at different rates, and to different sizes. Lyla ran her hand down her face, feeling completely overwhelmed.

She grimaced at the uncomfortable tightness of the bra she was wearing. She pulled off her T-shirt, frowning down at the way her bra was too tight, pinching into her skin. She took it off, instead retrieving a tank top from her dresser. As she donned this, she found it tight against her, but not painful. It was stretchy enough to curve with her body. Lyla pulled a hoodie on over it. Paired with the leggings and flip-flops she had already put on, she returned to the living room.

Lyla was surprised to see a fire crackling under the mantle, especially considering the fact that her living room hadn’t had a fireplace prior to that moment. She briefly stared at it, then wrenched her attention away. Lying on the coffee table were some of the things that Impy must have brought in from her car. Lyla lifted one of the pregnancy tests and sighed. After she cured herself, she could at least make sure that it didn’t recur.

She had two imps. Well, three, if she counted the one growing inside her.

Goodness, that was two more than necessary. Probably three more than necessary. She should have never messed around with magic.

Lyla plopped down on the couch and went back to studying her books, trying to ignore the way her body was progressively growing as the minutes ticked by, and she tried not to panic. Impy, and now Greeny, would come by often, trying to attend to her in some way or another. She would have honestly appreciated their servility, had she not been so stressed out. She kept shooing them away, but they did not give up on pampering her and feeding her, brushing her hair, putting creams on her arms, or giving her shoulder massages.

Lyla gulped down the latest morsel stuffed into her mouth. She decided to tolerate them as long as she could keep researching. A spoonful of something sweet and syrupy was shoved into her mouth. Lyla distractedly gulped it down, wondering if it was a nectar of some sort.

She couldn’t deny that it felt nice. Greeny’s hands were magical, as he worked out the knots in her back with his chubby fingers.

Now Impy was feeding her these strange imp pastries. Each was soft and gooey, sticky and sweet, so strange and unique, yet the most divine things she had ever tasted. He fed her one after the next, Lyla’s eyelids sinking as she moaned in pleasure and momentarily forgot what she was doing. She swallowed, then licked her lips, feeling stuffed yet still craving more of it.

She nearly choked as something warm and bitter was poured down her throat. She opened her eyes to see Greeny standing there, clutching a large jug of purple fluid. Half of it had been emptied into her mouth or onto the front of her sweatshirt. She lightly pushed him away as she caught her breath. “Enough!” she snapped.

The imps stared blankly.

She’d finally had it! Lyla shooed the creatures as she got up, shoving her living room furniture awkwardly as she registered how slow she had gotten. And how large.

The imps reluctantly helped as Lyla grunted in her efforts to push the couch against the wall. She already looked as if she was eight months pregnant by then, and she had started waddling. Lyla breathed heavily as she got her chalk.

Lyla clutched her belly as she gingerly knelt down, doing her best to scrawl runes across the floor. She had to pause as a surge of tension left her groaning, her face twisting as her belly strained and tightened, filling with pressure until it shuddered and inched forward. Lyla gasped for breath. She looked down at her sweater straining against her, as she lay her hands against her orb. Suddenly, she looked as though she was at term.

After she finished the runes, it took Lyla some effort to get up, her back stinging with tension. Once on her feet, she absently rubbed the side of her belly. She admired her handiwork, feeling refreshingly confident. This would work! She was certain it would. The work was so brilliant, Lyla though it might even reverse her latest, ongoing imp-pregnancy.

She raised her arms and started the incantation, the air seeming to fill with thick, potent magic. Soon the room was glowing with prickles of starlight that appeared simultaneously within her reach and endlessly far away.

Electricity snapped and prickled, lights flickering on and off, the whole atmosphere shuddering as it was filled to bursting with power. Everything stilled – she marveled at the darkness that swallowed the whole world. It was just her and this beautiful power.

Another shudder, then everything contracted, snapping back in one sharp instant; shooting toward her. Lyla wheezed as it slammed right into her body. She folded over, hugging herself, trembling and groaning, her insides lurching.

“Fuhhhhh…” She struggled to breathe.

Her belly bubbled and writhed, her imps watching on in her periphery. She clutched the pulsing, tight protrusion, as it pushed harder against her straining sweatshirt. The hem inched upwards as she swelled and grew. She staggered a step, but then fell to her knees. Full to the brim, the magic raging inside of her.

She gasped for breath as things settled down, aside from the occasional gurgling noise. Lyla stared down at herself in silent horror. She looked as though she was overdue with twins by then!

Impy and Greeny chittered quietly amongst themselves as they shuffled over like indifferent spectators. They poked and prodded at her massive swell. It lurched and shivered as though in response. Lyla groaned.

Somehow she managed to crawl to the couch, gripping onto it for leverage as she heaved herself up from the floor. She slumped against the squishy cushions as she panted, dropping her head back. She fidgeted uncomfortably against the heavy weight on her hips. The pregnancies were so sudden and overwhelming, she didn’t know how to adjust. Her body was depleted.

Lyla fought against the urge to doze, knowing that she had to handle this, whatever that meant in this bizarre scenario. She felt dizzy, her skin still prickling from the assault of pressure. She rubbed absently at her belly as sweat beaded on her forehead.

She didn’t think she could focus enough to go back to the book. At this size, she expected she would give birth at any moment.

But she didn’t.

Moments passed as her breathing evened out and she was steadily able to relax her taut muscles. Impy dabbed some sweat from her forehead as she endured the squirming movement inside of her. She tensed and grunted as her belly quavered. “I don’t know what to do,” she croaked.

Greeny appeared with more of those delicious pastries. Just the sight of them made Lyla realize how hungry she was, and she didn’t refuse as Greeny started to feed her, stuffing the treats between her lips, one after the other. Her hands continued to rest on her swollen midsection, her sweatshirt having been pushed so high that it had been rendered a midriff top.

The sound of her doorbell jolted Lyla out of her reverie. She blinked around, breathing heavily. She shifted a little, groaning in discomfort, her abdomen fully packed with food and imp-baby.

The doorbell rang several more times, rather obnoxiously. Lyla heaved herself up with a groan of effort – teetering, then gripping the back of the couch for balance. Impy and Greeny sent her remonstrating looks, displeased that she was on her feet. Lyla huffed and clutched the front of her belly, adjusting her hips and gaining her balance.

God, it all so heavy on her pelvis and loins, and it didn’t even seem natural at this size. She was a small woman. The mound overwhelmed her. Though disinclined to move, she shuffled despite herself, toward the doorway. It wasn’t as though she had any better ideas.

Lyla moaned as she strained to look through the peephole, her overpacked abdomen pressing hard against the door. She blinked at who she saw, then stepped away, clutching her back with one hand. She opened the door just a crack and said,

“Yes?”

“I want to talk,” responded a gruff voice. It was David, her ex.

“It’s a bad time,” Lyla said flatly. She winced at a sudden pang of sensation deep in her belly.

“What the hell is going on with you? For fuck’s sake, your car’s across your lawn!”

Lyla threw a glare at Impy, as though it was his responsibility to park her vehicle. Impy chittered in response, throwing his arms up in indignation.

“None of your busin—” Lyla’s response was cut off by a grunt as pain twisted inside her, followed by a sharp spasm. She grimaced and breathed through the contraction. “Fuck off,” she managed as she tried to close the door. To her frustration, David was holding it open.

“I just want to talk,” David said.

Lyla pressed her lips tightly together, trying and failing to contain the whine coming up her throat. Things always progressed so forcefully and rapidly. She couldn’t deal with David right now. She started to panic.

She sent her imps an entreating look. To her relief, Impy stepped forward to handle David.

But with a blithe wave of his hand and a tingle of magic, Impy did the opposite.

The door vanished.

Comments

Phat94

Come for the sexy preggo, stay for the funny imps