Slugs II, Part 7 - Female Version (Patreon)

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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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When Cona entered the meeting room, her clients and some employees were already seated around the large, rectangular table, waiting for her. Eyes bulged as Cona’s massive girth preceded her into the room. Cona’s blouse was skin-tight and offered poor coverage, skin bulging out between the straining buttons, her bloated flesh pushing out from beneath the hem. The sensation of the fabric squeezing her left Cona sweating and breathless. As she eased herself down into her chair at the head of the table, she withheld a groan as the cotton shirt material tightened around her even more. Her belly pressed into her lap and disappeared beneath the table, though the damage was already done, at least based on the shocked expressions around the table. Cona tried her best to maintain what composure she had. She left her blazer in place, not that it offered much, in terms of coverage. She didn’t notice that her upper most button was undone—she had been more focused on the lower buttons—and her flushed cleavage was on display, her round C-cup breasts straining the fabric, her hard nipples sticking out against the material.

Cona shuffled some of the papers set before her. She cleared her throat. “So who’s starting?” she said, deciding that she would take a back seat role in this deal.

There was a full minute of silence as everyone continued to gawk at Cona. Finally, Cona’s young employee, Jenkins, snapped out of his reverie. “Erm, yes, I would like to start by introducing the Hendricksons to our clause, dictating that…”

Cona tried her best to focus on the discussion around the table, but the thing inside of her—the fat slug—it lurched, causing her cheeks to redden, and her pussy lips to tingle, swollen as they felt in her tight leggings. Deeply breathing, Cona rubbed her belly beneath the table. The slug gave another powerful lurch. “Nrrghh…” Cona groaned, feeling her belly button twitch as her loins seeped. She struggled not to lose control.

Cona opened her eyes when she realized that the room had gone silent following her groan. All eyes were again on her. Cona nonchalantly took a sip of water. “Where were we?”

Roger, another employee, cleared his throat. “Yes, we were just getting into…” And so the discussion went on.

From there, the slug continued to twitch and shift, but nothing too powerful. Cona continued to rub large circles on her belly, desperately hoping it would calm down. Maybe it was hungry. God, she was hungry. Cona’s eyes shifted to the large basket of untouched bagels in the center of the table, with cream cheese, butter, jelly, and some meat toppings. There was a box of donuts beside it.

As her clients and employees continued to discuss the deal, Cona lifted a paper plate and pulled the basket of bagels over to her. She tried to be discreet as she loaded a bagel up with three inches of cream cheese and worked her way through it, sucking down every crumb. She grabbed a second bagel, this time packing it with butter. Every so often, someone would give Cona a nervous glance, but Cona had relinquished any control she might have had prior to her first bite. She was ravenous. She stuffed her face with a third, a fourth, and a fifth bagel, her belly tightening, and increasing the strain on her tightly-packed shirt.

There was a popping noise, and some of the tension disappeared. Cona became aware that one of her shirt buttons had finally snapped off. She could feel her swollen belly button and several inches of her bloated flesh pushing out into the cool air beneath the table. Cona looked around, though no one else seemed to notice that she was bursting out of her clothes. Cona lowered her latest, half-eaten bagel as she saw that the meeting was wrapping up.

“Thank you so much, sir,” Jenkins was saying as he shook Mr. Hendrickson’s hand. “You will not be disappointed.”

As the meeting ended, and everyone began to stand up one by one, Cona remained planted to her seat. She leaned up slightly, if just to shake hands with the Hendricksons, her belly pressing more heavily into hip as she awkwardly shifted. At the curious looks her clients gave at her apparent rudeness, Cona patted the pile of papers before her. “I just want to go over the contracts one more time. Make sure everything is in order.” She winked.

The Hendricksons gave Cona grateful smiles, before they joined her employees in filtering out of the room, until Cona was alone there. Cona breathed a sigh of relief. Her belly heaved up and down as she struggled to breathe. Another button popped.

Cona felt the mass of her belly. She was getting huge. She had to get out of there, but was having trouble thinking of a discreet way to go about it. Additionally, her attention kept shifting to the untouched box of donuts in the center of the table.

The ringing of her cell phone momentarily snapped Cona’s attention away from the donuts. Reaching into her blazer pocket, Cona pulled out her phone and saw that it was Misty calling. Taking a gulp, Cona answered. “Hi Misty…”

“Cona, I was expecting you last night. What’s going on?”

“I ended up staying the night at work, and then I had a big meeting, so—”

“How are things looking?” Misty cut her off. “Did you manage to maintain the size we discussed?”

“God, I…” said Cona weakly. “I can’t…stop eating.” Again, her eyes drifted to the donuts in the center of the table.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” said Misty firmly. “Be outside in five minutes.”

Cona blinked. “Misty, I look like a mess. I’m bursting out of my clothes.” Cona reddened. “I can’t let my employees see me like this. We have to wait—”

“Five minutes,” Misty reiterated. Then the line went dead.

Cona breathed deeply, in and out. Tearing her eyes away from the pastries, she pushed back her chair, and she tightly gripped onto the edge of the table. “Nrrgghhhh…” she groaned, as she heaved herself onto her feet. Her belly pushed outward, another two buttons popping off to free her mound of constriction. And then she marveled at it. She estimated that she looked due with triplets, though she wasn’t too sure. Cona gasped for breath as she absently rubbed at the underside of her mound. It was completely round, but not hard. More like bloated and fatty. Her back felt tense, and her hips were aching badly. Her pants felt extremely tight, especially in the seat. Meanwhile the lower half of her shirt was open, leaving her belly exposed.

Cona grabbed some of the papers on the table before her, and awkwardly held them to her belly, though they didn’t offer much coverage. She started for the door, where she noticed that her gait was more awkward than ever.

This was partly because her belly seemed slightly lower. It had dropped somewhat, at least an inch or two, and was putting more strain than ever on her pelvis. Did that mean it was time? Maybe she hadn’t gone too far after all. Taking a deep breath, Cona exited the meeting room.

Thankfully, no clients were present, just her employees, who were absolutely gawking at her, jaws hanging slack. Cona ignored them, and made a bee-line to the door, somehow waddling her way through her humiliation. She exited the office building just as she saw Misty’s beat-up sedan pull up to the curb.

Cona made her way towards it, now panting. She could see Misty’s face through the window. The scientist didn’t look pleased or optimistic…just stunned. It didn’t seem like a good thing. Cona opened the passenger side door, and hesitated, not certain that her mound could negotiate the cramped space.

Misty quickly leaned down and adjusted the seat back as far as it could go. Cona eased her body in, though it was still tight. She leaned back in the chair and tried to catch her breath. “S-slowly,” she entreated, as she clutched her mound.

The fact that even Misty was staring at her made Cona’s heart sink. Now she knew she was too big. But if she couldn’t birth this thing, how was she going to get rid of it?

“We have to act fast,” said Misty, redirecting her eyes to the road. She pulled off of the curb. “We don’t have much time.”

As they drove off, Cona struggled to contain her feelings of nausea and arousal, as well as the strange, increasing pressure within her pelvis. It wasn’t long before they were back at the house, and Misty was helping Cona down into the basement apartment.

“Just give me a…a minute,” said Cona, feeling breathless still. She clutched her bobbing mound with both hands and waddled to her bedroom, where she sat on the bed and took several moments to breathe. She looked down at her clothes, which were sticky with sweat.

Cona removed the remnants of her shirt, and eased herself out of her pants. She leaned down to her night stand, where she pulled out a large T-shirt she generally used as a pajama top. Cona slid it on, and it was tight, as expected. But it was dry at least. It stretched down over half of her belly, which was actually impressive.

Cona then slid into a short spandex skirt that was again tight at her backside. She suspected that her posterior had grown some more, though she didn’t really want to see just how much.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Come in,” said Cona, feeling somewhat composed again.

Misty walked in. Cona was surprised, and also embarrassed, to see that Misty was accompanied by a slim young man with rectangular glasses.

“Cona, this is my assistant, Tim. He will be helping us throughout the next steps.”

“Well, great,” said Cona miserably. She self-consciously tugged at the bottom of her shirt. Tim’s eyes had darted straight down to her bulging navel.

Misty approached, pulling a needle out of the pocket of her lab coat as she did. “Now Cona, if you roll up your sleeve, I will administer the induction drug.”

Cona paled. “Wait, you mean…to induce? N-now? A-aren’t we going to go over everything? I thought we were going to discuss it.”

“I know you’re nervous Cona,” said Misty, looking truly uneasy at that moment. “But the bigger the slug grows, the harder it will be. We need to do this now.”

Cona felt exhausted from her day and a half stuck at work. She truly couldn’t imagine trying to give birth to this thing now, not in her current state. Yet Cona had never seen Misty so steadfast about anything. This must have been really serious. And so, gulping, Cona gave a slight nod. She rolled up her shirt sleeve, closed her eyes, and soon felt the needle piecing into her flesh.

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