Spiders, Part 6 (Patreon)

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Summary: Scientists attempt to breed a species of tiny alien spiders in Cona's breasts. Contains: Female: breast impregnation, breast expansion, lactation, multiple characters, belly expansion, egg laying, unbirthing, alien pregnancy/bug pregnancy.

Previous Chapter

-

Sana drank thirstily from the thermos of heavy cream she’d brought to work with her that day. After finishing it in only a few massive gulps, she lowered it to her desk, trying to catch her breath.

She was spending most of her time behind her desk as of late. She’d keep her head bowed and mutter about paperwork as the other scientists went about their experiments.

Her abdomen was growing frighteningly fast. The muscle relaxants seemed to keep the movement at a minimum, and the growth depressors barely worked – but she continued to take them, because the prospect that they were working kept her duly alarmed. Unfortunately for Sana, in just another few days, the appetite depressors didn’t seem to have any affect at all.

She pulled another thermos out of her desk.

She found herself ravenous, and constantly. Her appetite usually drew her toward syrups, dairy products, and other heavy saturated fats. But then, she wasn’t opposed to virtually anything else. If there was food in the vicinity, her heart would pound and her stomach would growl. Going even a half hour without a snack left her hunched with terrible hunger pains. Sana had found that cream seemed to reliably satiate the – egg. The heaviest of creams, with so much added butter and sugar, she was practically gulping down pudding.

Sana lifted the thermos to her lips.

As for solid foods, she’d taken to eating several meals throughout the day, like – eugh – a pregnant woman, just to survive. But these “small meals” were getting larger and larger alongside her gut, until they were just short of full course ones.

That morning, when she’d stared at herself in her bedroom mirror, and realized her condition was becoming increasingly blatant, she had decided she would soon announce a leave from work. She would take a week off and bury her efforts in finding a cure, just as long as the others didn’t catch on and take the situation upon themselves.

She was already pushing her luck, appearing to work with her increasingly feeble attempts to hide her abdomen. The mound was beginning to tent out even the largest of her lab coats. She could have passed as six months pregnant by then!

Even more alarming, one of the new sonograms had revealed that her uterus and stomach had fused somehow. They were now one in the same, meaning that whatever she ate went directly to the creature inside of her.

And it was only getting larger.

Sana shuddered as she continued to glare at her paperwork.

She heard as a few other scientists entered the lab and lowered her head, her midsection concealed by the desk. From the corner of her vision, she watched them mutter amongst themselves, pulling a wheelchair out of a supply closet.

She stiffened.

As she heard the mention of “Cona,” she understood. They were going to get the subject. The woman was probably incapacitated by her condition at that point. Sana cringed as she deliberated the size Cona’s breasts were by then.

Eric and another scientist went off, the former grinning wickedly. They returned with the subject only fifteen minutes later, and Sana was surprised to see that the wheelchair had been left behind. In their wake followed a – walking – Cona.

Sana stared in shock. She had not expected the subject to be stable, functional, and even possibly smaller than she had been during their last examination of her.

Looking weary, Cona clutched her beach ball-sized breasts the best she could as she trudged after her superiors. Perfectly round, bloated and fat, her breasts bulged out at her flanks, bobbing about in her tight uniform, puffy aerola prominent even through her clothes, topped off by apple-sized nipples.

Cona was offered a chair, and she carefully lowered herself, breasts plopping onto her lap, but still perched just under her chin. At the rate she had been going, Sana would have expected Cona to be twice that size by now. What was the cause of the sudden stability in her growth?

Eric quickly proceeded with a sonogram. He unzipped Cona’s spandex uniform, which practically flung away from her, revealing her flushed, sweaty flesh and massive, impeccable globes. Eric performed the screening, smirking in response to Cona’s uncontrolled moans, and her gigantic, swelling nipples. Behind them, the other scientists murmured amongst themselves, furiously taking notes.

Sana couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that overcame her as Cona was cleaned up and zipped back into her uniform. As Eric and the other scientists murmured quietly amongst themselves, Sana reluctantly got up from behind her desk to take part in the conversation. She hunched awkwardly in a vain effort to hide her condition, hoping the others were too absorbed in Cona’s condition to notice her.

“The spider population is shrinking,” Eric murmured.

There were hushed whispers, all overlapping each other.

“What could be the cause of this?” said another scientist in concern.

“Why does it matter?” Sana said. “The spiders are a dangerous and unstable species. This should be celebrated.”

But Sana was ignored.

“Maybe dehydration,” someone murmured.

“Malnutrition,” another said.

It did make sense. The spiders were probably hoarding all Cona’s consumed nutrients. Sana was experiencing this issue first-hand.

“Maybe her body isn’t producing enough milk to keep up with the spider population,” someone said.

“All these things can be remedied,” said Eric. Stepping away from the group, he returned to Cona and ordered her to follow him. Cona managed to rise with some difficulty. Clutching her bobbing breasts, she struggled to keep up with Eric, panting audibly with her movements. The other scientists, Sana included, trailed after them to one of the experimentation rooms.

“I had anticipated something like this happening,” said Eric, as he ushered Cona to a new chair. The room was empty except for a tank. The tank had a console with several buttons, and a long, thin hose.

Sana unconsciously folded her arms over her abdomen. “What is that?” she said suspiciously.

“Just a nutritional supplement,” said Eric, shadily. “Complete with weight gainers.”

Sana’s eyes widened. “You can’t-”

“Watch me,” Eric cut her off, taking the hose, and sticking it in Cona’s mouth. Sana stared on, lips parted. She was in no condition to physically stop Eric, and didn’t want to draw any further attention to herself. She fumed when none of the other scientists protested.

Flicking a switch on the tank, the machine began to hum. Sana watched Cona’s eyes widen as compacted food gunk was forced into her mouth from the hose. Under the watch of the scientists, Cona gulped down each mouthful, looking increasingly worried with every swallow. She feebly clutched her breasts, making grunting noises every now and then. After ten minutes, a panicked look filled her eyes, as if she realized she was nowhere near finished.

Sana left the room. She couldn’t watch anymore. She had the suspicion her colleagues weren’t above doing such a thing to her, were she in Cona’s shoes, and this made her even more determined to avoid them.

It wasn’t for another hour until Sana saw Cona being released. Cona staggered unsteadily past Sana’s desk, flushed and panting, face wet with sweat, and a bit of the supplement on her chin. One hand held her mouth, while her free one clutched what she could of her wobbling breasts. They looked slightly plumper following the feeding. Her nipples were protruding in an almost painful-looking way, and the woman looked undeniably nauseous. Sana stared in silence as she departed.

-

Cona spent the next morning resting in her room.

Propped on a pile of pillows, she watched her nipples gently pulsate.

She was producing eggs less frequently, to her relief. Just a large one or two every once in a while.

She didn’t understand the purpose of the force-feeding session, but she was scheduled to endure another one that afternoon. She shuddered.

It wasn’t that the gunk being pumped into her mouth was intolerable. And it wasn’t as though her stomach couldn’t take it.

Her stomach had actually been bothering her lately. It was slightly soft and swollen now.

Her breasts, meanwhile, seemed the same size they had been the previous few days, if not a little smaller. She absently squeezed at one, then released a slight groan.

Her hand slid to her stomach as it grumbled. Groaning, she forced herself to a sitting position and climbed out of her bed. Padding into the kitchenette and opening the fridge, the first thing she could think to grab was the milk jug.

Seating herself at the table, her bloated busom perched upon it, Cona navigated the jug around the mounds, to her lips, and began to thirstily drink.

-

Over the next week, the scientists sent for Cona every day, and each feeding session was followed with increased disappointment. It was not working, and Cona’s breasts were still getting smaller. The spider population within each of them was diminishing rapidly.

Cona was, however, developing some stomach weight, though it was to be expected, considering the heavy calorie intake she was being subjected to.

Sana was distraught.

She numbly watched as Cona got smaller and smaller with each day. Cona’s miraculous improvement should have given Sana hope, but it only made her feel worse about her own predicament. Her egg was showing no sign of weakening or dying. In fact, it was only growing.

That evening, Sana angrily stuffed a muffin into her mouth as she flipped through her notes. Cona’s problems were inexplicably fixing themselves, and in Sana’s efforts to help her, she had gotten herself into a bigger mess.

Her eating binges were getting bigger and messier. She called in sick to work repetitively in her efforts to hide her condition, though this only seemed to have an adverse effect on things.

When Sana was in her quarters, she was free to eat to her contentment, and lately she felt as though she was absolutely starving. She would eat eggs, milk, ice cream, yogurt, puddings, butter, cheeses, creams, whipped toppings, mayonnaise, sour cream – anything with a high fat content – and anything at all! She would eat while researching, studying, watching television, doing paperwork, even when examining her condition, or giving herself her daily injections. She thought raising her top and staring at her bare belly would give her incentive to slow down, but it only seemed to make her eat all the faster, her belly pushing out accordingly. Sometimes she would suck down bottles of syrup, moaning all the while, her free hand clutching her abdomen as her clothes stretched at the seams. She would watch her blouses tighten against her throughout a single day until diamonds of skin had developed between her buttons by the time she was due to retire for the night.

By then she would be breathing heavily, flushed, sweaty, and regretting her actions as she endured the chronic pressure that now filled her.

Mornings, she would struggle to button her uniforms, which just seemed smaller and smaller. That day, Sana noticed that her belly button was now protruding outwards. She stared at it, holding her navel. She was going to need a bigger lab coat.

Sana was reluctant to go to work that day, but if she called out again, it would result in a formal inquisition from the higher-ups. If anything, spending the day in the office would keep her apart from the contents of her refrigerator. So with a sigh, Sana left her quarters.

She arrived earlier than everyone else and parked herself behind her desk, chair lowered so that the entirety of her belly was hidden beneath the desktop. The paperwork in her drawers had been replaced with snacks, so Sana spent the morning gobbling down donuts, ignoring as the other scientists arrived one by one and went about their business.

“Hey.”

Sana looked up to notice that two of her colleagues had approached her.

“What’s going on with you?” one asked, gesturing to her torso. He had undoubtedly noticed her bloatedness at some point or another.

Sana thought fast. “I’m...pregnant,” she mentioned, forcing a smile.

“Yes, but with what?”

Sana gasped as someone pulled her chair out, with her still in it. She turned to see Eric, two others meanwhile taking hold of her arms. They proceeded to drag her across the room, ignoring her protests.

“Be careful!” Sana cried as she was forced onto an examination table, then strapped down at her chest and thighs. Her lab coat was unbuttoned and her top pulled up to reveal the entirety of her swollen belly.

Sana held her breath as the other scientists marveled at her for a moment. They spurted some gel onto her belly, and John proceeded with an ultrasound.

“It’s an...egg,” he said, at last.

Sana gulped. “There was an accident,” she forced out, trying not to sound too concerned. “A few weeks ago. Nothing serious.”

“A few weeks? This thing is eight inches in diameter.”

She frowned. It had been seven the last time she had checked. John began to tug her top higher. “What are you-?”

John exposed her breasts, and unceremoniously unclasped the front latch of her bra. Sana glared, her face burning.

“She’s a viable host,” Robert noted.

“Maybe we can implant some spiders in her,” another said.

“What!?” snapped Sana.

John massaged one of her breasts. “Are you lactating?”

She tried to ignore as he teased and squeezed her small nipples. “You already have a Cona—” she managed out.

“Cona is no longer suitable.”

Sana paled. “So you just intend to switch from host to host? How could that possibly be productive?”

“It will keep them alive for as long as possible. As long as we have a colony of them available, they can be bred and studied.”

Sana struggled against her binds, but froze when she felt the egg tremble.

Eric stood slightly away from the others, watching John with a sour look on his face. He seemed to be disappointed that he wasn’t the one examining Sana’s breasts.

John moved on to Sana’s sonogram. “The spiders seem to live in an utter breeding frenzy. They’ll do anything in their power to multiply. They’ll probably impregnate anyone. Anything.

“What are you going to do to me?” Sana asked, teeth grit.

John turned away, thoughtful.

“Let’s put her on 24-hour observation to get an idea of the growth rate of this egg.”

Cona could do nothing as her colleagues tightened her restraints and began to strap monitors to her belly. It was going to be a long night.