Spiders, Part 10 (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

-

Xirosyline was a natural pregnancy hormone extracted from Ashartians. It was the hormone responsible for their sheer ability to give birth. The alien grew such large fetuses, they couldn’t even eat in the later stages of pregnancy. They relied on the hormone to loosen their joints and stretch their ligaments to enable them to give birth.

Sana wasn’t sure why she had never thought of it. She wasn’t sure if the drug was even safe or effective on her own biology.

But she had to try something. It was her only chance.

Sana sat at her desk, a tourniquet wrapped around her left arm, and a syringe, filled with Xirosyline, in her right. She hesitated, her hand trembling slightly. Then she plunged the needle into her vein.

The effects were immediate.

There was a forceful surge of pressure on her gut and in her loins. She groaned and arched, her bones aching and joints stretching. Her abdomen felt heavier than ever and she needed to stand—it was a struggle, her face red and body squirming as she groaned, cried out, and fought to her feet, at which point the pain peaked, everything shoving downwards at once. Sana threw back her head and screamed.

Her shaking fingers grasped feebly at the desk, as her body quavered, and she sobbed, her belly heaving in fitful jerks. Just when she thought she might collapse under her own weight, there was a strange suspension in activity. Sana waited a moment, but the pain was gone, and so was the pressure, her quivering, sweaty body the only evidence that it had ever existed.

It wasn’t enough, Sana thought impatiently, already rummaging in a desk drawer, pulling out another vial. She removed the cap with her teeth, and dipped the needle inside, withdrawing another dose. She flicked out the bubbles. A second treatment was more than she would advise on anyone. It was effectively an overdose. She hardly understood how her body would metabolize it. It could kill her for all she knew.

But the egg could kill her as well. In fact, that was a certainty.

Sana plunged the needle into her arm, crying out as the pain and tension surged even more forcefully than before. This time she felt her knees giving way, felt herself sinking.

She felt like liquid, but she was determined to push. She had to.

Looking down at her body, it seemed like a lost cause. The egg was just too massive. It was larger than she was. It would break her.

“Nggghhhh…” Sana groaned and twitched as the mound shoved hard against her pelvis. She felt her bones ache and contort, felt her muscles writhing. Her hips ached and opened as she whimpered and gripped what she could reach of the desk top. The pressure just sunk lower and lower, until her arms resigned their efforts of holding her up, and she found herself flat on the back, crying, groaning, jerking, her body thrusting in forceful throbs as it tried to eject the too-large egg in her pelvis.

It sunk another few inches, causing her to grunt out. She couldn’t have closed her legs had she tried as her fat lips ached and spread, and her opening felt impossibly tight, felt like she would split right open.

And then the egg advanced. Sana took gasping breaths. She felt—felt it crowning, and released a hoarse wail, hardly caring if she woke up everyone in that section of the spaceship.

It was—advancing. It was actually working.

Before she was entirely submerged in the delirium of pain, Sana flashed an anticipatory grin.

-

Things on the ship were getting rather odd.

Several of the female aliens, and even some of the males onboard, had developed some measure of breast growth. Aliens who weren’t ordinarily even supposed to develop breast fat were growing mounds of pudge behind their nipples. Some mere anthills that were barely detectable beneath their clothes, while others had quickly developed plump, fat, melon-sized mounds of fat, bulging out of their uniforms, bobbing on their torsos.

It seemed to be impacting people regardless of species. One of the plutonians, who had eight nipples along her chest, was rapidly developing eight fat breasts along her torso, all of which were struggling to bulge out of her clothes.

Cona felt almost resigned by the way things had changed.

She had gone from being the bustiest humanoid onboard, with huge, bouncing jugs that all the men drooled over, to flat-chested and just—fat. She didn’t know what had happened to her, but it was undoubtedly from the varying treatments she had gotten in the lab.

To say she was flat-chested, was probably an exaggerative claim. Cona still had fat EE’s on her chest, nipples bulging almost obscenely. And it still looked ludicrous and wonderful on her otherside narrow frame.

But now to accompany them was a fat belly, round and full. If made her look as though she was pregnant—rather heavily so. And she couldn’t have been, because all of the tests she had taken had turned up negative. Cona’s mound was soft and squishy rather than firm, yet it was still so round, and still stuck out blatantly from her body.

She hated it. She despised her newfound lethargy, her inclinations for indulging in fatty foods—especially dairy. She cornered her full-length mirror daily and anguished over her form. How could something that had been so perfect go so wrong, and so quickly?

Cona was so absorbed in her appearance, she hardly noticed the tiny cracking noises of eggshells breaking apart, the spider creatures within crawling free, out of her room, in search of more sources of food.

The newborn spiders had steadily developed immunity to air through the continued exposure in their porous shells, and they were going to take full advantage of it.

-

Eric’s appetite was swelling.

In fact, he had developed a little bit of a beer gut.

It was to be expected. He found himself eating like a slob the past few days. In fact, he was snacking constantly. His hunger was out of control lately.

But what had started off as a little beer gut was rapidly getting out of control.

He had a real gut, like a rounded ball of a mound, and it was attached to his torso. Weird in its solitary nature. Round and plump and uncomfortable. The rest of his body remained entirely slim. He was beginning to look as though he was pregnant.

And it was as this thought struck him, that Eric began to panic.

He had to deal with this early and aggressively. It was his only hope.

He decided to treat it like a cancer. His body was being invaded. Eric snuck back into the lab one night, laid back on a table, and treated himself with several doses of suda-ray. It was the most modern form of radiation. The ray was entirely safe and had a near one-hundred percent success rate.

Eric groaned as he experienced the final session, and he lay there breathless for a while, as he recovered from the heat and energy. He would do a few more sessions, and hopefully the swelling would go down as his body was rid of the parasites that were likely occupying it.

He lightly shook his head, somewhat disgusted by his carelessness. No. This was Sana’s fault. Undoubtedly.

Eric laid back for a while, staring at the ceiling. He must have dozed off, because when he awoke, he heard footsteps and voices approaching, and the synthetic sunlight was just beginning to beam in the faintest waves down on him.

It was early morning, and his colleges were beginning to come in. Eric quickly pulled down his shirt and rolled off the table. He had just managed to push the suda-machine aside, when the lab door opened, and John, Simon, and Mike walked in, all dressed for work, some papers in hand. They started at seeing Eric.

“You’re here early,” John noted monotonously.

Eric realized how disheveled he must have looked, and hastily wracked his fingers though his hair. But then he halted and quickly folded his arms over his waist, regretful that he didn’t have a bulky lab coat to throw around his shoulders. As things were, his belly was stretching out his shirt.

Behind Mike and Simon, the door banged opened violently, and thankfully distracted everyone’s attention from Eric.

“Oh,” said Sana, as she walked into the room. “I was hoping I’d catch you, John.” She was pushing a stroller, of all things.

She was pushing the stroller quite easily, and Eric realized that her stomach was no longer massively swollen. He shifted his attention to the stroller, within which was perched the largest egg Eric had ever seen. He slowly smirked. So the drug worked. He leered at Sana, as if to communicate, you owe me one.

Sana ignored him. “For you, John,” she said, pushing the stroller to knock into the man’s legs.

Mike and Simon stepped back, but John stood solid, staring blankly at he massive, round egg.

“The scientific implications are endless,” Sana mocked, turning on her heel. She was still quite pleasantly busty, and rather chubby in the midsection, but Eric didn’t mind it, he liked this softness. “I’ve already submitted my resignation.” And with that, Sana was gone.

“Ballsy,” Eric said. Their overseers would not be pleased by her mutiny.

“It is none of my concern,” John said, his eyes still pinned to the egg. “Let’s get this thing to the scanner.”

-

As much as they examined and scanned the egg, the group of scientists learned no more about what was going on inside of it.

It was a long day of tedious testing and theorizing.

Eric went to bed feeling weary from boredom, his belly even more uncomfortably bloated. The lethargy was really becoming noticeable. He decided that he would do another suda-treatment session in the morning before work.

But he awoke in the middle of the night to a small commotion outside of his quarters. People were sobbing, screaming, and trampling around. “What the hell?” Eric began to get up, when his stomach gurgled, and lurched, in a weirdly powerful attack of indigestion. “Ughhhh…” He felt a wave of dizziness and thought he might throw up. His gut was writhing…no, actually writhing, he could see his skin pushing out in places, twisting, tapering. “Oh god,” he gasped out, before leaning over the bed to actually vomit. His belly swelled and sunk, swelled and sunk, throbbing forcefully, in a nightmarish image. “Oh, fuck!” They were going to burst right out of him. Strangely, his dick was hard, and he was more aroused than he had ever been in his life. He thought he was going to come.

But then the oddest of things happened. His dick thickened. Lengthened. It throbbed and grew in short pressurized bursts that were on the cusp of being painful. It took on an unsymmetrical, contorted appearance, as it continued to tense and swell, his face reddening and sweating as he struggled to bare it all.

“What the fuuhhh…oh…oh godd...” he groaned, reaching down, almost afraid to touch it. They were killing him, they were—“Unngghhh…uhh…nrrghhhhh!” He screamed out as the head finally burst with—with— “What the…eughhh!” He squirmed back, as something wiggled out of his cock, squeezing him painfully, as it compressed and squished out, long, and thick as his finger. It was a fucking worm! Eric fell off the bed, but then collapsed against his gut, which ached in protest, and his dick surged and sputtered out another of the horrifying creatures.

The spiders, he must have—he must have mutated them somehow with the suda-ray. He had to get out of there—had to get to the lab! Not caring that his shorts were halfway down his legs, Eric crawled to the door and reached for the knob, just managing to turn it as he was assaulted with another surge of painful pressure that make him squeeze his eyes shut, veins rising on his forehead. He practically fell into the hallway outside, and as he rolled over and looked up, he realized the chaos transpiring around him.