Insect Queen, Part 4 (Patreon)

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Summary: A young woman is injected with a serum by her vindictive ex who works in genetic engineering. Over time the woman begins to bloat up, her petite breasts becoming full and large, and strange developments beginning on her scalp, above her rear, and beneath her arms. Eventually she is forced to hide as she develops antennae, two more sets of arms, two more sets of breasts, and a large insect abdomen to supplement her bloated stomach. She begins to lay over a hundred eggs, but soon realizes her last coupling resulted in her becoming fertilized for life, and will lay more eggs every few months/weeks. Soon she is struggling to raise a horde of bug girls supported by the state, each clamoring for her milk. Plot Summary submitted by Fox Face.
Contains: Female: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, multiple breasts, egg laying, transformation, and more.

Previous Chapter

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When Lana awoke the following morning, she was sprawled in her bed covered in food wrappings as well as actual food spills that stained her sheets and mattress. Her mouth tasted very sweet, and her hands were sticky, as though she had fallen asleep abruptly when she had finished eating.

Odd that she couldn’t even remember the food binge, just vague instances—dialing numbers on her phone, several new deliveries mostly from bakeries, dragging it all back to her bed—indulging.

She breathed heavily, her legs fidgeting beneath her. While her original pair of hands were leaning against the mattress behind her, the secondary pair had slid up to cradle the large swell of her belly as it heaved with each breath in and out. God, it looked as though she was at term with child by then.

Lana climbed gingerly out of bed, and wobbled somewhat as she adjusted to her ever-shifting center of gravity. The weight of the tail—thing—behind her helped counter the weight of her belly somewhat. It was beginning to sort of swoop down behind her, perhaps resembling a fox tail, replacing the fox’s thick fur with fatty human flesh. And it was sensitive, as she ghosted it with her fingers and felt her whole body shudder. Electing not to touch it anymore for the time being, Lana awkwardly made her way to the bathroom, still acclimating to the evolving feel of her body.

The bathroom mirror was large and towering, and Lana took a moment to appraise herself. Her breasts were perky, all four of them. They sat high and round on her chest, stretching the T-shirt she was wearing, nipples bulging out visibly. The upper pair—EEs easily—was perched atop the lower pair, which looked closer to Ds than Cs by that point.

Lana turned to her side, where she could reflect not only on the way her protruding belly sat snuggly beneath her four full breasts, but also on the subtle ridges that were beginning to develop on the tail, and the way the skin had darkened somewhat, and how truly plump it looked.

Her antenna twitched. She pressed her lips and lightly shook her head.

She wanted to get cleaned up. To take a break from thinking about her body, if just for a moment.

Lana turned on the shower. She carefully began to ease her way out of her clothing, stretched and revealing though it was on her distorted body. She sighed as she climbed into the tub and felt the hot water beat against her tense muscles and sore back. Her new pair of hands continued to methodically rub her belly, seemingly glued to the firm, tight protrusion. She sighed and arched, feeding her joints to the steaming water.

Her belly shuddered forward.

Her knees nearly buckled beneath her. She found herself gripping the tile walls with all four of her arms. Her belly pumped and advanced as she released a low moan and sagged into the cool tiles, allowing the tense mound to press it, push into it, as she gasped, and it swelled, inching away from her body with gentle jerks that knocked the breath out of her lungs.

And abruptly it was over. Lana was still panting, struggling to regain her breath. She painstakingly eased herself down to sit on the tub edge, conscious of the way her belly pressed into her lap more firmly than before, while shoving up against her breasts more evidently than it had previously.

A rushed examination of the surface revealed that her belly button was now protruding outwards. Lana rubbed the mound with four hands in a desperate motion, oblivious of what was going inside her, but she was growing. God, she was growing.

It took a while for Lana to convince herself to get up. Towel clutched to her torso, she dragged herself back to her bathroom, and eased back on the bed, still stunned by how big she had gotten. She was uncomfortably huge. She looked as though she was at term with twins, past ready for birth. Lightly shaking her head, she glanced at her nightstand to notice a notification on her cellphone. She had a message.

Lana reached over and lifted her phone with two shaking hands. She unlocked the screen and grimaced at seeing that she had four missed calls from David. Reluctantly, she opened her voicemail and put the phone on speaker.

“Lana, I’m so so sorry,” David’s voice whined. “You must be scared. You probably have so many questions. With your pregnancy, I think—I think you’ve been more fertilized than any human is capable of. This thing may go on for a while, Lana. Months—years, even. You could have even been fertilized for life. You’re part bug now, Lana. Please talk to me. God, I just want to help.”

Lana closed the message, rather stunned by the things that had been said. It seemed like insanity. How could she be pregnant, let alone pregnant for years? None of it made sense.

She clenched the phone tightly in her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she opened her contacts and scrolled down to David’s name. She was just about to click the CALL button, when her belly gurgled, and a wave of hunger distracted her. It was so potent, she groaned, and hugged her abdomen. Yet she already knew there was no food left in her apartment.

Lana heaved herself off the bed and shifted her way over to the closet. She pulled out one of her outfits, a somewhat bigger size than most of the others, but still, undoubtedly, too small.

The tank top hugged her tightly, and pulled down only as far as her bulging belly-button. The black spandex skirt went down to her knees, but the waist offered little in terms of coverage. It was pushed low beneath her belly, leaving the mass to protrude freely.

All four of her breasts were evidently bulging in the taut material of the top. The tail pushed the skirt’s waistband even lower as it protruded above it.

Lana looked like an overall freak. Overwhelming as the hunger was, she tried to make herself presentable, because she didn’t think she could stand to wait the hour that it would take to order food and have it delivered to her place.

Lana pulled on a hat to hide her antenna, then a heavy shawl that her grandmother had sent several years back which Lana had never actually donned. The heaviness of the shawl clashed horribly with the sunny weather that day, but at least it covered up her extra breasts and arms. It even dipped low enough to conceal almost all of the hanging fat mass of the tail thing behind her.

Lana was waddling when she slowly made her way out of the apartment. She paused on the front steps and leaned on the doorframe, as much because of discomfort as it was because of anxiety. The tension in her belly seemed chronic now, yet ever shifting, in threat of peaking at any moment. Lana steeled herself and proceeded to walk. Her destination was the small grocery store just a few minutes from her residence.

Lana made it to the store without issue, though she could feel herself growing increasingly sluggish, having to stop and refocus repetitively, as her mind wandered from her hunger to her belly then back again. Lana got a cart and rolled it along, her breathing thinning as she hastily grabbed items off shelves, too anxious to really think much on them. She spent a lot of time in the snack section, adding cakes, cookies, and crackers to her cart. She lingered, again, by the icings and syrups of every flavor, unable to make any choices, so just grabbing up several of every type. Something would come over her when she was around food, and she was trying her best to control it, to tamp it down. When her cart was finally overflowing, items spilling onto the floor, Lana began to make her way towards the register, but it was just too much. The hunger consumed her.

Her hands reached down and tore off the wrappings on one of the syrup bottles, before she was stuffing the spout into her mouth, gulping rapidly, and already fingering a fresh bottle. Soon both were in her mouth and she was sucking two bottles simultaneously. Her lips stretched wide to accommodate both, maple and strawberry syrups filling her mouth, spilling over. Syrup trickled down her throat, into her cleavage, getting her clothes moist and sticky, pasting it like glue to her swollen form.

The clothing was too heavy, too hot. She shrugged off the shawl, ignoring the gasps around her, the way people pointed and murmured. Her nipples were large and keen, unnaturally swollen, protruding hard in her top. All four pairs were blatantly visible, bobbing slightly as Lana continued to desperately stuff food and substance into her mouth.

She rapidly demolished a loaf of bed, followed by a box of processed pastries packed with oily cream. She squeezed them out of the wrappings and directly into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged, but she managed to close her lips around a new bottle of syrup, which helped moisten everything, making it softer, easier to get down.

A jar of strawberry jam was next, then more baked products. She was gasping for breath. Her body felt hot, mounds pulsing.

Then the tension shot up, causing her to grunt and grip the handles of the cart. Lana hunched down, whimpering. Her tank top was sliding higher, and at first she thought she was having another growth spurt. But as she looked down at her mound, she could see that it wasn’t so much growing as it was changing shape. It shivered and tensed as her navel proceed, developing into a swelling point. Her abdomen as a whole was steadily taking on a conical shape as she gasped and cupped it, until she had a flushed tight torpedo throbbing on her midsection, looking ready to burst. Something was pushing, twisting inside her as she grunted, and stumbled. She soon found herself hunched on her knees over the mound as it shuddered, jerked, and threatened to touch the floor.

Then the tension eased. Muscles relaxed as her skin softened, belly widening to its previous state—wider—rising up and down with Lana’s gasping breaths. She could hardly take inventory of what was going on with the rest of her body, but the tail felt odd. Tingly. Itchy, almost. She reached behind her and felt it, wondering if it felt fatter. Wondering if the ridges weren’t deeper. Lana groaned lowly. It sounded animalistic, but it continued in a low hum. Her belly felt heavy and low on her pelvis. Her upper two arms reached up, gripping some shelves nearby. When her struggles continued, the other two shot up to aid in pulling her off the floor.

“Mmmmghhh,” she moaned, her lower arms cupping the underside of her belly, which felt plump and soft now, as though there was room for more growth. In her peripheral vision, she could see a small crowd of people surrounding her, all looking pale and astonished. A few had taken out their cell phones and were holding them up to record.

Her breasts felt strangely tight, like they were—full? And it was uncomfortable. She arched, focused, squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed the mounds outwards. Her breasts bulged over her neckline, so significantly that the upper pair popped completely free. She was rewarded with more gasps from her spectators. But Lana didn’t care. Nothing mattered to her anymore except for her fecund body.

“Ngghhhh…” she moaned again, arching, straining, as her upper nipples stung, and then something—finally it—Lana gasped out as fluid squirted out of her. “Ohhh…” she whimpered at the relief of the sensation, milk spraying and squirting, nipples aching pleasantly.

She slowly shifted her gaze down to her body, to her large upper nipples, which looked unnaturally dark, almost greenish. She reached her upper arms up to cradle the mounds, finally registering the significance of her exposure.

Some people had oddly begun to clap and laugh nervously. Others seemed to have been rendered mute from shock or disgust.

A tremulous young police officer approached. “Mam, y-you are under arrest for p-public indecency. For performance art without license. And for—for littering.” He indicated the food wrappings and emptied containers littering the floor around them.

Lana hiccupped, consequently the officer’s chest with milk. He looked appalled. She feebly tried to tug up her tank, but her upper breasts were close to just spilling free again. She allowed the officer to handcuff her upper two wrists, before she was led out of the store and to his police cruiser waiting outside.