Slime, Part 7 (Patreon)

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Summary: Eve finds herself pregnant with a strange, alien slime, and starts giving birth to slime babies. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, alien impregnation, unbirthing, and more.

Previous Chapter

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Eve was spent.

For hours she went through the painful and strenuous process of birthing slime-babies from two orifices simultaneously.

As miserable as the process was, it was also humiliating. Numerous scientists had flocked in during the night until the lab was completely cluttered with people. They all stood by monitoring her, whether it was from behind the observation glass, or inside her room in a hazmat suit.

The births were continuous throughout the night, and by the time they came to a stop, the lab was bright and Eve could tell it was daytime.

She was sprawled uncomfortably across the hard marble floor, soaked in her own sweat and tears, the floor slippery beneath her. She squirmed and groaned.

“Get her up,” someone said.

Several pairs of hands gripped her dewy body, heaving her up in an awkward grasp. Eve was lowered to her mattress. She gasped for breath, her skin burning hot. Her body ached and she felt gutted. She tried to speak but only produced some indecipherable murmurs in her half-delirious state. She was exhausted. Beyond it. The only thing keeping her conscious was the persistent activity around her.

She pried open her eyes.

Her body had changed. Her belly was softer, less heavy and strained. It also appeared to have shrunken somewhat. It was still very large and round, but less ludicrous in proportion. She resembled a woman overdue with triplets or more, which was a huge difference from hours earlier, when she had looked like a woman with a bolder attached to her torso. Eve groaned and curled slightly, hands coming down to gently cradle her belly. It was still littered with shudders and shocks of sensation, but there was no more of the acute tension and pain from earlier.

“What do we do with those—things,” said one of the scientists by the bed, voice muffled by his rubber suit.

“They’re moving. They’re coming after her.” The half dozen scientists in the room backed away from Eve and the bed.

Eve’s gaze shifted to the floor where the creatures she had produced—the slime babies—were crawling towards her, without fault, and rapidly moving with speed and grace no baby would realistly possess. They were coming straight towards Eve. She went stiff as the babies reached the bed. They paused only momentarily, before they began to climb up the bed posts, right onto the mattress, without issue.

“What the…” was all Eve managed, before slime-infants were crawling onto her, covering her, nuzzling into her body and her breasts. Two of the infants attached to her nice and began to suck. Eve gasped. She didn’t understand how any of this possible. It was beginning to seem more like fantasy than something that could be explained by science and logic.

But it was happening. The babies were nursing from her, or fighting to nurse, two dozen or so of the creatures covering her on the bed. She was helpless to do anything but lay there and tolerate it. She could hear the murmuring of the scientists around her. She wondered what they thought of all this. What the plan was.

“So many of them…” Eve mumbled groggily, her eyelids fluttering. She hissed as her belly shivered, insides stirring. It felt odd, like something was still transpiring within her. The prospect was so dizzying, she didn’t want to think about it.

She finally dozed despite the distress. She went in and out of consciousness as the scientists and slime infants did as they willed.

-

Eve awoke to a small commotion in her room. She looked blearily around.

The first thing she noticed was that the slime babies were no longer actively nursing, but squirming, twitching, and changing shape. Much as the original slime mass had, the infants’ bodies were twisting, contorting, and liquifying at times. Some returned to their infant shapes, while others took entirely new ones—nothing specific, just blobs and puddles, or somewhere in between being a baby and being an amorphous mass of slime.

One of the scientists nearby was squirming and yammering in evident panic. Eve saw that some slime had attached itself to the face screen of the scientist’s suit, and the woman was struggling to get it off.

“Help me, dammit,” snapped the female scientist to her colleague nearby, who was also wearing a protective suit.

The other scientist came closer, but seemed reluctant to touch anything. “Can someone get us a towel!” he called towards the speaker.

The female began to scream.

Slime was starting to get through the face mask, plunging through microscopic cracks to enter the hazmat suit.

“Clara, calm down,” the male colleague insisted, but the female—Clara—was now writing and screaming.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she shrieked, snapping some latches on her suit, then tearing the whole helmet off.

“Clara, don’t—” said the male, but it was too late.

Clara was uncovered and desperately trying to swipe the slime off her, but the mass of it had taken her exposure as opportunistic. Tendrils of slime poured deep into her suit as Clara screamed some more.

“Holy fuck,” said the male, beginning to back towards the door, when one of the slime babies abruptly leapt off the bed and smacked into his chest, where it stuck. He gasped, stumbled, and fell on his ass.

“Help me!” Clara cried, flailing. “Jesus fu—mghhhhh,” Clara was muffled as a fat tendril of slime plunged itself into her mouth. She made choking noises, her throat visibly contracting.

Eve watched on in horror. An alarm started to sound as the four other scientists present in her room backed towards the corners. Three scrambled for the door, but it was locked. “Open it!” one cried.

The two dozens of scientists behind the observation glass began to scramble around in panic, some getting on phones.

“Emergency lockdown activated,” chimed a computerized voice from the speakers as the alarm continued to blare, red lights flashing. One of the scientists trying to escape the room was now furiously pounding on the door, but no one would open it. Eve grunted and rubbed her side as her belly heaved in forceful pulsations.

Most of her slime-offspring had slid off the bed and were crawling across the floor. The ones who weren’t moving rapidly towards the scientists trying to escape the room had gone over to the glass, and climbed across it was ease, sticking to it, their translucent bodies melting slightly as they explored the surface.

They’re trying to escape, Eve realized as liquid slime spread across the panel on the edges of the glass, looking for cracks. They’re trying to spread. Proliferate.

Clara was now curled on the floor, moaning and writhing. Her hands fumbled with her suit, tugging fruitlessly, and Eve could see where the rubber material had stretched and tented out at her abdomen, as though a mass was accumulating beneath. “Ohhhhh…” Clara moaned, before vomiting a clump of slime. The suit continued to stretch, Clara’s face red and sweaty. She had been invaded—impregnated by the slime, just as Eve had been.

Slime was attacking the others, men and women alike, seeping into suits and plunging into their bodies. The slime on the glass had found its way through, and was now pouring into the lab, where people were running around, tripping and screaming. It was chaos.

“Mmghhhh…” Eve moaned, her belly giving another forceful heave. She knew she had made various poor choices, though she wasn’t sure if the outcome would have been any different had she not. The slime was too overwhelming, too powerful.

It was spreading like a contagion; the ultimate parasite with no limits to its abilities of replication. Eve feared this was the inception of a vastly different world.

The End