Alien Abduction II (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Iluvfoodbabies.

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Most of the women lay around lethargic throughout the day. Many slept, while others moaned quietly as they massaged their palms into their bulbous midsections. The overall mood was morose and people were not too forthcoming when Elvira asked questions. They just shook their heads at her as if to say, You don’t want to know.

The men in the hazmat suits came and went. Often one would pick out a woman and pull her away from the rest, into a room that opened up from the metallic wall. The men proved surprisingly strong as they ushered the larger-sized women, who moaned unhappily, but just went along with it.

“Where are they taking them?” Elvira asked one of the others. The women always returned a few hours later, and when they did, they seemed weak, dazed, and significantly larger. Were they being taken back to the stalls to be filled yet more?

The red-haired woman to whom Elvira inquired grimaced. “Feeding,” she muttered, and that was all.

Elvira wasn’t sure what that meant. She didn’t figure it out until it happened to her.

A man in a hazmat suit approached later that day, and she tried to resist. She wanted to stay with the other women. But as much as she pulled and tugged for freedom, the man had a vice grip on her arm. It felt locked, like a machine, like she had no hope of escape unless she gave up her limb. That was her first clue that there was something very extraordinary about the men. She realized that it was odd to consider them “men” at all. She could not see them through their masks, even the eye piece obscured by darkened lenses. They were too strong, too uniform, too perfect in their movements, almost robotic.

The room Elvira was brought to was plain and clinical. Her free hand clutched her belly as she was forcefully pushed back against something resembling a patient chair in a dental office. She breathed heavily, eyes darting about. Without any ceremony, her captor uncoiled a hose coming out of the wall then shoved it into her mouth.

Elvira choked, but the hose was only shoved deeper, until it hit her throat. She again tried to resist, but her arms were held down against the chair with enough force that it was painful. Her captor began to strap them down with binds she hadn’t noticed to be attached to the chair. In the meantime, the machine hummed, and something poured out of the hose, directly into her throat.

The fluid was slimy and sweet, sort of milky, with unpredictable clumps that stretched her throat and made her gag at first at the unexpected change in texture. She did her best to force it down.

She was being fed. The description was accurate. Elvira did her best to keep up as more and more of the substance was pumped into her gut. Her eyes darted around for any indication of reprieve, but her captor stood by watching her, almost unnaturally still. Her chest heaved, and she again choked slightly, but caught up. She had to keep gulping.

She could feel her belly stretching; filling. It felt warm and tight, and for some reason, her breasts were tingling. She could feel the accumulating weight pushing her harder into the seat, belly starting to press into the armrests as it inflated obscenely, right before her eyes.

It had to have been hours. Her face was hot and sweaty. Her thighs felt softer, squishing together. Her breasts had taken on growth, and had to have swelled to DDs or Es, where they sat heavily on her chest atop her mountainous gut.

There was a soft beeping noise and the output of the substance abruptly stopped. Elvira felt dizzy and tired. She must have looked overdue with twins by then, her body plumper and softer than it had ever been before. She could feel some of the substance rolling down her chin, mingling with tears. She panted through her nose.

The man seemed to “awake,” because he perked as though he had not been standing eerily still for the past while. He pulled the hose out of Elvira’s throat, causing her to tense and grunt. He then quickly unlatched her arms and hauled her off the bed as she tried not to fall down.

When she was brought back to the room, she sunk down the wall and was grateful to be left alone. To her surprise, there was a small commotion transpiring with one of the other women. This woman had to be the biggest one there, her body fat and swollen, belly like a bolder where it was practically crushing her. She had been rendered immobile days before, the other women helping attend to her when they could.

At that moment, several of the forms in rubber suits had gathered around her, and were heaving her up without issue. She wailed and tried to resist. Elvira stared as she was carried off. “Feeding?” she asked the redhead from before, who was standing not far from where Elvira was perched. Elvira’s belly gurgled, and she grimaced, rubbing her hands into it. It seemed to be throbbing, the sensation of pressure filling it, like it was still steadily growing.

The redhead sighed and shook her head. “Feeding, yes. But she’s not the one being fed this time.”

Elvira blinked in confusion.

“She’s the main course,” said the redhead, before waddling off, clutching at her own heavy girth.

Elvira’s jaw fell.

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