Slugs II, Part 2 (Patreon)

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Summary: Connor is impregnated with a massive, mutated slug. And unfortunately for those around him, the condition proves contagious. Contains: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, bug expansion, unbirthing.

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Panting, Connor made his way back to his bed. He sat there, slightly hunched, hugging his abdomen for a while. He felt a weird compulsion to start eating, though it didn’t make any sense at all.

Connor slowly looked back down at his navel. His belly had softened again, though his belly button was still protruding. Feeling mortified, Connor tugged his shirt down. But his belly button was large and continued to evidently protrude against the stretched fabric.

It was obvious. And it looked so weird. This couldn’t be normal, could it? It was the sort of thing that happened to pregnant women in their third term, not young men with a bit of extra stomach weight.

Connor slid his hand along the mound. The lurching was gone. In fact, there was no sign of it. He continued to absently rub his belly as he took deep breaths. What was going on with him?

There was a ringing. Connor glanced at his cell phone on the night stand. He lifted it up and frowned at the sight of his landlord’s name on the caller ID. Pressing the Ignore button, Connor replaced the phone on the table.

As he got ready for work, there were no more incidents. He had to struggle with his slacks for a while, and he had to stretch his shirt against himself more tightly than ever before. Otherwise, his routine proceeded like normal.

As Connor was putting on his tie, his cell phone started ringing. Thinking it was Gary again, Connor almost ignored it. But as he glanced at his Caller ID, his eyes widened. Connor lifted the phone from his nightstand, his thumb hoovering over the Accept button.

It was Simon, his ex. Connor wanted to answer it so badly. But a glance down at himself made him reconsider. He was so out of shape, Simon would laugh.

Feeling depressed, Connor lowered the phone. He walked into the kitchen, pulled out a pot, and started throwing things together, almost mechanically. Though eating at that moment seemed counterproductive, he suddenly needed to.

Connor turned on the fire and filled the pot with two inches of oil. He mixed in a dozen eggs, a block of cheddar, and a package of bacon. He cooked it all together into a giant, horrible, blob, before pouring it out onto a serving platter, producing a small mountain of food.

Grabbing a loaf of bread to go with it, Connor sat down at the kitchen table, and chomped away. He tried to think of the taste of the oily bacon sliding down his throat, and not how awkward his body felt or how fat he was getting. He tried not to think about his depression and loneliness since the start of his rapid weight gain. Or the subtle sensations of his stomach getting tighter, even as he sat there, filling it with fat.

If Connor tried to stop eating, even for a minute, he felt nothing but anxiety at the sight of the uneaten food before him. He had to eat it all. Every drop. He was not satisfied until every bite of it made its way into his belly.

Connor covered his mouth as he released a small belch. He leaned back in his seat, his rounded belly resting against his lap. He caught his breath for a while, absently staring at how large he was getting. Finally, Connor climbed to his feet. He wasn’t achieving anything by sitting there, feeling sorry for himself. He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door.

But just as Connor was about to leave his house, his stomach heaved, and his face went pale. Dropping his briefcase, Connor covered his mouth and ran to his bathroom. He missed the toilet, and ended up throwing up on the bathroom floor.

“Eugh,” Connor groaned as he wiped his mouth. He held his head and looked away from his vomit, oblivious of the grainy beige particles moving around within it.

There was a knock on the front door. Taking a deep breath, Connor somehow managed to straighten himself. Holding his seven-month-pregnant-looking belly, Connor trudged back into the living room and opened the door. “Zack?”

“Thank god you’re up,” said Zack as he let himself inside. “I messed up, sir. I really fucked up. I accidentally deleted the Richards account.”

“What?” said Connor, his nausea suddenly forgotten. “What do you mean? Show me what you have!”

The two went to the couch where Zack set his laptop up on the coffee table. “It hasn’t been coming up. I was working on it last night and I don’t know what happened. I have a meeting with Richards at eight, and I can’t even pull up his file. I was just trying to input the—”

There was a knock on the front door. More like an urgent pounding. Zack and Connor exchanged quizzical looks.

“Did you tell anyone else from the office to meet us here?” said Connor.

“No sir.”

It was barely 5AM.

Clutching his belly, Connor heaved himself off the couch. He walked to the door and opened it before scowling at who he saw. “Gary,” Connor breathed in exasperation. “I’m sort of busy right now.” Why him? Why this morning?

“I knew I could catch you if I came early enough,” said Gary as he nervously twiddled this thumbs. He looked thin and anxious, and always seemed somewhat disheveled. Gary’s eyes flickered downwards, to Connor’s belly, then up again. “We really need to talk.” He adjusted his spectacles.

Reddening somewhat, Connor self-consciously folded his arms against his abdomen. “I keep the place clean. I pay my rent on time. What I don’t understand is why you’re always bothering me.”

“If you would just let me explain—”

Connor stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “I’m beginning to think that moving in here was a mistake. I’m going to have to ask you one more time to leave me alone, otherwise I’m just going to give notice—”

There was a yell coming from inside the apartment. Blinking, Connor turned back to the door.

“Connor, wait—” Gary warned.

Connor opened the door and stared in shock at the scene before him.

Zack’s laptop had tumbled to the ground, the screen cracked and some keys scattered around it. Zack himself was sprawled on the ground, covered in what looked to be…slugs. But not like any of the ones Connor had ever seen. They were large and fat, with plump beige bodies, and they appeared to be squirming over to Zack from the direction of the bathroom. The slugs were slimy—the size of tennis balls at their greatest widths, and each about six inches long. Presently they were covering Zack who was writhing on the ground. At first, Connor wasn’t sure what they were doing to him, before he saw one of the slugs work its way into Zack’s mouth, the young accountant choking on it.

“Zack!” Connor started forward, but Gary grabbed hold of his arms behind his back. Connor struggled, but Gary just gripped onto him tighter, threatening to dislodge his shoulders from their sockets.

Connor was helpless but to watch as slugs forced their fat bodies down Zack’s throat. Other slugs were working their way up Zack’s pant leg and into the seat of his pants, and it was only at hearing Zack yelp out that Connor realized what was happening. Zack struggled and squirmed, but it seemed impossible to get the creatures off of him.

Zack’s belly was expanding, his button-down becoming taut against him. There was a snapping noise, and Connor watched Zack’s belt split apart. Connor stared as Zack’s belly continued to swell in growth, diamonds of skin forming between the young accountant’s buttons. He was getting larger by the moment, his belly taut, and he looked as though he was six months pregnant by then. Zack somehow managed to make his way up to his feet, and staggered forward, reaching out to Connor and Gary, as though pleading for assistance. Connor was so stunned, he could do little more than gawk at him. He watched Zack’s belly swell in pulses as more of the slugs forced their way inside.

Zack dropped to his knees, seeming overwhelmed by his increasing size. “Oh god…oh god…oh…mmmmffffghhh…” Another slug entered his mouth. He came to look seven months…eight months…nine months pregnant. Finally, his stretched shirt tore open, his belly surging forward.

Zack’s belly wiggled as he struggled against the creatures entering him from both ends. The mound was shiny and sleek from perspiration. His body was flushed, his face red…reddening…as every slug present forced their way into his body. Connor watched his employee blow up before his eyes, and somehow it was entirely…arousing.

Connor could feel his hard dick stretching the groin of his pants. In some, subliminal way, Connor was rooting for the slugs, and he didn’t know why. Soon Zack’s belly was pressing the ground. He was red, wheezing, and looked like he might pop! Only after every last slug forced their way into Zack’s heaving body, did his torture cease. Zack collapsed to his back, unconscious.

Connor stared as Zack’s belly pulsated, Zack releasing quiet groans as it did. His belly button was bulging out like a pregnant woman’s, large, and bloated, and strange. Connor could have sworn he saw it twitch, but perhaps he was imagining it. Slowly, Connor’s eyes shifted down to his own protruding belly button.

Connor felt his arms being released. He turned to his landlord in shock.

“We really do need to talk,” said Gary nervously.

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