Fish Girl, Parts 10-12 (Patreon)

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Note: This is the female version of Fish Boy.

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Summary: Gina turns into an aquatic creature then starts to develop eggs. Contains: Female: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, egg laying, animal characteristics.

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10.

The next day, Greta drained the tank down to all but a foot or so of water.

Putting on a wetsuit, she climbed down to the floor of the tank, where Gina was perched, looking immensely uncomfortable. Her belly bulged from the water like a miniature boulder, the skin flushed worrisomely. It rose and fell with her heavy breathing, bloated breasts wiggling. They were steadily growing from Cs to Ds.

But Gina could barely process their existence, too preoccupied with her massive abdominal growth. “Mom,” she grunted in greeting, jaw clenched in immense discomfort.

“Gina.” Greta kissed her head. It was nice to hear her voice. “How are you doing?”

Gina took a gulp of air, not that it did her any good. “Okay,” she lied, seeming breathless. “Nnnggh…” Her stomach heaved, but did not sink. Even then, she was experiencing small spurts of growth. Her eyes teared at the corners as she desperately rubbed her mass.

“Are you in pain?” asked Greta in concern. She touched Gina’s belly. There was little resistance left.

“No, I’m…just…peachy,” Gina breathed. “Me, the babies—ughhh…” Her belly heaved again, her breasts seeming to tighten with it, till her nipples were nearly pointing upwards, distended and pink. Gina started panting, her face flushed, and gills gasping for air.

She needed water. Greta urged Gina to lie back. Gina was reluctant, but she complied. As Gina lowered herself onto her back, and her gills into her water, her belly crowned from the water, the full weight of it shifting onto her torso, and without the depth of water to lighten the load. Her body immediately began to protest.

“Hold on,” said Greta as Gina squirmed and splashed. Greta rubbed Gina’s belly in an effort to sooth her. Then she held her shoulder. “Just give me a moment.”

She did not have to hold Gina down. The pressure of gravity bore on her, and she was too heavy to get herself up.

Greta whipped out some jars of salve, and spread them over Gina’s belly as quickly as she could. She then rubbed them into her skin, giving them another minute to dry as Gina struggled in discomfort beneath her crushing mass. Greta watched Gina’s belly tremble. Bubbles came up from the water as Gina grunted in discomfort.

Just as a whale could not survive outside water because of its own weight, no longer was Gina designed to be out of water, especially not in her condition. But she would be fine, for this short while. They needed to soften her skin; give the eggs room to grow.

Finally when Greta was confident that the salves had been absorbed, she hurried out and started to refill the tank. She went downstairs and saw Gina finally manage to heave herself upright as the water reached the level of her neck. Gina glanced her mother’s way, giving Greta a tortured expression, before pushing herself into a corner. Flushed, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, her belly rising and falling with each one.

11.

Gina had two days to go, her condition was quickly advancing, and she was really packing on the pounds. During the day, she would stuff herself relentlessly with fish. Afterwards, she would groan and clutch her belly as it trembled, her face a mixture of regret and discomfort.

“It’s just another part of your condition,” her mother tried to reassure her, but Gina barely seemed to hear her anymore, too absorbed in her considerable growth.

Greta drained the pool again to check the softness of Gina’s skin. When she climbed down to the floor, Gina was shaking her head, looking anxious.

“I can’t,” she gasped, looking exhausted. “I can’t lean back.”

“Shhh,” Greta tried to ease her, rubbing Gina’s belly, causing Gina’s eyelids to lower.

Gina’s legs were spread wide to make space for her belly, which was perched on the tank floor. By then, it was bigger than she was. Still, all things indicated it was a part of her, its gentle pulsations, the way it had begun to shelve Gina’s round breasts. Greta was doubtful that Gina could stand, or move much, without the assistance of water.

Though she did not have full-access to Gina’s belly in her upright position, Greta realized that she could not make Gina lean back again. Greta wasn’t sure that Gina’s body could even handle it. As Greta touched Gina’s belly, she found more softness and resistance than there had been the day before. So the salves had helped. Greta even noticed that her belly button was back to wiggling in its more spacious environment. “It’s back,” Greta chuckled, pointing it out to Gina.

Gina opened her eyes. “Yeah,” she said with a weary smile. Gina reached out to cup the egg at her navel, but her hand was nowhere near reaching it. She reddened, and Greta smiled at her.

“You’ll reunite soon enough,” Greta assured her.

“Right,” said Gina. She seemed a little uncomfortable at this.

Not only was the wiggle back, but Greta noticed the occasional round bulge on the surface of Gina’s rounded flesh, other signs of growth and movement. Greta touched one and traced it, feeling it sink back into place. She looked at Gina, who wore a shy smile, despite the evidence of discomfort in her furrowed brows. Greta could tell that Gina was in love with them despite the detriments of her condition.

“They’re really active,” Greta reflected.

“Yeah,” Gina grunted, her belly heaving up, but not sinking, her navel seeming to become more prominent and twitching furiously. Her breasts wiggled as she panted. “Are we almost done?”

“Oh, sorry dear. Just give me a minute.”

Greta pulled out her salve and spread it over the expansive amount of her belly that was protruding from the water. Just before she could put it away, Gina stopped her.

“Just…a little more,” Gina managed, holding out her hand. Greta hesitated, and poured some of the salve against Gina’s palm.

Gina rubbed her hands together, then used both to massage the impossibly-plump D-cups on her chest, not making eye contact with Greta as she did. Her face was flushed.

Gina groaned slightly, her nipples distending as she rubbed her hands up and down her bloated flesh. Her areola became puffy, and both breasts seemed to swell somewhat in her hands, plump and fat, but softening.

When Gina was finished, her breasts glistened with the salve. She placed her hands back against the floor behind her for balance.

“I’ll go refill the tank,” said Greta. Gina nodded, and Greta hurried off.

Greta turned the water back on, and returned to the basement, watching Gina slowly relax the higher the water level rose. When it was finally above her, Gina pushed herself to her spot in the corner of the tank, and went back to staring at and rubbing her growing mass. Greta couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind.

12.

It was the fourth day, the day before Gina was due to give birth. Gina’s belly was riddled with growth spurts throughout the day. She would try to rest, but then it would happen again, her back arching, face flushing, and belly tightening.

Bulges rose and fell, rolling along the surface of her considerably girth. Swimming had become impossible by then. Gina mostly sat or drifted about the bottom of the pool. She only had one day left. She could get through it, she hoped.

Sometimes when one of Gina’s young wiggled more aggressively, the surrounding babies would copy it, until it spread, and every one of them was squirming. This would usually cause Gina to fall into hiccups, her belly heaving outwards with each one as tennis ball-sized knots rose and fell along the surface. From the outside of the tank, Greta would look at her in concern, but Gina experienced no pain. Just that immense pressure.

Gina noticed her bottom had begun to get plumper towards the latter half of the day, until that night, when her bikini bottom was uncomfortably tight, her crack bulging over the back waistband. It was mortifying, but also strange, and frightening. By then it was impossible to keep any of her developments private, her mother often staring at her through the glass as though she was another science experiment.

“Everything happening to you is completely natural,” Greta assured her, but Gina could sense the awkwardness in her mother’s voice. “You’re doing great.”

None of it seemed natural to Gina. Why had her body compelled her to get close to bursting with eggs? Why was her ass bloating up like fat being pumped into sausages? Why was her groin tingling and throbbing, like she was getting off on this or something?

Bubbles escaped Gina’s mouth as she grunted in discomfort. Some time between the intervals of pressure, growth, and dozing, her mother had disappeared, and now the lab was dark. It must have been night time. Gina couldn’t help being a bit relieved to have privacy, for once.

Gina looked down at herself. Her belly had become something she was simply attached to. When she was seated, she had to spread her legs painfully wide to allow the mound to sit against the bottom of the tank. When she leaned back, it squashed against her. Despite the lightness the water provided, she felt heavy. Every day her belly took up more and more of the tank. She often saw her mother throwing worried glances. And as much as Gina grew—as much as her body threatened to pop—she couldn’t help those phantom maternal instincts, her fondness for every single new life brimming within her, her enjoyment of their presence, her desire to grow, nurture, and carry them as long as she could.

Gina grunted as her belly button twitched. She clutched what she could of her abdomen, bubbles escaping her mouth as she groaned.

Shelved atop her belly were E-cup breasts. Though the salves had softened the mounds temporarily, they were back to being bloated and pressurized, the round flesh tingling. Her nipples were erect and quite large. Like everything else, they were growing fast.

Her bikini bottoms had gotten downright uncomfortable on her, having become little more than a thong. Her newest sports bra was being stretched to capacity, and threatened to tear at any moment. Again silently grateful for her mother’s absence, Gina slid her bikini bottom down. She could feel how plump and sensitized her labia was. Gina gently stroked it, then yelped as her stomach heaved, the pulses of pleasure not corresponding well with her advanced condition. Gina lowered her hand and sunk to the floor, her body trembling, and belly pulsating. She reddened as she felt herself seep. It just felt wrong. She was about to have babies, for chrissakes!

Was she aroused by all this? Her body trembled as her belly experienced another growth spurt, about three inches. Her nipples ached and gently distended, her sports bra finally beginning to give way to her breasts.

Bubbles escaped Gina’s mouth as her loins pulsed. She felt herself come, causing a pulse of electricity to shoot through her stomach, as it heaved and tightened, and she seeped some more. Her body twisted and she released a strangled cry that was embodied by more air bubbles. When it was over, Gina was exhausted, her stomach feeling knotted, her groin, and her face – everything…pleasantly heated. Gina closed her eyes and tried to relax, but within moments, her vagina was throbbing again, and she couldn’t help sliding her hand down to it, desperate for relief. Gina had never felt so betrayed by her body. No, no, no, she thought as her young wiggled restlessly within her. This was horrible. This was wrong. She tried to regain control of herself, but she could feel her body succumbing to arousal and had the irrational fear that it would not end. She grunted as her belly button bulged out like an apple, but then sank. She hoped the babies weren’t in distress. Gina’s eyes rolled upwards as her stomach swelled and her lips throbbed.

Clutching her belly, Gina came again and again.

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