Abstinence, Part 2 (Patreon)

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Summary: Cara, a 20-year-old college student, had the wildest night of her life. Unbeknownst to her, she has been impregnated by an alien species. The alien grows and feeds off of arousal, so any time she get aroused, the alien grows. The alien has a 12-month gestation period and Cara must try her best to abstain from any sexual activities or anything that arouses her. The amount of arousal will affect size of the alien offspring, but it will still take 12-months until birth. Idea submitted by Jacob.
Contains: Female: belly expansion, alien pregnancy, breast expansion, stuffing, lactation, and more.

Previous Chapter

-

It was just so weird.

Cara found herself touching the swell experimentally. It was rounded and firm, truly resembling a pregnancy. And yet she couldn’t be pregnant. She had just had her period a week ago. Additionally, she was on various measures of birth control. So the idea just didn’t make sense.

On top of that, a pregnancy didn’t visibly expand over the course of seconds. Babies didn’t grow that way. This seemed more like…she didn’t know…inflammation? Internal bleeding? Well, shit. Cara was really beginning to worry.

“Woah!”

Cara looked up to see Jessica staring at her. Cara had been standing in front of her bedroom mirror. She had left her door open out of habit.

Cara reddened as she absently clutched the curve. “Don’t you dare say it,” she warned.

“You’re pregnant!?” Jessica blurted.

“No!” Cara retorted defensively. “This thing just like — popped up out of nowhere!”

“Oh my gosh.” Jessica looked scandalized. “You should see a doctor. Oh god, do you think it’s contagious?”

“Go away,” Cara groaned.

But Jessica continued to scrutinize the bump, tilting her head to the side now. “Are you sure you’re not just…”

“No!” Cara threw a pillow at her.

After more squabbling, then changing out of her night clothes, Cara made a visit to the campus medical office. The nurse gave Cara one look, rolled her eyes, then ordered blood work.

Cara was left to sit behind a curtain, irritably fiddling with her medical gown. It felt like a full hour had passed before the nurse returned to the small space cordoned off from the rest of the ward.

“Ms. Foster, your test results came back,” she said monotonously as she flipped through a clipboard. “Pregnancy confirmed.”

Cara sputtered. “That’s not possible. I mean, I just had my —”

“Yes, I’m sure this comes as quite a surprise,” the nurse deadpanned, still looking at the chart. “I’m going to refer you to an OBGYN, and I recommend that you see them soon.”

Cara was numb.

“It’s just that your hormone levels are off the charts. I’m sure it’s nothing to be too worried about, but…well, you should really be seeing a doctor at your stage and all.” She gave Cara’s torso another onceover.

Cara left the medical office with a referral and a deep sense of panic. She couldn’t believe this had happened. She was always so careful. And the growth spurts still didn’t make any sense, for that matter!

She looked down herself, cupping that little bump. “Fuck,” she whispered.

-

This wasn’t going to be her story. Cara wasn’t going to be a mom and flip her whole life upside down to accommodate some bratty child.

When she got home, she immediately went online and looked up the abortion clinics in town. She found one that was relatively close to her campus, which was fairly comforting. She scheduled a consult for the following day. It was surprisingly easy.

“It’s okay,” she told herself. Everything was just going to be okay. She would get through the procedure and never think about this sticky experience again.

With that settled, Cara decided that she needed to decompress. She wanted to turn her brain off for the rest of the evening. And the best way she could think to do that was with a little self-care session.

She dug her vibrator out of her underwear drawer then turned the light down to the lowest setting. Then she cuddled up in bed with her tablet and started to web browse.

She found her way to her favorite porn site, where she dove right into a video about a lawyer having illicit meetings with the opposing defendant. She appreciated that the videos on this website actually had decent plot lines. Cara watched the attorney loosen his tie on the screen, and she knew what was coming next. Just the anticipation was getting her hot. She bit her lip and fumbled with her vibrator, when something came over her. It was that – that sensation again!

“Fuhhhh…” Both the vibrator and the tablet tumbled from her fingers as pressure surged in her abdomen. “Mmghhhhh…” Her arms hugged her stomach as it grew firmer and tighter. It was – she was growing!

“Noo…ughh…” This wasn’t how pregnancy was supposed to work! All the same, Cara’s belly swelled outwards as she struggled and groaned, hugging it, even trying to push it back in as it heaved with throbs of growth.

By the time spurt ended, she was dazed and gasping. Her hands ran up and down the curve, amazed and horrified. She shoved her sheets aside and scrambled upright, to stare down at a curve that seemed indicative of a five month pregnancy.

This was just insane. She must have been losing her mind or something. Cara’s thoughts suddenly returned to what the weird Lou—no, Lor—guy had told her. He had predicted that she was pregnant before she even knew, but he had also claimed to be the father, and that the baby was an alien. It had all been a dumb joke. He had said that if she got aroused, she would…

…she would grow.

-

The next day, Cara found herself anxiously sitting in the waiting room of the clinic, her arms self-consciously folded over her stomach, which was stretching out her too-small shirt. The bump just looked huge on her. She looked huge. She looked as though she was going to have a baby. There were about a half-dozen other women in the waiting room, and none of them were showing at all. Some were even staring at Cara, throwing odd looks at her.

“Ms. Foster?” called someone up front.

Cara awkwardly got up, tugging at her shirt, which seemed determined to ride up and expose the curve. It probably looked so big on her small frame. She continued to try to cover the swell with her arms, feeling as though she was harboring something…something that was just wrong.

“Right this way.”

Cara followed the medical assistant through a door, down a hallway, then into an exam room. There, she was left to wait, fidgeting on the exam bed. She wished she had bigger clothes. Just something looser and more discrete. Of course, most of her clothing was either tight or revealing. She was always one to show off her body.

The door opened, and a physician walked in. “Hello there. I’m Dr. Johnson. And you must be Miss Foster.” As the doctor glanced Cara over, he appeared a bit puzzled. “How are you today?”

“Good,” Cara forced out.

“Great. I would like to talk briefly with you about the procedure, but first…well, would you mind lowering your arms, Miss Foster?”

Rigidly, Cara removed her hands from her abdomen, displaying the bulge, that was presently showing an inch or two under the hem of her stretched top.

“Right.” He glanced down at the chart in his hands, then back at Cara. “I can tell just by looking at you that you’re past the cutoff for termination.”

“No —I –” Cara blurted, but then got a little choked up. She swallowed thickly, trying to gather her composure. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I mean — I’m not that far. I swear. I’m just—chubby, I guess.”

Dr. Johnson gave her a dubious look. With her slim build and firm belly, Cara doubted her claim of being “chubby” was very convincing. “I suppose we can run some scans,” he conceded, eventually.

She sighed.

Cara was sent to change into a hospital gown, after which she found herself back in the exam room, lying down as the embarrassment of her bare curve was revealed between the gown and some sheets. She grimaced as Dr. Johnson squirted some cool gel onto her skin, then began to massage it with a device as he peered into a screen, his puzzlement only growing.

“I’m seeing…” He trailed off, continuing to study the cloudy images. He moved the device to the other side of her belly. “Well, there’s a fairly well-developed baby — certainly past the cutoff Miss Foster, you’re well into the second trimester — but certain things are rather — well, this here –” he stopped again, and fell silent, still gazing at the screen. “I think I’m going to have to call in a colleague. Just for — a second opinion.”

Cara lay in stunned silence as he hurried out of the room. Half of her wanted that second opinion because there was no way in hell she was already in the second trimester. She hadn’t even been showing two days ago!

Yet another part of her was fearful of what the outcome would be. Dr. Johnson had seemed shaken; even a little spooked. What if this — what if she — aliens? No that was—well, just fuck this!

Cara tore the sheets off her hips and tried her best to wipe the goo off her stomach. She hurriedly got up and squeezed back into her cloths, grabbing her purse as she hurried out.

“Miss!” a receptionist called as Cara fled the scene. “Miss Foster, the doctor wasn’t finished with your consult!”

But Cara knew she had to get out of there before things escalated. So she left the clinic, not looking back. She would have to deal with this on her own somehow.

-

The next few days were spent in a state of panic. Cara would pace and try to think, but then her anxiety would get the better of her and she would turn to other things. Namely, food. Which was actually unusual for her. She wasn’t typically much of an eater, yet suddenly she found herself snacking constantly, completely overwhelmed with cravings.

Worse, she was gravitating towards unhealthy snacks like potato chips, chocolates, buttered popcorn, and anything else that didn’t necessitate preparation. When she wasn’t eating, her mind wandered to Greg, or the club, and more sordid activities, because Cara wasn’t much of a hobbyist. So she found it best to keep her mouth full.

There was one basic rule about this condition that Cara had managed to wrap her frazzled mind around.

She could not get aroused. Because when she did, this thing would grow, apparently. Well, Lor had said as much, and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t experienced it firsthand.

And how long had Lor said this would go on? Like a year, or something? And then what? She was gonna have like a —an alien baby?

“Oh god.” The thought was dizzying. This was all so goddamn weird.

She tried to learn more through web searches. She looked up terms like ‘alien impregnation’ but this just let her down a rabbit hole of conspiracy theory websites, and oddly enough, a lot of porn. She quickly closed out of those pages.

She went on to social media to see if she could find Lor. She didn’t know his last name, or if he even had one, but “Lor” seemed unique enough. Of course she had significant doubts about his internet presence, what with him claiming to be an alien and all. She searched anyway, scrolling through profiles, and finding nothing. She was left feeling lost, alone, and directionless. She didn’t know what she was going to do outside of the obvious abstinence.

Cara hated the way her clothing clung to her now, belly protruding out under tight shirts, or straining against skirts and dresses. She had been avoiding Jessica for days, sneaking around the apartment like some phantom. This whole thing was just humiliating.

Cara did find a huge sweatshirt buried deep in the back of her closet. It was oversized and had the name of the campus football team slapped across the front. When she pulled it on, the sleeves hung down to her fingertips, the hem hitting her knees. She was drowning in the thing. It must have belonged to a past one-night-stand. A brawny guy by the looks of it. Cara smirked slightly at the thought.

She paired it with some leggings, then looked at herself in the mirror. There was still a curve, but the sweatshirt hid things considerably. She supposed this would suffice until she found something better.

There was a ringing noise. Cara pulled out her phone, turning off the alarm. “Shit,” she hissed. She had forgotten all about her work shift that afternoon.

She looked down at herself, her usually styled hair tied up in a messy bun, the baggy sweatshirt overflowing her, and some chip crumbs lying against that subtle curve. “Eugh.” This sloppiness just wasn’t her. But this may be as good as it gets for the foreseeable future, she thought grimly as she grabbed her purse.

-

Over the following days, Cara went from her shifts at the coffee shop, to classes, then back to her dorm. She kept her head down and stopped socializing altogether. Her friends spammed her with calls and text messages, but she ignored them all. She didn’t know what her social life would look like after this was all over, but she would just have worry about that later.

It wasn’t easy.

Cara contained a groan as she watched a coworker splash some creamer into a steaming cappuccino. God, everything just looked so fucking hot these days. She was an extremely sexual person and now she felt totally repressed. It was a daily struggle to tame her thoughts and maintain control. But then, she had the paunch to worry about. Growing it any bigger just wasn’t an option for her. Cara grimaced, absently folding her arms over the apron that covered her torso.

“Hey Cara.”

She startled slightly, spinning around to find Greg right next to her; too close as usual. God, why did he have to look so good in those fitted t-shirts he always wore? Her eyes trailed over his muscled arms.

“H-hi,” said Cara, quickly looking away. “I — I have to go fill this order.” She hurriedly grabbed a disposable cup and started fiddling with the espresso machine.

“Right, so…” Greg wasn’t backing off. Instead, he trailed her. “Is everything okay, I mean—with us? Lately you’ve been…well, did I do something to offend you? If so, I—”

“No, not at all,” said Cara, continuing to look away. Because fuck, Greg turned her on so easily. The sheer thought of him undressing had been a staple in her wet dreams.

“I know I’ve been a coward. I should have asked you out ages ago. Let me make it up to you, and take you out to—”

“Greg!” she cut him off, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I’m going through some stuff,” she said, even though it pained her. Going out with Greg was all she’d ever wanted!

His face fell, charm and contentment giving way to embarrassment. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—”

“I’ll back off. Obviously I misread things.” He turned and ripped one of the slips off the cork board.

“Greg—”

“What?” Suddenly he was facing her again, even closer now, giving her his full attention. Her eyes traced the dip of his shirt collar against his collarbone, and her insides tingled. Her belly warmed.

“I need some space!” she blurted. She didn’t realize how loud she had been until she saw the way the customers were staring, their coworker, Flora, spilling some iced chai onto the floor.

Cara clutched her stomach as the heat dissipated. Greg looked how Cara felt—completely mortified. He stepped backed away, arms up in capitulation. She was making a fucking mess of things!

“I just need some air.” Cara hurried out from behind the counter, ducking through the side door that led to the parking lot. Outside, she sucked in breaths of cool air, trying to clear her head as she stumbled to her car. She tried not to think about Greg, her outburst, or the stupid paunch. She didn’t think about how cute and vulnerable Greg had been, and she certainly didn’t think of all the things they could get up to if she accepted his date offer.

Because that wasn’t an option.

Cara had developed some protocols for when her mind went under and slipped too deep into debauchery. She would think of her little brother’s nose full of boogers, or that time Jessica had puked tuna salad all over the living room floor. She would think of naked ninety-year-olds, pus-filled pimples, exploding diapers — all kinds of gross stuff.

Fumbling in her purse for her car keys, Cara hardly noticed the other person standing in the parking lot until they cleared their throat.

She looked up, the air puffing out of her lungs. “Oh,” she managed.

It was Lor.

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