Morgan's Year, Part 4: Sasha (Patreon)

Last chapter before the anticipated reunion of these changed figures!

Morgan the Witch decides to summon her old high school bullies before her, years after she developed her shapeshifting magical powers. Daniel, Caitlyn, Sasha, and Pete are in for a surprise, as she twists their forms in karmic rays, ranging from the more human, to the freakishly alien. Of course, there may be a chance for one of them to return to normal again. But just one.

First Part Here

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Morgan’s Year, Part 4: Sasha

Sasha

Sasha squeezed as the impulse to push came over her, and another writhing alien grub wormed its way out of her distended abdomen and out through her birthing tip. She felt the sensitive folds of her soft thorax part, pressing against her alien young until finally it reached the point of no return where more of her inhuman spawn was out rather than in, and the creature slipped easily from her bloated form.

It exited into the waiting hands of her attendant caretakers, though even that word was not quite right. In many ways, they were as much captors as caretakers, tasked with ensuring their new ‘queen’ remained fertile and fecund, constantly swollen with new generations of their species to birth endlessly on their colony ship.

Sasha breathed gently as her body relaxed. She had anywhere between ten minutes to two hours max, she knew, until the next birth would begin. An endless cycle. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since Morgan had turned her into this alien broodmare, but she felt it had been almost a year at least. She had tried counting the days, but it was impossible given that she was on a spaceship in the middle of a great void, travelling onward to an eventual new planet to colonise.

And she would be the one having to swell the population of that colony. It was a prospect that terrified her, especially since what she had been able to figure out from the gross aliens holding her as their queen was enough to know she would become even more fertile once the colony began in full.

Slowly, she had learned the language of the strange new species she was now a part of. It had taken time, and there was still much to learn, but she was now able to have mostly-complete conversations with them. At first, she had railed against ever understanding these gross creatures, but as her isolation in the enormous red and purple chamber continued, with only the passing stars as a changing sight, she had come to desire communication more than anything. From there, she had managed to mimic their buzzing and clacking, her new mandibles allowing her to replicate their sounds even despite the fact that her face was still largely human. And she had learned enough to make her understand just how much Morgan had visited karma upon her.

It seemed she was now their queen, the only female in their alien colony, and the one upon whom their entire next generation hinged upon with her endless production of larva. The previous queen had died, or something. She wasn’t sure. But suddenly she had turned up to their surprise, and they celebrated and worshipped her for her birthing ability. Her ability to produce their larval young.

All over her body she could feel them suckling away - some at her pair of bloated breasts - one of the few signs that she was once human, even if they were freakishly large - the rest atop and at the sides of her immense form. They clung to her, lapping and sucking at the milk her body now perpetually produced and sweated.

Yes, sweated, through what must have been hundreds of little nipples and glands that covered her alien form. She sweated the milk out.

As did this almost daily, sometimes hourly, she whined; "I don't deserve this!"

But her body didn’t listen to her, and the aliens didn’t understand her English. Her womb simply churned, causing her to groan in discomfort and more than a little unwanted pleasure, already producing yet another young to fill the recently vacated space. Her instincts told her it was good to breed, and she knew she wanted to do anything but.

***

Sasha's changes had occurred immediately; from the look in Morgan’s eye she could tell the young witch had wanted to see Sasha humiliated. The other three were flung away to wherever they were sent, their bodies beginning to twist and transform, as if they were already elsewhere but able to be seen from this present location. Sasha, on the other hand, stayed with Morgan longer. It didn’t surprise her as much as she thought: she had always been the queen bitch, the cruel one, the girl that had been meanest of all to her.

“I’m looking forward to this,” Morgan had said.

Sasha felt her body bloat. She clutched her stomach, then her ass, and even her breasts as more and more pressure gathered behind them, and her body swelled. Immense sacs of fat bulged outward as she took on ever greater weight.

"No! No please no!" she cried, reaching out uselessly to Sasha. Her skin began to turn green as the fat expanded, stretched. An immense protuberance emerged from her ass, extending out far behind her and growing in turn. It had a number of rubbery segments, like that of a caterpillar, or a queen ant’s abdomen, or a maggot. She groaned and writhed, her green flesh wriggling and wobbling as all of her expanded. As she cried out, partly in pain, partly due to the alien sensations, she closed her eyes. The last thing she saw on Earth was Morgan waving goodbye.

“Enjoy being a ‘total weird slut’ Sasha,” the witch said. “Wasn’t that what you called me?”

It was only a blink, but the second Sasha opened her eyes again, everything had changed. She was in a large red and purple room with a gigantic view of the stars. Strange medical equipment was mounted on the walls, and in the centre, where she had fallen, there was a large concave pad of sorts, covered over with a strange gel-like substance that radiated warmth. It was comforting, and that very notion horrified her, particularly as she continued to expand, filling this alien dais.

Figures moved in to view her transformation, but her attention was elsewhere. Her tongue extended and strange new antennae burst from her skull.

“HEeEeelLP MeeeEEeee!!” she called, trying to speak with her new, longer tongue. Her eyes widened as she saw the creatures though, and she began to scream.

They were aliens. It was undeniable. With their green, rubbery skin, long antennae, strangely jointed legs and large purple eyes, they couldn’t have been human. They regarded her, chittering amongst themselves as she panicked. They seemed excited, more and more gathering until she had an audience of hundreds in the great chamber.

"Whhyy is th-this h-happening to MEEEEEE!?!"

Her ass grew, becoming rounded and bulbous and pulsating uncomfortably as it became easily the largest part of her. New limbs erupted from her sides, leaving her with six feeble legs to precariously balance her immense form. Her hair fell out, only to be replaced by strange, tail-like protrusions of flesh that writhed without her consent. She felt her face change shape, eyes growing larger and taking in new colours, while her nose sank into her face.

“My face! You can’t take away my face! I love my face!”

She clutched at it, and was shocked to realise she only had three fingers on each hand now; each finger was long and had the same rubbery texture, with the last digit rounded in shape.

“N-no, no no no no this can’t be right! This has to be a dreeeammmmphhhhm!!”

She was interrupted by further expansion. Her breasts jostled, expanding and ripping apart the last remaining parts of her clothing. Her skin continued to turn green, and her antennae extended further, becoming unbearably sensitive.

But the overriding feature was that of her abdomen, which had merged by this point to become seamlessly connected to her bloated belly. It piled behind her like the thorax of a great queen ant. The aliens garbled in excitement, prodding and poking her as the final stages of swelling occurred, rounding her out until she was effectively immobile, her once delightful breasts swollen out like cow's udders. She was easily six or seven times larger than she had been, but her humanoid torso and head was only slightly bigger - twice as big at the very most. It was her insectoid abdomen that was the main source of her mass, easily three or four times bigger than the rest of her.

She breathed heavily, her large form fixed and immobile, too heavy for her newly developed legs to haul her up. She turned slightly, and even that was a struggle, and saw the great, jostling green mass behind her. It was like a zeppelin in shape. Her humanoid top was like a pimple sticking out from her bloated alien body.

The aliens chittered about the area, and the stars rushed passed.

Holy shit, I'm on a spaceship, she thought. I'm on a spaceship and I've turned into one of them.

It didn't take a genius to note that the naked aliens all appeared male, nor the way they looked at her so excitedly now. Sasha grew nervous as the last of her bulbous body inflated into place. She felt a burning in her core, an animalistic need she couldn't identify deep in her swollen abdomen. Something back there was seeping, lubricating, and the aliens moved forward with excitement, still chittering happily. Her antennae twitched, telling her something about them, a change she couldn’t understand.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she cried, flailing her arms uselessly, "change me back! I'm telling you to change me back right now!"

They ignored her, or more likely did not understand her. Some of the strange beings were on their knees, chittering loudly, almost as if they were . . . worshipping her? Venerating her? Something in their movement and form brought to mind the image of ants scurrying about their queen.

Am I their queen? Holy fucking shit, I’m their queen. Oh, this is bad. That absolute bitch. That cunt. How dare she do this to me!

It was a stray thought, one that terrified her. It was horribly confirmed when she felt something part her sensitive opening at its bulbous tip. She gasped, the feeling alien intense, far more intense than sex usually was for her.

"N-no . . . don't . . . leave me alo-ohhhhh!"

She moaned in pleasure despite herself, her additional legs tensing, her antennae flexing automatically as one of the male things behind her entered her. It continued to thrust into her incredibly altered entrance, and she was helpless to stop it. The furthest reach of her hands behind her was over twelve feet away from where the creature was penetrating her, and with each penetration she moaned in unwanted pleasure.

Finally, she orgasmed, as did the creature, and an undeniably sticky glob of something entered her. Her rear lips tensed and contracted, carrying her unwanted lover's load deep into her being.

Sasha was in tears at this point. She reduced further to outright sobbing when she felt the next male step forward and push its hardened member into her being. She began outright wailing when she saw that the males had formed a line, and the third brought her to yet another orgasm. Her immense alien body wobbled in horror as one by one she was inseminated by her many suitors. Several of them tried to calm her with soothing massages and soft chittering, but still she cried and wished in vain that this was all a dream. That her beautiful, thin, busty human body could be hers again.

Of course, that was only the start of her fate to come. The males of the spaceship continued to have their way with her, each depositing their load of globule-like gunk into her nethers, until she had been violated over a hundred times. It happened over hours, and she fell asleep when they were still going, only to wake wearily several times to note that unconsciousness was no barrier to the deed.

Finally, after the last aching orgasms of what must have been over five hundred males, the copulations ended. Sasha was fed a strange writhing dish that disgusted her to her core, and yet was horrifyingly delicious.

And so she waited, totally immobile. Too heavy to shift herself, and with nowhere to go. Occasionally her gargantuan body rumbled with hunger, and immediately an attendant arrived to serve her needs. She tried to converse, but the creatures were always confused. They did not know her language, and simply did their best to comfort her.

She continued to eat and exist for what felt like days. Her body rumbled further, and within her immense abdomen she felt discomforting squirming sensations, a churning of activity that she couldn't make sense of. She thought it was maybe indigestion. After all, this horrifying body Morgan had cursed her with had yet to defecate. God, already she missed her old life so much. Even the act of pissing and shitting was making her nostalgic. There was a growing pressure to push something out from within her, and it was driving her mad that she had nothing to expel.

She wished in vain she had been nicer to Morgan. Or better yet, killed her.

The strange feelings deep inside her large form continued, and only grew more and more distracting. She continued to beg, prey, lash out and curse Morgan, demanding the universe give her old body back, but instead her captors only chittered with fascination as her body - already large - began to expand. It was subtle at first. But soon Sasha woke each day more immobile and fat and alien, somehow feeling even more overburdened that day before. Somehow fuller.

"Uuuuggghh," she moaned one day as they brought in more alien food for her. It must have been nearly a month, but time was impossible to keep track of. All she knew was that she was ravenous recently.

"Sooo fuulll, but soooo hungry . . ."

Her male attendants stroked her flanks as she uselessly rubbed at her stomach, now far too large to even remotely reach much of her bloated belly, let alone her rear. She moaned intermittently, useless legs kicking, clutching those parts of her body she could, from her rigid antennae to her enormous, heavy breasts which had begun to ache. Her once-doughy alien skin had become taut and full, bloated out so that more and more it looked like some terrible egg sac full of young.

That's exactly what it was, except that as a new member of this species, Sasha had no way of knowing that her now-hyper fertile body was growing unbelievably gravid with live spawn. No way of knowing, that is, until she could no longer deny that the strange squirming within her were the first of her soon-to-be-born alien babies.

She fell into labour on her thirty fifth day, she learned later from the aliens, and had been in labour ever since. She cried as she pushed and birthed her first, her breasts leaking life-giving milk, her thorax sweating more of that substance as well. By then she was so full of squirming, so stuffed with jostling, writhing life that it was unbearable. She grunted and groaned as she pushed the first of her many children, belonging to hundreds of different fathers, out from her insect-like womb sac.

"Uugggghh, oooohhhhh, aaahhhhhh, g-get OUT!"

She shouted and wailed and cried as the process continued. Infant-sized grub-like young emerged mewling into the world before crawling along her abdomen to nourish their blind selves on her milk.

Her immense breasts became engorged with the thick green substance, and from then on she always had two of her children tug-tugging away rhythmically at her greatest source of sustenance.

And still she birthed.

And pushed.

And groaned.

And cried.

And whined to anyone that would listen, that she didn't deserve this.

And cursed Morgan to hell for making her this way.

But mostly, she birthed. Her brood grew into the hundreds, the process never ending. For every little grubling that emerged into the world, she became intimately familiar with the rapid development of another in its place. Soon she was constantly covered in a blanket of her own dependent spawn. They littered her thorax, sucking at her milk from the many teats that lined it, or from the sweat glands that produced it, while her older, more developed children suckled deeply from her breasts, which now numbered four; one heavy pair below the other. The upper ones were now easily bigger than her own head each, and given her enlarged size, that made them practically the size of basketballs.

Every moment was an overstimulation. Impregnation, gestation, birthing and feeding. And, of course, requiring constant food to generate her endless pregnancies.

That was Sasha's life, for an entire year.

***

It was a year later when Sasha felt another set of jostling within her incredibly fertile thorax.

"Ohh, calm down back there. Give your momma some rest, please."

She knew it did her no good. Already the slow contractions were beginning for the next little grubbling. She sighed, patted her prodigious upper bosom upon which two of her more developed young suckled greedily, and made a motion for her feeding nozzle to be lowered.

She was a very, very big eater these days. She had to be. Her body would keep gestating her alien young whether she was fed or not. She had tried to starve herself into not not producing several times in that first month and all it did was give her agony, as well as startle and frighten her many male caretakers.

Sasha rode out the contractions, which were no longer painful and now just mildly discomforting if resisted. After a year of perpetual pregnancy she had grown accustomed to knowing when to patiently wait out the early movement of a young, and when to push. She was an expert in birthing by now. Her young crawled over her as they always did, finding various teats to suck upon. She could feel her green milk being extracted from dozens and dozens of pores across her bloated surface and sides.

The nodule lowered for her to feed, and she guzzled down the delicious soft concoction. She'd hated it once, thinking it tasted like toothpaste. Now she couldn’t live without it, literally, associating it with the powerful instinct to produce. She relished the taste, almost as if her new body was programmed to.

“MMmhhmmm,” she moaned, sucking it down.

Her form tensed, and her opening parted. She grunted even as she fed, and used her thorax muscles to gently glide her latest of thousands of grublings into the world. She groaned even as she fed. It was pleasure and horror at the same time.

Sasha was tired. She was miserable from birthing. She was sick of her unjust fate. She dreamed of killing Morgan, of turning that bitch witch into the very form she possessed now. Forcing her to birth these damned grubs endlessly. Make her be pregnant with thousands of weird alien grubs.

She ruminated on that thought as her latest little grumbling crawled out of her opening and clung to her rubbery skin, shifting blindly in search of a vacant teat to suckle. It found one within minutes, and began to nurse, and Sasha sighed gently as she felt a particularly full gland of milk finally being relieved.

A door to her chamber dilated open, and a grown male entered. She could sense his presence with her antennae, and his arousal. She rolled her eyes.

“Come to fuck me, have you?” she said in their alien language.

“Yes, my Queen. You must be mated for the good of the colony.”

“Uughh, fuck this life! Fuck it! Hurry up then! How many matings must I put up with today?”

He clacked an answer, and she shivered in instinctive anticipation and irritation. He had either said the word for fifty or one hundred and thirty. Their number system made no sense to her. Either scenario was scarily possible.

“Fine, just fuck me. Form your damn line. Just - UGGghghh - catch this grub for me.”

It was just as she sighed that a great white light enveloped her, and she felt herself being pulled elsewhere. Her alien attendants chittered in horror and shock, moving to her grotesque, swollen sides. Her six useless legs writhed in confusion, and in moments she was elsewhere, along with several hundred of her nursing young still clinging to her.

“Finally!” she screamed, not even realising she was still speaking ‘Bug.’

To Be Continued . . .