For Contemplative Pleasure

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You jolt awake, reflexively trying to pull away-- surely this is a nurse or custodian who doesn't know you also work there-- but your assailant doesn't speak, doesn't reprimand or demand answers. Just holds you down. Just grabs your knees as well-- there must be two of them--Just forces your legs open--

You cry out for help but find your mouth covered by an unseen hand, then there's a cool breath at your ear;

You will give them the life owed to them. The life stolen from them. The life they should have had...

The bed is abruptly adjusted to push you up into a sitting position, and through your scrubs, you feel something cool nudging between your legs. Your scream is muffled as you thrash, trying to get away from whatever it is before it---enters you, pushes itself inside you. More hands--how many people are there??--hold your hips down as the sensation advances, filling your belly with a strange, swelling chill that leaves you feeling strangely bloated, the elastic of your pants pressing into your skin.

Amidst your squirming, one hand travels between your legs, and begins stroking through the thin fabric of your scrubs, making small, almost soothing circles over your clit.

You gasp, trying to twist away from it until another cool pressure begins pushing its way into you. This one feels bigger, the sensation of being stretched accompanied by the stimulation of your clit making you whimper and weakening your resolve. It slides along your walls--are you getting wet?--joining the other strange coolness and you're able to lift your chin just enough to see your belly visibly rise beneath your top, putting you solidly in "ate too much" territory.

Another begins filling you. This time there's no moment to catch your breath between them because as soon as it's entirely in, another cool something presses its way inside of you. The hand is still working your clit in slow, practiced circles and you can feel a growing damp spot where the fabric is being pressed against you. The constant stimulation is beginning to cloud out the panic you felt moments ago, your mind unable to hold both simultaneously even as your belly swells once more like rising bread dough, leaving you looking like you have a half-basketball tucked under your top.

At this point you start feeling an ache in your chest and groan, back arching as if to attempt to alleviate the pain. A pair of hands finds each breast and begins massaging again in that slow, soothing way. In the low light you can see the indentations of fingers pressing into the fabric as you start feeling your bra beginning to tighten. You don't care-- it feels...so nice....

More sensation pushes its way into you. They're continuous now so you quickly lose track, your belly swelling larger and larger like a filling water balloon. You find your hips jerking involuntarily when a particularly large one shoves itself in, twisting and grinding against your g-spot, sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You moan behind the hand over your mouth, your belly pushing out to the size of a watermelon, full term.

And they're still coming.

Your breasts are visibly pulling your top tight, plump flesh beginning to spill over your bra cups. Despite your back pressed back against the mattress, you feel your bra become unhooked, feel your arms gently bent to pull the straps over them before it's tugged up and out of your collar and tossed to the mattress besides you. You get one brief look at your breasts-- now the size of grapefruits, much larger than you started, with swollen nipples poking through the fabric--before the massaging continues again.

You're doing great, says that voice in your ear.

The filling sensation keeps coming, a relentless stream of pressure that has your hips bucking underneath the growing weight of your belly as your clit is continuously stimulated. You're easily overdue with twins now, beach ball sized, your nipples throbbing and breasts swelling to the size of your head and--are those wet spots on your shirt?

Almost as soon as you have that thought, you feel mouths pressed over the outlines of fingertip-sized nipples through your shirt and begin to suck. You gasp, the sensitivity unexpected, and now you're purposefully rocking your hips in time with the ministrations of the hand at your clit, in time with the feeling of fullness still pushing its way into you and filling your belly, now too large to wrap your arms around if you weren't restrained, in time with the rhythmic sucking and lapping of the mouths over your nipples as your breasts, seemingly encouraged by the stimulation, balloon with milk.

"More," you moan behind the hand, "please, more..."

The sets of hands and mouths oblige you-- now there's hands squeezing and kneading your breasts as they're sucked and lapped at, now there's hands stroking and rubbing your filling belly and at your inner thighs, now there's a multitude of fingers trailing and stroking and rubbing your clit, your labia, all the while you're still being filled and filled and filled--

You shriek as the orgasm crashes into you, your walls gripping whatever is inside you in hard, clamping pulses. Milk gushes out of you and drenches the taut fabric of your top in a letdown.

The hands continue stroking and sucking and massaging you through an orgasm that feels like it lasts for ages, the filling sensation finally coming to a stop and you collapse back against the pillow, panting and sweating, ironically, as if you've just given birth.

Then the lights flick on, and with it the sensation of hands disappear. For a moment you think it was a dream and you've just been woken up-- but then you look down, and are able to see yourself clearly for the first time.

Breasts that must be larger than basketballs slump atop a stretchmark-laced belly the size of the labor-assisting yoga balls sitting in the corner of the room, your nipples, cork-sized now, throbbing through your strained top, dribbling thick cream onto the mattress around you. You can feel the fabric between your legs is soaked, your pussy twitching with the aftershocks of an orgasm.

Dazedly you look up and find a fellow nurse standing in the doorway, looking at you with a mix of shock and exasperation.

"The sign's there for a reason, honey," she deadpans.

"I--I was just--"

She puts her hands up as if in surrender. "I'm not dealing with this tonight," she says, reaching back for the light switch. "Have fun. You're in good hands."

"Wait--"

The lights go out, and the door closes.

And then the feeling of hands, so many hands, sliding and rubbing and massaging and--

The roadtrip up begins normally, with them arguing over who gets the aux cord and making fun of each other's music tastes. But a few hours into the trip he starts to feel....odd. A sort of twitchy, tingling feeling in his balls. He ignores it, hoping it'll go away, but it only increases. In fact, they feel a little swollen, still pressing against his thighs slightly even with his legs spread. This isn't an allergic reaction or something to those pills, right?

And worse yet, that twitching feeling is making him hard.

He holds his bag over his lap for the rest of the trip to hide the bulge, though the twitching has turned to a squirming, a churning in his balls has him clenching his jaw and trying his best not to pant as his cock throbs beneath his jeans, but all he can think of is getting off.

He manages to play his sudden quietness off as motion sickness, and when they get there he practically hurls himself from the car, gasping at the feeling of his balls sloshing with the movement. What is happening to him?

He stumbles a few steps, his cock painfully hard and sensitive against his leg--he's not going to make it to the bathroom like he'd planned. He looks around frantically, eyes settling on the lake.

He rushes towards the nearby dock as much as his sloshing balls and throbbing cock will allow, throwing himself into the water and the relative privacy of the water.

He desperately claws at his button and zipper, the denim stiff and unwieldy in the water but he manages to get them down around his ankles, yanking his underwear down and falling to his knees on the silty lake bottom and grips his cock, desperately stroking himself.

Disappointingly, his cock seems to be its usual, average size-- but his balls. He can't quite see through the silt he's stirred up, but when they bump his thighs amid his stroking they feel the size of baseballs.

It doesn't take long before an orgasm grips him, blessedly releasing the tension that had accumulated over the trip and he's nearly sobbing with relief--at least for a moment, until he registers the squirming in his balls is increasing, increasing--until the usual feeling of release is accompanied by a bizarre tightness in his urethra that rolls down his cock until--

He groans as what seems to be a sperm the size of a tadpole squirms its way out of him, squiggling away into the water. Before he has time to fully process this, there's another, then another and he's gasping and moaning and trying not to fall over in the water as he births a veritable swarm of cloudy-white sperm into the water around him with heads the size of a fingertip.

The orgasm stretches on and on, drawn out by the sperm's slow passage out of him, distracting him so he doesn't notice his friends nearing until its too late.

One cannonballs into the deeper water near him in nothing but his boxers, and another two simply throws themselves off the dock, laughing at him as he flinches away from the splash as they're followed by a few more reasonable friends that wade in from the shore.

"Dude, you went right for the lake? Hell yeah," one friend laughs as they swim closer.

He tries to respond but another sperm squirms its way out of him, making him gasp and nearly fall over.

"You okay?" another friend asks, laughing. "That car really fucked you up, huh?"

He tries again to respond, but is saved from doing so when the third friend shrieks, jumping back.

"Something touched my leg!"

"Oh my God, bro, are you serious? Are you scared of fucking perch? We're in a lake, not the fucking ocean."

"It didn't feel like a fish, it--"

Another friend yelps, but this time it's accompanied by a series of frantic cursing and grabbing at his boxers. "Something just--! Something fucking---!"

Another sperm spurts out of him. Another. Another.

"Did something bite you?"

"No it--it--"

"AHH FUCK"

All around him his friends begin to panic as the sperm find them, zeroing in on their body heat and quickly finding holes to squirm into, their pheromone trails leading other sperm to the same places.

And he hasn't stopped cumming yet.

He watches his nearest friend flounder helplessly in the water as a swarm of squiggling white sperm surround him, pushing and shoving each other out of the way as they squirm their way inside of him, his belly quickly swelling out under his hands. Another friend tries desperately to swim away to little avail as the sperm take his face's close proximity to the water as an opportunity to pour into his mouth too.

The sight of it, of his own seed so aggressively and easily subduing his friends is making him........hard?

A third friend desperately bats the sperm away in the water around them, and somehow in the chaos they notice he's still on his knees in the water, seemingly unaffected.

"Help--Help me--" they wade towards him, stumbling and gasping as a particularly aggressive sperm wriggles its way inside of them.

When they regain their footing and stand, rising out of the water, he sees their belly is swollen to the size of basketball, as if they were pregnant when moments before they hadn't been. Not only this, but a few sperm have found their way to their chest, a few more wriggling up their wet torso and pressing themselves into swollen nipples, chest plumping and squirming with each new entry.

"H-help, go get--h..." they pant, cradling their belly as they come close enough to sink to their knees in front of them, catching themselves on his shoulder. "Go..get...h....."

They look down. Down into the water between them where his hard cock is still in his hand and his balls are now easily the size of grapefruits, churning. Squirming.

The friend looks up at him, their eyes wide with understanding and panic as their swollen belly writhes in their hands.

"Dude---dude, don't--"

You will have to learn how to excuse yourself to the bathroom before it gets too obvious. Before you're shaking and whimpering and trying to resist cumming in front of everyone-- or worse.

It doesn't happen every time and you're not sure what triggers it, but sometimes after dragging multiple orgasms out of you the thing will cum in you, and this can go on for a long, long time, thickening and contracting rhythmically against your already-sensitive walls, making you cum again as you feel yourself grow full of something, feel your belly pressing against your shirt, feel your breasts begin spilling out the tops of your cups like rising dough.

The third time you're awoken as an orgasm slams into you, leaving you gasping as your pussy clenches and-- you must still be dreaming, right? Your belly is well into third-trimester territory, the size of a basketball and you swear you hear it slosh when you manage to sit up and look at yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you swear you see something slither out of sight.

The fourth time you stay awake. You considered sleeping somewhere else that night, maybe getting a hotel room, but you have to know what's happening to you. You're leaned back against your head board and nearly dozing off when you feel something touch your ankle and you manage to catch a glimpse of the pale tentacle from your dream before it wraps itself around your leg and impatiently yanks you towards it so you're laying down.

Instinctively you struggle against it, but this appears to be the wrong move because more tentacles slither up and over the sides of your bed and make quick work of pinning you and your swollen belly down and coiling their way up your pajama pants before what feels like a massive mouth envelopes your pussy and begins to suck and lick in ways no human could ever accomplish.

It should feel positively alien, but there's a familiarity about it now that has your pussy gushing eagerly despite your struggling. The creature responds by sliding some kind of writhing, bumpy appendage into you deep.

Then it starts to throb.

Your belly grows tighter as you realize it's filling you with something, each throb grinding against your walls as it gushes into you in pulses. You squirm as your belly swells through the third trimester to full term, then past that--

You wake up the next morning with a belly the size of a beachball that slumps like a massive water balloon on your thighs. You swear your breasts are a little bigger too, spilling slightly over the cups of your bra.

You look back up, bewildered at the woman, who only gives you an exhausted, apologetic shrug. "Sorry. If I do this without anyone around they just go back in and get...even bigger..." She strains again and there's another plop, and you look back down to see another squirming creature--and the first one having slithered over to your shoe.

You yelp and try to shake it off, but it's sticky and quick as the movement seems to startle it up your leg.

"Just...just let it...please just let it..." the woman pants as the tentacle wriggles its way up your thigh, sliding out of your grasp and into your shorts, quickly finding what it's looking for and slithering its way inside of you, making you gasp, gripping the armrest at the not-wholly-unpleasant sensation. There's another few plops as the woman strains, and you begin to hear other passengers gasp and yelp as the tentacles find them. You feel your belly pressing into your waistband and you look to find it rounding out, something squirming, growing inside of you. Your chest begins to ache and you raise a hand to massage it, finding your nipples are swollen--swelling, the swelling quickly spreading to the tissue of your chest as well as your belly grows beneath your hand.

There is chaos. Passengers attempt to flee to adjoining cars but trip over each other, their prone forms easy targets as the tentacles make quick work of slithering their way beneath skirts and pant legs. Some passengers appear to have given in, rocking their hips dazedly as they're impregnated.

You feel another tentacle curl itself around your ankle, and you look down to find that three more are already halfway up your legs--and one apparently had made it higher. You gasp as you feel it slide into you, as you feel the squirming within you increase, your breasts straining against the fabric of your shirt.

"Sorry," the woman tells you breathlessly. Her belly is barely any smaller. If anything, she's a bit bigger, her breasts fully spilling over the cups now, nipples spurting milk with each throb through the wet fabric of her shirt.

You try to stand, to scramble back, but the floor is covered in slimy trails of moisture and you slip, the first slime adheres itself to your shoe, quickly pulling itself under your pant leg despite your attempts to dislodge it, crawling up your leg and easily soaking through your underwear. Even though you're grasping for it, it pushes and slithers into your pussy, making you gasp and whimper as it fills you, grasping at the ground around you. This momentary loss of composure has unfortunately given another slime the opportunity to descend upon you as well, and you shake your leg futilely as it too soaks through your clothes and presses into you, this one undulating in a way that makes your hips jerk as it fills you. You're starting to feel full....you manage to angle your phone light up and see more slimes are pushing their way up from cracks in the concrete floor and the mortar of the walls.

They make quick work of descending upon you, and you try several more times to stand amidst the slick floor as they heave themselves up your legs, some even colliding and merging into grapefruit-sized masses before they press into your pussy. You can't tell if you're wet or if it's from the slimes, but you moan and your hips buck as they slide inside of you. Your belly begins to push out. You try calling for help but find your mouth blocked by a slime that had come from behind, which quickly forces its way down your throat. More slimes gather between your legs and it's becoming very difficult to think between the constant wet sliding against your clit and the way they undulate their way inside of you, rippling against your g-spot as your belly swells well into the second trimester....

A particularly large slime, the size of a medicine ball, pulls itself forward and between your legs and you try once more to heave yourself upright, but your sloshing belly throws you off balance, causing your knees to buckle and resulting in you straddling the slime you were trying to escape, its warmth quickly soaking your pussy and sensitive clit, and you can't stop yourself-- you moan and rock your hips against the firm gelatin-like creature, and it takes the opportunity to begin pushing itself into you little by little with each thrust, your belly pulsing bigger with each rock of your hips, arriving at full-term before even half of the thing is inside you. You keep going.

Your friend, concerned, eventually calls after you and even manages to muster the bravery to descend the stairs-- they find you just as your ass hits the floor and the entire slime slides inside you, the sensation finally sending you over the edge and you shriek as you cum, your belly swelling to the size of a yoga ball, far beyond any human pregnancy.

Eventually two orderlies are sent in and restrain her restrain her arms, handcuffing her to the railings of the bed "for her own safety", though she barely registers it through the urgent aching arousal of her still-growing clit, now easily the size of a small cock. The handcuffs cut into her wrist as she fruitlessly struggles against them, pushing herself up onto her knees so she can at least sloppily grind herself against the mattress as she tries to pull her hands free.

Amidst this struggling, her clit is pushed downwards, so it's flush against her body-- against the opening of her drenched pussy. It feels like an electric shock, and she lets out a choked shriek of pleasure as she re-doubles her efforts grinding her twitching, throbbing clit against her pussy, prompting the orderlies to reappear.

The sight of them makes her more frantic, makes her grind harder, if she can just cum-- Then there's a particularly strong pulse of growth, and her clit pushes itself into her. She nearly blacks out, the combined sensation of penetration and being penetrating shorting out her brain so all she can think about is cumming. Orderlies hold her hips down and gloved hands attempt to extract her clit from inside herself-- but the contact just makes it throb and grow and press deeper, her moans at the brink of turning to sobs at the feeling.

It doesn't matter that her hips are being held in place-- the throbbing of her clit, the feeling of it swelling and lengthening and thickening inside of herself, stretching her-- before any of the personnel can decide what to do, she cums. Her back arches and pussy clamps down hard around her clit, squeezing it in pulses that only stimulate its growth further. The personnel watch as it nears the width of a soda can, and she feels something gush impossibly from her clit, feels a gathering warmth that doesn't stop, that begins to make her feel quite full, that quickly begins pushing her belly out against her gown in pulses.

She quickly surpasses "overfull stomach" to healthy second trimester, as if she has a cantaloupe tucked under her gown, the dual sensations of her pussy being so full and stretched and squeezing rhythmically alongside the feeling of being squeezed bringing her near tears.

"fuckkk it's not...stopping..." she manages, her hips twitching with each gush as she pushes well into third trimester territory, her belly sloshing as the orderlies and doctor look on. Her belly strains the fabric of her gown, the ties at her back unreachable by her still-handcuffed hands. She swells past a full-term with a singlet, twins, her belly coming to rest on her knees like a beach ball filled with warm water. She's practically drooling as the seams at her sides finally rip, moaning with relief as her belly plops forwards, nearing the size of a yoga ball before she finally feels the orgasm subside.

She slumps breathlessly against her belly as they begin to take her vitals, feeling her clit finally slide out of herself. She can't see it beneath her belly, but it feels massive, the length of her forearm and width of a soda can.

Amidst her breathlessness, she feels something shift within her belly--feels something squirm and kick against her heaving, suddenly tender-feeling chest.