The night was humid and sweltering, the air heavy with an unnatural musk that made my skin prickle. At 8 months pregnant, I could barely waddle through the abandoned corn field, my swollen belly bumping against ripe ears of corn.
A sickle moon hung low in the sky when I heard it – a deep, thrumming drone that vibrated through the humid air. It was nearly below the horizon now. I needed to be back in town before midnight.
Suddenly, rivulets of feverish heat shot up my spine. My skin flushed and I started to pant. What was happening? I felt dizzy, disoriented. Through the haze of heat, I thought I saw movement between the rows of corn – long, writhing shapes darting in and out of the shadows.
That’s when I saw it. A dark opening yawned in the field, pulsing and undulating like a living thing. Trembling, I waddled towards it as if compelled by an unseen force. I had to know. I had to see.
The opening swallowed me whole and I tumbled into a humid, writhing chamber deep beneath the earth. Biotextured walls undulated around me, pulsing in time to the deep bass drone. Hundreds of elongated shapes writhed in the air, tentacles probing. Probing me.
I cried out in shock and revulsion…and raw, ferocious arousal. Even as my mind reeled, some dark, primal part of me knew exactly what this was. The drone, the musk, the things in the walls and the air – it all emanated from a single source.
The queen. A vast, hive-minded entity that craved the ripe flesh of pregnant humans to seed her brood. And I had been chosen. The last moments of lucidity crystalized this as my belly spasmed and rippled, the alien spawns inside me squirming in anticipation.
I was surrounded now, dozens of warm, slick tentacles slithering over my distended stomach. Pulsing orifices attached to my nipples and began to suckle, drawing out jets of milk. The sensation was excruciatingly pleasurable, my pussy clenching and weeping with want.
“Oh god,” I whimpered. “Yes. Please. More.”
Something long and tapered probed between my thighs, pushing insistently at my entrance. It breached me with a surge of wet heat, pumping in and out. In moments, the chamber was filled with the lewd, rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh as I was mounted by the aliens, my body used as a receptacle for their seed.
I was vaguely aware of a new pressure inside me, above the squirming mass of spawns already filling my womb. Eggs were being pumped into me, the queen’s latest experiment pushing my body beyond its limits. I was distending before my eyes, belly swelling with impossible new volume.
“The eggs,” I babbled mindlessly. “So full. I need them. Please.”
A tentacle pushed into my mouth and I sucked it down, moaning around the musky intrusion. My mind was fogging, primal need overtaking reason. All I could think of was the fullness, the pleasure, the completion of being seeded so fully. Fucked so deep and long.
Was I a prisoner? A queen? A vessel? Most likely all of the above. But as my body spasmed and bucked in the throes of a profound orgasm, impaled on the ovipositors and pumping tentacles, I knew I needed only one thing – more. More eggs. More monsters. More breeding.
My final thought before oblivion claimed me was that my belly still wasn’t full. Not nearly full enough.
