Work Text:
she lays on her back on her bed, looking up at the ceiling, waiting.
suddenly, a blunt purple tendril descends from a hole in the ceiling, bioluminescent and glowing lightly. the tendril reaches down and she opens her mouth. the slick purple tendril slips past her lips, her teeth, and down her throat, watery slick numbing and relaxing her muscles as it slides down. it settles in its place in her esophagus and then begins to pulse, sending a thick syrup down into her stomach. the nutrient-rich goo immediately makes her feel light and giddy, so much so that she doesn’t notice the other two purple tendrils descending from the ceiling and wrapping around her ankles.
the glowing purple tendril extracts itself and returns to the ceiling, leaving her giggling and fuzzy-feeling. suddenly, the two other tendrils pull taught, jerking her lower half up off the bed. she gasps, but she’s too giddy to be frightened. these tendrils don’t glow, allowing them to easily sneak up on her. her upper back still rests on the bed as the tendrils hold her legs up and apart, her flabby abdomen bunching up towards her chest. she stays there, waiting, for some time.
a deep purple tendril, thicker than the others, emerges from the ceiling. this one is wrapped in a brightly glowing mesh-like sheath with several thin, squirming filaments at the end. the thick tendril approaches her entrance, and the bright filaments on the end begin to massage her lips and her bud. she gasps again and squirms a little, but the dull tendrils on her thick legs hold her firmly in place. while the glowing sheath entertains her, the dark purple tendril within begins to push out of the sheath and breaches her entrance, working its way in and out as it presses in deeper.
once fully buried, the thick tendril begins to pulse and release the same slick as the feeding tube, relaxing her muscles and allowing the tendril to pass her cervix. it settles itself in place and then begins to pulse more violently, until a bulge begins to make its way down the tendril from the ceiling, then a second, and a third. The first bulge presses its way inside, through her passage, and deposits into her womb, filling her with a hundred soft, gelatinous eggs, each a centimeter or so in diameter. she feels the pressure as it passes through and squirms, and then the sudden warmth in her belly as the eggs are deposited. the second bulge presses in, and then the third, filling her with eggs until she feels fuller than she’s ever been at oviposition. she’s never been bred with three batches, she’s never made more than two at once before, but she’s still too giddy and high to be frightened. the glowing filaments make her cum, leaving her firmly bound legs shaking, then the ovipositor and its glowing sheath returns to the ceiling. It is quickly replaced with a new appendage, this one dark and dull like the ones around her legs.
it follows quickly behind the ovipositor and comes with no distracting sheath, pushing into passage roughly and jamming itself up against her cervix. it pulses quickly and then releases a thick fluid. she had felt full with just the eggs, now she feels like bursting with the addition of the seminal fluid, and she groans. the unfeeling appendage returns to the ceiling quickly. the other dull tendrils remain, holding her legs, until the effects of the various fluids and chemicals begin to wear off and her cervix closes again, holding the fertilized eggs in place to incubate. it lets her down, and then the tendrils snap back up into the ceiling. she allows her heavy eyelids to close.
when she wakes up hours later, her breasts are unbelievably painful, swollen and aching as if set to burst. her eyes fly open and she sees that they are swollen, her already large breasts now about to burst the two vertical zippers on her suit. she unzips them quickly as she heaves her heavy body up from the bed and over to the milk machine, setting them in the cups and turning it on. it whirs to life and she feels immediate relief, but they don’t decrease in size back to the way they were. she can’t wrestle them back into her suit, a crotchless shorts-leotard with a zipper flap over her breasts to allow for easy milking, and so she lays back down, one flopping to each side. she closes her eyes, confused by the sudden change but not particularly frightened, and drifts back to sleep.
she wakes up four hours later in the same situation, breasts full to bursting and desperate to be milked. she heaves herself up and to the machine again, and again lets it milk her dry before returning to the bed. her production has never been like this before, she never woke up so full.
she wakes another four hours later to a faint purple light in her face, and she opens her mouth without even opening her eyes, admitting the feeding tendril without a second thought, but again she notices how full and painful her breasts are. this had never happened either, usually she needed milking every six hours, not every four, but the feeding tube came every 12 hours, so she must be making more than usual. her breasts ache as she waits to get up to be milked, but the pain is somewhat resolved as the thick syrup pulses into her gut. the tendril returns to the ceiling, and though she feels fuzzy and tired from the nectar, she waddles over to the milk machine again then flops back into bed.
before she falls asleep, the door to her stall pops open, and a worker in coveralls looks in. he laughs when he sees the state of her, suit hanging open, breasts flopped over to the sides, and she scowls. “Looks like you need a size up, don’t you, Sofie?”
She nods.
“Did the big man upstairs bump you up, pretty girl?” She nods again. He laughs again, though this time more of a good natured chuckle as he walks over.
“I thought so, when I saw your production today. I got you, girly, don’t worry.” He strokes her forehead. “You’re doing good, Sofie… Three batches now, and you haven’t even been producing for two years! Soon enough you’ll be making so much milk we can hook you up to a permanent machine, then you won’t have to walk all the way over there!” He points to the machine, then chuckles to himself. “Or, well… waddle.”
He continues to laugh as he takes a mask off the wall and enters a code to turn it on, holding it to her face until she drifts off in a pleasant sleep.
when she wakes again, her suit is much more accomodating, with more space for her breasts and an even stretchier material around her abdomen to give her more room to grow as the eggs mature throughout the month. while she was bred with three hundred small, gelatinous, immature eggs, only around 10 from each batch will survive to maturity. the mature eggs will be oblong, four inches long, with a hard shell in a month's time. she thinks a little on what the worker said as she waddles over to the milk machine. a permanent machine, so all she has to do is lay there and produce… though, maybe she’ll still have to get up to use the toilet? she wonders how many batches of eggs she’ll have to be making to be that productive.