Nest - Male Version (8 Parts) (Patreon)

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Summary: Connor is pregnant with large alien beetles which are forming a nest inside his abdomen. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.

Note: This is a male version of Nest.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

1.

The Doctor didn’t come home until late that night, pulling into the warm suburban neighborhood with a tired frown on his face.

He came home late most days and left early as well. He hardly saw his wife and two children anymore. But his work at the government lab was important, and they had just received a new meteor sample from the landing site discovered in Armidale.

The Doctor knew it was probably another dead lead. He and his colleagues would pick the sample apart and test it for everything under the sun. They would search tirelessly—for what—alien entity? Much as he loved his field, The Doctor was growing jaded with the process. He must have gone through thousands of samples of potential “extraterrestrial origin,” and nothing had ever yielded anything of interest.

The Doctor was so weary, he hadn’t even remembered to properly decontaminate himself when he left the facilities that evening. Getting out of his car, he quietly entered his house. He shed his scrubs and lab coat in the bathroom hamper, where it was mixed with the other clothes there. He crept into his bedroom and quietly settled in bed, being careful not to rouse his wife from her sleep.

-

When Connor awoke the following morning, he blinked the sleep from his eyes, groggily climbed out of bed, and headed downstairs to the kitchen where his mother was up, about, and making coffee.

“Dad left early again?” Connor asked, looking around.

“You just missed him,” said Mom, offering an apologetic shrug.

“Still loving his job, I see,” said Connor, idly poking around the fridge. He withdrew a cheese stick.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Mom, with a wry look. “Fresh laundry,” she added, nodding to a basket of clothes sitting in the corridor just outside of the kitchen.

Chewing on the cheese stick, Connor grabbed up the laundry basket under his free arm. He went back to his bedroom, where he quickly got washed and dressed. He was in his senior year of high school, and though it was the weekend, Connor was scheduled to visit a potential college that afternoon. Though he tried to savor his last few months at his family home, he was excited to finally move out and venture into a level of adulthood that his eighteenth birthday, at home, with homemade cake and eighteen candles, just hadn’t offered him.

Connor pulled a pair of jeans out of the basket, and peeled away a thin, white robe of some sort, before recognizing it as a lab coat. Dad’s stuff got mixed in with mine, he thought, as he put it aside, to join one of his brother’s missing socks that sat collecting dust on his dresser.

Connor finished getting dressed, donning a t-shirt and sweatshirt with his jeans. He ran his hand through his messy hair as he walked out of his bedroom, grabbing his sneakers out of the hallway closet.

His clothes felt itchy that day, almost tickling him, like there was a stray gnat somewhere, tickling his skin, especially in the groin and ass region.

Connor fidgeted and adjusted himself as he returned to the kitchen, doing his best to keep it discreet. “I’m off,” he told Mom, who was by then nipping at some stale popcorn from last night.

“Catching a ride with your brother?” Mom asked.

“No, this campus isn’t too far. I’ll just bike there. Tell Charlie he owes me one.”

“Mm,” Mom gave a noncommittal hum as Connor walked out of the house and began to unchain his bike from the side of the garage.

-

Connor was itchy throughout his tour with the college officials, really itchy. He almost felt as though something was crawling on him. He tried to ignore it, and look composed. He asked intelligent questions and attentively examined facilities. Seck University was one of his top choices. But then, he also had four other top choices. He had a wealth of options, which wasn’t really helping with his tendency towards indecisiveness.

His brother, Charlie, worked at a mechanic shop a few blocks from the house. Connor stopped there on his way back from the college. He brought two sandwiches from a nearby deli, and Charlie started his lunch break to join him in a spare office.

Connor sat down, and just as he unwrapped his sandwich, his stomach seemed to lurch, in an odd way it never had before. “I—er—” he stammered, then just gave up on words, and raced to the closest bathroom.

He leaned down to puke, but all that emerged from his throat was a massive belch that made his face hot. He wasn’t sure what was going on with him, he just hoped he wasn’t getting sick. He tried to recall if he had eaten anything unusual that day, but he was certain all he had consumed was a cheese stick and an apple.

His stomach continued to lurch. He waited several moments, and when he was fairly confident that he wasn’t going to throw up, Connor returned to lunch with his brother.

-

Over the next few days, Connor felt unusually lethargic, and his appetite had surged. He found himself snacking constantly on junk food, which was new for him, but he wrote it off as anxiety about his college search. He would worry about his eating habits later, when he finished all his tests and applications, and had finally picked out a school.

He was also very gassy, and found himself frequently burping to relieve his gas buildup. And his belches were always unreasonably loud.

He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was too busy to really address it. When he got dressed in the mornings, he could see that his stomach had developed a growing curve. He would promise himself that he would eat better that day, but never really followed through.

He was working relentlessly throughout the week to maintain his near-perfect grade point average. Mom would look at him in concern and encourage him to take things easy. Dad continued to be absent, and absorbed in his job. Connor caught him when he stayed up late one evening to finish an essay. Dad patted his shoulder and told him goodnight. Dad then appraised Connor for a moment with a frown. When Connor went upstairs and surveyed himself in his bedroom mirror, he wondered if he really was putting on weight.

His stomach was a rounded curve that was starting to push into his t-shirt, actually. The material usually hung loose down his torso but was now lying against Connor’s gut. Connor sighed and shook his head. “Once I’m done with the school year, I’ll deal with this,” he promised himself.

The following day, Connor awoke slowly, as he often did now, particularly on the weekends, when his alarm wasn’t set to wake him up. He yawned and opened his eyes to narrow slits, before closing them again, and entertaining the thought of just snoozing until the afternoon, when the weird lurch, more of a twitching started up in his gut, and this time reverberating outside of him, on his skin. It was like something was crawling on him, something solid and tangible, that made him squirm till he realized it wasn’t just sensation. Something actually was on him! Connor was suddenly wide awake. He scrambled in his bed and tore off his sheets, just in time to catch sight of a bug on his thighs, a big one that was a bright purple color he had never seen on an insect before. He quickly got off the bed.

Connor’s heart was pounding. He hated bugs. This one was crawling rapidly. It was round, almost fat looking. An odd beetle of some sort. Connor went to his closet where he grabbed an old boot. He returned to his bed, and was dismayed to see that the insect was gone.

“Fuck.” He tore the remaining sheets off the bed, but still no sight of the insect. He looked under the bed, then the dresser, and began to, frankly, tear his room apart in search.

There was a light knocking on the bedroom door. Mom poked her head in. “Everything okay in…” Mom trailed off, a frown twisting her face as she saw the state of Connor’s room.

Connor grimaced. “There was a bug.”

“Connor—seriously?” said Mom. “Clean this up. It’s just a bug. I’m sure you’ll survive.” And with one more dour look, Mom left, closing the door behind her.

Connor dropped the boot.

Mom was right. He was overreacting and being ridiculous. It was just a bug. It had been in close contact with Connor’s skin and had not caused him any harm.

As Connor sheepishly began to return his clothing to the dresser and his books to the shelves, he wondered if he was imagining the continuing twitching in his gut and the general crawling sensation that covered his skin.

-

It kept happening. The bright purple bugs popped up out of nowhere. It was maddening and made him feel paranoid in his own bedroom. He had failed to catch or kill even one. He had resorted to putting some insecticide in the corners but it didn’t seem to be doing any good.

His mother treated him like he was being childish. “They obviously haven’t hurt you,” she chided over dinner that evening. “I don’t see one bite on your skin.”

It was true. Connor wasn’t getting any bug bites. But he could still feel them crawling on him the moment his guard was down. Once he swore he saw one in his shirt!

He had even tried sleeping on the couch in the living room, but the bugs seemed to follow him. He felt as though he himself was infested. He thought of talking to Dad, but he’d probably suggest that Connor was committed.

Maybe I should be.

It was Charlie who convinced Connor that he wasn’t going insane.

“I actually did see one,” he mentioned over breakfast one morning. “In the toilet of all places. Huge. I flushed it.” He gave a cheeky grin.

Mom made a face. “Maybe it’s time to call the exterminator...”

“Please,” said Connor in relief.

“Eat your grapefruit,” Mom chided.

Mom had been pushing fruit and vegetables on Connor any time she could, always marketing them as though she was getting paid to. It wasn’t as though she discouraged Connor from eating other things. Connor supposed it was Mom’s polite way of trying to address the elephant in the room.

Connor’s increasing weight.

His stomach was really starting to stick out. It was sort of embarrassing. He had always been skinny, and moderately athletic. The stomach weight just looked bad on his slim build.

Making a note to try to hit the gym that week, Connor shoved some more eggs and bacon onto his plate. He spent the day studying, tutoring, and volunteering at the local hospital—volunteer work looked good on college applications—before having a late dinner with some friends, and all but collapsing to bed when he got home. To his disappointment, there was no sighting of his father.

Connor tossed and turned most of the night, his stomach really lurching now. His indigestion had not improved, only exacerbating with time. He had to belch almost hourly, and his gut felt as though it was constantly bubbling. He wondered if he was suffering a medical issue, but pushed the idea aside to address later, when he actually had free time to. In his discomfort, he turned and fidgeted, frequently waking from his sleep. His latest drift into consciousness presented him with his pitch-black room and the familiarly horrible sensation of something crawling—on his ass!

Connor scrambled madly. He threw off his sheets and managed to turn on his bedside lamp, before shoving down his underwear. One of the insects was crawling about in the groin of his boxers. “Shit,” he said in disgust.

2.

Connor continued to find the bugs, not just on his body, but in his briefs. And frequently. He found himself scrambling out of his underwear at least twice a week. He didn’t know what to say to his family, besides continuing to complain about the presence of the bugs. The house had already been fumigated twice, but it did nothing to mitigate the severity of Connor’s problem.

Charlie and Mom seemed to be fine, though. They hardly ever saw the bugs and weren’t bothered by them. This just frustrated Connor more. Why did the weird insects seem to be targeting him?

One night during dinner, he felt a familiar wriggling around his ass. But not just in his briefs. The insect was deeper. He felt it against his butt crack. No—it was inside.

Releasing a yelp, Connor leapt to his feet and ran off, his mother and brother staring in shock after him. He hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him, before all but ripping off his clothes. He didn’t see the insect when he jerked down his pants, and found himself desperately reaching into his hole to scoop the insect out. Once it smacked to the floor between his feet, he began to gag.

What kind of a bug crawled up a person’s ass? This couldn’t go on. It was fucking disgusting.

Connor went to his room and pulled out two pairs of tight briefs. He pulled out some lube as well and grimaced as he eased himself down on an anal plug he had received as a gag gift from that one semester he’d tried football. He knew that it wouldn’t stop the bugs from getting into his clothes, but would at least prevent them from crawling up his ass again.

His appetite gone, Connor collapsed to his bed and curled up on his side. He squeezed his eyes shut until he dozed off, with the lights on, and the thought that he couldn’t wait to be out of his family’s insect-infested house.

-

When Connor awoke in the middle of the night, it was to the horrifying sensation of another bug just within his rectum, only this one was more intense, more wide, as though it wasn’t one bug, but several.

Somehow he withheld a stream of obscenities as he scrambled up and pulled down his shorts and briefs only to see that his plug was still in place. Baffled, he pulled the plug free, causing several insects to sprinkle to the ground around his feet. He dropped the plug in shock before stumbling back, falling onto the bed, where he winced. His butt was sore.

“How the hell…” he trailed off. There was no way those fat bugs could have crawled past the butt plug. It was fitted too tight, it just wasn’t possible.

The only other explanation was that the insects hadn’t come from outside of him, but that…well, it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t even possible.

Connor felt numb. He looked down at his floor, though by then, the insects had predictably scrambled off with no trace. He recovered the anal plug and took it to the bathroom, where he washed it in the sink. He pulled down his briefs and groaned as he replaced the device, then gingerly climbed back into bed. But rather than going to sleep, he lay there with the lights on. He didn’t even put on shorts or pajamas, he just lay in his briefs, with the sheets off. He focused his eyes on the mattress, waiting for a bug to crawl onto him. None did.

It was probably hours that he stayed awake, but Connor was focused. He needed answers, and he needed them desperately. Just when the sky began to lighten from black to navy hues, Connor experienced a familiar wriggling shallow in his hole, and felt something nudging against the sheathed part of the plug.

He pulled down his briefs and push gently until something small popped free. Another bug. Another bug had appeared, and not from outside of his body. Somehow, it had come from…within.

-

Connor was dazed.

He didn’t know how to react besides the underlying disgust that had colored his everyday life. Only, it was a deeper, more depressing sensation that he was offered no release from at any point that day.

The insects had crawled out of his body. All this time, he had thought that his house was infested with bugs. But as it turned out, he was the one who was infested.

He didn’t even know how it was possible. He went on the internet and did a search for terms like “human parasites,” and “purple bugs,” but he never came up with helpful results, and he could not find the odd, fat insects that seemed to be crawling out of his body.

He found himself squirming and fidgeting throughout the day, even when he couldn’t feel them on him. He thought about seeing a doctor, but it was too humiliating.

As far as he could tell from his online research, few parasites could do serious harm to his body. He decided that rather than seeing the family doctor, and having his mortifying medical issue get back to his parents, he would wait for a chance to see a new physician, one that his parents weren’t familiar with.

It was still very odd. He knew on some level it was hardly normal, or even really—possible, was it? Actual bugs, crawling out of someone’s body. They were insects. They crawled around, visible, and functional in air, scuttling about his bedroom. There was something very unnerving about that. He just hoped that no one realized what was going on before he got the issue under control.

-

His stomach was gassy.

It was constantly groaning or bubbling, and he would massage it at night as he belched and tried to kneed out the gas.

He was only getting fatter, and heavier, his body more awkward. He seemed to have been hit with a slew of medical issues all at once, but did his best to distract himself.

It wasn’t easy. He was now finding bugs nightly, usually in his briefs, and not just one or two, but small clumps. It was disgusting. The ones that he could catch were flushed down the toilet. The others were content to scuttle around his room, popping up when he opened drawers or moved furniture. His family members made no mention of a growing insect infestation, so it seemed to be isolated to his bedroom, at least for the time being.

Sometimes when he saw the insects, he wondered if they weren’t bigger than they had been originally. They looked fat and squishy, and as much as he thought about crushing them, he was just too disgusted. He continued to catch the ones he could and dispose of them in the toilet. He was becoming desensitized to the bugs. At times he would pick them up with his fingers, when in the past, he would never have considered it.

Well, they had been inside of him. It was hard to be squeamish when the bugs had actually come from his own body.

The sheer number of them was alarming. How could his body be producing so many? Unless they were…reproducing—well, obviously they were. Wasn’t that what parasites did? Digesting it all was rather dizzying.

His stomach continued to swell.

Connor tried to alter his wardrobe, wearing loose jerseys or baggy T-shirts in an attempt to disguise the way his stomach was growing. It was an odd accompaniment to his infestation, in a way that was almost…not coincidental. Oftentimes his gut would lurch, or tickle, and tingle in a way that made him feel as though things were crawling around on his insides. But most of the time he tried his best not to think about it. Because when he did, it became exceedingly obvious what was going on.

His appetite continued to surge, but in peculiar ways. He discovered a fondness of all foods, even those he had previously disliked. He gravitated towards anything sweet: chocolates, pastries, honeys, syrups. One night he found himself scooping spoonfuls of sugar out of the sack, and allowing each to melt in his mouth. He took the whole thing back to his room, and feigned obliviousness when his mother asked if he had seen it.

His belly was getting firmer. It was almost oddly round, and made him look as though he was six months pregnant, despite his being a guy. Charlie sometimes looked at him oddly and Mom seemed concerned. Connor knew that he should expect a conversation any day now.

Testing was stressful. After all, these grades might determine the trajectory of his life. Connor found himself with a full bottle of syrup stuffed in his backpack, and whenever he got the chance, he snuck off to the bathroom and found himself sucking down large gulps of it. His thighs quivered and his hole had the perpetual sense of being occupied. It was unnerving, the sensitivity of it all. He felt jittery from the sensation and it didn’t help with his growing panic.

Midway through an exam, his ass tingled, and he could feel something wriggling, pushing into his briefs. But it didn’t stop. More and more insects pushed out of his opening, forming a lump in the seat of his shorts as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the insects squirm against him.

It was such an unpleasant sensation. He felt as though his skin was crawling. He felt his hole stretch farther as more insects happily exited, as though to sabotage his efforts to get into a good college.

His belly felt as though it was throbbing. His skin was sweaty and flushed, and sort of itching. He tried in vain to focus on his exam, and was repetitively brought back to the growing discomfort and embarrassment in his ass. What if someone had begun to notice? What if the bugs started spilling out of his pants, right there in the exam room?

He raced his way through the remainder of the questions, knowing that he wasn’t doing nearly his best. Almost hysterical in his frustration, he heaved himself up and hurried off to the nearest bathroom, not daring to look back to see if anyone had noticed his dilemma or if he was spilling any bugs in his wake.

Once he had locked himself in a stall, Connor pulled down his pants, only for a fat blob of the bugs the spill onto the floor. He moaned in disgust, stumbling slightly as some began to crawl right back up his legs. Others scrambled off, seeking to get out of the light. Connor shuddered silently as he felt bugs squish back into him as yet others crawled out, and he was helpless to stop it.

He went home with the sensation of more insects pouring out of his hole. He went straight to his room and locked himself in, before stripping off his shorts and briefs, and standing sideways in the mirror.

Every few seconds, a fat purple insect emerged from his crack and dropped freely to the floor. He could see and feel it. There was no question of whether he was producing them. They were coming from inside of him, from in his…stomach. He cupped his bloated mound in unease. He couldn’t imagine how much there were, but there had to be a lot, for them to be stretching his stomach, pushing it outwards. It was unnervingly extreme.

Over dinner that night, Mom finally decided to ask Connor about the weight gain.

“It’s just stress.” His insides churned as his hole tingled, and he clenched his ass as tightly as he could. “I'll drop it off after I get sorted with college. God, I didn't think I looked that bad.”

“Of course not!” Mom quickly cut in. “I’ve just been worried about you. You seem really anxious lately. Are you sure everything is okay?”

Connor felt his cheeks heat up. Charlie was looking at him dubiously.

“Everything’s fine,” Connor grumbled as he bitterly bit into a fried chicken leg.

3.

When Connor lay in bed that night, and tried to sleep, he could feel the bugs crawling all over his body, rather freely now, with a sense of ownership. Even when he brushed and swatted at them, they could hardly be bothered by his less than welcoming treatment.

He tossed and turned, seeking a comfortable position. But by morning time, he wasn’t even close to well-rested.

In a daze, he put on some shorts and a baggy T-shirt.

During his ride to school, he realized his mistake.

The bugs made thick, crawling rivers along the inside of his thighs. They were so active, his hole felt as though it was pulsing. Once he got to school, he sped off to a bathroom with his gym bag, and pulled on a pair of running tights, then pulled his shorts back on over them.

He groaned, unsure of whether this was at all an improvement. Now the bugs forced themselves along, uncomfortably dragging against his legs, while partially squashed by the tights. If anyone paid attention, they would see moving bulges along his legs, and a thickening lump at his ass.

But he didn’t have any other options. It hid the actual bugs, and he didn’t have any baggier pants, not with him. Breathing heavily, Connor made his way to class.

His belly was only getting tighter. There was a continuous twittering sensation within it. He swore, he looked as though he was seven months pregnant. It was just awful.

He tried his best to hold the bugs in during an essay. He made an impromptu diaper out of some plastic bags he’d gotten in the janitor’s closet. He could feel the bugs piling up between his hole and the plastic, against it, trying to force their way free.

Instead the pressure in his gut surged uncomfortably, until he had to pause several times to cup his lurching stomach.

His insides churned visibly. He was just so tight, so full, it felt as though the things were struggling, and fighting against his drawn skin.

He swore he saw a knot rolling along his flesh, the outline of a particularly fat insect. He felt like he might be sick.

Connor found himself again racing through the remainder of his school work, before excusing himself, and racing to the nearest bathroom.

He jerked down his pants and the plastic as he dropped down on the toilet. He felt a clump of bugs plop heavily out of him, before they began to just sprinkle down into the water, their movements against his hole making his shudder.

Some crawled along his thighs, up his belly, even his chest. He just twitched and pushed, trying to get as much as he could out. There was another plop into the toilet. He sighed when his stomach finally stopped cramping.

Flicking stray insects off his torso, Connor leaned back against the toilet. He lifted his backpack from the ground and began to rummage through it.

He wasn’t sure why he decided to do it at that moment, but he pulled a large bottle of maple syrup out of his backpack, opened the cap, and began to suck it down.

His belly heaved with his long sucks, some syrup even dripping down his chin and rolling along his chest, leaving sticky sweet trails.

He may have been imagining it—but he felt an abrupt decrease in activity. Connor sucked more and more, indulging, but also experimenting. The bugs on his thighs seemed to trail back inside him. The others, already packed in his stomach, seemed to move more slowly now, almost lethargically. He felt a sense of contentedness. Were they feeding on the syrup? Was it calming the frenzy?

Connor lowered the bottle from his lips, slumped back, and sighed, taking advantage of the slight reprieve from discomfort and squirming.

He couldn’t afford to keep having these issues. There was no way he would get through the remainder of his exams, let alone the start of college, like this.

He needed a permanent solution. And he knew that meant a professional consult.

Still feeling too mortified to visit the family physician, Connor realized his next best option. After all, he had some brilliant classmates.

-

That evening, Connor made a call to one of his classmates.

“Reyna, I really wanted to talk to you,” said Connor breathlessly that evening. He absently rubbed his hand up and down his bloated belly.

Reyna sounded skeptic on the other line. “You’ve hardly even talked to me the whole semester. What about your studies?” She added sarcastically. Connor could practically hear Reyna rolling her eyes on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Rey. You know I can be really one-track-minded,” said Connor, growing desperate. Reyna was the smartest person he knew, and the girl was absolutely obsessed with the biomedical field. “Hang out with me. Let me make it up to you.”

There was a pause on the other line. “You sound like you want something.”

There was no denying it. It would be abundantly clear the moment Reyna spotted him anyway. “Yes, well, I…seem to have run into a medical issue.”

“Connor…” Reyna reproved.

“A very unique one,” Connor insisted. “Honestly, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard seen. It will be worth your while.”

There was a long pause. When Reyna finally spoke, she still sounded dubious. “When are you free?”

“My parents will be out of town all weekend, and Charlie’s gonna be working,” Connor breathed in relief.

“See you tomorrow, then,” said Reyna. “I hope you have something good for me.” With that, she hung up.

Connor lowered the phone.

The bugs were really active again. It felt as though they were swarming, squishing, pushing out at his stuffed insides. He whimpered, and grasped for the syrup bottle on his nightstand. He took several generous gulps, but it only calmed down the bugs by a marginal degree.

Then Connor’s hand and the syrup bottle were moving. He didn’t know why he did it, or quite what he was thinking, but he brought the spout of the syrup bottle down between his thighs, spread his legs wider, and tilted the bottle until it made contact with his anus.

He groaned as the sticky fluid began to pour inside of him. With his free hand, he hastily shoved a pillow under his ass, lifting it up slightly, so gravity would aid the syrup through his passage. “Ohhh…” he groaned, face reddening. Vaguely, he began to wonder what the hell he was doing? But there was a marked decease in activity, the insects inside him feeling as though they had abruptly frozen in place.

There were stragglers on his thighs and the bed around him, which rapidly crawled back into his hole, causing him to groan as his belly tightened. But those, too, became still once inside him. Whimpering in disgust, Connor continued to pour.

He finished the rest of the bottle. It had been half-full. His belly felt bloated, full, and heavy, and as he encountered the mirror, he couldn’t believe how much he had grown, how huge he had gotten in only a matter of days, his belly resembling a pregnancy, stretching him as it pushed away from his body. The sheer mass of bugs that he could be harboring just made him grimace in revulsion. But he tried not to think about it. Instead, he tried to appreciate the complete inactivity, no bugs scrambling in or out of him. It was their first episode of complete motionlessness since this whole thing had started. So he decided to take advantage of it, and relax.

He rummaged in his dresser for the butt plug to keep the bugs, and the syrup, inside him.

-

Connor awoke the next morning, thighs spread, hips twitching, and belly lurching. He became abruptly aware that the bugs were back to their vicious squirming, though fortunately, it wasn’t too frenzied. Connor absently held the side of his abdomen.

He had been up most of the night, musing about it, when he should have been sleeping. But he couldn’t help thinking that it had been the perfect condition to be test-taking, the insects no longer distracting him or escaping his body. Before his next exam, he could try the syrup treatment again, gross as it was. It was time to step up his grades.

Connor removed the plug, but found no sticky syrup residue. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, a loud belch escaped his throat, one that tasted like maple syrup and smelled like it too. It reminded him that he might want to stock up on more syrups, honeys, icings, and other sweet, squeezable substances.

As he stood up, another long belch escaped him. It seemed he was having a resurgence of gassiness, but at least he didn’t have school that day. Besides that, he was still new to—well, to being fat—and it was nice to have a break from feeling self-conscious.

Connor pulled on a baggy shirt and left his room. He had woken up late, which meant Charlie and his parents were already gone, and he didn’t have to be discreet about his bump. He belched a few more times, scratched his side, then sat down on the couch. He idly massaged his bloated flesh, trying to kneed out the gassiness, and trying to ignore the strengthening lurches of movement.

Eventually he couldn’t put off his feelings of hunger any longer, and heaved himself up from the couch. His appetite had surged in the past few days. Connor made his way to the kitchen, looking around to see if his family had left any breakfast for him.

There was a modest plate of eggs and bacon in the oven, with a slice of toast. It was almost too modest, not the generous portion of food he was accustomed to his mother dishing out for him.

“But I’ve gained weight,” Connor murmured sardonically as he pulled the plate out.

He demolished the food in only a moment or two. Afterwards, he breathed heavily, uncertain of why he felt so anxious.

The bugs had not calmed, but were growing more frantic in their movements. It was clear that their hunger had not been satisfied. And neither had his.

Connor opened the refrigerator. There was a large mixing bowl of leftover mashed potatoes and gravy from the night before. Mom had intentionally made too much, knowing that Connor and Charlie were unlikely to cook while she was gone for the weekend.

Connor pulled out the bowl. He got a spoon from a drawer.

Not bothering to sit down, he set the bowl on the counter, and began to dig in, shoving spoon after spoon into his mouth, gulping it down. It was soft and slithered easily down his throat, lurching into his stomach. Though his belly was already bloated, he felt a weird contentedness in the discomfort. Connor scraped the bowl clean, then sighed, leaning his hands on the counter. The bugs had slowed down, almost placated.

Despite it, he found himself wandering back to the fridge to see what else his mother had left.

There was a massive container of macaroni and cheese. Connor picked it up and stuck it under his arm, allowing the cover to topple to the floor. He began to dig in with the same spoon as before, absently munching and swallowing as he continued to look through the fridge, barely conscious that he had already gotten something.

There was pizza leftover from the previous day’s lunch. Meat lovers with extra cheese. Six extra-large slices sat cold in the box. Charlie had ordered it, but had gotten distracted two slices in. Managing to grab the pizza box while closing the fridge door with his foot, Connor brought his bounty back to the kitchen table. He dug in voraciously, food getting everywhere, but the vast majority of it getting down his throat.

He was breathless by the time he finished both the pizza and the macaroni. He almost went back to the fridge for something else, when he stopped, really taking inventory of himself. He looked at the food sprinkled around him, at his dirty clothes and arms—at some point he had given up on the spoon and started shoving macaroni into his face with his bare hands.

His stomach gurgled audibly and another loud belch escaped from his throat.

“Oh god,” Connor breathed, clutching his stomach. He shook his head, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself.

There was a knocking on the front door, and there couldn’t have been a worse time for it. Rather stunned, Connor wiped some gooey cheese off his face (if anything, just smearing more), before turning around and numbly making his way towards the living room.

4.

The expression Reyna wore was one of bafflement. “You’re huge!”

Connor flinched at Reyna’s volume. He glanced around in paranoia even though he knew no one else was home. “That’s the problem I’m having.” He motioned to his swollen stomach. “I think I have…parasites.”

Reyna looked at him skeptically. “There’s no way that—”

A bug chose that moment to fall out from Connor shorts and plop onto the floor. It startled both students into silence, Reyna looking like she might jump out of her skin and Connor reddening in mortification.

As Connor looked down at the individual insect, for the first time he noticed that it seemed bigger than when he had first started to spot them. He wondered if all the bugs inside him had gotten larger. He shuddered.

“What the hell was that?” said Reyna, looking nauseous.

Connor shifted awkwardly in the oversized T-shirt he was wearing. “Parasite,” he managed.

“Connor, that’s not a—what the fuck!” said Reyna, jumping back as several more insects splattered onto the floor.

Connor felt as though his face might catch fire. “Okay, if it’s not a parasite, then…nghhhh…whatever it is.” He held his stomach as it gave a lurch. “These things are inside of me Reyna. I need your help.”

Reyna was aghast and proceeded to stare at Connor for a moment. She started to laugh, but her smile fell when he saw that Connor wasn’t laughing as well. After that, Reyna actually pinched herself. All the while Connor shifted uncomfortably, clenching his ass as the pressure inside him shifted downwards.

“This isn’t some messed up dream?” said Reyna eventually.

“No,” said Connor impatiently.

“And it’s not a weird prank?”

“Reyna,” Connor pleaded, but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. His thighs quavered as a fat wad of insects all but plopped onto the floor.

“Dios mios!” Reyna said, backing up far enough to hit the wall. The puddle of bright purple beetles squirmed about, most of them crawling up Connor’s legs again.

“Gnhhhh…are you gonna help…or not…?” Connor groaned, clutching the bottom of his churning gut.

“Connor—what the fuck?” Reyna said. She paused and tried to better articulate herself. “I mean—what the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” Connor answered. “I just woke up one day and I was—I was infested. I don’t know where they came from, I just know that it’s getting worse. Th-they’re in my stomach, Rey. And I think they’re mm…multiplying.” Connor released a belch and dropped several more bugs from between his trembling thighs.

Reyna quietly cursed. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No! Could you imagine the media attention?”

Reyna apparently needed to sit down. She practically staggered her way to the couch. Connor could feel the bugs growing increasingly restless. He needed sugar. He turned and made his way back to the kitchen.

There was a pitcher of orange juice in the fridge. Connor pulled it out and brought it to the counter with the intention of filling a glass for himself. But at some point between the fridge and the counter, he must have changed his mind, because Connor found himself bringing the whole pitcher to his lips, glugging down the beverage in only seconds. When he finished, his insides squirmed more slowly and sluggishly. He wiped his mouth and turned to see Reyna standing in the doorway, watching him with uncertainty.

“Is it contagious?” Reyna asked.

Connor frowned in thought. “Not that I’m aware,” he said as he dug around in a cabinet. “None of my family has any problems.” Connor’s hand closed around a bottle of honey. He would keep it on hand for later.

Reyna walked in and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. “Tell me everything.”

Connor did.

He told Reyna how he had first started seeing the insects around the house, more specifically in his bedroom. How the beetles had started appearing on his skin and in his boxers. He told Reyna about the horror of the plug incident—how he had come to discover that the insects were coming from inside him. “Ever since, I’ve just been growing. And there’s just more and more of them. Sugar seems to get them to relax a little, but it’s getting out of hand.”

Reyna had been taking notes, but as Connor finished, Reyna just stared at him in combined unease and astonishment.

“I can…I can take your vitals,” Reyna said finally, snapping out of her daze. “A full check-up. Let’s figure this out.”

Connor nodded gratefully. The two went back to the living room, and Connor lay across the couch as Reyna did a thorough exam.

“Well, you’re perfectly healthy at least,” said Reyna when it was done. “Aside from well…” She trailed off. “Your body seems to be somehow interpreting this as a pregnancy. You’re even getting a little engorged.”

“What?” Connor looked down at his chest. He was not sure how he had failed to notice the growth of his chest, but he supposed he had been thoroughly distracted by other developments. Connor reached up and gently cupped his body, noticing that his formerly lean pecs were soft and rounded against his hands. They must have been A-cups. “Christ,” he muttered as he stared at himself in morbid fascination. “What the hell are we going to do?”

Reyna frowned in thought. “I do have oneidea. But you’ll have to trust me on this.”

“I’m willing to try anything.”

“Give me five minutes.” Reyna left in the direction of the kitchen. Connor could hear cupboards opening and closing. He sat in silence absently cradling his tight stomach. He looked as though he was seven months pregnant. Nothing about it looked vaguely natural.

Reyna returned moments later, clutching a large water bottle filled with a grayish brown liquid full of floating particles. She handed it to Connor who twisted his face.

“Drink up,” Reyna ordered.

“What is this?” said Connor, examining the unappealing fluid.

“Homemade insecticide. Nontoxic to humans.”

Connor almost wished he hadn’t asked.

“Hey, do you want my help or not?” said Reyna at seeing Connor’s lack of enthusiasm.

Hesitating just a moment longer, Connor opened the bottle, pinched his nostrils, and downed it.

It tasted like mud, or what Connor imagined mud tasted like. He gagged several times in his efforts to finish it. But at least it didn’t taste like something chemical and poisonous. He had to trust that Reyna knew what she was doing.

“So?” said Reyna once Connor had finished. “Feel anything?”

Connor smacked his lips a few times, his face fixed with a grimace. “Not really.”

“Let’s wait a while.”

Connor shrugged, his hopes sinking.

Reyna picked up the television remote. “Do you guys have Cineflix?”

“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” Connor headed to his room.

Once he was in his bedroom, door locked behind him, Connor partook in the one detail of his condition that he hadn’t had the nerve to tell Reyna about.

He climbed onto his bed, honey bottle in hand. Sprawled on his back, he planted his feet on the mattress, and heaved his pelvis up as comfortably as he could.

Fifteen minutes later, Connor went back to the living room, moving awkwardly around the effort of clenching. He gave Reyna a strained smile and eased down on the couch beside her. The two watched a tedious police procedural, though Connor found it difficult to focus on anything besides his growing hunger, prickling abdomen, and lurching insides.

“Oh!” Connor perked, grimacing. One of his hands flew to his navel.

Reyna turned to him in excitement. “What’s happening? Is it working?”

It had been an hour, so if it was, it was about time. But Connor wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. The beetles seemed to be making formations inside him, moving more forcefully, causing his insides to lurch and his belly to wobble as the oval fat shapes of them rolled against the surface of his packed, bloated flesh.

It didn’t feel like they were dying. It felt like…the opposite. “Agghhhh…” Connor moaned, arching, twisting his thighs, then spreading himself wide, because he suddenly felt extremely tight.

But none of the beetles exited. His hole was tingling against a pressure within that made his knees quiver.

His belly tightened. “Nghhhh…” Connor gripped it, gasping and reddening as he felt it heave in a powerful jerk that left him breathless. “Oh god,” he gasped out, as his belly tightened again, his shirt wrapping more snugly around him as it visibly pushed forward, making his navel ache and his dick rise as his face crumpled and he struggled to bear it all.

“Errggghhhh!” he grunted as tension filled him. Before he knew it, he was heaving himself up, gripping the wall, arching, stretching, straining for relief as his belly rolled outward in short bursts that left him pushing, grunting, bearing down, ass hot, and tight, and shuddering, but not releasing.

The contractions seemed to end. Gasping for breath, Connor hunched forward. One hand held the wall while the other trailed over his sweat-sleeked belly over and over again, attempting to sooth the taut skin. It felt tingly tight, freshly stretched. He swore he looked at term with child by then.

He could see Reyna hoovering in his periphery, caught between coming over to aid and running for her life. Reyna lingered in limbo, hands extended but inactive. “What the fuck, Connor?” she whispered.

“Ngghhh…mmmhhhhnn…” Connor shifted his hips, adjusting the weight heavy on them, too heavy, pushing down. “What…the fuck,” he echoed in weary resignation. He met his friend’s eyes.

There wasn’t a shred of hope in them.

-

Connor had perched himself on the couch where he sunk deep into the cushions. He had no clue how he was going to explain this to his brother, let alone his parents. His belly was huge. Even his chest seemed slightly more bloated. He laid both hands against his belly, pressing into it, almost willing it to go back in. “Rey…” he wheezed.

“I brought you some tea.” Reyna arrived from the kitchen. She was holding a saucer and tea cup, and it only shook slightly as she handed it over.

Connor forced down a sip, but choked at the blandness. He balanced the saucer on the top curve of his belly and looked up at Reyna who had stepped back to appraise him.

Reyna was wearing a troubled look. She chewed her bottom lip. “We really should get you to a hospital,” she pleaded.

“No,” said Connor irritably as he fidgeted. Belched. “It’ll be all over the news. My college campus will find out.” And this is your fault, he restrained himself from adding.

“Connor, this is beyond that.”

“Not it isn’t. Reyna, right now college is the only thing I care about,” he said frankly. He cupped the side of his gut, the insects strangely inactive except for a deep, nearly imperceptible throbbing that seemed a threat of more growth. “I’m just a little—backed up. At worst, people will think this is a huge beer gut. It’s just…it’s just…”

“These things are stretching you tight.” Reyna finally approached and laid a tentative hand on the face of Connor’s stomach.

“Parasites,” said Connor, simultaneously trying to cope and rationalize. He thought of the impoverished children with swollen stomachs living in the slums of countries his parents frequently donated to. He thought of the round-bellied dogs at the shelter he sometimes visited on the way to school. Parasites, that was all. He was hardly the first creature to be full of them. “Maybe we should try a parasite medication.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Reyna.”

Reyna swallowed. “You’re right. Seems logical.”

“Can you get it?”

“I…I think. My mom sometimes leaves a prescription pad in her home office. I can write something up.”

“Thanks,” said Connor in relief.

“But Connor, what if it backfires like the insecticide?”

Connor refused to consider that.

5.

Connor still couldn’t believe how big he was. The way his huge stomach stretched out his clothes and bulged away from his body. He continuously ran his hands down the orb, completely panicked about his prospects of explaining it away to his family. Something was seriously wrong with him. He looked pregnant.

So when Reyna brought over the parasite medication the following day, Connor gulped down a handful of pills without hesitation.

“Connor, that's too much!” Reyna scolded, snatching the bottle away, but it was almost empty.

“This is an extreme situation,” Connor coughed back, before taking another gulp of water from the bottle clutched in his hand. “Hopefully this works better than the—” Connor stopped short.

“What is it Connor? Do you feel something?” Reyna asked.

“I feel…nrrghhhh…” Connor groaned as his belly gurgled. He hugged it tightly, feeling the insects writhe under his skin. They felt restless inside him, moreso than ever before. The movement was frenzied, the pressure spiking and mitigating erratically at different points on his gut. He felt an unsettling heaviness drop low on his pelvis and he found himself clenching his ass, struggling to contain it.

“What’s going on? Is the drug working?” said Reyna desperately.

“Errgghhh…” Connor was red and flushed, his body sweating. But he couldn’t contain it any longer. They began to push out in droves.

Rather than just plopping to the floor, they pushed and scuttled in streams down his legs, skittering across the room, causing Reyna to scream. In her effort to back away, Reyna stumbled and fell on her backside. She wailed and began to frantically bat at her skin. Connor grunted and gripped his knees, moaning lowly, squatting slightly. “It—didn’t—work!” Connor gasped out, his face reddening, not only from the discomfort, but from a rising fury. The drug had only made things worse, like before. He glared at Reyna who was still scrambling on the floor. “Get out.”

Reyna stilled, looking dolefully up at Connor. She distractedly scratched at one of her small breasts. “Connor…”

“Out!” Connor shouted, and Reyna didn’t try to placate. She got up and hurried out of the house, not looking back as the door slammed behind her.

Connor groaned and shifted his hips, rubbing his hands along the flanks of his swollen abdomen. He winced every time his hand connected with some of the fat crawling insects, knocking them off him. He swore he looked overdue with child by then. As much as he massaged the mass, the insects would not calm down. They were agitated now, as though they were somehow aware of his intentions in taking the medication.

Connor dropped to his knees grabbing his hair—he could feel the bugs crawling around in it! They were all over him, scrambling across his whole body as much as he tried to brush them off. They were crawling unpleasantly in and out of his hole. He tried to calm down, thinking perhaps they could sense his anxious state, but it didn’t work. Nothing seemed to be working. His belly throbbed visibly from the continuous rotation of the insects. He felt himself hyperventilating, and the world blurring as he pulled and dragged at the straining tank top he was wearing. Somehow Connor managed to haul himself to his room, collapsing to his bed just before everything went dark.

-

When Connor awoke, he was not sure how much time had passed, though the light was dim outside of his bedroom window. His belly was still throbbing, tightening and loosening in uncomfortable pulses. His position on his back caused an unpleasant tension on his spine. He shifted then marveled at himself. It looked as though he had only gotten larger, and the bugs were still crawling all over him. His belly looked ludicrous in its swollen state, laying on the mattress before him. The situation was so bizarre, he could almost laugh. He could almost cry. Connor shuddered, and swatted an insect that had begun to crawl across his cheek. “Fuck,” he muttered, beginning to writhe in his sheets.

His phone chimed on the nightstand beside him, the screen lighting up. Connor grabbed it up while distractedly brushing bugs out of his hair. It was a text from Rey.

I’m so sorry, it said.

Connor sighed and lowered the phone. What the hell was he going to do?

A knocking sound made Connor stiffen, instinctively dragging his blankets up to his chin. He stared at the bedroom door, his heart racing.

“Connor?” Charlie called. The door opened just slightly, Charlie poking his head in. Thankfully the room was dark, and Charlie could not see the bugs crawling on Connor and the bed, nor did he seem to register the huge mound of Connor’s belly under the sheets. “Hey kid, I’m heading back to work. Didn’t see you last night.”

Connor thought fast. “Yeah, I was tired. Had Rey over. We studied, pigged out, then I must have fallen asleep.”

“You aren’t kidding about pigging out. You kids emptied the fridge.” Connor couldn’t quite make out his brother’s face, but Charlie’s voice was quizzical.

Connor forced a laugh, but it was brittle. “Yeah,” he managed, hoping he came off flippant.

“Well there’s leftover Chinese from last night. See you later?”

“Yeah. Later,” Connor managed.

Connor sighed deeply as his brother left and closed the door. Connor could hear him padding around the living room and waited a few moments until he heard the front door open and close.

Connor heaved himself out of bed, a little astonished by the newfound heaviness of his body. He leaned back, pushing his belly out, getting used to his new center of gravity. The tank top he had on had slid up above his navel and seemed to have no hope of being dragged back down. He didn’t know what he was going to do about his predicament, but he at least had one certainty.

He was hungry.

Connor went to the kitchen where he indeed found a small clutter of Chinese food cartons in the fridge. There was lo mein, fried rice, steamed dumplings, a few gravy-slathered omelets, and a large pork dish in a red glaze sauce.

Connor gobbled it all down, not even bothering to plate it. He enjoyed the sticky sweetness of the pork, but once he was finished, he was not satisfied. His hunger only seemed to be escalating.

“Eugh,” said Connor, rubbing the face of his belly. The insects at least seemed to be calming down, if just slightly, though they continued to crawl freely over his skin.

He dragged himself to the bathroom, thinking he might be able to wash off the bugs along with the dirty feeling he had everywhere that they touched him. He stripped, climbed into the shower, and turned on the tap, but before the first droplet of water could make contact with his skin, the bugs rushed so rapidly to his hole, he almost collapsed. In an instant, the entire horde had crammed its way inside him, as he gripped the shower wall with one hand and his belly with the other, feeling the tension surge, watching his belly inflate before his very eyes.

He was being stuffed. A strange noise escaped his throat, face reddening as he tried to breathe through it, breasts feeling weirdly warm and tingling, nipples prickling and aching as he struggled against his shuddering belly.

“Fuuuhhh…” he breathed, once every insect had migrated deep into his stomach. He felt a little dizzy and nauseous, and found himself gingerly sitting down on the tub’s edge. He regretted this decision as he suffered spikes of tension bordering on pain as his belly pushed forward, crammed between his chest and lap.

“Mmmgghhhh…goddd…” he moaned, rubbing his belly gently, trying to adapt. He looked as though he was due with twins by then. As much as he hated the feel of the insects crawling on his body, he suddenly found that preferable to all of them occupying his stomach at one time.

Connor allowed the water to run over him. He dipped his head in, breathing deeply.

He couldn’t believe he was still hungry. It was only getting worse, the intensity scaring him. But then, he had a lot of…creatures…to support.

Connor heaved himself up, going rigid for a moment, his face twisted as he again tried to adjust to the position. He carefully got out of the shower and tried to wrap a towel around himself, but it refused to accommodate his swollen midsection. Instead, he made his way back to his bedroom, half-naked. Flushed and panting, he hastily went through the process of getting dressed, though it wasn’t easy. The tightness of his briefs made him realize that he must have gained weight in his ass. The shorts he pulled on pushed low beneath the swell of his mound, and there wasn’t a single shirt in his room that could pull down past his navel anymore. Connor resorted to going into his brother’s room and digging his biggest sweatshirt out of his dresser. It managed to cover him, but was extremely tight, and made him feel like he was being strangled. Connor was puffing out long breaths of air by then, completely drained from the process of getting dressed.

Much as he wanted to collapse to his bed and go back to sleep, the hunger was painful and disorientating. He jammed his feet into sneakers, grabbed his wallet, and walked right out of the house, not even thinking about the ramifications. His next door neighbor paused in trimming his hedges to gawk.

Connor couldn’t blame him. He felt like a whale, and was waddling somewhat. “Hey, Mr. Mullery,” he called uneasily as the other man continued to ogle. Connor had been a slim, compact teenager only a few weeks earlier.

Connor grabbed his bike from the side of the house. It was awkward. His huge, bobbing belly pressed against the handle bars, and his ass quavered as he tentatively rolled forward. The wheels squeaked continuously, and he could hardly remain balanced. The effort made him feel like he would burst!

He rode at a painfully slow pace, huffing and bobbing while trying desperately not to fall. People rolled down their car windows to stare at him in morbid fascination. Admittedly, the bike could hardly fit his body anymore. And yet he was determined. So Connor rolled on.

Twenty minutes later, Connor was at the grocery store. He gripped onto the shelves with his clammy hands while hoping not to topple. He felt as though his insides were vibrating, but just hoped it wasn’t visible through the straining sweatshirt practically glued to his form. He distractedly threw things into his cart as rapidly as he could. Jams and jellies, syrups and chocolate sauces, toffees, a few tubs of ice cream, cookie dough, honey, caramel, whipped cream, chocolates, candies, and more. Connor made his way to the register, leaning heavily on the cart. He couldn’t help freeing one of his hands to knead his fingers into his swollen stomach. Anything to assuage the discomfort. It churned.

“That is some is to belly,” said the cashier as she rung up Connor’s purchases. “Aren’t you a little young for all that drinking?”

“Um…” said Connor desperately.

“Never seen anything like it,” the cashier went on, smacking her lips against the gum she was chewing. A pause. “You sure you don’t have some medical issue?”

“Mgghhh…” Connor hummed, shifting, because fuck, they were coming. He felt them trying to squish and pour out of him, trying to make a scene right when he had almost finished up at the store.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“How much!?” Connor demanded, legs quavering.

The cashier gave a shrug. “$92.35.”

Connor shoved several bills at her. He knew it was too much, but he just rolled off with his bags loaded in the cart. Once outside, Connor looked helplessly at his bike, not sure how he had been planning to get home with groceries. Wasn’t planning to get this much, Connor reminded himself. He had intended to get a bag or two, not a whole cart loaded with sugary food, even using cash out of his college fund to pay for it all.

He panted and shifted, knowing that he was running out of time. The bugs were already starting to shove out, piling into the back of his pants.

There was a beep of a horn. Connor turned to see a taxi pulled up to the curb, letting someone out.

“Need a ride?” the driver called.

“God, yes!” Connor said in relief. And he waddled forward, his belly prodding into the shopping cart handle bar as he pushed it along.

6.

The drive back to his house was only five minutes but Connor wasn’t sure he would last. Every turn of the cab left his body reeling and every bump in the road had him bouncing forcefully, cursing under his breath and gripping the seat in front of him even as his belly shoved and pressed into it, causing the driver to jerk at times and grimace through the rearview mirror.

They were coming. They were coming! He couldn’t contain it! Connor tore a bottle of chocolate syrup out of one of his grocery bags and glugged down mouthfuls, but it wasn’t helping. In his growing panic, he shoved the bottle into the back of his pants. He didn’t think, he just shifted his hips up, pushing the spout into his ass hole, tipping the bottle and giving a squeeze.

It helped. Connor gasped for breath as the furious writhing eased down to a stirring. He continued to pump the chocolate syrup into his hole. Belatedly, he noticed that the vehicle had stopped. They were in front of his house, and the cab driver had craned his neck to give him a look of horrified disgust. Connor couldn’t blame the man.

Connor pulled the syrup out of his pants, replaced the cap, and shoved it back into his grocery bag. He shifted forward, and as usual, not a drop leaked out of him. Mumbling a thanks, he shoved several bills in the direction of the driver, but the man seemed reluctant to touch them. His face burning, Connor heaved himself and his grocery bags out of the cab. He gasped and grunted as he waddled his way to his front door.

He was huge. His belly was massive. He looked as though he was pregnant with triplets by then. Navigating around his brother proved tricky. Whenever Charlie was around, Connor pretended to be asleep or in the shower. He could tell that Charlie knew something was up, but thankfully, Charlie was too busy to investigate, what with all the extra shifts he was taking at work.

On Monday morning, school was unavoidable. Connor was still determined to graduate and start college in the fall. Riding his bike was out of the question, so he tried to walk. This proved an exhausting process of waddling, wobbling, holding his back, clutching his gut, gasping for breath, huffing and puffing, and being generally gawked at as he proceeded along the sidewalk.

He looked like he could have been overdue with child, not that he was a woman. His ass had gotten noticeably plumper, and his breasts were growing steadily fuller. They had likely swelled all the way up to D-cups by then. There was not one bra he owned that could accommodate them, yet they were so round and plump, they hardly necessitated one. Except to control the continual jiggling, he supposed. And the way his nipples—which had managed to double in size at some point—protruded hard against his clothes while rubbing rousingly into the cotton.

Connor just tried to focus on other things besides how warm his loins were getting.

Connor had managed to order some specialty clothing over the weekend, and was presently wearing a huge jersey that fell loosely over his form. His belly button was bulging in a way that just weird. Even then, he could feel the insects lurching inside him, migrating downwards, as though planning their next escape.

He was sweat-drenched by the time he arrived to the school building, his face red and his clothes sticking to him. He knew he couldn’t afford an accident during classes, so he walked the hallways with a bottle of syrup clutched in his hand, and two spare bottles tucked away in his backpack (strawberry and maple).

His feelings of uneasiness were consistent with the continuous, tingling crawling sensation that filled his abdomen. Sometimes he would just cup the huge mound of his belly, marveling at it, imagining the sheer number of insects that filled him, and how absurdly packed they must have been inside him. He still had no clue how to get all of them out. But as things were, he felt a lot less panicked when they were all inside rather than out, running amuck.

Unsurprisingly, teachers and students stared at him, school officials pausing mid-step to gawk. Some of Connor’s peers took to pointing and chuckling, as though this was all some joke. They thought he was wearing one of those fake pregnancy bellies, and was partaking in some social experiment. But then, what else would they think.

Connor just weakly smiled and went along with it, struggling his way through the day. Whenever the bugs got especially active, he hurried into a bathroom and fed them syrup through his mouth or ass, or both. It was a lot. Midway though the day, he had already completed his second bottle. He found himself releasing small belches and gagging at times. Maybe all the sugary substances just weren’t agreeing with him.

Later in the school day, Connor found himself discussing an assignment with a professor after class. The other students were filtering out, and Connor stood to the side as Mr. Paulson rambled on. Connor had just asked one minor question about the format of an essay and now Mr. Paulson was going on about intricate details that Connor was already aware of. Connor’s back was arched. He was so tired, sweaty, and flustered, and wished he could sit down. His nipples were aching, breasts tingling.

His belly was trembling slightly. He cupped it with his palm, kneading it with the heel of his hand. Panting quietly, he nodded to Mr. Paulson’s words. Connor’s eyes widened as his belly heaved, and he quickly covered his mouth with a folder to hide the sight of his gagging.

Mr. Paulson paused. “Are you okay, Connor?”

Connor hurriedly nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was. He pressed his lips tight, his eyes still wide in shock. Something had come up. Something was in his mouth.

He could feel the bug wriggling on his tongue, and it only managed to make him ten times more nauseous. It felt big, like clutching a lime in his mouth. His pupils darted around in panic. He didn’t know what to do. He did the only thing he could think to.

He gulped.

His belly gurgled. He tried not to groan. He forced the insect back down his throat, and into his stomach. The sensation was horrible. Oh god. He waited for Mr. Paulson to finish talking, while praying another insect didn’t come up.

Mr. Paulson finally finished with his imperial lecture, “Understood?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Connor breathed out. With that, he turned out of the classroom and waddled straight for the nearest bathroom, not knowing if he wanted to laugh or cry.

He washed his hands, not really knowing what else to do with himself. He splashed his face with cool water then belatedly thought to rinse his mouth out, thoroughly.

He was just too full. He could feel the bugs pressing hard on his rectum. He could feel his hole tightening as they tried to force their way out. His belly was huge, getting wider than he was. It was big and tight. Connor slid his shirt up the massive, quavering ball. He just didn’t know what to do. He watched blankly as his belly button twitched, actually twitched with movement. “Eugh…”

As Connor was leaving the bathroom, he couldn’t help noticing Reyna stumbling into the womens' restroom nextdoor. “Rey!” he called, but she didn’t hear him. Before he could stop himself, he pushed his way inside after her. “Reyna.”

Reyna jumped a little, and looked up at Connor with wide eyes. “Oh. Hi Connor.”

Reyna seemed clammy and shaken. There also seemed to be something different about her that Connor couldn’t immediately pinpoint. “Are you okay?” Connor asked.

“No,” said Reyna with a nervous smile, lightly shaking her head. “Connor, I think your condition is—contagious.”

“I—oh,” said Connor, registering it. His eyes immediately darted down to Reyna’s stomach, but it seemed the same as always. “You’re not…?”

“Fuck, I—” Reyna paused and drew several deep breaths. “My—my boobs,” she forced out, waving vaguely at her chest. “Ever since the—with the things—at your house—well, they’ve felt really weird, Connor. Like, really weird.”

Connor’s gaze shifted slowly to Reyna’s chest. It was noticeably bloated, Reyna’s T-shirt stretching out against her where it had previously been loose. Reyna’s clothes were always loose.

Connor could also see Reyna’s bra lines, and the way her breast flesh was pushing against it, noticeably bulging against the cups.

Reyna was breathing heavily now, chest heaving, making the changes all the more evident. Reyna winced and hissed out, lifting her hands as though to cup her chest, but stopping just short of making contact.

“What is it?” said Connor in morbid fascination.

“My nipples, they’re—god—fuck, I can’t talk about this.” Reyna stormed off.

“Rey!” Connor waddled to the bathroom door, staring at Rey’s retreating back. He wanted to stop his friend. Talk through it with her. Yet Connor had no idea what he would say, or what could make this situation even slightly less horrible than it was. So he pressed his lips and said nothing.

-

“Fuck,” Connor whispered under his breath when he got home that evening. School had been horrible, but he just needed to get through with the rest of the semester. He could handle another few weeks of this. He hoped.

He locked himself in his room and eased himself down on his desk chair which felt uncomfortably tight and creaked precariously beneath him. His belly was a huge mound perched in his lap, sort of nestled there, in such a maternal way it could have almost been sweet were he not full to bursting with bugs.

His chest felt tingly and tender, but he wondered if he was imagining it. He leaned back and indulgently rubbed the flesh with the palms of his hands, allowing himself to grunt and quiver as he finally explored the increased sensitivity of his nipples.

They stung and ached, yet felt utterly erotic. His breathing thinned as he massaged the flesh and glided his fingers gently over his nipples. He still couldn’t believe how big they were getting. Another glide left his dick hardening. Some bugs began to push into his briefs, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They writhed. He groaned, and slid his hand under his shirt to roll a nipple between his fingers.

There was moisture. Stickiness. Connor drew his shirt higher then looked down, and saw something orange on his nipples. Dripping from them, now. In a daze, he allowed the substance to glide over his fingertips. It was rather thick, and sticky, almost like a diluted syrup. He brought it to his nose and smelled it.

Fruity.

Without really thinking, Connor stuck his fingers into his mouth, his eyes widening at the sweet, fruity taste. It was almost like…nectar. And it was coming out of him.

Bizarre.

Connor returned his gaze to his chest, watching the steady dripping of substance from his nipples. He wondered if this was what had happened to Reyna. Had she started to lactate this stuff?

Connor’s breasts were plump and round—full-looking. They were full of this stuff. Somehow they looked…healthy, if that made sense. Full and bountiful, and producing.

As horrifyingly bizarre as it was, it seemed minor in comparison to Connor’s infestation with bugs. Connor stared off for a while, his mind rather hazy. He didn’t know how the two things were connected, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

-

Connor was rapidly getting bigger.

He appeared overdue with triplets by his estimation, but he was sure he was downplaying things. He probably looked bigger.

He was taking one of the several breaks he now regularly took from class throughout the day, this time taking refuge in one of the unisex bathrooms near the gym. He was leaning back on the wall, holding his belly with one hand, while his free hand clutched an extra-large bottle of chocolate syrup. His head was thrust back as he sucked syrup down as rapidly as he could without choking.

As he heard the door open, Connor froze, reddening. Discretion seemed to have become secondary to his desperation to feed.

To his relief, it was only Reyna again. “Hey,” said Connor awkwardly.

The sounds of giggles wafted in before the door swung closed. Reyna was flushed and clearly anxious. “People think I’m stuffing my bra,” Reyna mumbled, and Connor could see that Reyna’s boobs had experienced a leap in size in only the past day. Reyna didn’t even seem to be wearing a bra. She had two plump D-cups on her chest that dwarfed most of the other female students. “God I think—think there’s something inside of them,” Reyna breathed, her chest heaving, but now Connor could see that it wasn’t in a natural way. They seemed to be heaving independently of the rest of her.

“Rey,” said Connor helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah…whatever,” said Reyna, locking herself into a stall. Connor heard her release a miserable whimper.

Connor could only bite his lip and lean back on the wall as he stared down at his own changing body.

7.

Connor continued to steadily grow, and more massive than he thought was even possible. His hips had thickened and widened, his backside had gotten plump and round behind him, his breasts had continued to bloat and balloon, now heavy E-cups bobbing on his chest, and most substantially, his belly had gotten even more massive. It resembled a beach ball and he could barely balance it anymore. It was an arduous strain to waddle around supporting the heavy mass, where it protruded out feet ahead of him, preceding him wherever he went. It was so heavy on his hips, his hands often reached down to support the underside of the mass. Though his efforts proved largely futile. The insects were continuing to breed and he was continuing to grow.

With scheduled feedings and frequent bathroom breaks, Connor had gotten better at containing them all, though there were slip-ups. While conferring with his biology teacher, Connor had whimpered slightly when he felt a bug plop free from his bulging hole. It had squirmed about in his briefs, making him quaver, before finding its way to freedom, and plopping to the floor under his shorts.

“Are you okay, Connor?” Connor’s teacher asked, peering at Connor in a mixture of perplexion and distaste.

Connor was panting and sweating, but then, he always was these days. He felt the bug begin to scuttle back up his ankle but he managed to kick it under a nearby lab table.

“Yes, of course,” Connor breathed.

The “leaks” as Connor had come to think of them, occurred a few other times at school. One morning, when Connor had eased himself down in a chair, his belly plopping against his lap, several bugs had popped up his throat, making him choke. He hunched down and coughed, watching three of them splatter against the floor to quickly scuttle behind some nearby shelves.

“You okay?” Connor’s classmate, Sean, nudged Connor’s shoulder while giving Connor’s huge mound an amused grin.

“Fine,” Connor said, managing to straighten. He lightly cupped his flanks, squirming, spreading his thighs, trying to alleviate as much pressure from his over-packed orb as he could. It decidedly was not fun to regurgitate the insects.

Sean chuckled, lightly shaking his head. “You and your crazy social experiments,” he whispered, before turning his attention back to the lecture.

All of the plus-sized clothes Connor had purchased were getting steadily tighter, stretching and straining to accommodate his swelling body. The shirt he was wearing at present hugged his form, showing off every curve and crevice of his body. His breasts were starting to pull the stitching apart, desperate for more room to expand. And every so often, a bug would push hard against the surface of his belly, visibly rolling across it, a lime-shaped bulge, and someone would do a double-take after seeing it. Connor would do his best to cover it up or turn away.

Things were getting out of control. Connor just tried to persevere.

Over the next few days, his nipples had gotten to be particularly dark and distended. The nubs were fat and swollen, and Connor had ignored it as long as he could, but he was at the point that pulling on shirts left him a shuddering mess, bugs popping out of his quavering ass.

Connor eased himself down on his bed that morning, his EEE-cups breasts perched on the top curve of his belly, both almost unnaturally round. Soft but clearly bloated. “Nghhhhh…”

Connor unbuttoned the top of his shirt, allowing his breasts to push free. He glided his fingers gently along the heated flesh, before finally encountering his nipples. “Ohhh,” he groaned, feeling himself shiver.

His left nipple tightened, sort of contracting. His breath shuddered out of his throat as the nub warmed, to finally begin to drip.

The droplets were persistent, Connor panting and flushed. The sticky orange substance was getting all over his shirt, but Connor could hardly bring himself to care at that moment. He grunted when his right nipple released a sudden, forceful squirt, before settling into a persistent dripping as well.

Connor moaned quietly, his back arching, pushing his fat tits forward. His breasts were full, he could tell that much. He waited for the leaking to mitigate, though it didn’t seem like it was stopping. He slumped back, putting his hands on his head, regarding himself. What was he going to do? A nursing bra? “Damn,” he hissed. He didn’t think his breasts could tolerate a bra in their current ultra-sensitized state. On top of that, he didn’t think he could afford anymore new articles of clothing, especially when they were rendered useless as he outgrew them in a matter of days.

With some strain, Connor hauled himself up and lumbered about the room until he found a tank top that was far too small for his swollen body, but he just managed to tug it over his tits.

He added some folded pieces of fabric and paper towel and watched it absorb the moisture. He didn’t think it would last him long, but at least it was a start.

It took forty minutes of Connor lying around on his bed for the orange substance to soak up the padding and start to leak into his top again. The output seemed endless. Releasing a frustrated curse, Connor lifted his phone, got online, and actually found himself ordering a breast pump. He felt queasy just at the thought.

He tried to relax again, and ignore the chronic pressure fully occupying his overheated breasts. Still as he was, he was forced to truly experience the squirming movements that filled his belly, but at least things were somewhat better when he was at home, relaxing like this.

For one thing, his gut wasn’t as distressingly tight. Now that he was in his bedroom, bugs were crawling out of him in droves, thighs spread and twitching as one after the next pushed free of his hole to scuttle about the floors, walls, and ceilings.

Connor just breathed through it, his face twitching as bugs crawled either out or in. He knew he was helpless to do anything about it. He was left with an odd visual of his body’s infestation, still rather astonished that all of these things lived inside of his belly. His body had become a nest of sorts. The bugs came and went, but he was their home.

There was a shuffling of movement outside in the hallway, a pair of feet stopping in front of the bedroom door. There was a knock, and suddenly the bugs were swarming, all surging towards Connor, rapidly crawling back into his body. He writhed and grunted, shoving his fist into his mouth to contain the noises. In only seconds, all of the bugs had abruptly reoccupied his gut, and Connor felt tighter than ever before, belly flushed and pulsing, feeling ready to burst.

Through his grunts and gasping, he somehow managed to grab some of the heavy blankets he kept on his bedside and throw them over him before his mother opened the door. Of course, the blankets were barely adequate in hiding how massive Connor had become, but his family members were more likely to believe that thick bedding composed the shape of the mound rather than the less likely concept that Connor had inexplicably sprouted a massive pregnancy.

Connor held his navel under the blanket, trying to smile through his breathlessness and not look completely distressed.

“Going to bed early, again?” his mother asked, raising her brows.

“Yeah,” Connor managed, before clamping his mouth shut to contain a blech. When he could, he added, “Mmm…I ate a quick dinner after studying at Rey’s. Early exam tomorrow morning.” All lies. Connor hadn’t seen Reyna in days, and he had not eaten dinner so much as drank it. He had a huge stockpile of syrups, jams, and other sugary substances packed in his closet.

“Rest well, honey,” said his mother.

Connor attempted a beam of gratitude but it was more of a grimace.

When his mother turned off the light and closed the door, Connor slumped back. The bugs immediately started the process of filtering back out of him, Connor’s ass hot and tingling, belly heaving forcefully from the activity. He screwed up his face and tried to relax, his hole tightening and releasing, again and again, like he was steadily defecating hundreds of lime-sized things.

-

There was a school-wide issue of…weight gain.

People were actually rounding out, developing bellies that seemed too firm to be fat. And everyone lately was looking queasy or just spooked. No one spoke of the situation aloud, and Connor just hoped he was imagining things. He hoped it wasn’t what he suspected, yet tried not to look at it too closely.

Rey was growing rapidly as well. Every time Connor saw her, Rey’s breasts looked larger. One day at school, Connor found himself staring at Reyna in the hallway. Rey’s breasts had become huge wobbling mounds that had to be close to the size of volleyballs by then—just massive on the small-framed girl. Yet they were so round and full, sort of perfect even in their unnatural largeness. At present, they were stuffed into a tight tank top that had been transformed into a belly shirt by the huge mounds. Reyna didn’t appear to be wearing a bra, and her nipples were swollen and erect, protruding hard against the straining material. Her cleavage was bulging heavily against the low neckline. Rey seemed completely overwhelmed, one of her hands frequently shooting up to cradle the side of a huge breast, but it was just so massive. It jiggled with her every motion, round breast flesh even bulging out at the bottom of the shirt.

The students who didn’t laugh at Rey pointed and whispered, or just stared, sort of mystified and perplexed. Seeming completely fed up with it all, Rey dropped her books right there in the hallway and hurried into the nearest bathroom.

Connor waddled after her, even though he knew he himself was drawing gossip and derision. Panting heavily, he struggled into the lavatory, clutching either side of his throbbing belly. There, he found Rey standing in front of the sink, leaning on the ceramic with her hands, back arched and face sweating as she pushed her breasts forward, a strangled grunt coming up her throat.

At first Connor had no clue what was going on, but as he surveyed his friend, he noticed how unusually large Rey’s nipples had come to look all the sudden, distended and…expanding, pushing outward, wider, as though to tunnel through Rey’s flimsy shirt. Releasing a frustrated huff, Rey pulled up the shirt, revealing her big round boobs in all their perfection. And Connor hadn’t been imagining it, Rey’s nipples were swelling larger, all while Reyna strained and grunted, her back arching even more. What was happening?

Connor almost wished he hadn’t gotten the answer. A pore in the center of Rey’s right nipple began to widen and open up, all while Reyna whimpered and groaned, shoulders twisting. Wider it opened, and something pushed and crowned, something a faded purple. Connor stared aghast as something actually began to emerge from Reyna’s nipple, pushing forward, appearing fatter while squishing out like toothpaste steadily protruding through a tube. Finally its entirety plopped to the ground, and Connor found himself gawking down at a fat slug squirming on the floor. It was followed by a splatter of milk. Reyna released a miserable little whine.

“Oh god, oh god,” Reyna said in panic, her hand shooting up to desperately massage her left breast. The nipple was bulging alarmingly, and twitching now. Connor could see this pore opening up as well. Opening up for a slug. Were Reyna’s breasts full of those things?

It was just too much. Connor began to back away.

“Con,” Reyna moaned, seeming to notice Connor for the first time. She looked helpless. Desperate. She had produced the left side slug, and was already birthing another pair from both her nipples simultaneously. Her nipples twitched and wiggled, causing both mounds to tremor. “Connor,” Reyna groaned.

But Connor was already exiting the bathroom and wobbling off, desperate to get away before he could change his mind.

8.

Graduation started off copacetic.

Connor somehow avoided his parents until the ceremony, and when he lumbered out onto stage to do his valedictorian speech, he was a flustered, waddling mess.

He could see his family in the crowd, and the utterly shocked expressions on their faces. Connor didn't know how he was going to explain this after the ceremony. He was mostly just focused on keeping the insects contained inside his churning gut, at least until he got through his speech.

His belly was pulsating; visibly throbbing. His graduation robes were tented out and stretched out over the formidable mass which was approaching the size of a bolder.

The mound pressed against the dais, separating him from it by at least a couple of feet. He awkwardly reached out to grasp the microphone with his clammy hands, pulling it to his lips.

"Good morning everyone," Connor managed, voice quavering. He did his best to ignore the shocked stares, not only from his own family members, but the families of all his classmates gathered to watch, in addition to other students who were just confused as to why he would carry on with his bizarre "social experiment" all the way to graduation.

"We made it," Connor breathed with a strained smile and a rough chuckle. He turned his gaze to the front rows of the crowd, where his fellow graduating seniors would be sitting neatly, all hopeful and keen.

But they weren't. Many looked flustered, but not from nerves. Some were fidgeting in their seats, others grasping at their stomachs or chests. Rey's face was scrunched up and bright red as she let out forceful breaths. Her boobs looked absolutely massive, on the brink if tearing right through her graduation robes. Another student, Pamela, head of the debate club, seemed to have developed an advanced pregnancy in only a matter of days, a large belly perched in her lap. Yet another student squirmed and released an audible groan, before two damp spots appeared at the chest of his robes. Connor saw something moving on the grass beneath the seats, and as he squinted, he could just make out something purple. An...insect?

"So great job. Congrats," Connor wrapped up his speech abruptly. He could now feel the growing panic amongst the assembly. All focus was pinned to him, and not just for his speech. People wanted answers.

God, it was hot. He was sweating even worse than usual.

Not even waiting for the Dean to bring over his diploma, Connor turned and waddled off the stage, but he didn't return to his place amongst the other seniors.

He walked into the school and found a cool, empty classroom to take retreat within.

The student desks looked so small and feeble, and there was no way he could squeeze his mass between the table and attached chair. Instead, Connor gingerly pulled back the teacher's chair, and eased himself down, groaning from the strain of balancing his bobbing mound. The metal and screws creaked, and he just hoped he didn't end up on the ground.

Oh god, Connor thought, once he had a moment to truly register what was going on. The bugs, they were—they were spreading somehow. They were infecting other people. It had all happened so fast.

Connor mopped some sweat off his face with his hand. He suddenly felt suffocated in his robes, and began to desperately unbutton them, pulling them apart, first letting his swollen, sweaty cleavage bulge free where his breasts were practically popping out of his shirt. His belly was next, the mound absolutely huge where it was perched against his thighs, practically taking over his torso. Connor groaned and arched as it gave a tremor, and was left gasping for breath once the activity mitigated. He looked utterly ludicrous sprawled there, huge belly protruding from his robes. He feared that someone would wander in and see him but felt so depleted, he couldn't even entertain the concept of getting up to lock the door.

What am I going to do? Connor wondered blankly as he sat there breathing. He had achieved his goal of finishing high school. He had gotten into his top choice of college. Now all that was left were the things he had ridden off as distractions, things he had tried to ignore for so long in his venture towards academic success.

There was a scream from outside. Connor's eyes widened. He craned his neck and was able to look down on the ceremony from the classroom window nearest to his seat.

The scene was chaotic. People had leapt from their seats and started to flail. Some were patting at themselves, others screaming, or stumbling away.

"Oh god," Connor breathed. It took an extraordinary amount of effort, but he somehow managed to heave himself up from his seat. He waddled slowly towards the window, his breasts bobbing and belly lurching. The insects seemed content inside him for whatever reason. He had indulged in a massive amount of syrup that morning in preparation for his long day, so maybe it had actually helped.

"Oh fuck," Connor breathed as he gazed down at his peers.

Reyna seemed to have been pushed over the edge, because she had pulled open her robes, the tank top she was wearing serving as little more than a bandeau as her breasts visibly contracted, her shirt tenting prominently at the nipples where Connor could tell that Reyna was about to birth more of the slugs.

A guy was sprawled on his back on the lawn, thighs spread as he puffed out breaths like he was giving birth, his large belly practically bouncing above him.

Another young man was clutching the groin of his pants where a cantaloupe-sized swell had formed, zipper starting to tear open.

One student was hunched over belching slugs right there on the lawn. Other students were just swatting at themselves, the alien bugs visibly crawling over their bodies.

A girl was visibly expanding, her robes slowly tightening as she clutched her belly, as though trying to push it back in.

The scene was an absolute nightmare.

And it was all Connor's fault. "I have to get out of here," he breathed in anguish.

With that, he waddled himself around and made his way towards the door.

-

Connor had his high school diploma mailed directly to his college.

Rather than facing his family or having to explain the humiliation of what was happening to him, Connor enrolled in an early summer program and left for university directly after graduation.

There were news stories coming out about his small town. Talk of mass hysteria, alien parasites, bizarre conspiracy theories and city-wide quarantines. Connor tried not to pay attention to it much.

By the first day of his summer program, he was almost used to the stares. People even stopped or stumbled to gawk at Connor's hugeness. Connor just struggled to waddle through campus. He could feel sticky syrup seeping from his nipples and under his clothes. He just hoped the padding would last through his first class, because the output had been getting much greater lately, and the last thing he wanted were wet, goey, orange moist patches on the chest of his clothing on top of everything else he was dealing with.

Connor gave a quiet gasp as he felt a fat insect pop out of his ass and begin to slide down the leg of his shorts. But he didn't look back. He didn't want to think about it. He would focus on his grades and nothing else.

And in the evening, in his dorm room, when he was able to truly relax, he would spread his thighs and allow the bugs free to roam and do as they pleased, giving his massive belly a break from the relentless, growing pressure. Often the bugs would crawl up and taste the sweet syrup his swollen breasts seemed so keen to produce for them. His body would shudder from the varying sensations of pressure and passage, his cheeks warm, skin dewy and flushed.

Connor had come to terms with the anomaly he had become. He was their home. A sort of nest. They would multiply, grow, and stretch him wide, and he would do his best to accommodate them all. All that mattered were grades, after all.

The End