Mantis Mother, Part 12 (Insect Broodmother TF Preg)

By FoxFaceStories

Ivy Hartridge is a college genius who has aroused the jealousy of popular girl Delia due to them both fancying the same man. But when Delia pranks Ivy by having her injected with a spliced insect serum, neither could have imagined that Ivy would begin to transform into a very fertile mantis mother-to-be!

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Part 12: Time to Start Laying

Several days had passed since that time, and Ivy was miserable. Her body was no longer changing, and she prayed that her elongated tongue was the last bodily alteration she had to deal with, but now she was rendered completely immobile. Theo did his best to keep her spirits up, but her body was still developing its eggs, and she was feeling increasingly pressurised not just from her womb - which had already surged back to looking like she was full-term with quads again, but also her now-bed sized ovipositor and softball-sized tits. The latter were now constantly engorged. When Theo helped her attach the pumps, her flow never seemed to cease, and worse yet the pumps filled and shorted out the machine, causing them need to order a new one, which meant that in the meantime she had no relief but her own milking - impossible for her rear-tits - and Theo’s ministrations, which he couldn’t always be there to do. So now less than an hour after a milking, her chests reinflated up to F-cups or bigger, sitting sorely upon one another and dripping pale pink milk from her stinging nipples that now looked more like teats. 

It had taken a lot of work, but Theo had managed to devise some levers to help lift Ivy from the milk-soaked sheets of the bed, remove said bed, and gently ease her heavy form to the ground. She demanded he never tell her how much she weighed now, and could only groan as her feet hit the ground. Both legs were spread wide almost as if she were giving birth already, pressed to either side by her overinflated ovipositor that left her feet barely touching the ground. She was more eggsac than woman now, like an actual insect queen swollen with brood for her hive, and while she was more comfortable standing she now had no proper way to lie down. She slept leaning back slightly against her own egg sac, its soft walls providing some comfort.

Theo came and fed her constantly, as her hunger had only increased to the point of ravenousness. She felt ashamed of herself once more, even as Theo assured her of his faithfulness and did his best to please her with his hands, which she needed more than ever in her near-permanently aroused state.

One afternoon he arrived with several piled plates of cooked sausages, eggs, strips of bacon and piles of salad. She scoffed them down eagerly, almost delirious in her hunger, all six of her hands snatching food in concert off of the various plates and stuffing them down her mouth. Her lengthened tongue lashed out to snatch some hamburger patties, and Theo took a step back as the burgeoning insect queen fed her fat belly, her quivering tits full with produce for her nearing hive, and her swollen sac now so large it widened out behind her, easily visible beyond her own bloated stomach and enormous breasts, full with eggs that made indents through the soft, elastic ovipositor skin. Ivy ate as if she was barely human anymore, which was largely true by this point, and afterwards she would moan and groan, clutching her tight belly and writhing awkwardly on the spot from the sheer pressure of her developing eggs developing in her womb, and her own her breasts inflated like great volleyballs full of milk. She was in great discomfort, overheated, and she had no idea when the growth would end. Her belly shuddered, and she swore she could actually feel its surface distend, growing outwards by several inches, the skin becoming even tighter.

“Th-Theo . . . m-more,” she gasped, “I n-need - uuurgggghhh - I need m-more.”

Every so often an egg descended, and her moans could be heard echoing through the house as she had no choice but to buckle her knees slightly and push, push, push the next one through. But she could always feel her womb working to create two more to replace the one, her body in overdrive to produce as much young as it could bear.

In those hours without Theo when he had to run errands for her, Ivy could only think back to the thin, perfect, cute little body she used to have, and cry in misery over how much had changed. She wished Delia would die a painful death, and cursed her for what she had done to her body. She was now completely dependent on Theo, from her intake of food to her medical diagnosis to her care and entertainment. At least she didn’t have to worry about waste anymore - her body used literally everything she imbibed, leaving nothing spare to clean up. It was the smallest of mercies. But still she just continued to grow, until soon her belly was even larger than when she had experienced her explosive ‘birth’ after sex. 

She was nothing but a factory now. A large, bloated, insect factor with a small pimple of a humanoid appendage attached to an egg sac that was now easily the size of a van. Every constant, waking moment she was reminded that she was producing; her breasts aching and full of milk, slowly pouring rivulets down her chest; her stuff womb looking now overdue with sextuplets or more, her belly button outward and the size of a golf ball; her constant hunger for food that could fuel her reproductive capabilities; and of course the ovipositor. The six breasts ‘back there’ were no longer six at all; two more had developed since - one on either side - and with the familiar pointed ache that was budding there in recent days she had a strong suspicion that at least two more were developing. They were even larger than before, greater in mass than even the gigantic teardrop chests adorning her torso. She could barely turn her waist to see them anymore, but judging from when Theo placed his hands around them to help relieve her milk deposits there, they were likely in the H-cup or higher size.

She was making so much fucking milk, and in her overfull state she could only dream she had a dozen or more babies that could deal with this damn problem. It made her almost wish she could finally birth these eggs. And always she would recoil from that thought, fearful of what that might actually entail, but equally terrified that one day she might simply burst.

***

It was over a week later that Ivy woke atop her own egg sac, breasts aching for milky release, wings beating automatically to cool her flushed form, that she felt something new. There was an unfamiliar tightness in her egg sac, which had until just now always felt so elastic and capable of taking on more in its interior. Her stomach lurched also, a pain in her nethers that seemed to indicate something was occurring. 

She called out to Theo, then cried as the seeming contraction in her sac gave way to a burning sensation at its tip, where the lips were already beginning to leak their aroused fluid.

“Ohhhh . . . ooohhhhh Theooo heeelp! Aaahhhh, something’s h-happening!”

She bucked her hips, cupping all six of her bloated breasts in her hands to avoid them painfully wobbling. They did so anyway, spurting out milk in thick trails into her palms, as if overeager to feed her brewing young. She called out several more times, but there was no reaction, and soon her body was beginning to sweat as the pressure only increased, boiling to a point where something would inevitably happen.

Was this her end? Was she finally going to burst?

There was a contraction deep in her ovipositor that made her bite her lip and squeak. She felt something descend, but not in the usual way. Muscles she didn’t even know she had contracted to press an egg in her ovipositor along, until it reached the very end, touching up against those alien lips that almost drove her body wild with arousal. Through all the pain it hit her like a freight train; she was finally giving birth.

“OOohohhOHhhhh G-GoooOOood WWhhhyhhyyYYyy!” she called, clutching her mound desperately, unable to do anything but ride out the shifts and contractions of her large, sluggish form. 

So far her body had been on automatic, and she the helpless rider, but as the large egg she had carried so many weeks now sat wedged against her ovipositor’s lips, Ivy realised she would have to push. She grunted, clutching the connective tunnel of her ovipostor as it connected to her backside, and squeeze.

“Grrahgggh! G-get out of m-meeeeee!”

The egg strained, pressing against her sensitive lips, and she gasped at the strange arousal and pleasure the feeling gave her. Then, as she redoubled her efforts, her naked breasts sleek with sweat, there was a fluid-filled ‘plop’, and the egg squeezed its way out into the world, rolling away from her tip

Ivy breathed a sigh of relief, and panted, brushing her many fingers through her sweat-soaked pink hair, which had by this point grown down nearly to her backside.

“Oh God oh God oh God holy shit oh God I actually did it. I just pushed out an egg holy shit.”

She tried to swivel to see it, but her body was simply too large and heavy, and her enormous bloated stomach gave her too little wriggle room to twist and look back. But even even as the relief and joy settled in, the pressure began again. Ivy strained, crying out once more: “Theeeeeoo! I’m giving birth! Please help me!”

And once again, her muscles contracted, an egg descended, and she was overcome with the instinctual urge to push. She could feel the udders attached to her egg sac already swelling in preparation, milk flowing into them like rivers. She pushed at the next egg, and it too squeezed from the tip of the ovipositor with a slight painful pop, followed by an almost pleasurable relief. She sighed as it passed, but already the next was coming, and quicker. She yelled once more for Theo, but didn't even manage to finish saying his name before she clutched her gut and groaned, pushing as an egg from her overly-burdened hips, through her inner cervix, and into her egg sac. At the same time she was straining to push the next egg from the sac, and even as she accomplished that goal, the next eggs were descending to both her ovipositor's tip as well as in her womb. Ivy grunted, realising her alien body was now forcing her to push on two fronts; from her belly to her egg sac, and from her egg sac out into the world. Like painful pistons the pressures overlapped and alternated, and sweat poured from her pores as she strained to use unfamiliar muscles in concert.

More eggs poured from her tip, gently rolling across the floor to join the growing clutch of children yet to hatch. But for each victory a new egg descended into the sac to fill its place, and so it felt like so little progress was being made. She was so big, her womb packed so tightly, that she cried at the thought of how long this would take her. Hours? Days? It felt like there were hundreds of little bumps pressed against the skin of her rear abdomen, and more were joining faster than she could birth them.

"S-s-sooo m-many egggggggsssss!" she cried, before giving in to a harsh wail as four eggs plopped free from her birthing point in quick succession, almost as one. Still it wasn't enough. She grasped at her stinging nipples, milked herself in vain as she rocked her jiggling form on feeble legs to dislodge the next egg. She couldn't believe how many had been packed into her, and she was helpless to do anything but birth them.

It was then that she heard the door open. She breathed deep, unable almost to speak thanks to the twin pressures and the sheer effort of birthing her body demanded of her. 

"Ivy, how are you today?" echoed his voice.

She tried to call out, to tell him she was in labor, to say she needed his help, that she was terrified. Instead all she said was;

"NnnnyyYyYYyyaaaAaaAaaarrralHHHHhhh!!!"

Not one or two or even four but six eggs squeezed through the seeping lips of her ovipositor. Theo came running into the room, and from the shock on his face Ivy could tell he could already see the situation.

"Ivy," he breathed.

She looked to him with her pink-on-black eyes, even as a mighty and visible tremor ran across her gravid stomach and down to her insectoid abdomen. A wet sop informed him before she could that she was already beginning to lay.

"Th-Theo . . . Oooohhhh . . . H-hel . . . Ah ah ahhhhh . . . help m-meeeeuuuggghh!"

Her six breasts seem to swell for a moment, and she clutched each in her six arms, wailing and overcome by her body's various pressures, when suddenly her nipples tensed, elongated, and opened, and six long streams of pink milk jetted in long arcs across the room and soaked his shirt. Ivy seemed barely to notice, already struggling with her next eggs, and sticking out her long tongue in an expression that looked part way between pain and orgasmic pleasure.

Theo moved to her and grabbed her hand, placing the other on her distended belly.

"It's okay Ives, you've got this. You just push, I know you c-can."

"S-so m-many," she grunted. She gritted her teeth as another egg squeezed out from her ovipositor's lips. A shiver of pleasure ran through her, followed by discomfort as the next required more pushing.

"You can do it Ives. I still love you. You're so strong, babe. You can do this."

His words echoed in her mind, useless and far away. But her antennae latched onto his feelings, his love for her, his belief in her. She centred, rallied, and bore down to push, for as many eggs and hours as it would take.

“S-So b-big,” she managed to grunt. But still she pushed.

She birthed and she birthed and she birthed and she birthed. Egg after egg poured from an insectoid abdomen that not only failed to diminish in size but instead seemed only to grow, so full was she with the hive she was now destined to create. With each strenuous push her abdomen pulsated, and egg after egg jettisoned from her birthing tip. She cried out, her antennae twitching with each push, her dainty wings beating to keep her overheated body cool. Her ovipositor rested on the floor; fat, immense, and utterly full of her eggs. And more were joining it every few seconds, the large round objects squeezing painfully and yet pleasingly through the tunnel leading from her womb and through her hips into her large egg-laying organ.

“NGGGGNHHGGG . . . OOohhh this feels soooo w-weird, ahhh!”

It took a long, long time, by when Ivy was finished, it was past midnight, and she was beyond tired. Her belly was still rounded like a pregnant woman's, but one at full term with just one child instead of six or even seven. Her egg sac had diminished considerably; still large, but now devoid of eggs and slowly tightening away the loose skin in a process she suspected would take some days. Even her milk was largely spent; she'd not managed to consume enough food and drink during birth to replenish her supply, and while she was famished, part of her was glad she couldn't leak any further. The whole time Theo had been with her, whispering encouragement and gathering the eggs carefully. She couldn't believe it was possible to be so tired, or feel so ragged, or to indeed feel so light again, even though she knew she was still heavier than she had been as a human.

Theo helped move the eggs out of her way, and then guided Ivy out of the room carefully. It was the first time in days she had been able to walk. As they reached the doorframe, Ivy glanced back. She was utterly exhausted, but needed to know how many she had laid. 

Even with the agony and - yes - pleasure of birthing for over fourteen hours, she was unprepared for the sight before her. An enormous series of piles of white, sticky eggs sat in a large semicircle around the back of the room. There must've been over a hundred of them, each the size of a large coconut. It was almost impossible to imagine so many could have developed inside her, had she not personally carried the burden so long.

"My children," she whispered to herself, unsure of how to even feel about them as Theo led her to a separate bedroom: his. She didn't even think to ask where he'd be sleeping. As soon as he helped her lie down to rest she lost consciousness immediately.

To Be Continued . . .