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The Lab, Part 5
🕑 Added 2022-02-09 22:15:10 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Summary: Lab technician, Beth, has been engineered to periodically birth small eggs from her nipples. But Beth soon discovers that the eggs are progressively increasing in size as well as number. Contains: Female: Breast expansion, breastation, egg laying, and more.
-
She didn’t know the guy. His name was Brad, or Chip, or Greg, or something. It was one of those single-syllable, douchebag-names. But he was one of those guys who was always up for a good time.
He had pretty much gravitated to her the moment she entered that dingy bar. He was a breast-man, but most Chads were. Somehow he managed to order her a drink without looking up from her cleavage. Beth hadn’t even bothered with small-talk, she just dragged him back to her place.
And now she was riding him. Chad had requested it specifically. She suspected he just wanted to stare at her chest, watching her breasts bounce while she twisted her hips then sank down, again and again, and he gasped for breath. Maybe he was reflecting on how implausibly large her breasts were. Or searching for surgery scars. But he could hardly focus on that, his lips twitching, face sweating, as he grasped her hips and she arched her neck.
Then he unexpectedly flipped them over as Beth squealed in surprise and suddenly she was beneath him, being pushed hard into the mattress. Chad slowed things down with long, steady strokes. “Ohhhh…” she whimpered. She was so fucking close.
Her nipples felt heavy. Not heavy, but pressurized. She knew she should stop this, but she just needed to finish. She needed him to finish her.
She tried to speak, but only managed to produce another groan, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. God, Chad was good. Chad was so good. But Chads usually were. “P-please…” she stammered. Then they were rolling again, both coming to sit upright this time. She was perched in his lap, her legs wrapped about him. She whined and buried her head against his shoulder, her body burning hot. How did he manage to keep her right on the cusp? This was torture. His hands cupped her face and pulled her back so he could look at her. He was wearing a weary smile.
“You want it?” Chad asked.
Her lips moved but she didn’t think she spoke.
“Fuck, look at those big tits of yours. Seamless. Your surgeon is a fucking artist.”
Beth groaned.
“Why would a girl like you want tits like that? They’re fucking huge. You like the attention, huh? Well you’ve got it.”
The tension was getting worse. Her nipples were aching, breasts bobbing as he rocked her. Her face twisted as the pressure peaked to unbearable discomfort and the cusp of pain. She tried to contain it.
He leaned down and took one of her nipples between his lips, sucking hard, causing her eyes to go wide open. She whined, arching, thrusting her breasts out as they tightened and bloated, her nipples seeming to inflate. She screamed, and he sucked, and she couldn’t stop it. She was tight to bursting!
Then suddenly Chad was coughing, gagging as he choked and pulled away from her. Something popped out of his mouth and hit the mattress. It was about the size of a quail egg.
Chad stared, at the egg, then at her. Then at the gooey milk presently oozing from her nipples. Beth grunted and shuddered as another egg began to crown. At the sight of it, Chad scrambled backwards. He toppled over the edge of the mattress, falling on his ass with an, “oof!”
“I-I can explain!” Beth gasped out, reaching out to him, but he was hastily jerking on his pants. He looked positively horrified.
Brad opened his mouth and closed it, then opened it again. Seeming to give up on producing words, he grabbed his shirt and fled.
Beth cursed under her breath. She was frustrated and disgusted with herself, humiliated by what had just transpired, but mostly infuriated with Chad for his neglect. He had decidedly left things unfinished. Physically speaking.
Sinking back against her pillows, Beth glared at the ceiling.
-
At work, Beth was called in to speak with the scientists again. At first, she was afraid that this was regarding the many missed deadlines and lackluster performance of the lab techs she was in charge of, but it immediately became clear that this had little to do with her actual job.
“We noticed an inconsistency regarding the output,” Walker said. He seemed to always do the talking, Spelding and Rian hanging back to observe in silence.
Beth blinked and processed the remark for a moment. Output meant eggs, then. “Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else to say.
“To elaborate, last Friday there were eight by the days’ end. However, this Monday and Tuesday, you only brought in five and six respectively.”
Beth tried not to grimace at the course of the discussion. She hardly allowed herself to look at the eggs, let alone count them. Had she really produced eight in one day? Four from each breast? Well, that was just gross. But if Beth really thought about it, it could have been more. The eggs frequently fell to the floor and cracked when she was birthing them, or sometimes she found herself irritably throwing them in the garbage or down the toilet depending on her location when the contractions overcame her.
“Yes…well…” Beth still wasn’t sure what to say to all this.
“Based on the growth rate and concentration, you understand why we would have concerns. We want you to pay close attention to your numbers going forward. Maybe you can establish some…regularity. As with digestion, we can guide many functions of our bodies into a routine.”
Beth stared. They were displeased with her…numbers? They wanted more consistency? Or just more eggs in general? And they thought — they thought she had any control over this? All of it was just baffling to Beth. She could hardly believe she was having this conversation at all. The scientists should have been rectifying her anomaly, not trying to increase her output, like she was a damn hen or something. Seriously, what the hell?
And then she started to wonder what they were doing with the eggs? That was even more puzzling. What purpose could they possibly serve?
She wanted to voice all these thoughts, and just how violating this whole thing was altogether. Her breasts were continually growing, presently FFF-cups, and blatantly disproportionate with the rest of her body. Her form was becoming more sexual and blatant. Wherever she went, she was getting attention whether she wanted it or not. Sure, the promotion and raise had numbed some of the sting of it, but this just wasn’t ethical. The scientists — they ought to get in trouble or something!
“Understood,” was all Beth said, reddening at her own cowardice. God, she was absolutely spineless. But she had dedicated eight years of her life thus far to becoming a scientist, and it just seemed too rash to throw that all away.
“Always a team player,” Walker said, perhaps with a hint of smugness, though it was probably just her imagination. He was the villain of her story, after all.
Beth walked off, considering the fact that now, on top of her regular duties at the lab, she also seemed to have become obligated to some sort of egg quota. She grimaced at the thought.
In the following days she made sure to save all the eggs she produced, and found that she indeed was producing not just eight a day, but more. Sometimes she produced up to twelve. The scientists were all too satisfied when she dropped them off. “Good work, Jennings,” they would say, and she would frown at the fact that her anomaly was being treated like it was part of her job.
She was overheated, but even moreso than usual. Her skin was flushed, and her clothing was always damp, seemingly from the moment that she got dressed. She was sweating constantly, and starting to feel flustered and even dizzy at times. Her chest had become a furnace, to the point that Beth would sometimes sneak off to the break room, dig whoever’s frozen snacks out of the freezer, and use it to ice herself down, stuffing a pint of frozen yogurt against her deep fold of cleavage, pressing a container of meal-prepped chicken and rice against her collarbone. It wasn’t exactly sanitary, especially considering the fact that it wasn’t even her food. But Beth felt so overheated she could hardly breathe at times. She would have to remember to bring in a few bags of ice if this went on. Splashing her face with cool water in the bathroom just wasn’t cutting it anymore.
No one called her out on her increasingly frequent breaks. The lab techs would give her glances and whisper amongst themselves, but the scientists seemed like they couldn’t care less. Beth got experimental, and handed in a report with blatant errors. She waited a few days, but continued to only receive positive feedback.
What was her job, exactly?
-
The eggs were coming more frequently. And often, it was just unpredictable. She always felt packed and full, always on the cusp these days. Her nipples only seemed to be getting larger by the day, distended to an outrageous degree, and people couldn’t seem to help staring. Their eyes were magnetized to them, the nubs pointing out and demanding attention. Her breasts had swollen as well, and now resembled honeydew’s as they wobbled gently on her chest with her movements. Any contact with her engorged nipples or puffy areola was practically unbearable, but she tried her best to tolerate it, with the pressure, and the heat. But one day, it was just all too much.
She was having a conversation with one of the technicians. He seemed awfully fidgety, and was fumbling to explain some data points. She had asked for a simple briefing, and he had gotten all panicky. After standing by his cubicle, watching him ramble for twenty minutes straight, Beth’s brain went foggy. She tried to focus. She watched his eyes dart from his computer, to the wall, to her chest, to her face, then do the whole cycle all over again on repeat. To that moment, she could hardly figure out what he was talking about.
Then, oddly, the world went dark.
-
Beth squirmed. She was lying on her side. There was a crinkling noise of tissue paper, like the ones they used on the examination beds. Frowning, she opened her eyes, then flinched them closed. The room was far too bright. It was easy to tell where she was.
She moaned quietly and willed herself to open her eyes again. To the left of her, by the computer console, was Dr. Rian looking over some papers.
“You’re awake,” said Rian, not bothering to look up from the files. “You fainted. Gave us all a scare.” She didn’t sound scared.
“Fainted?” Beth mumbled. That wasn’t like her. She managed to heave herself up to a sitting position, which seemed to take more effort every day. When she looked down at herself, she was astonished to see that she wasn’t in her work attire or even a hospital gown. Someone had stripped her of all but her panties, then put a spandex bandeau top about her breasts. But it was stretched thin, and only really covered her nipples. Her jaw fell slack. “What — how —?” she stammered. “W-where are my clothes?”
“You are overheated,” Rian said calmly, finally turning to face Beth. “Your body temperature was dangerously high. We needed to cool you down. I wouldn’t recommend dressing yourself in that thick blouse or blazer again. All the insulation isn’t good for — for the samples.”
“So what do you expect me to wear? This?” Beth motioned to herself.
“Of course not. Well, at home maybe. Not at the office. But we’re going to need to make some modifications to your wardrobe.”
“This is highly invasive,” Beth blurted, before her predilections towards ass-kissing could stop her.
Rian simply raised a brow. “Indeed, it is. But it’s what you signed up for.”
And that was that.
-
They provided her with a full wardrobe. Everything was lighter, airier, and at times, just immodest. None of it was vaguely professional. She couldn’t believe she was expected to go into the office dressed like this.
There were blouses that were so thin they were close to transparent, and they didn’t include enough buttons. Not to cover her cleavage. Everything was terribly, terribly low-cut. And it was recommended that she wear skirts instead of pants, for more airflow to her legs. Thin skirts and thin tops. Everything light, and airy, and extremely, extremely low-cut.
The scientists even advised her against a bra, but Beth didn’t think it was possible. Firstly, her huge nipples would just be out there, visible through the fabric. And secondly, the sensation of them rubbing into her clothing would rob her of all functionality. It just wasn’t possible.
The first day she showed up at the office in her new attire, the technicians all stared at her, some of them stopping in their tracks. Dennis White even dropped a pile of papers he had been carrying. Peter Smith folded his hands over his groin. Beth was blushing violet, wanting to disappear even though everything about her presentation indicated the opposite. Because her outfit just begged for attention, huge tits practically out in the open, flushed and sweaty, her clothing dampening even then. Short skirt, skimpy shirt. Everything steadily getting pasted to her by sweat. Sure, the heat wasn’t as bad. But the trade-off was just ridiculous. She felt naked.
And yet she tried to make this work. She just had to get through the rest of her program.
“Do you have a minute?” Matthew Ferver asked as he lightly knocked on her office doorframe later that afternoon. Because the door was already partway open (open-door policy and all) he caught sight of Beth halfway through a large box of chocolate donuts. She choked slightly, her cheeks bulging. She squeezed her eyes shut, then gulped down the large clump of chewed pastry in her mouth.
Matthew gave an awkward cough of his own. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
“No,” Beth managed, shoving the remaining donuts back into her desk drawer, though it was no secret that her appetite was out of control lately. “What can I do for you?” She brushed some crumbs off her cleavage, then straightened up, trying to look poised, even though she was all but.
“I just wanted you to look over my new assignment. I think it might conflict with the project that Tom is working on.” He handed over a folder.
Beth laid it across her desk and began to hastily flip through the pages. A droplet of sweat rolled down her nose. She hastily wiped it away. She frowned and looked off for a moment. Maybe longer than a moment.
“Uh, boss?”
“You know Beth is fine,” Beth said, forcing her attention back to the paperwork. “Sorry, just a bit distracted.”
Then it hit her abruptly, with no warning. “Mmmmnn…” She arched, her fingers cupping the undersides of her swollen breasts. Her nipples twitched and swelled as her face twisted. God, the eggs were getting way too big for her. She pushed herself against the back of her chair as her feet fumbled. She panted and groaned.
An egg started its slow procession out of her right nipple. “Nghhhh…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “C’monnnnn…ohhhhh…” She moaned, feeling it push at a painstakingly slow pace, as her bra bulged and breasts bounced with subtle contractions. Another egg started to emerge from her left nipple, her shirt dampening. It seemed to take far too long, but finally both popped free. She was left gasping and seeping, hanging her head.
There was a choking noise. Beth’s head snapped up as she belatedly remembered Matthew’s presence.
He staggered backwards, towards the door. “S-sorry, I-I’ll come back l-later.” With that, he hurried off.
