Experimental Expression Ch. 04

Iris awoke the next morning and immediately noticed a change in her body. She felt... heavier. It took her a little extra effort to get out of bed, her breasts swinging freely beneath her gown. She walked into the bathroom to look at herself, and noticed already that her belly had begun to change shape. It was subtle, but it curved out slightly in a way it had not the day prior. Iris ran a hand over the new crest of her stomach, turned to the side in the mirror to see her profile. Her huge breasts hung down over her belly, both nipples dripping onto the floor. She gazed down at her body for a long time, stroking her tits and playing with her nipples, admiring how she had transformed into a perfect milking machine, and a perfect breeder.

The knock came at the door as Cindy arrived for breakfast, and as she entered, Iris was already bent over the bed, waiting for her shot. Cindy smiled at her, and wordlessly performed the injection.

"You're such a good girl, Iris." Iris blushed at the compliment.

"Thank you. I wanna be good. When I'm good, I feel good." As the hormones had taken effect over the time she had been there, Iris had unconsciously formed an association between the shots and her pleasure. As she grew more and more aroused, less and less capable of independent thought, more and more submissive and obedient, Iris grew to love the way her body and mind were changing. Sometimes, Iris felt like she could stay there being milked forever.

"Well, be good and have some breakfast. Oh, and get your milker on, you're leaking all over the floor. We wouldn't want to waste any of that, now would we?" Cindy chastised. Iris nodded and grabbed the machine, attaching the suction cups to her receptive nipples and switching it on. As the suction began, Iris shuddered with pleasure and reached down to touch herself, not caring that she was being watched. Cindy smiled and let herself out, leaving Iris to her own devices.

The day went by as usual, with Iris occasionally swapping out the containers on the milking machine as they filled up, her breasts producing milk continuously to the point that even thirty minutes after being milked, they would become engorged to a painful degree, causing the need for constant milking. As she went about her day, Iris noticed her belly continue to slowly change shape, growing slightly in size as the day went on. She felt heavier, not just her breasts, but her whole body. She felt more tired, spending much of the day laying down, her huge breasts splayed out to the sides. I wonder what's gonna happen next, she thought with a shiver.

Over the next three days, Iris's belly swelled to the size of a woman six months' pregnant. Iris felt the pressure of the growing eggs pressing up against her organs, her womb stretching rapidly as it accommodated the pregnancy. Her stomach was now large enough that her breasts rested on top of it, and when she wasn't attached to a milker, her nipples sent rivulets of milk running over her round belly and dripping off onto the floor. As time went by, she found it harder and harder to walk around as she grew bigger and bigger. Soon she was able to feel the basic shape of the eggs inside of her if she ran her hand over her taut skin. They were soft, but distinct, and she could feel at least two dozen, if not more. Twice daily, after her hormone injection, a researcher came to her room for a progress exam, measuring the size of her stomach and palpating her abdomen.

On the fifth day after being impregnated, Iris was brought to a room for an ultrasound. She now appeared to be eight months' pregnant, and Iris walked slowly to the exam room with her hands cupped beneath her belly. She undressed and lay down naked on the table, and the ultrasound technician coated her distended stomach with clear jelly. Iris giggled at the sensation and touched her clit idly. She no longer felt any sense of shame at masturbating openly, and the researchers seemed to encourage it anyway. The technician ran the wand over her belly, black and white images on the screen showing dozens of round, soft-shelled eggs about the size of tangerines.

"You're looking great," said the technician, taking notes as she went. "You only have a couple more days of growth before you'll be induced. Are you excited?" Iris nodded.

"How much bigger will they get?" she asked.

"About the size of tennis balls, maybe a little bigger. Don't worry, the hormones you were given to prepare you for this process increases tissue elasticity," said the technician, and Iris cocked her head. "Sorry, I mean it makes you stretchier."

"Oh," Iris said, "that's good then." The technician finished taking the ultrasound and gave Iris a towel to clean off the gel. As she wiped it off of her round belly, the eggs inside her womb jostled against each other, pressing against the walls of her uterus and the inside of her cervix, and Iris couldn't help but moan. After being walked back to her room, Iris shuffled to her bed and flopped down, untangling the tubes attached to her nipples. The milker had almost become a part of her, and she often forgot it was there. It reminded her to swap out her container again, and she lined the filled liter container up next to the six others on her table.

Iris decided she wanted a break from the machine, so she unhooked it, removed her robe, and went into the bathroom to shower. The water coursing over her was ecstasy, the patter of droplets on the stretched skin of her breasts and stomach bringing her to orgasm on its own. She rubbed soap over her body, letting her hands slip frictionless over her taut stomach. Even bigger, she thought. I can't wait to see how big.

Two more days went by, and Iris's stomach swelled even further. She could no longer touch her hands if she wrapped her arms around her stomach, and on the seventh day, Iris woke up feeling that the eggs had shifted, sitting low in her pelvis, pressing up against the back of her cervix. She rolled out of bed with some effort and waddled to the mirror. She looked almost comically huge, her breasts resting atop her enormous pregnant belly. She giggled at the sight of herself. Today must be the day, she thought. I'm gonna give birth.

Two researchers arrived after breakfast to collect her, and they walked slowly with her to new room. Iris guessed it must be a delivery room; there was a chair in the middle, low to the floor, with the seat reminiscent of a toilet seat. The stool was placed over a depression in the floor, in which rested a shallow plastic bin lined with something that reminded Iris of the bibs they make you wear at the dentist.

"Iris, please remove your gown and take a seat on the birthing stool," said one researcher, and Iris obliged. She felt a little cold sitting naked on the stool, her knees bent up in a squatting position. Her pussy felt exposed, and it made Iris wetter. Two more researchers appeared, and all four flitted around the room, doing some sort of prep. One approached Iris and gave her an injection in her bicep. A second scientist brought over a milking machine and attached the milkers to Iris's breasts. Another reached down and inserted two fingers into her vagina, feeling her cervix, before withdrawing her hand and making a note. Iris shivered, her arm hot where she had been given the shot.

"We have administered to you a drug that will induce a very swift labor. You should begin to feel your first contractions—" a researcher began, but before she could finish, Iris clutched her stomach and groaned.

"Ooh, ow, that... was that one?" she asked, and the researcher nodded.

"This will go quickly for you. It will take about ten minutes for your cervix to fully dilate, and then you will enter active labor. We will be monitoring you closely throughout the process." Iris nodded, and another contraction crashed over her. The pain was like bad period cramps, she thought, but there was an undercurrent of pleasure, and she grew more and more aroused. Every couple of minutes, a researcher penetrated her to measure the dilation of her cervix, until one declared, "okay, it's time." Iris instinctively knew what they meant, and began to push.

She felt the first egg push against her cervix and she groaned as it pressed through into her vaginal canal, its flexible shell slipping through with relative ease in spite of its size. Iris bore down as hard as she could on the egg, and it pushed lower and lower down her birth canal until, if she reached down to feel it, she could touch the smooth, warm exterior of the egg. She pushed in waves, stopping for a moment and feeling the egg slip back inside, before pushing again, each time the egg stretching her entrance more and more. Finally, Iris gave one final push, and the first egg slipped out, landing in the padded bin beneath her. It was slightly elliptical in shape, white, and about the size of a fist, and glistened with fluid under the overhead lights.

Iris breathed a sigh of relief, but kept pushing. Sweat poured from her brow and her legs trembled with effort as she pushed out the next egg, and the next. Each came quicker than the last as her vagina stretched to accommodate their exit, and soon they were popping out of her one right after the other. As the bins grew full, a researcher would whisk one away and replace it with an empty one. With every egg she was able to push out, her belly shrunk little by little, until finally she birthed the last egg and her belly was nearly at its normal size, though still a little distended from the pregnancy.

Iris panted, exhausted from the birthing process, which had taken about thirty minutes. She reached down to touch her pussy, which was slightly stretched from the process, but not painful. She sighed and glanced around, seeing the researchers all doing different tasks at lab tables around the room. Two of them turned to Iris and walked over to her.

"You did a great job, Iris. Your contribution is going to make such a splash in the scientific community, we can't overstate how grateful we are." Iris blushed.

"Please stand as best you can and come lay down on the exam table over here." The two researchers disconnected her from the milkers and offered their arms to help Iris stand, her legs trembling and threatening to give out beneath her. With great effort, Iris was helped over to the table and laid down on top of it. The researchers grabbed her legs and gently guided them into the stirrups. Iris looked up at the ceiling, exhausted from her ordeal. I wonder what they're doing now?

A third researcher approached the table and slid something into Iris's sore vagina, and Iris felt something squirt deep inside her. The something pulled out, and another one replaced it for a second squirt.

Are they... doing it again? Iris thought, her chest fluttering, but she was too exhausted to protest. Hm. Well, I guess it wasn't too bad. I liked being pregnant. Being pregnant makes me horny. I guess I'll let them do it again...