The Incubator Ch. 02

Erin slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the daylight filling the room. She blinked, struggling to clear the drowsiness from her head, and looked around in confusion. What was going on? Why was she lying face down on the floor of the living room instead of upstairs in her bed?

What the fuck?

Then the memory of the night before hit her, causing her to jolt awake. A wasp—no, a fucking huge wasp—had attacked her while she was taking out the garbage. It had stung her—which had hurt like hell—rendering her helpless on her living room floor. If she weren't currently sprawled half-naked on the carpet, she would have taken the recollection for a dream.

But it wasn't a dream. It had really happened.

She sat up, grimacing, and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Her neck was crinked from sleeping face down on the floor all night, and there was a throbbing ache coming from her lower back. She reached around, touching the spot gingerly, and felt a lump the size of a baseball, just above her right hip. The spot where the wasp had stung her. She winced, remembering the pain as the stinger plunged into her body and pumped her full of potent venom.

But the agony of the sting was gone, replaced by no more than a lingering itch. Otherwise, she didn't feel too terrible, considering that an egg had been forcibly laid inside her... the egg! Holy fuck. Heart pounding, her hands flew to her stomach, as if she might be able to feel the bulge of her impregnated womb.

Oh, God. It all came flooding back—the wasp mounting her, its ovipositor entering her pussy and pressing into her defenseless body; her moans as she came to the unexpected and overwhelming pleasure as she was impregnated by the inhuman creature. And now here she was with an egg lodged inside of her, involuntarily seeded with a capsule of insect life.

However, her tummy gave no sign of the inhuman coupling that had taken place just hours before—no sign a gigantic wasp had squeezed an egg through her cunt and into her womb, or that she was now germinating a parasite within her body. The only hint of the previous night's events was her stricken panties, which clung in tattered remnants to her hips, leaving her tender slit exposed and vulnerable.

Erin looked blearily around. She wanted to go crawl into bed and sleep the day away. Physically, she didn't feel too bad, better than she would have expected, in fact. But she was still drained from the ordeal, and sleeping on the floor hadn't helped matters.

Unfortunately, the light coming in the front windows indicated the morning was already far along, and she had to log on today for a bi-weekly team check-in at work. Damn. Hopefully she hadn't already missed it.

With a reluctant groan, she staggered to her feet. The front door was still open—fucking great—and she shuffled over to close it. Thank fuck some nosy neighbor hadn't come over to check on her. Well, whatever. Bullet dodged this time, at least.

After ensuring the front door was locked, she dragged herself upstairs to take a shower. On her way, she checked the time, and was relieved to see she still had some minutes to spare until her meeting started. Time enough to get cleaned up first, and hopefully get the aches out with a hot shower.

Nevertheless, as Erin soaped herself under the warm water, she considered calling in sick for the rest of the day. Her head was still cloudy with exhaustion, and perhaps the lingering effects of the wasp venom. And she still needed to mentally process what had happened. She'd just been knocked up by a fucking bug as big a she was, for God's sake.

She could still hardly believe it. Up until a few short months ago, she'd never stepped foot on another planet, and had only ever heard of the bizarre creatures that were discovered on an almost weekly basis, with every new colony established. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined something like this could happen.

For the second time that morning, her hands descended to her now sudsy belly, stroking the smooth skin. It was incredible to think there was really an insect egg inside of her, at that very moment. Her pulse raced faster as she imagined the egg, incubating week by week, until eventually hatching a plump, squirming larva into her womb. And then—she would give birth—

Erin let out a moan as her pussy clenched with illicit arousal. As the spray of the shower carried the last of the suds away, she allowed her hands to stray lower across her stomach until they found her wet slit. Just last night the wasp had been using her here, penetrating her defenseless cunt with its smooth, unyielding ovipositor. And before long, her tight hole would be used again as the newborn larva wriggled through it and out into the world.

Her knees shook as her pussy clenched again.

God, I've got a giant fucking wasp egg inside me. And it's making me horny. Shit.

She ran her trembling fingers up and down her slit, trying to wrap her head around her current situation. In the matter of a few minutes, she'd been reduced by the wasp to nothing more than a living egg sac—a human incubator. Her womb wasn't her own, anymore. It had been subjugated by another species, an insect, satisfying its unthinking imperative to breed. Her own reproductive functions, of no use to the wasp, had been supplanted, nullified.

She leaned against the side of the shower, out of the steaming spray, head thrown back and fingers working feverishly at her clit. Jerking and moaning, she brought herself to a shuddering climax, each contraction of her snatch recalling the delicious sensation as the wasp slid its ovipositor into her helpless body.

Flushed and panting, she sagged against the shower wall. Her fingers had taken some of the edge off, but her cunt still throbbed with arousal. Orgasming on her own hand was nothing like the mind-numbing climaxes wrung from her by the wasp's chitinous, egg-laying member—or the egg itself, as it squeezed its way through her tight passage to infest her womb.

Perhaps it was the methodical way the wasp had used her body that made it so hot, treating her as nothing more than a convenient receptacle for the incubation of its young. It didn't care that she was a member of an intelligent species with language and supermarkets; to the wasp, she was just another animal, equipped with a suitable hole to be used and filled.

With a desperate shake of her head, Erin stood up unsteadily from the side of the shower and tried to collect herself.

Goddammit, Erin. Get it together!

Somehow, she managed to resist touching herself again and finish showering. She still had to check in at work, but her mind wasn't on the upcoming meeting. Even as she stood toweling off in the steaming bathroom, she felt a fresh rivulet of her juices drip from her frustrated pussy and creep down her thigh.

With a tortured whimper, she stomped from the bathroom to get dressed. Ignoring the wetness still seeping from her slit, she threw on clean sweatpants and a t-shirt before plopping down at her computer. She signed into her work and made it through the scheduled meeting without incident, managing to mumble through a report on her current projects.

After the meeting, Erin clocked out of work, and messaged her team lead to let them know she wasn't feeling well and would be taking the rest of the day off. In reality, she was still just too distracted to even think about getting any work done.

With work dealt with, she took the time to prepare a generous breakfast. After everything she'd been through, her appetite was prodigious and she quickly demolished a heaping plate of sausages, eggs, and toast. Taking the eggs out of the fridge gave her pause—it reminded her immediately of the wasp's egg nestling in her womb. But, too hungry to be distracted again, she had continued preparing her food undeterred.

After breakfast, she returned to her room and seated herself in front of her computer, legs pulled up against her chest.

It was time to read up on Larsen's Wasps.

She knew a few things about them from the public service announcements, but actually being an incubator for one of their eggs put her in uncharted territory—to say the least. She wanted to know what to expect; how long it would take for the egg to hatch, whether there might be any complications, when she would give birth—

When she would give birth.

She was going to have the egg removed, surely? Even contemplating the question was surreal, even absurd. Removing the egg would be the safe, sensible thing to do. Go to the med-clinic, calmly explain what had happened, and have a procedure done to get the thing out. It wouldn't be right to let the egg stay inside her.

To let it hatch into her.

Trying to ignore her rapidly moistening pussy, Erin logged in to her computer and started searching, looking for anything even remotely pertaining to the wasps. The number of known species had exploded in the age of interstellar travel, and there was often little information to be found on any species in particular. Fortunately for her, there was more than enough on Larsen's Wasps to paint a lurid picture of what was in store for her over the coming weeks.

She had already experienced the first stage of becoming a host—oviposition. That was the technical term for having an egg laid inside of her. Erin felt her pulse quicken as she read the word.

Oviposition.

She repeated it under her breath, savoring the syllables. The term was clinical, yet still somehow suggestive, evoking the image of the wasp lewdly mounting her helpless body, abdomen bent such that its ovipositor was at the optimum angle to enter her pussy.

Erin felt wetness beginning to leak into her panties. Shaking her head, she read on.

When searching for a host, the wasps tended to be most active at night. Their normal host animals were the least alert during the hours of darkness, leaving them especially vulnerable to the wasp's activities. Erin had unwittingly offered herself up just when the wasps were most determined to find a warm, wet hole to fill with their eggs. Oh, God.

The egg would gestate for several weeks after oviposition, during which time the gradual release of hormones would prepare the host's body to birth the larva. Once a suitable amount of time had elapsed, the larva would hatch from the egg and work its way out through the host's reproductive tract.

Erin's research continued to turn up more articles and papers. Before long, she had pulled her sweats and panties down to her knees so that she could tease at her sopping cunt even as her eyes remained fixed on the scrolling text in front of her. While she read, she recalled her own impregnation by the wasp, whimpering and flicking her clit as she paged through each article.

One study described the effects of the wasp venom. Erin's pussy throbbed as she read how the envenomed host would suffer from the effects of sexual arousal, despite their predicament. Vaginal lubrication was assumed to aid with ovipositor insertion, and she repeatedly dipped her fingers into her own clenching, wet channel as she tried to recall the exquisite sensation of being violated by the wasp's impregnating organ.

Another article described what would happen after the larva hatched and birthed. Eyes locked to the computer screen as she continued to frig herself, Erin read how the newly-hatched larva would cling to the body of the host, within easy reach of the mammaries. Doing so allowed it to nurse, sustaining itself on the milk production induced to feed the fledgling parasite.

Gasping, Erin came lewdly on her own hand as she realized the implication—the larva would live off the host as it grew, feeding exclusively on its nutrient-rich milk.

On her milk.

Even after plowing her orgasming cunt as it birthed, the larva—the spawn of an insect—was going to molest her tits for weeks, sucking out all of her fresh milk, as though she was nothing more than a human cow. Oh, God. Sweats and panties long since discarded on the floor, Erin propped her heels on the edge of her desk, and came again.

As the afternoon wore on, Erin came repeatedly to the lewd mental images of a plump larva birthed from between her quivering thighs or suckling greedily at her swollen tits. She read and re-read the scientific studies and reports as though they were the most lascivious smut imaginable. Soon, the seat of her chair was sodden and ruined with her juices, and the smell of her arousal permeated the room.

By the time early evening rolled around, she was slumped forward over her desk, one hand pressed against her mound as her pussy clenched in the throes of her most recent orgasm. God, why was she still so horny? She needed to get a grip. No, not on her cunt. It was so tempting to just give in to the urge, to keep masturbating all night. But she was fucking famished again. Time to scrape together something for dinner.

She staggered to her feet with a reluctant groan, leaving her abandoned sweats and panties on the bedroom floor as she left for the kitchen. Getting up and out of her room seemed to clear her head a bit, and she succeeded in preparing some food, scarfing down the meal as if it was her last.

With dinner out of the way, Erin drifted back upstairs. Her shirt was rank from masturbating in it half the day, so she shucked it off before flopping naked into bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * * * *

After spending a night sleeping on the floor, and the better part of a day masturbating, Erin felt amazingly refreshed from a proper night of sleep in her bed. However, her first waking thought was of the egg nestled in her womb, and her pussy throbbed with excitement.

Somehow, she managed to haul herself out of bed, despite her already simmering arousal. She showered and ate breakfast, then did her best to get back to her usual routine, spending the day doing responsible, grown-up things; logging hours at work, doing laundry, and running errands during the afternoon, when the wasp curfew was briefly relaxed.

It felt so deliciously naughty, though, to go around acting completely normal with the egg incubating inside of her. Every time she thought about it gestating quietly in her womb, her pussy would moisten and clench with excitement. It was just so hot to think about her soft, human body carrying the spawn of an insect, while everyone around her was none the wiser. By the time she got home, her panties were damp almost to the waistband with her arousal.

Curfew due to the wasp breeding season would be in effect again that evening. She wondered if it even applied to her anymore. Would other wasps know somehow that she had already been claimed by one of their own? That she had already been turned into a host? The thought caused her to shiver rapturously.

One important question still remained, however.

When was she going to get the egg removed?

Sitting at her computer later that night, she pulled up one of the pages she'd bookmarked during her research, an article describing the wasp's reproductive cycle. According to the article, she still had at least a couple weeks, maybe three, before the egg would hatch. There was no rush; she still had time.

She slipped a hand under the waistband of her panties, and began to read the article again.

* * * * *

The rest of the week passed in much the same way. Wake up, work, take care of essentials, then spend the rest of the evening with her fingers lodged in her cunt, coming repeatedly to the thought of her predicament.

By now, Erin had realized she was feeling abnormally horny, even when she would usually be tired or distracted by work. While being turned on by the egg incubating inside her was not alarming, a part of her was still bemused by her newfound ability to masturbate almost constantly in her free time.

She had learned from her research that the wasp's venom had an aphrodisiac effect, but there hadn't been any mention of it continuing after the egg had been laid. Maybe the egg affected humans in some way that wasn't apparent in the big animals the wasps normally used as hosts.

The thought that the egg could be affecting her somehow, making her horny, making her want to be a host, was intriguing—maybe even a little bit frightening.

Or maybe even a little bit exciting.

It was almost as though the egg was gently altering her behavior, making her more receptive to the parasite.

The notion was almost absurd; the wasps hadn't evolved alongside intelligent hosts capable of harming an egg once implanted. Either way, Erin had to admit, the idea of having the egg removed grew less attractive with every passing day. Meanwhile, the mere thought of letting the larva hatch and birth out of her was enough to make her sopping wet in seconds. It just seemed ... strangely right, somehow.

Erin couldn't bring herself to blame the wasp for what it had done. It was an animal, after all, acting on pure instinct, doing its best to ensure the continuation of its species. Just because it was a bug, with a totally different body and life cycle from hers, didn't mean it wasn't just as deserving of the chance to live and reproduce. She was just ... giving the wasp a little bit of extra help than it might have otherwise had, that was all.

When the weekend finally rolled around, Erin rose without bothering to put on clothes. Since she didn't have work or errands to worry about, getting dressed seemed like a silly formality. She had a leisurely breakfast, idly stroking her belly as she ate, then wandered back to her room.

Her inner thighs were already wet with her juices, and her pussy was tingling in anticipation. God, she was so horny. She sank to her knees next to the bed, fingers already working desperately in her snatch. With her other hand, she reached up to cup her breasts—and gasped.

Her tits felt fuller and firmer than she remembered from the day before—and she had spent plenty of time with her hands on her breasts in the past week. Her pussy creaming in excitement, she sprang up and scampered to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror.

Viewing her reflection confirmed what she'd felt; her breasts had gained a subtle yet undeniable plumpness, and her areola and nipples were slightly darker and more pronounced.

So it was happening, just like the articles had said. Her body was beginning to produce milk in anticipation of the larva hatching, preparing to sustain the ravenous appetite of the newborn insect. Once again, her human biological functions had been subverted by this alien species, yielding their original purpose to the wasp's survival. Her tits would become insect milk factories, working around the clock to produce sustenance for the rapidly growing larva.

Erin sank to her knees against the bathroom counter, fingers working feverishly between her legs, already coming.

* * * * *

The days continued to go by in a blur, and Erin remained incessantly horny. No matter how many times she brought herself to orgasm, she was never quite satisfied. Time and time again she would climax, gasping and whimpering, wishing that she was instead being bred by the enormous wasp.

Her breasts grew at a remarkable pace, until they hung low and heavy with milk—they became so full, in fact, that a little bit of her rich, creamy yield would leak from her aching tits whenever she had an especially explosive orgasm. Her areola grew as well, becoming larger and darker, and her taut nipples poked out as though begging to be sucked by an insect mouth.

At night, she dreamed of wasps. Her sleeping mind was filled with furtive images of their sparkling, many-faceted eyes, scrabbling black legs, and chitinous alien bodies, eager to claim her and fill her with their spawn.