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“Hey, excuse me in there, miss... Maguire?” the driver read Amy’s name from the docket, following a businesslike knock at the door. Amy had deferred her online order an extra day to get her old delivery man back; judging from the sound of his voice, it was him at the door. But she listened nervously as he continued,
“I’m sorry but I got in trouble when my manager found out I’d been leaving your groceries out here and that I’d been forging your signature. He says I gotta bring the stuff in and get you to sign...”
“Well I just got outta the shower and...” Amy hurriedly broke in,
“Yeah, he said you’d say that,” the man answered, “Look, see... the thing is... you gotta understand how this looks. He thinks I’m ripping the store off here,”
There was a pause as the driver obviously thought his reasonable point had been made, in which Amy’s heart skipped and she panicked silently. She finally managed to choke out from her dried mouth,
“I... c-can’t open the...”
“Look, look, it’s fine, I don’t ask no questions,” he negotiated, “Look, I used to deliver to this chick who was like an agoraphobic, she could only open the door wide enough for me to push the groceries in, she’d lean around the door and scribble on the sheet and I’d be outta there. Look, I’m a flexible guy. That started getting too much for this chick, so I’d do the leave the stuff in the hall dealy. But I’m not allowed anymore. I’ll lose my job,”
He paused, before concluding,
“Whatever’s going on behind that door, hell, none o’ my business... but could you do me a favour and let me bring this stuff in?”
There was another pause much longer than before,
“And did I mention that I’m real uninquisitive,” the man added. Amy smiled. He sounded sweet enough. Snapping herself into serious deliberation, Amy felt like she was weighing up her options for hours on end, but the silence only totalled a few seconds in reality. Understandably, she was terrified of opening the door and revealing herself to a complete stranger whilst all but naked and so puffed up with babies she could barely stand. She decided emphatically that the delivery man couldn’t see her if she did let him in; but dare she even do that? There lay the overwhelming danger that he would see her body and immediately raise the alarm. There was also the possibility that he would simply take her much-needed food away if she didn’t let him in. But Amy began favouring letting him in as she had thought about how difficult it was for her to wash that morning. Her small, poorly-equipped apartment only hosted an en suite bathroom with a shower cubicle, and simply standing up for the required amount of time to shower was becoming a struggle due to Amy’s spiralling weight. Her sheer size was also a hindrance in itself, as her belly was now so large that she had to back herself into the shower to wash her body, then troublesomely turn around in the tiny bathroom to insert her vast gut into the cubicle. Amy filled the booth up further and further each day, her endlessly-bulging tummy scraping and grinding across the wet glass and tiles as the water drummed on her drum-tight skin. Equally troublesome was performing menial tasks such as fetching the groceries from outside her front door, which Amy simply wouldn’t be able to fit through for very much longer. Already her belly bumped and bounded from side-to-side when negotiating doorways before eventually finding a route through with a few inches’ clearance on either flank,
“Look, Steve? It is Steve, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,”
“I’ll put the door on the latch... once you hear it click, count to ten... put the groceries to the left of the door, I’ll be behind the door. You stay one side, I’ll stay the other... I’ll take the clipboard off you and sign it...”

*****

“Uhhh... hey, miss Maguire,” the voice came cagily upon Steve’s next visit. His previous drop-off to Amy had been a disaster. Amy just hadn’t banked on how much of a logistical task it would be to manoeuvre her belly in such a way as to pick up the clipboard, sign the delivery note, leave it for Steve to pick up and move out of view. Her enormous tummy rendered a space in front of her measureable in square yards a complete blind spot, she couldn’t even see the clipboard unless she was beside it. And then either swinging her belly around or retracing her steps in reverse were equally tricky in the cramped hallway,
“Ok Steve, I’ll put the door on the latch,” Amy told him, “Put the groceries down, then I’ll be to your right,”
Breathless with anticipation and with her heart beating furiously in her chest, Amy’s fingers grasped the small silver clip near the door handle. She had to pull down the handle and click the latch into place to leave the door unlocked. She took as deep a breath as her stuffed body would allow, snapped the catch and began counting immediately in her mind. It was only at that moment that Amy seemed to feel the true extent of her astounding weight through her crazily-curved spine as she attempted to carry her immense bellyload. Panicking, she thought as she struggled to shift her titanic bulk that perhaps ten seconds to wobble the handful of yards to her destination wasn’t enough. But thankfully Amy eventually reached her intended position by around the count of eight in her head, and it wasn’t until a considered count of fifteen that the front door swung open gradually. A pair of toned but by no means burly arms stacked the green crates to the left of the door. After several of these had appeared, a relatively young, lightly freckled and fair-haired man in his early twenties stepped into the apartment and looked hesitantly about. Amy stood with her back into the hallway, a robe swathing the visible parts of her body and her giant tits and belly ballooning into her bedroom. But from where Steve stood, all he could see was a woman standing in a doorway. Amy poked her cute elfin face around the door jamb,
“Don’t get too close... I’m, uh... terrified of germs... I’m a mysophobe,” she lied as Steve cautiously approached, having learned the term from a quick preparatory Google. He held the clipboard defensively against his body, and handed it over at both of their combined arms’ lengths,
“Thank you ma’am,” he smiled and even bowed slightly as she signed and returned the paperwork, “You have yourself a good day,”
Amy returned his smile weakly as she felt her legs beginning to buckle under the tremendous weight of her bump. Steve turned briskly and let himself out, furrowing his brow as he dragged his packing truck back down the corridor. Even with the offending parts of her body pointing into the room and the rest of her covered with a bathrobe, Steve could tell something was wrong. The glimpses he got of her body were ridiculously out of proportion. Her back was curved terrifyingly. The manner in which she leant backwards from the doorway was incredibly unnatural. But, true to his word, he was an uninquisitive man, and although theories and questions popped into his mind, he was happy enough to leave them unfulfilled and unanswered. Amy stood frozen whilst the clattering of the two-wheeled sack truck was still in earshot, but heaved a sigh of relief as soon as silence fell, leaning wearily on the doorframe as her leg muscles burned with exertion. After a few moments’ rest, she mustered the energy to heave her ballooning body over to the front door and release the catch. She pressed her back to the door and sunk downwards slightly

*****

*FWUUMMPP!*
“Uuunnngghfff!” Amy was jolted awake by a devastatingly hard kick near the top of her belly that seemed to shudder her entire womb. A painful-looking welt of burst blood vessels immediately shone into her face from her upwards-facing tummy where the blow had been delivered and the guilty baby wavered distinguishably below the surface of Amy’s reddened skin,
“Ohhhh, good morning to you too!” Amy scolded as she rubbed the contusion, which was luckily in the diminishing percentage of her tummy that was still within arms’ length. This was just about the only thing about her that was diminishing however, and as she lay nursing her latest wound, she evaluated her nights’ growth. It was about average for the past few nights, although she had noticed her rate of expansion was increasing slightly but definitely as of late. Her tummy ballooned upwards off the mattress, to a height of at least four feet in a flattened curve above her. Spread across her bed by her prone position, Amy’s belly bulged outwards like a torpedo, squashed overnight by gravity to a lengthy ellipse. Once Amy stood up it always re-established its roughly spherical symmetry, although its sheer weight pulled down on her petite frame. Meanwhile her preposterously saturated boobs lay one on top of the other, as round and heavy as bowling balls and both stiff with milk. She stared downwards at the swell of breast flesh blocking the view of perhaps the first ten or twelve inches of her belly, easily tracing the dark blue veins that snaked beneath her stretched skin. Disturbed from her reverie, Amy was all at once aware of pressure building up around the front of her belly. Trying at first to ignore what she thought was a growth spurt, she realised as the force gained strength that it was concentrated in one particular place. The localised pressure built and built until Amy had to bite her lip to not scream aloud. She craned her neck to see the cause, and could just discern a bulge pushing outwards beneath her skin; it was a baby kicking. They were developing their own personalities, with this one choosing not to lash out like some of its brothers and sisters but to slowly and deliberately outstretch a limb into Amy’s belly. As suddenly as it had started, the baby ceased its thrust and Amy’s bruised skin dipped back inwards,
“I don’t think you need to test my stretchiness any more than you already are,” she muttered, taking the babies’ restlessness as a cue to get up. Her colossal belly had unsurprisingly become extremely difficult for Amy to crane out of bed lately, but this morning she felt doubly oppressed by her bursting bust, which had swelled to near her chin overnight. Several of her children felt now was the time to complain of Amy’s lack of movement with a series of kicks,
“I’m pretty much pinned by my belly and my boobs right now,” she groaned to them, still laying on her side and cupping the upper curves of her tender breasts, “Oohhh, if only I didn’t have these zeppelins I might be able to get up!”
The babies seemed to coax her on with encouraging kicks, which stirred her into action and soon Amy was levering herself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. With a final push with her legs accompanied by a grunt of effort, Amy raised her gravid form to vertical, and was confronted immediately with her counterpart in the mirror in front of her,
“Oh jeez, check out these gazongas!” she gawked at her busty reflection, temporarily blind to the huge belly bursting from her tiny form. What was most scary was that Amy’s pregnancy differed to others she had known in more ways than the obvious sheer size. Whilst most women she had heard of put on weight all over their bodies during pregnancy, Amy’s figure remained steadfastly the same no matter how much her belly and boobs grew. No matter how much she ate (and she could barely keep up with her babies’ demands lately), no weight stuck anywhere else on her body, which remained stick-thin. This was to Amy’s disadvantage, and she sorely needed some extra mass to assist her in carrying her titanic tits and tummy. When she did muster the energy to move, her massive gut slowed Amy to a crawl; she wobbled along painfully slowly and her belly bounced and lurched, seemingly uncontrollably. Most worryingly, her slight frame could barely cope as she strained under the huge weight and her midriff’s skin struggled with the rotund bulk. Her bump felt ready to split off her at times, as Amy rubbed her stretched haunches where the drum tight orb of her belly popped out of her midriff. Despite this, her babies seemed to claim all the nourishment that Amy stuffed into her body, whilst their mother was spared little sustenance, and certainly not enough to bulk up as she needed to. Meanwhile, her mottled, marbled skin was shared scantly between her bulgingly enormous boobs and vastly more inflated belly, seemingly insufficient to cover all simultaneously. Amy’s breasts alone were now far larger than any she had ever seen before, but were comprehensively dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of her tummy, which hungrily monopolised upon the distribution of her meagre skin supply. She was constantly surprised as to how much her body had been able to stretch over the past few weeks, clearly augmented by a stringent dose of maternal hormones. But even her almost magically elastic skin was beginning to betray its limits, its marks and blemishes growing in number and severity by the hour.

*****

Over his subsequent visits, Steve developed a very strange feeling about what was in the room that Amy’s bizarre body blocked the entrance to. Each time she was stood in exactly the same place, exactly the same position. He had two conflicting instincts; either that the room contained a mass of compulsively hoarded possessions, or that one or more person was hiding in there. Steve couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a definite sense of a presence beyond the doorway. The room was in some way occupied, and Amy was either protecting or intimidated by whatever lurked in front of her. Steve could easily have simply barged the lightly-built teen out of the way had his suspicions truly been stirred, but he was nothing if not honest and asked no questions of Amy. They barely spoke whenever Steve arrived, but still when he saw the address on the day’s delivery list, he would allow no other driver to make that drop. During their transaction, Amy would try her best to smile sweetly whilst the stirring contents of her enormous womb visibly squirmed around beneath her translucently taut belly skin in her peripheral vision.
She knew it couldn’t last. Sure enough, Steve’s next visit coincided with a frenzied period of activity inside Amy, and she just couldn’t calm her babies even as the delivery arrived,
*DUMMMPPH!*
“What was that?” Steve asked, looking up suddenly. Amy had to compose herself for a moment to not grunt aloud before answering,
“What was what?”
“That noise,” Steve pursued, “Sounded like a... bird flew into the window or somethin’,”
“Oh I didn’t hear it. It must be my neighbours,” Amy tried her best to act calm as she handed Steve the clipboard, “I’ve gotten so used to it I don’t notice,”
Steve knew he was being lied to, but the nevertheless just nodded as he took the grimy slate from his customer. He was literally about to turn on his heels and walk out of the door when,
*DDMMPPPH!*
“There it is again!” he exclaimed, as sweat formed on Amy’s brow. She had been standing up for a long time now by her own standards,
“Oh, yeah, that,” she nodded, “Neighbours,”
*BBMMPPH!*
“Lady, you got some pretty noisy neighbours,” Steve commented, conscious that the sound clearly came from within the apartment, “They upstairs or downstairs?”
“Downstairs,”
“Yeah well they sound like they’re gonna come through the goddamn...”
*DUUMMPPH!*
Amy flinched at the kick. She couldn’t help it; it was so hard and aimed just where a bruise already existed. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose as the pain subsided,
“Look lady, d’you mind telling me what’s goin’ on here?” Steve demanded, “Weird’s weird but if there’s some illegal shit goin’ on here, I’d like to go asleep at night knowin’ I done somethin’ about it, y’know?”
“Maybe you should go,” Amy half-grunted,
“Lady if I walk out that door without a decent explanation, I’m comin’ back with the cops,”
“Oh, no!” she started, her eyes shooting open in anxiety,
“Then just what’s the deal?”
Feeling not only that her cover was blown, but that she was about to blow apart herself, Amy leant on the doorframe in the way she usually did after Steve left. Her right hand disappeared inside the room to rub the vast naked flank of her cavernous belly,
“Just... promise you won’t freak out, alright?” she said, with a glance to her gut, which writhed with so much activity she was surprised at how well she’d managed to disguise it before the sound of her babies’ kicks roused Steve’s suspicion. Slowly on her buckling legs, Amy backed out of the doorway to reveal her enormous secret. More and more seemed to keep on coming from the man’s profile perspective of the teenager’s shockingly stretched and at times blotted midriff. There was an impossible amount of her, and she was amazingly inflated, her stomach skin slick and shiny. When it seemed she would run out of space in the hallway to step into, Amy’s belly curved and came to a relatively abrupt halt several meters from her body. She had just enough space to swing around her laden girth from the doorway to face Steve, who was equally shocked to see her belly was almost as wide as it was long. She was stretched to the limit, a tormented strip of darkened skin threatening to rip apart running down her belly interrupted by a barely popped-out navel affording a few precious centimetres of space for her already-bursting bump to tremblingly swell into,
“Oh, God,” Amy rolled her eyes and covered her engorged nipples as she realised she had unwittingly flashed her boobs at Steve in the process of showing her belly. He couldn’t have been less concerned with them however, as his jaw seemed to rest on his chest, with his widened eyes trained on Amy’s colossal tum,
“Jesus lady what the hell is goin’ on there!? We gotta get you to a hospital!”
“No, please, just calm down and I’ll...” Steve was rambling none-stop however,
“...some sort of tumor or somethin’ like you see on TV...”
*BUMMFF!*
“JE-sus, that thing’s tryna get out!”
It was some time before Steve calmed down and Amy felt she had managed to dissuade him from running straight out of the door. He paced frantically up and down in front of the titanic teen, who leant against the corridor wall to alleviate her burdened hips,
“So... so, what... what the hell? You’re pregnant?” Steve asked, having heard a brief explanation of the events surrounding Amy’s dramatic inflation,
“Pregnant?” Amy chuckled, “There’s pregnant and then there’s... oh God, I’m just crammed, there’s no part of me that doesn’t feel full to bursting,”
“So go see a doctor,”
“And say what, exactly?”
“Gee, I dunno, ‘Get this goddamn thing outta me’?” Steve replied sarcastically. Amy felt a rage bubble up inside of her and all at once found herself ranting at this man she barely knew as if possessed,
“God Steve, you’re a delivery driver for a reason you fucking moron... you think there’s just one big baby in here? And you think they’d just whip the lil’ blighter out, no questions asked?”
A stunned silence hung in the air as Amy’s outburst ended and the wrath seemed to course from her mind, carried away in her bloodstream. She felt herself again as she stuttered,
“I’m... oh, I’m... so sorry... I-I-I really have no idea where that came from... I’m so sorry...”
“N-no... no, I guess you’re right...” a chastened Steve mumbled,
“Look, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone about this,” said Amy, cutting to the chase as she felt her bloated body beginning to tire from all the standing up,
“And what are you gonna do about it?” Steve asked,
“I... I haven’t decided yet, you’ve just got to promise me you won’t come back here with the army or something,” answered Amy,
“Why would I come back with the army?” Steve pressed,
“I don’t... fucking know alright, just don’t tell anyone anything, okay?” an increasingly exhausted Amy grumbled in a frustrated tone as her enormous belly and beachball-sized boobs hung arduously off her body,
“Look, Miss...”
“...Amy,”
“Miss Amy,” Steve muddled his words, to a weak smile from the vast preggo, “I mean, look... Amy. I won’t tell no one nothin’ you don’t want me to, but I ain’t exactly comfortable leaving you here like this,”
“Yeah well I ain’t exactly comfortable myself,” Amy groaned, emulating Steve’s figures of speech in a way she never would have previously dared as her skin struggled gamely with her titanic gut, “I’m gonna sit down before I pop or something,”
She swung her bursting belly back around through the doorway and waddled arduously across the bedroom to her mattress, perching herself heavily on its front. Steve hesitated at the doorway,
“Look, d’you wanna, like, take my number?” he began, “If you decide what to do about... ah, all this... give me a call, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll give you a call if I run outta cumquats, delivery boy,” Amy chuckled breathlessly,
“Seriously... you look like you could use a delivery boy any second,” Steve half-smiled, scribbling a cellphone number on the bottom of the day’s docket and offering it to the blimp-sized young girl,
“Just... leave it on the shelf,” she nodded towards the massive plateau of her belly, and Steve flinchingly tossed the A4 sheet atop her rotund tum. He wavered as if to say something else, but turned to leave,
“Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”

*****

“Are you too cold?” she spoke to her tummy the next evening, soliciting no response. Amy could tell her babies were restless about something, and that if she just named it they would be able to signal a remedy,
“So you’re too hot?” she nodded, but again found no reaction from her passengers, “Ah... bored?”
All was still in her womb as again she failed to divine the right answer,
“Sleepy?” she asked,
‘Please be sleepy,’ she implored in her mind,
“Are you asleep?” she asked hopefully, her heart sinking as she felt activity to the contrary,
“You... want me to read you a story? Rub you better?” she tried, watching her giant belly quiver as she felt her babies becoming more and more impatient. Blinking and sighing as she realised she knew already what her demanding cargo wanted, with trepidation she tried once more,
“Hungry?” she tentatively questioned, to which the response was a definitely affirmative series of excited kicks. Puffing another sigh from her mouth, she rolled her eyes in weary anticipation. Her babies had become particularly insistent about food lately, and Amy had been regularly eating more than her comfortable fill in attempting to appease them,
“Fine...” she concurred, “What shall we have? Pasta? Pizza? Eggs? Rice? Burgers? Ice cream?”
Again her belly rocked with enthusiasm as she suggested ice cream. Heaving her bloated frame into the kitchen area and retrieving a tub of ice cream from the freezer, Amy sat at the dining table using her preferred method of plonking her giant belly on the floor first then lowering herself into a chair,
“Okay... tell me when to stop,” she told her brood, digging a spoon into the frozen dessert, scooping some out and sticking a lump on her tongue.

“Uuuuuuggghhh! Haven’t you had enough yet? Mommy is so full!” she groaned an hour and several tubs later. Amy rubbed her midriff ineffectively, her stomach buried beneath an extensive mound of flesh and babies; she felt it burbling with fullness, pints and pints of ice cream churning around inside it as her brood prodded her innards inquisitively,
“Well I’ve had enough! I’m not eating any more!” she decided. This displeased her babies, and her midriff skin seethed with action as they threw a tantrum as one. Amy looked on in alarm as her stretchmark-speckled gut reeled with fervor, feeling the pinch of blows landed on the underside of her floor-bolstered belly,
“Hey! Hey wait, no! Stop! Just... Hhhnnnnnggh!” she winced as an ill-aimed kick within her struck her bloated stomach, forcing an uncomfortable belch up her throat,
“*BWWUUUUURRRPP!*” she blasted, “Unngh! Okay, I’ll carry on, just... stop kicking!”
Their mother’s impassioned shout seemed to pacify Amy’s children slightly as she shakily picked the spoon back up, despite feeling very sick already,
“Just a... just a little more, okay?” she offered, as her babies’ activity calmed down to a contented bubbling below her skin once more. But they blackmailed Amy into going, and going and going. Hours later and with night drawing in, Amy groaned, as did her belly skin,
“Ohhhhh God, I don’t know if I’m fuller of babies or ice cream!”
Incredibly, with five large tubs of dessert lying empty in front of her on the table, Amy’s belly was definitely larger than when she had started eating. The miserable teen slumped onto the table, her head in her arms, as she polished off the very last of it. Yet still her children were unsatisfied, despite the fact that Amy was beyond satiated,
“You can’t *UUUURRRPPP!* still be hungry!” she protested, “Oohhhh I’m gonna barf!”
The ruckus inside her failed to cease however, and it took very little movement on her babies’ part before Amy was so uncomfortable she was forced to continue eating,
“Uuuuurrrrgghh, okay, okay!” she groaned, reaching for the nearest foodstuff she could, “What next, chips?”
Whatever hormones in her bloodstream that stretched her skin way beyond its normal capacity had clearly also worked upon her stomach and she devoured bag after bag of chips, pretzels, nachos and crackers. Urged on by her discontented babies, Amy ate and ate until she was too stuffed to even move,
“Uuunnnggghh,” she moaned weakly as midnight approached in the cold kitchen. Thin, spidery veins coursed just below the surface of the stretched skin scarcely encircling her overinflated gut, as her massed cargo was pushed outwards by her mammoth meal,
“I’m so fuuuuull, I can’t even move!” a replete Amy told her still-kicking babies as she sprawled on the seat, vast and immobile, “I’m... stuffed... to the gills... *URRRP-UUUUURRRRPP!*... please don’t make me eat anymore,”
A contented smile gradually spread across her face as the children calmed down little by little, as if they understood their mother was full to the brim and they wouldn’t be getting any further food tonight. They seemingly settled down to sleep and an exhausted Amy did the same.

*****

Awakening still sat in her freezing kitchen at first light the following morning, Amy sleepily managed to heave herself to bed and dozed until early afternoon. Dark veins and vivid stretchmarks spidering out across her marbled skin, Amy stirred herself to another day of arduous movement and incessant growth rather than lay awaiting the next barrage of kicks she anticipated to come from within at any moment,
“Why me?” she asked herself aloud, “What happened that night that caused this?”
The gigantic preggo was so incredibly vast and ponderously weighty that she could barely move; Amy gradually hauled her enormously inflated bulk out of bed with cumbersome difficulty. Her almost intolerably rotund mass bore down upon her as she craned herself achingly to standing, where her belly and boobs hung from her waifish frame like over-ripe fruit from the vine, the slightest touch threatening to burst them out of their leaden skin,
“Ooofffff!” Amy wheezed as she began to waddle through her apartment, feeling as big as a house, “And what the hell am I gonna do about it?”
Amy’s spherical belly juddered within the propped-open kitchen doorframe as she offered it up to the tiny-seeming gap that it could barely fit through. When she was sure of ingress, Amy pressed forward as quickly as possible, and lurched hurriedly over to the sofa which she slowly sat on. The pitiable furniture creaked in begrudgingly accepting her immensely pregnant weight and Amy groaned as her load transferred from her cramping legs to the squashed sofa,
‘I really don’t think people are meant to be this big... maybe I’ve made a mistake in not going to a doctor,’ she mulled in her mind as her breathing returned steadily to normal. It was far too late for second thoughts however. Notwithstanding the fact that Amy could now only just fit her teeming belly through a doorway, there was no way she could have made it downstairs, never mind waddle the several blocks to the nearest medical center,
“Unnff!” Amy grunted as milk blurted from her teats. She reached for a towel placed near her seat and gingerly patted her achingly stretched midriff skin dry where she felt the unmistakable dribble of her boobs expressing surplus milk. She winced as even the soft cotton felt like sandpaper to her agonisingly taut skin to mop up the warm milk which felt like boiling acid on her overloaded belly. Amy sat on the settee, struggling to see the TV over her insanely pumped up boobs propped up to past her chin level by her cavernous baby bump. Her breasts now leaked their liquid contents regularly, adding to Amy’s sensation that her body was so incredibly full it could burst at any moment. Every now and then, Amy felt the pang of her skin pulling tight as her nipples stiffened, then would sometimes moisten with a trickle of milk, at others erupt with a surging stream of the stuff. As her pregnancy progressed, her body was producing more and more nourishment for her future babies, until today when she was sure her engorged udders couldn’t contain their load for much longer. She grimaced with discomfort as no sooner had her boobs convulsed and the latest expulsion ceased than her tits were brimming with milk once more,
‘I could always call 911,’ she considered, calming into her own thoughts again. In fact she had considered it plenty of times, going so far as to reach out for the phone two days ago when a particularly vicious kick near her belly’s front felt sure to rip a hole in her. But something always stopped her; she could never quite bring herself to dial, and subconsciously she knew she never would. By and by, the tired Amy was lulled to sleep by the murmuring of the television and her own unanswerable questions turning around in her mind. She had no idea how long she slept for, but her rest was disturbed by the dreaded sensation of a growth spurt building. As Amy awoke, a stinging pain from the distant front of her monumental gut abruptly overtook her; the less familiar but no less frightening feeling of new stretchmarks peeling across her skin,
“Agh!” she screamed as it flashed across the face of her belly. It was followed by another. And another, and another,
“Aaagh! Agh, no! Stop it!” Amy screeched, tears welling in her eyes as her belly looked like a cracking windowpane. The sting of each crimson stretchmark felt like a rip in her intolerably tight skin as her waistline inched ever wider whilst her growing brood burbled within,
“Oooohh no bigger, please no bigger! I can’t hold on to this belly!” she wailed, beginning to panic, “It’s too much for me, I’m not stretchy enough!”
Almost as if on command, her belly’s growth spurt shuddered to a halt and Amy was left tautened and wide-eyed, almost without room to draw breath in her utterly full body. She remained on the couch all night, eyes as wide as dinner plates, not daring to move for hours. Frozen in the same position, even her babies hadn’t budged an inch since their mother last had. Gradually the sun sank from view, then below the horizon, with a blue twilight descending upon Amy’s apartment. Convinced that her belly would burst open the instant she moved, the terrified teen felt stuffed to her gunnels, as if there was literally not a spare millimeter of skin covering her expanded body. Eventually she fell into a fretful slumber, with she awoke from at the crack of dawn to find herself still in one piece. Her relaxed limbs had fallen to her sides in sleep, leaving her overstretched belly unruptured and with time to take the strain of her swollen womb. Looking about her naked form, Amy thought she could distinguish a few additional stretchmarks, but otherwise the fibers of her skin seemed to be accommodating her giant bump as well as could be expected.

*****

Finally she stood. Today wasn’t the day. She had managed to get out of bed for the twenty-ninth time since falling pregnant on her fourth attempt that morning. It seemed she would be overwhelmed by the immense weight of her cargo this time, yet somehow she had managed to struggle upright. But she gasped at how gigantic she had become as she looked downwards. Her tummy reached her ankles, but didn’t hang heavily, instead bulging outwards from under her boobs in a vast convex, painfully bubble-like and astoundingly huge. It was made to look all the more similar to a balloon by her terrifyingly sheer skin, which seemed to betray every single inner movement with its wincing thinness. Amy’s boobs themselves looked as she wished her belly would; thick, plump and overfed, they were vast and engorged, positively groaning with milk stored in her sturdy mammaries. Amy summoned up the strength and the courage to move her insanely burdened right hip forwards to walk, her skin squeaking in response as she began to move. Her boobs tumbled against one another, sending a spurt of milk spraying creamily from her left teat. Amy didn’t have time to clean up. She had decided she would sit in the kitchen, where she would have access to sustenance even if she was too big to get up again, which seemed prone to happen at any moment. Time was of the essence, she couldn’t support her own weight for very long. Somehow fitting through her bedroom door and waddling towards the kitchen, the overfull preggo was suddenly seized with activity from within her. Amy stopped and leant against the wall grimacing; her skin looked liable to give way at any moment, barely a square inch of it not occupied with a stretchmark, pockmark, bruise or contusion,
“Ooohhhh! Look what you’re doing to mommy’s belly!” Amy groaned as her belly skin positively shuddered with pressure and more blood vessels broke on its wounded, reddened surface. Lately Amy’s babies had been testing the limits of their confines until their mother’s midriff skin was bobbled and cratered with marks that had been inflicted from within and then stretched out mercilessly. Her passengers barged against each other and struck against the living walls of their dwelling, thumping lumps and bumps into Amy’s swollen gut as she placed her arms across her belly in an attempt to quell their broiling activity,
“Nnnngh! Mommy really is full with all of you today,” she began to protest, breaking off as her spine twinged with tenderness and she reached for the small of her back. Although stopped in her tracks by the discomfort of her babies’ movement, somehow she was hanging on to the incredibly bloated belly popping out from her painfully slender frame,
“I really can’t... carry you when you’re acting like this,” Amy renewed her appeal, her belly still heaving with motion as she stood breathing heavily, one hand nursing her burdened back whilst the other hung onto the wall for support. She squeezed her eyes shut against the mounting discomfort, opening them briefly to be greeted with the sight of the vividly dark line tracing down the centre of her bump like a seam. Unseen but keenly felt to her meanwhile, another stretchmark peeled across her left flank to join those residing where her hips bore her colossal belly,
“Ohhh! Mommy really is so very big and very tired, can you please just let me sit down and rest?” she begged her brood, who now seemed to calm slightly, as if satisfied that they had caused enough damage for the time being. Amy gradually stood up straight as her babies’ activity lessened to a more manageable magnitude to view her massive but increasingly tattered belly. Newly-formed bumps and bruises crowded the surface over her taut skin as her stinging stretchmarks flared starkly red against her stretched-pale flesh. Now, with only Amy’s groaningly vast belly threatening to tear apart her agonisingly petit frame and not her increasingly unruly cargo, she decided to return to the bedroom, heaving her hulking belly away with her tummy skin struggling to withstand the massive weight. Moments after sitting on the mattress, her belly was once more a seething mass of baby kicks distorting her orb-like tummy to a series of lumps. As she lay down on top of the sheets her belly pulsated as she hung grimly onto it and realised her body was moving beyond her control. Her ever-strengthening passengers squirmed within her and shook Amy violently as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block the frightening pain of pressure building up around her inaccessibly distant navel. Her swollen gut churned with the mercilessly energetic children’s activity, the seams of her skin unbearably tight as her mighty belly threatened to tear apart her petite frame,
“Agh! Agh! Aaaggh!” Amy grunted as hot streams of milk were impelled from her brimming tits by her uncontrollable convulsions, her udders being squeezed by the contracting skin they felt as if they longed to pop free of. Stretched to within an inch of her life, she realised she could no longer fight with her monster belly; her babies were far too developed to restrain physically any more. Amy hoped they would understand as she entreated,
“Ohhhh children, you’re gonna pop me! My belly feels like it’s about to unzip! My skin can’t take it, it’s gonna peel right off me!”
If anything this only seemed to inspire greater discord as Amy was contorted beyond control, her body wrenched backwards,
“Aaaaaagh! Oh please my little ones! Oh you’re so strong, you’re gonna snap me in half!” she shrieked, kicking the sheets from her bed in desperately trying to straighten her back. The flurry of movement within her continued unabated despite her protests, the turmoil distending her belly in all directions, which for several horrifying seconds failed to look even remotely round anymore,
“Gggaaaaahh! Please!” she begged, her stretchmarks throbbing painfully and her spine still almost doubled over backwards to a near-impossible angle, “You’re hurting mommy! Y-you’re really hurting her!”
This seemed to settle her unruly cargo slightly, with the babies’ movement subsiding enough for Amy to at least bend herself into a more natural position, even though her skin still broiled with activity,
“Ooooh that’s it! Shh-shh-shhhhh!” she encouraged through gritted teeth, patting her delicate tummy skin as much as she dared and gently rubbing its raw, pockmarked surface.

*****

Managing to grab a few hours’ sleep, Amy woke up in late afternoon that same day and found herself entirely immobile,
“Nnnnnnnngghhh! Oh God!” Amy strained, “I can’t move! I’m too heavy!”
There was only one person she felt could help; Steve. She fumbled for her cellphone on the nightstand just within arms’ reach and navigated to the number she had saved. He answered after a couple of rings,
“Oh hey delivery boy!” she chirped as sweetly as possible. Amy had no idea why she was acting so coy at a time like this,
“Uhm, Amy? Hey, what’s up?” came the uncertain reply to the obviously unfamiliar number,
“Oh not much, just... Uuuugghh! ...too fat to get up... you couldn’t... be a doll and... Nnngh! ...come over, could ya?”
“Y-yeah, sure... you... need some help?” the man stammered,
“Ah... you could say that,” Amy conceded, recognising with a glance at her belly that she had no idea what she needed,
“Okay... well, I’ll be over as soon as possible,” said Steve. They exchanged goodbyes and hung up,
“Ngh! I think I’m ripe!” a tearful Amy whimpered, addressing Steve in her imagination, her laden-bellied appearance giving the impression of an over-ripe plum, juicy insides ready to split open and burst through straining skin. But just then an unfamiliar sensation overcame her giant bump, as if just a little slack had been afforded her creaking midriff. Confused, Amy was then aware of warmth on the inside of her leg. Momentary relief was replaced with the shock that her waters had just broken. Amy’s heart raced; the babies had grown so fast and she’d had so much to deal with, she had barely given a thought to how they would get out of her. Now, it seemed they had chosen the natural way, which filled Amy full of dread; she was about to go into full-blown labor, and there was no way she could give birth to the sheer amount of children inside her. And yet, even with the gush of fluid slowing to a warm trickle making its way down the inside of her naked thighs, Amy shivered. Something wasn’t quite right. In her mind she felt almost fooled, as if she were just discovering the upshot of a particularly cruel practical joke. The sudden release of pressure had emptied the young girl slightly and she had lost perhaps a days’ girth in the process, but she now felt more in peril than ever. Without the babies’ soothing bath of amniotic fluid absorbing the force of their movement, Amy could sense their true form. And what she felt chilled her blood. Not the chubby softness of a newborn. Not even human. She could feel talons. The babies were thin, coarse and spindly, with unexpected ridges and abrupt, uncanny angles all over them. And now they stirred, with raking, grinding movements,
“Aaaghhhhh!” she shuddered, immediately redialling Steve’s number. She could hear the background noise of a car engine as Steve answered,
“Amy? Yeah, Amy?” he crackled into her ear, clearly fumbling with the phone whilst driving,
“Steve! Steve, where are you?”
“Close! I’m nearly there!”
“Steve I’m gonna pop!” Amy shrieked, “There’s no more room in me!”
“Amy just... just hold on, I’ll be like, five more minutes!”
“I don’t think there’s enough skin... to go around,” she gasped, her bulging eyes trained on the tortured seam running vertically down the middle of her belly, “Gah!”
A frighteningly severe contraction jolted the phone from her hand. It bounced on the bedsheets and disappeared down the side of the bed out of arms’ reach. She could just hear Steve’s tinny voice buzzing from the handset,
‘Five minutes... He’ll be here in five minutes,’ she told herself, ‘...Then what?’
“Stretch, belly, streeeeetch! Please! Oh pleeeeease!” a crazed Amy yelled. There was nothing she could do to combat this new threat however; she may have withstood the sheer size of her pregnancy, but now the babies were being born. An irresistibly sharp prong slashed within her belly, and Amy knew she was being torn apart,
“PLEASE!” she screamed, “Have mercy!”
Then her ears rang with the snap of her belly skin. The shattering of glass. The splintering whump of metal and wood. She lost consciousness.

*****

Epilogue:
The creatures emerged simultaneously, having sown their seeds in a million women simultaneously. They had watched us for years, for millennia, coveting our planet. Our climate. Our resources. They had profiled our population. They had watched our society grow insular and fearful, and knew exactly which women to pick. Exactly how they would react. How their secret would be kept until it was far too late. It was the beginning of the end. The sky darkened with the wings of their offspring, and blackened with the arrival of their craft. There was no time to react, no time to counterattack. We were already beaten. We had been infiltrated, our defences annulled. Our position compromised. Humankind crumbled, consumed by these extraterrestrial locusts. They didn’t fight us, they didn’t need to. They simply edged us from control. And we are edged to the brink.

Some tell tales of a dark-haired American woman, a warrior who knows more of the hellish swarm than any other human left alive. They say her stomach is an armor-like shield of impenetrable scar tissue. But these are just stories, told by the campfires of humans in deserts avoiding the citadels of their conquerors. Nothing more than fanciful stories.