Under Pressure
#2 of Originals
A gift for Yari Ve'Rek
The silence in the empty bedroom was shattered when the door swung open, the impact from the door being kicked open echoed by the crash of it hitting the wall. The sound was ignored as the figure stumbled in, clutching its belly as it staggered toward the bed, mumbling and hissing out curses in two languages. As its knee hit the side of the bed, the figure tumbled forward, only a quick acrobatic twist enough to save it from flopping front-first onto the covers. With more grumbling, it scooted its way toward the headboard, before flopping its head back onto the pillows with a heavy, labored sigh.
It had only been 39 days, but the last time felt like barely a month ago. The first tremor had come out of nowhere, and the half-eaten isopod downstairs would just have to wait and get cold. Damn these hormones...
Yari Ve'rek grunted loudly, a spike in the pressure making her wince slightly, and she rubbed her distended belly ruefully. Ash was nowhere to be found, Senni and Jera must've been on a date, even Sina didn't respond to her calls. And now, here she was, huffing and hissing by herself. Her hand slowly massaged at her abdomen, fingers drifting over the curve of her form, working its way down toward her lap. The sensation was not yet painful, but it was far from comfortable. The crown of her snow-white belly obscured her view, and her hand had to follow what felt right as it massaged her mound, trying to help relax the muscles deep within. The Sur'ri always preferred the aid of a partner in this step, but after living and laying for so long, she had her technique down to an art.
That did not stop one of her claws from accidentally nicking the flesh of her long, ink-black slit, sending a shudder through her hormonally-charged body and making a soft moan slip from her lips. Blushing not out of embarrassment, she commanded her body to settle and to bide its time. That would come soon.
Yari's body did not keep her waiting, and she felt the massive pressure in her belly slowly start to creep its way down, shifting out of her belly and working toward her hand. It was time, and she both closed her eyes and flattened her ears, tuning out everything that wasn't tied to the sensation. Even with her experience, this was still an ordeal...and the payoff was worth it.
Her internal muscles were stretching, shifting to try and accommodate the delivery, and Yari was hissing from the sensation. It was no secret that she enjoyed the feeling of being spread open, though more had to happen before she hit the sweet spot. To calm her body, she reached both hands between her legs, fingertips sliding up and down the long length of her slit, from the tip of her mound down nearly onto her tail. Moaning from between her fangs, she continued to play with herself more out of comfort than pleasure, as her legs were forced apart by the heaviness sliding through her pelvis. It was starting to hurt, her muscles protesting being pulled so taught. Her eyes were clenched shut and her back was tensed, and she held her lips apart as best as she could to ease the passage, push herself to her limits. She was almost there, the tip had to be visible to the room, peeking out from the sea of black. The first trickle of warm lubricant started to leave her, spilling out onto the bed and soaking her folds. She'd need all the help she could get, the pressure had become painful. It felt as if her body was being pried in half, threatening to break. A very, very slight whimper left her mouth, one she was thankful none would dare hear. She was so close, just a few more millimeters...
The sensation hit her like a stroke, her eyes going wide before rolling back into her head as her muscles gave out. Her back hit the bed with a flump and her arms went limp as the sensation washed over her. At the very peak of the process, a very specific and very powerful series of hormones had been triggered, and she could feel parts of her mind and body shutting down. First, it was the absence of pain and discomfort, her receptors simply turned off. However, what followed was a rush of intense pleasure the type of which none outside her kind would ever know. It was more than just sexual pleasure, though her belly tensed for entirely unrelated reasons as a deluge of mixed juices gushed out of her. The clenching only helped, as it helped push her cargo from her body even quicker. She no longer cared or noticed how wide her dark folds were split open, or the sheer size of the growing mass protruding from her.
A pop, and a very muffled splat, and the Sek let out a satisfied, drunken grunt. As her chest heaved, her body collapsed like a dropped doll, the product of many weeks of waiting and several minutes of trial laid between her legs, drenched in slimy, syrupy lubricant.
An egg. A single large, oval-shaped egg.
For many minutes, the Sur'ri merely laid there, lost to her bonfire of hormones. Nothing short of an attack or the triggering of her fight or flight would have broken her from this near catatonia her body had gifted her. Her eyelids were parted only slightly, not as if her eyes were pointed outward in any way. When some muscular control returned, she shifted slightly, hand trying to reach between her legs to find the egg, finding the task only slightly easier thanks to her flattened belly.
As her hand brushed her sopping, loose folds, she giggled drunkenly, face barely registering anything as she lazily clenched her hand into a fist and pressed it against her slimy folds. A tiny groan was the only evidence she felt it as she slowly sank her fist into her velvety folds, slowly plunging it into her passage. Working her arm lethargically, the room was filled with a slow, lovely squelching sound as she fisted herself, stirring her arm around in the warm cauldron of her sex, past her wrist. This did little to add to her already mind-eroding pleasure, but it did make her giggle, feeling her fur get soaked.
Eventually, though, a twinge in her belly signaled a different type of hunger, one that the pilka earlier would not have sated alone. Pulling her hand out of herself with a wet pop, she laid herself back with a dizzy groan. Closing her legs, she felt the egg nestled between her thighs, plopping against her folds. After another little coo, she closed her eyes, and let instinct take over. Knees bending and feet grasping at air, she eventually took hold of the egg, claws clacking off the hard, fully developed surface. It took some straining, her legs still shaking from the powerful pleasure still coursing through her body, but she was able to lift the dripping orb into the air, bringing it close enough to her chest that she did not even have to sit up to take it into her hands. As some of her natural lubricant dripped into her fur, she shivered, eyes lazily refocusing on the object of her pleasure.
Large for a being of their kind, certainly large enough to justify the swell and pressure, her egg was nearly the size of that of an ostrich, though perhaps closer to a football? Still warm to the touch, catching the light with its wet sheen, she almost wanted to pause and admire it, but her belly rumbled again. It had always been such a strain on their kind, such an expenditure of resources back in the days of survival on the barren wasteland of their former home. Yet even now, in the days of plenty, the tradition endured. There was only one way to reclaim the loss.
Flicking her slender tongue over her lips, Yari opened her mouth wide. When it reached its peak, she only widened it further, unhinging her jaw as she brought the egg closer. Some of the slimy lubricant dripped onto her tongue, the sweet taste pleasing even in familiarity, and she placed the treat between her jaws, caged in by her needle-sharp fangs. With cheeks bulging and air hissing from her nostrils, this was her last ordeal of the process. Closing her eyes, she lifted her head, tensed her muscles one last time, and swallowed.
Had she not still been drunk from the laying, this might have been painful, but the massive lump slid easily into her stretchy throat, her jaw reconstructing as it passed her gullet. Sighing thickly, she took a moment to lay there and recollect her addled mind, throat cradling her egg just above her clavicle. Her powerful muscles rippled around it and, with one last little clench, shattered the egg within her. Running her claws lazily over the deflating bulge below her chin, she closed her eyes as she let the fluid slide easily down her throat, refilling her belly with the warmth that had left her. Another little gulp shattered the shell even further, the shell thankfully closer to a malleable plastic than the calcium carbonate shells of this planet, and the accumulated minerals were washed down easily with the rest of the egg.
Finally, with her throat cleared and belly full, Yari let out a cavernous sigh, before letting her cheek flop against the pillow dreamily. She was a mess, a puddle of slimy fluid formed between her matted thighs, splattered all over the ruined comforter. The Sur'ri had no idea whose room this even was. Knowing her, she wouldn't have cared even if she wasn't still egg drunk. Her friends knew the routine, some even relished it.
In 40 days' time, this would all happen over again. Hopefully next time she would have the benefit of an assistant...or an audience.