Warning: This bundle of letters are composed in a way that may seem provocative to many people. It contains mainly violence, the supernatural, and rapid pregnancy growth. Aw hell, why am I saying this? If you got hold of this, it's probably caused by your own free will. Read on!

The Reproducticon
by Grav_id
How novel, she thought, while reading the title. She had seen the book through a display window belonging to an old bookstore, and being fond of old books she instantly had to buy it, even if the contents were a bit.... out of the ordinary. "Reproducticon". Hmm, unusual title indeed, Lynn thought, while skimming through the contents. "Protective formulas"... "Daemon summoning". She had never believed in the supernatural, and found the book mildly amusing, clearly it was quite old, and written in a time when strange creatures and foul magic were widely believed to exist. 

Although book collecting and reading was her main hobby, the agile 23 year old brunette trained aerobics often, to keep in shape. A healthy body was important to her, and that state of mind had resulted in a flat stomach, buns of iron and slender body.

She continued to read while she walked into her kitchen, hungry as she was she wanted to make herself a couple of sandwiches to bite down on while reading. She amused herself by reading some of the so-called summoning spells. The "spells" themselves were written in a language she did not understand, but they sounded funny, like foreign rhyming. Nothing happened, and she did not expect anything to either. She sighed, and looked down at her bosom. If only magic had existed, she could have used a spell to enlarge her lemon-sized breasts, witch she always had been ashamed of. Implants were too expensive for her, and out of the question. Well, she thought, at least it made aerobics easier not having two great mounds of flesh flopping up and down.

Suddenly, while skinning an apple, she cut her index finger with the fruit knife. A shining drop of blood immediately formed, and before she could reach for a tissue, fell down and stained a page of the old book, the one she had been reading just before. She cursed silently to herself for ruining the page, and went over to a cupboard to get some tissues. When she returned to the book, she noticed something unusual.

The stain was gone. It was like the page had never been smeared in blood. Indeed, it actually looked like it had gotten cleaner, as if it had just been written. Especially the last spell she had read looked different, almost like it was getting newer by the minute, brighter and brighter. She quickly glanced at the spell description, it apparently was for summoning forth the daemon of inception, and required a young virgin as a component. Well, she jokingly thought to herself, lucky for me that I am no virgin.

She closed the book, put it on a shelf above the oven, and began to clean the kitchen table for remains of the ingredients for the two sandwiches. Just then, she noticed a weak, warm gust of wind through the kitchen, as if a draft had come in through the windows. She glanced around - all the windows were closed. And it was December, the weather was freezing cold. Nevertheless she felt the gust increasing in strength until it was like a wind blowing in her face. It was warm, almost pleasant, but where could it come from?

Then she noticed it, a mist flowing out of the now open book on the shelf, falling down to the floor like thick smoke, coiling around a kitchen-chair and continuing towards... her. Speechless, she observed it reach her feet, and sinuously snake itself up her blue jeans like a serpent. She could feel it upon her skin even as she wore pants, a moist, flowing, pulsing substance, not like normal mist at all. The wind had stilled, she noticed, as it hit her - she could not move! The mist pinned her legs to the ground even as it reached the top of her pants and oozed towards her crotch, more slowly this time, like it was searching for something in particular. It coiled itself, and slowly, very slowly, slithered through the zipper, her hands instinctively reached down to her pubic mound as she felt it move through her underwear and into her. She whimpered as it entered, and closed her eyes in denial. This was not happening!

Suddenly she felt a change happening around her, as if someone got more and more enraged , the mist suddenly got much hotter, almost searing, and for the first time she was more afraid than curious. The mist quickly withdrew, and grew fast, engulfing her body while solidifying, it whipped around her and soon was solid enough to push her off balance.

Screaming, she fell to the floor like a felled deer, her feet still being held still by the madly enraged mist. She desperately tried to crawl away to no avail, while a fat tentacle of solid mist coiled around her, squeezing hard. Suddenly, she was yanked in the air, like a fish on a hook, ready for gutting, and slammed down hard on the kitchen-table crying with pain. The pain made her body go limp, and she sprawled weakly on the table, making a last ditch attempt to get away, reach her mobile phone, anything that could get her away from that nightmare brought to life.

Despair gripped her heart as her hands were stretched out, two tendrils of smoke coiled around her legs and violently spread them apart. Another tendril flowed into her mouth as she gasped for air, causing her to gag as it liquefied and forced itself down her throat, as if someone had fastened a water hose to her face. She whipped her head back and forth, trying to shake the alien mist out of her, but it poured relentlessly on, increasing in strength as if it really enjoyed her futile resistance. Her stomach became tighter as the vapor filled her, soon she felt like she had eaten constantly all day, and still gobbled down. Seconds later, you could see her once flat stomach bulge a little, and her belt started to eat into her middle, as if her pants actually was a couple of numbers too small. She gritted her teeth as she quickly reached the point where she could take no more, felt her stomach was unable to expand further, like a balloon that was about to explode from too much pressure. She started to scream....and discovered that the mist had withdrawn, she could see the grey tentacle twisting just above her body, tracing her contours, moving over her small, pert breasts, now erect from the perverse pain she experienced, wormed over her slightly swollen, packed belly, down to...Not Again!

She howled with despair as the mist suddenly thrust itself deeply into her sex with such violence it drove her off the table and slammed her against the far wall, as if she was impaled by a solid object. Dazed, she tried to fend her attacker off with her arms, but they just passed right through it, like...air. She put both hands over her crotch, trying to block the vapor's passage, to no effect. It just flowed on through her hands and clothing into her, she could feel it penetrating deeper and deeper inside, deeper than she imagined possible. She felt its movement halt, as if it had encountered some kind of barrier inside of her, and tried to push through it. It grew and grew in strength as it gathered inside, getting hotter by the seconds. She felt like someone was building a fire inside her, and still it grew. She started to cry, begged the mist to stop while she clawed at her crotch, throwing her body against the floor. She hit the kitchen table with her head, causing a kettle full of water to topple down on her head, soaking her clothing and knocking her out cold.



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The first that hit her when she came to, was that her clothes were soaking wet. Yet she felt no cold, actually, she felt quite warm, as if she was experiencing a fever. Her stomach hurt too, as if she had eaten way too much. Then she remembered - the mist! She looked around her, her heart beating like a scared rabbit while she looked for that horrid monster witch had done such terrible things to her, but it was gone. The kitchen looked like a blizzard had razed wildly around, throwing everything into disarray, but no mist. She must have suffered from a delusion, she thought, and had a nightmare or something. That was definitely it.

She spotted the only thing looking untouched by the disaster, it lay exactly were she had left it on the shelf: the book. It was closed. Then she discovered she was sprawling around in a pool of water on the kitchen floor, and got up, using her hands as support. As she turned towards the book, she caught a glimpse of herself in the huge mirror mounted on the fridge door. Her long, dark brown hair hung in shambles over her shoulders, dripping water down on her shirt. Her bra shoved visibly through the soaked shirt, it looked a little too small, which was strange. She could feel a throbbing in her belly, and it was so tight! She put a hand to her stomach, and gasped. Her once flat stomach had a slight bulge, and it was so heavy! It felt like it was filled with water or something, she could not feel inside it. She slowly lifted her shirt to take a closer look, it clung tightly to her body because of the water, and it traced the little bulge as it slid upwards. It was almost as if the throbbing got stronger as she saw the orange sized bulge in her belly, her belt bit visibly into her flesh, some of her stomach actually hung over jeans! She could feel the tightness of it as she put both her hands on her middle, and squeezed a little. Like the skin of a balloon, she thought to herself while she stroked her little potbelly. Had she perhaps eaten more than she remembered?

Lynn rummaged around a bit after a mop and bucket, got down on her knees, and started to dry up the water spilled on the floor. The pain in her belly did not go away, however, and she started to get exhausted rather quickly. She also felt a faint, but sharp pain in her back. That was unusual for her, did she not use to be in pretty good shape? When she had finished mopping the floor, she stood up, and was immediately overwhelmed with a wave of nausea. Stumbling over to the bucket, she vomited violently while clutching her sides. God, she felt like she was throwing her guts out, and still her stomach felt tight! After a few minutes, she stopped retching and rose, shaking from the effort. What was happening to her? Lynn immediately tried to calm herself, and told herself that all this was just an aftershock from her horrifying experience, dream or delusion or whatever it was. She had to have hurt herself pretty bad falling down on the floor, she reasoned, that could explain the nausea and ache in her back. She should use her body with more caution in the future, she thought.

As she started cleaning the sink, she felt her upper arms touch the sides of her rather tender breasts more often than she had remembered she used to, and her bra had really started to bite into her back. She looked down on herself, her lovely green eyes widened as she saw her bra through the soaked shirt. They had grown! Her breasts where no longer the size of lemons and sagging, but had swollen to resemble oranges. They no longer sagged, but stood pert and pushed her nipples hard into her bra, which looked like it vainly tried to hold back an avalanche of bosom. Her shirt was really straining now, she could see the top two of her buttons where almost being pulled apart as she looked. Lynn clutched the sides of her mammaries, and just as she feared, they felt completely filled, like a couple of small water balloons. She had mixed feelings about this, had she not always wished she was bigger? But then again, she had never heard about a woman whose breast grew bigger over half an hour. Perhaps she should call a doctor after she had finished cleaning, she thought.

She felt her tummy brush against the sink as she continued cleaning, the cold from the metal seeped through her wet clothing and sent shivers through her body. Cursing herself, she considered changing clothes before calling the doctor. then it happened again! She gasped, half from the cold and half from surprise as she rubbed the spot her belly had touched the metal. Why had it felt like bare skin against metal? She did wear a shirt..... The bulge had grown, she slowly realized as she gazed down at her belly. It had distended to the size where she looked like she had quite a potbelly, or rather like as she had swallowed a watermelon. Whole. Quite a bit of bare flesh showed through a gap between her shirt and jeans, like the bladder of an old football that had too much air. Carefully, she stroked her belly, up, down, and in circles, wide-eyed and speechless. If it had been tight before, now it was hard as an over pressurized bladder, she could not even put her finger between her jeans and belly. As she stroked, a low whimper escaped her lips when she heard the faint sound of fabric tearing. Her jeans. She was....still growing?

Unsure and frightened, she backed away from the sink holding both her hands on her too-tight stomach, as if she could push it back in. These things just did not happen! Not to her! No!

As she backed away, her thighs hit a chair and she lost her balance, sprawling into the damned thing. She cried out from pain as her butt connected to the chair, sending shockwaves through her breasts and belly. As if they had just waited on the opportunity, the two uppermost buttons in her shirt snapped of, flew through the air and hit the huge mirror with a audible sound. Suddenly, quite a bit of cleavage shoved through her poor shirt.

Lynn stared into the mirror in front of her, like she was looking at someone else entirely. A complete different person than the one she had been just an hour ago. Someone wet, frightened and bloating.... Oh God, she whispered to herself, as she suddenly felt a weak thump inside her, something she had never, ever felt before. Again she felt it - thump, thump inside, inside her distended belly. There was life inside her.

I am pregnant, she slowly whispered to herself, I am with child! dumbstruck, the girl in the mirror stared back at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and touched her tummy. Just then, her belt buckle could no longer take the stress, and broke audibly, quickly followed by the buttons in her jeans. She felt her belly grow tighter by the minute, as the movement inside her slowly got stronger, more intense. As her breasts started to grow free of her bra, she saw her nipples had started to show, and both had small, white drops slowly dribbling out and down her spherical mammaries, making sure her bra stayed wet. They were leaking? slowly she touched both breasts and squeezed them gently. God! they were full! She whimpered from the pain, but could not take her hands away as she felt them steadily fill up, gaining weight.

I have to get up, she whispered to herself with a trembling voice as she watched her bellybutton slowly being pushed outwards from her tight, packed belly. She put a hand in front of her torn jeans, supporting her stomach, using her other arm to support herself as she rose. She had to have gained at least thirty pounds, and she felt every one of them as she stumbled towards the door, using the table to keep her balance. With the sound of rubber tearing, her bra gave up as she reached for the knob, her breasts spilling forth from her torn shirt, as big as grapes, and really, really hard. She felt her own milk spreading down her bulging tummy, soaking her panties and continuing down her loins. It felt really strange getting wet this way, and oddly comforting as her pants slowly got soggy and warm. As on impulse she cupped her left breast and watched her hand afterwards - it was dripping full of her own, white fluids - and tasted it with her little tongue. It's sweetness didn't really surprise her as much as the feeling of safety it gave her as she savored the taste of herself. She felt mature, warm and safe, and something else - was it joy?

Her body started trembling from the stress of breeding inhumanly fast, and her knees gave away. She let her grip on the doorknob go as she slumped down on her knees, her back to the door and freedom, her hands cradling her milky wet, rounding tummy. As her now basketball-sized belly broke the lower and last buttons on her shirt, she understood that she wasn't going anywhere soon, not with a tummy full of...babies? She was as big as any full-term pregnant woman she had ever seen, and she could still feel herself growing tighter. She winced in pain as her breasts continued filling, and fearing they would burst, she started to suck her own nipples, alternating between the two. She couldn't do anything about the pressure in her stomach though, but that was all right she thought, resting her hand atop her bulging belly. Her head started to spin from the taste of herself, Things that once were real seemed more distant, like a mist. She knew she should stop drinking, open that door and scream for help, but she dared not. Besides, her children would be born soon, she felt them kick strong and hard inside her. She was a mother, creating life was her goal she thought, as warm milk dribbled from her smiling cheek. Slowly she realized that she loved the feeling of growing and stretching with fertility, and started to caress herself. Tenderly, she massaged her curves with her own sweet milk, wetting the rest of her torn clothes as she did so. Her brown hair became sticky and moist, and clung to her face. She could hear her poor jeans tear at the seams, and touched her calves tenderly. Her hips were growing! She clearly could feel the fabric being stretched apart by her as she grew, soon she could feel tender skin poking trough it. As she fascinated watched herself in the mirror, she saw a woman that was rounding out a little, not much, but enough to warrant a good, fertile, pregnant woman.

God, she was full! Her breasts rested on top of her beach ball sized belly, and she arched her back from the mixed pain and pleasure from a growing belly that she had no more room for. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth for what had to come, then suddenly she felt a sharp pain and releasing of fluid from her sex. Finally she though, tears streaming down her face, birth!


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Strange, the mailman thought to himself. He had delivered mail to this neighborhood for many years, and prided himself for knowing a little bit about every address he visited on his route. However, there was something unusual about Wood Road 34 this time. There lived a woman there, Dunkirk, Lynn Dunkirk, he remembered. What he did not remember, was that she was married, or had any kids. When he had walked by today, there had been at least seven youngsters running around outside. Really! Everyone seemed to start their own private kindergarten these days. Actually, his own wife had talked about doing the very same thing, now that their own son and daughters had moved out. And with those thoughts the mailman proceeded onward.

 