The Beloa - By Irish Bard (~BBW, ~XWG, Aliens)

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IrishBard

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~BBW, ~XWG, Aliens - A symbiotic alien, far from home, finds a new partner.

The Beloa
By Irish Bard

(back to good old xwg)

Chapter 1

The Beloa waited, up in the earthling construction called a tree, waiting for something. It felt naked without its armor, its home, its life support. But it needed another body, it was dying, and it needed the other half of the mind and the body for it to survive.

The cold weather was beginning to freeze its tiny body up, and if it didn't find someone to fuse with, then its ship will be turned against others of its kind by the humans. It had studied them enough to know they were a barbarian people, well intentioned, but crude and unsophisticated...

And here comes one now: She was not a perfect host, young, tall, and strong; but far, far, far too small. The Beloa knew that to operate the armor, she needed to be bigger- much bigger. Carefully, it inched its way around on the tree, the timing had to be perfect, and it had to be done now. Dropping down, the Beloa sent a prayer to its gods, hoping that its judgment was right.

Natasha Matriski felt the back of her head. Something squishy had landed on it. Looking around, she saw a few crows flying off into the distance. Great, she thought, that’s what happens if I don’t bring a hat. She walked on to the village she’d be meeting her parents in- the nearby village of Holsoki. A nice winter vacation in the Urals, they'd said. She was cold, annoyed and had just had something squishy fall on top of her.

The village came into sight, rustic and ancient, with only one pub. She squinted into the distance; she could just make out her parents at the door of their place, smiling and waving. Suddenly, she felt ravenous, hungry beyond all memory.

What she couldn't see, however, was the back of her head, slowly started to turn blue.

Continued in post #3.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 2

"Natasha, how are you feeling?" Her mother looked concerned.

"Well, a little worse for wear, mother, why?"

"Well...you father and I thought, how could we treat our special little girl, apart from inviting her out to our latest purchase and treating her to whatever she wants?"

"Great, mum," Natasha was being a little sarcastic, of course, she didn't need all the fattening traditional food, not if she wanted to look nothing like her parents. Both huge, she had to say, and she loved them for it, but she didn't like the fact that both of them were the size of elephants and actively enjoyed it. Her parents where living the high life, it was time for them to be...

Something inside her was craving food; it was as if she was carrying a ravenous Pac-man inside her. She needed to eat, otherwise, she might die...that kind of feeling.

"Great," her mum said, inviting her in. Whilst her parents swept her in, the blue began to spread further.

Natasha ate like a woman possessed (which she probably was), gulping down the thick stews, the great breads, the rich cheeses, the juicy steaks, as well as all manner of additional side dishes. Her mother was ecstatic!

"Oh look, Oscar, our daughter's finally come to love her food."

Her father nodded, somewhat sternly. "Do they even feed you at that university?" he asked.

"Hmp? Yeah, yeah, they do!"

"And you're not...eating for two?"

"Oh good lord, no, you've taught me well, papa," she exclaimed.

"Hmm..." her father said, circling around her. "By the way... I should warn you, you're getting awfully big."

"What?"

"Well, when you came in, you were a waif of a girl, but now...well, still a waif compared to us, but now a bit, podgy?" Her father sounded a bit embarrassed for such directness.

"What?!" Mid-way through her ninth bowl of vegetable stew, Natasha looked down. Her belly was huge and distended, as though she had just swallowed a cow whole, and she noticed something was crawling around the edge. "What the-- is that... blue?"

"What, dear?" Her mother came back from the kitchen.

"What's happening to me?!" Natasha sprang up, dislodging everything from the table. Shaking like a leaf, Natasha looked at her parents. "I'm a freak!"

"No, dear, look, it's probably just..." her mother started to say.

"Don't lie to me! Don't say it's going to be all right! This can't be happening and...Oh god, it's spreading! What's happening to me?" Natasha shrieked.

"Look, Nat, just have a sit down..." Her mother tried again.

Natasha ran, bursting out of the door, in floods of tears. She didn't need anyone to see her like this, some kind of blue freak. She ran for almost two miles before it occurred to her that one, she was hopelessly lost, two, she was warm in subzero temperatures despite only dressed in a t-shirt and skirt, and three, she'd just ran two miles.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 3

Panting and running, Natasha found herself truly lost in the woods, with no idea where she was. All she hoped was that there wasn't a serial killer running around these woods, like she had seen before in movies. She continued to walk, not knowing where she was going, apart from the pure and simple thought of "This seems like a good way to go."

She looked over her blue skin. Deep, dark blue, she noticed, before looking down at her swollen belly, causing her walk to descent into a waddle as she hefted her belly around. Trying not to think of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory", she pressed on.

She began to see something through the trees, and she decided to make for it. Maybe it was another village, or a town, even. Civilization, here I come!

What greeted her made her stop in awe. A craft, up-ended and broken, stood before her; its sleek body was blackened and the round power source appeared dead. The strange symbols that flittered all along the surface glowed a dull purple, slowly growing dimmer and dimmer. The ship needed something, something to control and manage it.

Natasha walked up. She had a feeling that what had happened to her was connected, somehow, to this ship. Touching the side of this alien ship, she felt that it was still warm. Something bleeped and a door slide open.

Natasha pondered the situation. She was curious, but not stupid by far: If she went in, there might be aliens on the other side waiting to probe her, or impregnate her, or something much worse, probably ending in her death.

However, this was a huge discovery, an intact alien craft that landed on Earth! Even the thing that happened in Galaxy City was only a single alien, and examination was made difficult by it fusing to that woman so quickly.

Natasha plucked up her courage, and walked in. her heart dive bombed as the door slammed shut behind her.

"WELCOME HOME, MISTRESS," said a metallic voice.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 4

"W-w-w-welcome?" Natasha asked, her voice twinged with terror.

"YES MISTRESS" said the robotic voice. It seemed to be some of advanced computer system. "WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU."

"Now, wait a minute!" said Natasha. "If you're planning on turning me into some kind of alien experiment or breeding program, or something like that, then..."

"Getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we?"

"Why did your voice suddenly change?"

"We analyzed your language and now find a medium we can both speak in. the language you speak is Russian, a Cyrillic language found in the north of Asia in..."

"I know the history of my own damn language, I study..." Natasha stopped short, looking down at her blue, swollen form, "Was studying it at university, and..."

"We are not going to perform any experimentation on you or situate you for breeding purposes," the computer voice cut in. "We might, under different circumstances. However, currently, you are the only one with Beloa genetic structure in light years, so you are our master."

"What? What do you...oh, that's why I'm huge and blue! I've been turning into an alien hybrid, well isn't that wonderful!" Natasha's sarcasm cut through the air like an icy arrow.

"Blue yes, but you have yet to fulfill the necessary requirements to become truly versed in the technology required for use of the ships' full facilities."

"What...What are you doing, get off me, put me down!" she exclaimed as thousands of tiny service drones picked Natasha up and carried her deeper into the bowels of the ship.

Advanced technology and gadgetry whizzed past her, stuff that would make the IPod generation scratch their heads in amazement. Finally, the machines stopped in front of a podium. An enormous, bizarre contraption sat on top of the podium.

It was some kind of strange, three pronged seat-like formation with a rotating base on top of a tripod of three extendable legs. Natasha went to touch it, and a light appeared in mid air.

"This is your armor," the computer intoned. "It requires body heat to function. The standard Beloa typically gives out the body heat enough to pilot the armor with ease. You, however, only produce a fraction of that amount."

"I know where this is going," Natasha said, "I need to pilot that thing, but I don't generate enough body heat, yet. So, if I don't generate enough body heat now, as I am, then if there was more of me... you are fattening me up to move around in that contraption, aren't you!"

"If you wish to decline," the computer said, "then we are happy to oblige." An incredibly large and rather nasty looking weapon dropped down from the ceiling and pointed at Natasha.

"Ah..." Natasha said, looking around, finding no escape. "Well, bring on the food, I guess..."
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 5

Natasha smiled to herself; she was beginning to like this lifestyle more than she should. She put her hands on her belly and gave it a rub, smiling as she felt her hands kneed through her flesh with almost erotic love. She really shouldn't be enjoying this, she was sitting naked, enjoying cake that was created, to her specification, inside a machine, whilst thousands of tiny robots made sure that she was as comfortable as possible whilst she sat and absorbed knowledge and calories like a sponge.

The computer program had made sure that she was educated in how to pilot "the armor" before using it. Whilst first it seemed very complex, she found it was quite easy to learn when they finally had a test module sorted out.

She particularly liked... what were they called, the Solid Holograms, which functioned as the surface for the armor's pilot seat, as well as the shield surrounding it, it was fun and also very warm. She also was enjoying the reproducing unit, a device that produced anything she needed just by her asking for it. At the moment, it was mainly concerned with food, as Natasha had let her inner glutton out.

If only her friends at university could see her now.

Fat was the wrong word, enormous was a more fitting one. Still not big enough to pilot "the armor" but certainly very, very obese by Earth standards.

In little over a week of munching down everything (from cakes to cheeses to caviar to crabs), her face had become round and soft, with a large double chin. Her arms had become flabby, wobbling every time she moved; even her fingers and toes were getting pudgy. Her boobs were now enormous, her nipples constantly hard from a combination of cold and mild eroticism. Her crowning feature, her belly, splayed out for all to see, titanic in its proportion, even splitting into a double belly. Her arse would now get stuck in a large chair and cushioned her when she sat down, only helped by wide hips. Her thighs were thicker than most tree-trunks, cellulite forming on the inside, with calves and cankles that would makes most women shudder.

She smiled, she was beginning to enjoy this life, every time she walked around, she felt herself jiggle and laughing to herself, as well as the simple act of kneading the flab made herself feel so good.

However, she thought, all good things must come to an end. It was getting more difficult to walk around each day; a walk that would normally be a breeze was becoming more and more strenuous. Soon, she thought, she would reach the stage when she would simply be a ball of fat with a brain, unable to move for anything.

"Immobility is not the end," the machine said. Natasha now knew that the machine feeding information into her brain was a two-way process.

"Really?" she asked, with no real hope.

"Yes, once you are no longer able to move, we will put you into the armor and you can perform your functions from there."

"But, I'm not generating enough heat to..."

"We have back up supplies of thermo-energy to power it enough. It will be acting at 25% of its full capacity, but, 25% well be enough."

"And once I get big enough?"

"Then you will walk. Towering over the heads of others, to look down upon the world."

Natasha smiled. Maybe it wasn't such the game over that she had thought.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 6

Natasha finally felt herself in the armor.

Craning her neck, she saw that it still towered around her, obviously intending for much more room. Sighing with a combination of excitement and tiredness, she thought about the prospect of getting bigger.

It would be easier now she could no longer walk more than 7 feet without asking for a pause. The solid hologram seat felt warm against her enormous buttocks, each inch feeling warm and comfortable. Her flabby arms rested on solid hologram pads, with a strange circular device where she placed her hands.

"The legs are controlled by your thoughts," the computer intoned as Natasha looked down at the enormous metal legs.

More like tentacles than legs, she thought, with three sharp claws at the end, more than perfect to manipulate and crush. It was a war-machine, she remembered, much more than something used in peaceful times.

Around her head were ten little mechanical arms, brushing her hair, feeding her; they moved around her head like a halo of spider legs. Her feet, large and fatty, were placed slightly below her solid hologram belly porch. She placed them on the little pedestals mounted there, meant to be controlling the height at which the "carriage" floated. Her hands controlled the position of the weapons.

"Oh well, might as well test it out," Natasha muttered. She concentrated hard.

Slowly, painfully, one of the legs slowly raised itself up. Amazed, Natasha lost concentration and it crashed to the ground. She tried again, the leg raised itself again, before shooting out and crashing into some dead computers.

"I think I'm going to need some practice," Natasha said sheepishly.

"Your progress is fast compared to most," the computer replied. Natasha privately wondered whether that was meant to be a compliment or not.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 7

The earth trembled as Natasha stomped about the landscape in her armor. Metal claws crushed snow, branches and roots; lasers blasted away at trees, turning them to ash. The mighty war machine marched around the landscape like a one soldier army, controlled by the mighty woman at the helm.

Natasha knew she was now huge. She couldn't see the nipples on her enormous breasts, lying over her colossal belly that rested on the solid-hologram porch like some kind of sleeping flesh-beast. Her butt formed and positioned into a soft cushion, spreading out and causing her to perch on it, whilst her hips formed a cradle around her body. All around her deep blue skin, thick purple lines were painted on like some kind of war paint- but it was not paint.

Perched on the enormous tripod, with the ten spiderlike arms grooming her head and feeding her cake, as well as the thousands of little robot scarabs crawling all over her making her comfortable, Natasha was a monster, made worse by her echoing, booming laugh.

"Alright, miss, that's quite enough."

Natasha stopped, her cockpit turning round to see the offending speaker. She saw an enormous, 20-foot tall woman standing there, with green skin and a costume made out of some kind of leaves. The small translation device in the armor allowed for the English to be translated, but she still picked up the mid-American accent. Beside her stood two equally large women; one was massively pear shaped, and dressed conservatively but strangely in indigo. The other was incredibly buxom, and dressed only in a low-cut red dress.

"And you are?" she asked.

"My name is Trish Mavalum, and with me are Rosie Blushfire, and Ingrid Ipswich." She pointed at the other two ladies in turn.

"Here to stop me, Yanks?" Natasha asked acidly, arming her cannons.

"Hey, we take offense at that," replied Rosie, smiling. "Limeys work in international affairs as well, Miss Matriski! No, we're here to recruit you."

"What?" Natasha blinked.

"We're here as part of a United Nations commission into the abnormal," Ingrid continued, straight-faced. "Spellcasting, Superterrestrial, and Biological Bureau of the World. S.S.B.B.W for short. We want you to join as part of the superterrestrial department."

"And what do I get?" Natasha asked darkly. "What's to stop me from conquering the world?"

"Apart from money, a high-flying career as an international agent, and so-on and so forth?" Trish cocked her head.

"Trish, you forgot the sex." Rosie elbowed the other woman.

"What? Oh, yeah, and lots of sex... What else…" Trish trailed off.

"A chance to finish your university degree," Ingrid put in. "You've always wanted to go to university, to study, to learn. We can provide a chance for you to do that. And before you ask, we will also try and find a cure for what has happened to you."

"I might join," muttered Natasha, just to sound irritable. She knew she would join. After all, a chance to finish her degree and the money sounded nice, not to mention the sex. Maybe, just maybe, she would enjoy this work.
 

imogenbakerbell

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Kind of silly, but fun to read :) I like the phrase "sleeping flesh beast" :D Will there be any more to this story?
 

IrishBard

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probably not in the near future. Still working on a few different ideas for other stories, but glad you like it so much.
 

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