O’vix, the Overfilled
by Miss Mouse
This story was inspired by the artwork and characters of HimitsuDragon, although this is my interpretation of his setting and doesn’t necessarily reflect his views or ideas.
The idea is that when Demons get too pregnant and pop, they burn up and respawn in a new body. It’s harmless, but one young Demon is very into it. So there’s bursting, but no gore or fear or graphic detail. Y’all skip out if y’all don’t want that.
O’vix knew what she was doing. She always did. She knew her limits and what she should do, but more than anything she knew what she wanted to do.
And for a young Demoness, what could be more in her nature than to be self-serving?
O’vix strode towards the holding cells like she always did, her steps quick, an eager gleam in her fiery-orange eyes. The anticipation was agony; her needs consumed her, occupying her every thought. There was only one solution, and it was one she was well acquainted with.
“Look, girls, if it isn’t little Viz.”
Hera stood with her two cronies, Sa’vri and Eysh, blocking the gateway to the cells. Sa’Vri and Eysh tittered as Vix approached, swishing their long tails in excitement.
“I thought her name was Oviz?” Eysh was known to be an airhead.
To repay her underling’s insubordination, Hera grabbed one of her cow-like horns and jerked her head down beside her own. Hera was short—only a little taller than O’vix—but she was top-dog around the holding cells. A real queen when it came to breeding, and her outrageous looks made her popular with her fellow Demonnesses.
“DON’T SECOND-GUESS ME, YOU IMP.” Her voice thundered into the bovine Demon’s long ear, causing her to reel on her feet, stunned for a few moments.
Sa’vri looked on anxiously.
Hera was a bully, but everyone knew she was better than them (and anyone who didn’t got put in her place). She’d been dealing with the beasts for centuries longer than anyone else, choosing to stick around rather than move on. Occasionally, she’d leave for a time to toy with other prey—Humans, Goristro, Yochlol… sometimes even more mundane fair like Kelpies and slimes—only to return with a huge pregnancy to show off to her adoring/subjugated fans.
Now she strutted towards Vix with a predatory look, her lips curling in a vicious smile and revealing her sharp fangs. As she walked, her prominent hips swayed seductively, her tail flicking side-to-side as a counterbalance. Hera stroked her fingers up the length of her body, tracing the curves of her narrow waist and rising to lift her huge, heavy breasts up like two ripe melons.
Her forked tongue lolled out of her mouth, coiling around one nipple as she held it near her face. She let them drop, causing them to wobble hypnotically before settling in place. Hera was now right in front of O’vix, and she draped her arms over the Demoness’ shoulders, running her fingers through her cloud of hair, up her curling, caprine horns, pressing her curvaceous body against Vix’s petite one.
“What’s the matter?” She hissed seductively, her slit pupils slowly dilating. “Cat got your tongue?”
O’vix only stared back in cold annoyance, ignoring the warm softness of Hera’s breasts. She kept her eyes on the pale curls of her hair and the four horns which rose, spiraling, from her head, not wanting to give Hera the satisfaction of eye-contact.
Hera sighed and turned away, her hand moving across O’vix’s cheek in a faux slap. Even walking away her hips rolled and turned intriguingly.
“When are you going to grow up, Viz?” she said derisively. “Do you want to look like a kid forever? If you don’t carry to term, you don’t get to enjoy the rewards.” Having rejoined her clique, she turned suddenly on her heels and once more displayed her copious assets. “A body like yours is a sign of failure, honey. If you wanna make anything of yourself, you better learn how to be a Demon.”
Hera snapped her fingers and started walking away, Sa’Vri and Eysh hot on her heels. As if to punctuate her departure, she turned just enough to blow a kiss back at Vix, before continuing on with an uproarious laugh.
O’vix hurried through the halls of the Cells, working her way down to the lower levels. The encounter with Hera had been an excruciating delay, but she hardly registered anything the woman had said. What did she care what the others thought about her, if they couldn’t even remember her name? Vix didn’t want their praise or admiration.
Vix only wanted one thing.
“Not so fast, little lady.” One of the handlers stuck an arm out to block the path.
“Out of my way.” Vix tried to shove past the woman, but was little match for the handler’s size. She thought she might recognize her, but Vix rarely bothered to learn people’s names.
“Nope. You’re on probation, O’vix.”
“Probation?!” she shouted in indignation. “That’s crap!”
“I don’t make the calls, Vi.” This guard definitely looked familiar. She was tall and kind of slender, with gazelle horns and silver eyes. Her voice was almost caring. “I got word from the higher-ups that until you can behave yourself and prove you can be responsible, you’re only allowed the smaller ones.”
Vix was thwarted. She couldn’t openly go against the guard—in terms of strength she was still at the bottom of the ladder, since she never trained herself—she needed time to plan some sort of subversion, but taking time to think was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
The handler put a gentle arm around her shoulder and led her back the way she’d come.
“Here we go, why don’t you try this one and afterwards I’ll tell my superiors how good you did. A little time and effort and you’ll be back in their good graces,” she said as she unlocked the door. “Apply yourself and play nice with others, and you’ll get along great.”
O’vix was pushed gently into the cell and the door shut behind her.
The room was square-shaped and not very big, completely unfurnished except for a few alcoves in the wall which held lotions, stimulants, and other substances a Demoness might want for her time with the beasts. She never used any of these.
The middle of the floor was slightly depressed, forming a wide, shallow bowl in which curled an amorphous, semi-transparent creature, lit by the cold-fire lamp hanging from the center of the ceiling.
“Let’s get this over with,” she sighed.
O’vix stepped down into the bowl and walked over to the lump, giving it a little kick to rouse it. The thing was pitifully small, only about twice her mass, she guessed.
“Come on, get up. Come on!” she stepped on in it rudely, and the beast immediately sprouted a number of tentacles to wrap around her leg. “That’s more like it.”
It straightened up, its vague and uncertain anatomy visible through its translucent flesh. These things weren’t as soft and gooey as one would expect just by looking at them, but Vix had dealt with more than her fair share of them.
The creature grabbed her arm along with her leg and pulled enough to knock her off balance. She came to rest lying on her side, propped up on one arm with her arm and leg pulled up, more tendrils wrapping around her other leg and beginning to creep along her thighs.
O’vix regarded this with a hungry grin, her eyes following the large, round shapes that begin to rise opaquely within its body. Another tentacle emerged—thicker than the others—waving back and forth within the V of her splayed legs, moving closer and closer in its explorations. Reaching the convergence of her legs, it gave one, long, slow stroke cross the lips of her nethers, focusing the attention of this action against her clitoris.
Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Vix needed this more than she needed air or life. This was everything to her. Immortality meant she could pursue and explore whatever pleasures she wanted, but she didn’t care. Vix had never cared about anything in her long, unproductive life—nothing but being filled.
The tendril entered her with a characteristic nonchalance; the things had no sense of courtesy or propriety… but neither did she. This was all about selfish pleasure. It filled her quickly, the strong firmness of its pseudopod pressing out against the walls of her vagina, seeming to swell inside her. She gave a few hard thrusts against it, trying to force it deeper.
She needed more, needed all of it.
There was an aching sensation as the pressure against her cervix increased, her new body reluctant to allow the intruder into her womb. The more successful pregnancies a Demon had, the easier this part got—but she didn’t want it to be easy; she wanted to feel everything.
Another thrust on her part and it entered her fully. She could see it as a small bulge pressing out from her flat stomach, roving around a little in exploration.
“Come on,” she panted, squirming in its grasp. “Come on, give it to me! Give it to me, you freak!”
Perhaps driven by her insatiable urging, the tendril started to pulse, a spot of thickness moving up along its length, spreading her wider as it entered her body. The pulses continued, each one a little larger, filling her a little more until…
One of those dark, opaque spots entered the tentacle, carried along by the pulseations. To O’vix, it moved with an agonizing lethargy, more of these flexing pulses overtaking and passing over it as it progressed down the tentacle’s length. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it, her teeth digging into her lip in anticipation. She tried to wiggle down against it, just to close that gap, but she couldn’t tell if it did any good.
The next egg was already entering the tentacle behind the first.
The bulge reached her at last, the forceful movements of the creature spreading her lips tighter as it forced the mass of the egg up into her vagina. She could feel the strain as her virginal passage was widened, a dull ache in her pelvis as the ligaments stretched around the huge bulk of the hard-shelled egg. It hurt, but she loved it, needed it.
This was what she’d come here for.
The egg entered her fully, forming a bulge in her pelvis as it reached the narrowness of her cervix. She could feel it pressing against her, and she pressed back, the pressure and heat growing inside her body driving her excitement. With each push it would go a little further in, slide a little back out, unable to fully fit through.
This beast was too small and weak to really drive it home—this being the sort they kept for novices to practice on before moving up to the real show—but as the second egg encountered the first, the force began to build until she couldn’t take it anymore. It was so close, she just—
One last shove pushed both eggs up into her womb, filling her deliciously.
Her body shook in its first real taste of ecstacy, the sensation quickly racing through her bones in a bright rush before slowly fading to a warm and passive glow. It was good, but not enough, and she rolled onto her back as best she could, reaching down with her free arm to try and squeeze the next egg along its path faster.
Once it was close enough, she cupped her hand behind it and pressed it against her nethers, trying desperately to speed this up. Her stomach bulged with two already, swelling out from her small frame—the one curve she possessed—but she needed to be bigger, needed to feel tighter, and she was going to get what she wanted.
Egg after egg emerged from the thing, and she took each with an unrelenting hunger, the size of her womb jumping as each one entered her body, but she only wanted more. Her belly was huge and rounded, sitting atop her like a tight boulder of flesh, pressing her against the floor. The weight added to it all, giving more resistance to each egg, teasing her, driving her wild.
Suddenly and without any fanfare, the flow of eggs stopped.
The rising sense of pleasure O’vix felt stalled, slowly began to recede and it took her a few moments to realized what had happened. The creature let go of her and collapsed, falling back into a gooey pile. She rolled onto her side and slowly managed to get to her knees, then pushed up from the edge of the bowl until she was on her feet.
She was big—looking fit to burst the three babies if she had to guess—but she could take more and she knew it. However incongruous her huge belly looked on her narrow body—its top swelling out roundly from just below her small breasts—it wasn’t enough.
“Hey!” She shouted, kicking the puddle of goo. “Is that all you’ve got?!” The creature wasn’t bothered by her shouts or blows, and it had no more eggs to give. One bad kick sent her off balance and she landed hard on her butt, swearing under her breath.
“Now, once these these little ones hatch,” said the guard, patting O’vix’s round and shiny belly rudely. “And you’re all empty again, you come back here and we’ll let you go with the next step up. You have to pace yourself.”
Vix ignored her, focusing instead on remaining upright as she waddled down the hall. The guard insisted on escorting her back to the entrance. Now and then, she leaned against the wall to rest and catch her breath. When they were in view of the exit, she stopped.
“I need to sit down,” she said, lowering herself to the floor.
“Yeah, the first time can be hard on a new body. Once you have two or three pregnancies under your belt, your hips’ll get better at carrying them.” The silver-eyed guard stood by diligently, waiting for Vix to recover enough to continue.
After a minute or two, another guard came out of one of the intersecting halls and whispered something in her ear, an anxious look on her face. They conversed in hushed tones for a moment, and then the newcomer left.
“I’ve got some business I need to see to, O’vix. Now, you’ve been good and behaved yourself today; can I trust you to leave when you’re ready?”
Vix nodded silently.
“Good, then I look forward to seeing you for your next visit.” The guard smiled and waved goodbye as she went down the side hall, her footsteps slowly fading into the distance.
O’vix remained sitting for a little while longer—she really did need to rest—and she spent this time rubbing her hands over her huge stomach. Although the eggs were hard, the creatures cushioned them with an amount of thick slime, giving her belly a perfectly round shape. She tapped her fingers against it and rubbed slow circles over its broad sides, feeling a shivering jolt like static as her strained flesh reacted to the touch. It was good, but she wanted more.
O’vix walked through the lower halls as quietly as she could, taking care with each step to remain unnoticed. Whatever the guards were dealing with, it seemed to be occupying their attentions. The halls were almost empty, and she was careful enough to avoid the ones who were are around. She knew where she was going, but she took a little detour, needing to make one stop first.
The break room was empty, someone having left a cup of coffee on the table beside a half-eaten donut. Vix entered, picked up the donut as she passed by and shoved it into her mouth hungrily. She was pregnant after all, and a girl had to eat.
This wasn’t her first time breaking into a cell, and she knew where the keys were kept. The lock on the key cabinet was easily jimmied open, and then she swiped a keyring before turning to leave.
A pair of voices was approaching the break room, echoing down the hall very unstealthily. Vix panicked, looking around, trying to judge if she had time to get out the door and around the corner or if they’d see her, but there was no chance of that. Thinking quick, she opened one of the lower cabinets and grabbed the miscellaneous cleaning supplies kept therein, shoving them careless into the next cabinet over to make room before climbing inside.
O’vix was small and the cabinet was big, but with her belly it was a tight fit. She sat as far back as she could, arms legs and head pressed between the walls of the cabinet and the orb of her womb as she struggled to make herself as compact as possible. Even so, the door remained ever-so-slightly ajar.
“Hey, who ate my donut?” came an angry voice.
“And the key cabinet’s open, too,” said another.
“This maybe be Hell, but have some common decency!”
“I bet it was Christi. She’s always leaving the cabinet open. Y’know, I heard she’s going to get demoted soon.”
“Really? OMG tell me everything,” the voice began to sip some coffee.
Vix rolled her eyes as the two began to gossip. She was terribly uncomfortable, squished around the beach ball her stomach had become. Breathing was hard, but doable, and she soon found herself sweating with the strain of it all.
Still, the two guards chatted idly.
Then she felt something move just beneath her cheek where it pressed against the top of her stomach. She tried to move to see what was happening, but there was no way to maneuver that. The movement continued, pressing out against her skin, wiggling against its confines as it stretched and flexed within her.
This was bad.
One of the eggs was hatching inside of her.
If she didn’t do anything, it was going to work its way down and out, and giving birth would definitely reveal her presence in the cabinet. She didn’t have time to think of a plan, the grub now working its way around the outer edge of her belly, a unnatural bulge moving over the surface of her tight skin. It felt incredible—the movement exciting her sensitive body as it moved autonomously inside her—but she had to act.
Biting her lip to keep from moaning, she worked one of her arms down by her side, slipping her hand between her thigh and belly to find her labia. As she pressed her hand against herself, she felt the grub wriggling against her cervix, slowly opening it again as it squeezed into her birth canal.
Its narrow end moved back and forth, wiggling its way through her until it encountered her hand, clasped tight against her opening to keep it from escaping.
The guards’ banal conversation continued unabated.
The larva pressed out again, and she poked a couple of fingers inside of herself to push it back up. This agitated the hatchling and it pushed back, but was no match for its mother’s hand.
O’vix couldn’t help herself. She was getting excited, despite her situation, and she stuck a finger of her other hand in her mouth to bite down on and stifle a moan. The larva was half in her vagina, and it was pushing against the eggs to try and get out, but she held it back. The thing squirmed and writhed, and she stroked her thumb over the nub of her clitoris, reveling in the electric shivers it sent through her pelvis and thighs. Her legs began to twitch as the feeling built, a pleasant heat growing inside of her. She rubbed and teased as her fingers pressed against her offspring. It wanted out, but she wasn’t ready yet, wasn’t full enough yet, and it would just have to wait.
She bit her knuckle hard enough to draw blood, trying against hope to suppress he cries of pleasure, but she could only do so much. A few strangled squeaks escaped her throat as she ograsmed, her breath holding for long seconds as her body stopped, overwhelmed by the sensations of fullness and ecstacy.
The heat started to fade and she wanted to keep going, but knew she had to stop. Her breath was hot against the skin of her belly, and she focused on keeping it quiet and regular, her heart rate slowly coming back into normal rhythm.
For a few long moments she listened and heard nothing.
She’d stopped paying attention in her excitement and had missed the end of the conversation. Now she carefully opened the cabinet door, revealing the room by quiet fractions until she was sure the coast was clear.
With a grunt of effort, she wiggled her way out of the cabinet, her fingers still keeping the grub inside. As she stood, her hand slipped out and the tip of the grub emerged from her, seizing its chance at freedom. She quickly grabbed it and shoved it back in, her knees shaking with pleasure as the ember of her recent orgasm tried to rekindle. Once she got to her feet and her hips weren’t so spread, it was easier to stop it from escaping. Keys in one hand and nethers in the other, she shut the cabinet with her hip and snuck out into the hall.
O’vix locked the door of the cell behind herself, wanting to proceed undisturbed. This was the lower levels and there weren’t as many guards to catch her, but you couldn’t be too careful when breaking the rules.
She left the keys in the lock and turned to look around the room. It was much like the other cell, but larger to accommodate the size of its inmate. She stepped down into the bowl—swaying with her bulk as she did— and went over to the beast.
“Psst, hey! You wanna have some fun?” she smiled and squatted over it, rubbing herself against its warm, smooth body.
In response to the stimulus, the creature wrapped itself around her ankles, rising up to press against her in kind. An exploratory tendril emerged and she grabbed it, guiding it to her labia and press pushing her hips down against it. It entered her, blocking the troublesome grub and forcing it back up into her womb. Her cervix remained open from the attempted birth and the beast slipped through without issue, finding her already quite full of eggs.
It stopped, perhaps hesitating, but she stroked her hand along the tendril coaxingly.
“C’mon, give it to me, I can take it.”
The thing raised up, growing in height until it towered over her, a cloud of eggs floating inside of it. It must have been twice as big as the last one, and once it decided it wanted her, it wasted no time.
In seconds, it had her hanging forward, all four of her limbs wrapped securely in its tendrils. The weight of her belly threatened to drag her down, but it kept her at a steady angle as the pulsations began.
This one was more confident, more experienced, and more efficient. As soon as the first egg entered its tentacle, the next one pushed in behind it. They moved quickly, reaching her lips in seconds and giving her no break between them, stretching her wide and squeezing in one after another.
The effect was instantaneous, her mouth falling open, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she finally got what she needed. The pressure inside her built, her already tight womb stretching achingly further around the bulk of the new eggs, threatening to split her open like a piece of overripe fruit.
She swelled, her belly button flattening out under the pressure inside, her skin tingling and itching, jolts of tense discomfort shooting through it as her body signaled it was at its limit. But she didn’t stop, even as the eggs pushed up against her chest, squeezing the breath out of her lungs.
A heat was growing in her, a smell like ash beginning to fill the air. She felt a strange sensation of movement, and looked down to see odd bulges covering her belly as more of the eggs hatched in the heat of her sex, the larvae emerging and finding there was nowhere to go, their mother so full of them already. And still more eggs filled her, her belly hanging from her frail body like an overtaxed balloon, almost reaching the ground as it grew.
Her skin creaked under the pressure, the heat now close to overwhelming her. Her stomach swelled to engulf the bulges, now too tight for the larvae to press out. She was a bubble balancing on the point of a needle, nearly transparent from being stretched so thin.
One egg remained in her birth canal, the last the beast had to offer. The beast pulsed and pushed, but couldn’t force it in.
“Come on,” she panted, her breath coming out as steam. She was almost there, her body about to go, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that would shatter her. “Come on, is that all you’ve got? I can take it,” she tried to wiggle down against the egg, but the weight of her belly was almost paralyzing. “Give it to me, come on! Just… one… more…!” She scooted down, her cervix opening around the widest part of the egg and the rest of it slipped in, closing the exit behind her.
For one brilliant moment, she was too pregnant, her body pushed just beyond its absolute boundaries. She was alive, burning, every nerve singing, screaming, crying out in ecstasy as she tipped over the edge. Sparks leapt from her skin, burning embers that left black dots on the floor around her. Her body—new and inexperienced—was never meant to carry such a burden, as unused to the strain of pregnancy as it was. The fabric of her stomach tried desperately to contain the eggs even as they hatched, the larvae becoming dark shapes struggling to move beneath her skin. Her belly was so shiny—so tight—a breath might be too much.
And she was there at last.
And that was everything.
As her body came apart, she was at once consumed in her own fires, burning up into a pile of ash amidst the larvae and discarded shells which now littered the floor. Her mind entered the orgasmic oblivion that few dared experience, the blinding joy that threatened to consume her very soul, to fracture that untouchable essence that was her.
But beneath it all she wondered, maybe it already had?
O’vix reformed in the pits of the underworld, breath entering her lungs in a choking gust. She gasped for air, her body still in the throes of pleasure, her mind still far away. This lasted an eternity, and she was too overwhelmed even to touch herself. She just writhed and hoped that it would last forever this time.
But it did fade, as it always did, and O’vix was left naked in the pits of hell, feeling cold and very empty.