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Her birthday came about. Bunting hung from the walls and lights, flowers made archways and chains, and her cake stood three layers tall upon the table. A topper standing proudly; twenty-three years of age. She couldn’t believe it, she was getting older, becoming an adult.Soon, she might find someone to spend her life with. Someone to fill her belly with beautiful children. A large family. That was what she wanted, truly. Nothing would make her happier. Most of all, the joys of pregnancy. Feeling the life within. Growing something special.Music boomed from the speakers. Her guests danced, mingled, and drank. Emma ate a delicious slice of cake.The night passed in a blur. Soon, the house was empty, and she was left alone.Her phone, left on top of an end table, set the quiet room abuzz. It whirred and danced to the side as Emma hopped over to swipe it.Her grandmother. How nice. She would probably wish her a happy birthday.‘Hi Gran,’ she said down the mic.Her grandmother breathed heavily down the line. ‘Emma, listen to me.’‘Is everything alright?’‘I’m quite fine, dear, but you—’ she broke up. The line was weak.Emma squinted as though it would help her to hear. ‘I’m sorry Gran, I can’t hear you.’‘Doesn’t matter—curse—second generation,’ she said, her words were hurried, frantic, ‘prepare—pregnant—you can’t stop the moths!’‘Gran?’‘You can’t stop them!’ Her grandmother hung up.Emma looked at her phone screen, brows furrowed. What on Earth was that about moths?Emma brought up her mother’s messages, a birthday congratulations was the most recent one. She hastily pressed in a message, asking her to check on her grandmother, as she seemed distressed.Will do, an almost immediate response.With that, Emma decided to get ready for bed. She yawned, exhausted from all the celebrating. Stretched her arms. Wandered to the bedroom.The window was open and the wind curled in, lifting the sheer curtains. Emma didn’t mind the cool air at night, she would snuggle under her sheets and get warm.She threw off her mini-dress, her bra, her underwear, and hopped into a steamy shower. The hot water careened over her lithe frame; a gift from her mother.People always commented that she was too small. She agreed. She wished she was curvy, like her friends.Her best friend was six months pregnant. Her hips had widened, breasts largened, her midsection burgeoned with life. She looked more beautiful than ever, even with a waddle. Emma yearned for the same thing. If only she had a boyfriend.She sighed, fondling her breasts. Lifting them up and down in the palm of her hand. What would they feel like, enlarged with milk? Her nipples aching, pronounced, ready for the mouth of a child. Her stomach tightened just below her navel. She bit her lip. Rubbed her thighs together. She shouldn’t think about pregnancy this way. It made her feel dirty. But—she placed a palm on her tummy, imagining what she would look like. How round and heavy she would get.A groan slipped from her lips, muffled by the rushing water.The batteries in her toy had run out. She’d need to find new ones.She brought her head under the water. It trailed across her face, her cheeks, she closed her eyes. Hand still stroking her tummy. Thighs still rubbing together.She needed something inside of her.She turned off the shower. Slipped out. Patted her body down, lingering on her breasts, her belly, the sensitive place between her thighs.She playfully slipped on a nightgown, barely long enough to cover her arse. She looked at it in the mirror as she passed, on the hunt for batteries.By the fifth drawer, her excitement waned. She yanked it open, not daring to look and see it bore no fruit. But there, at the back, were three.‘Yes!’ she pumped her fist. ‘Pleasure is back on the menu.’She danced her way over to the bed. An absent-minded glance to the window.On the ledge was a huge moth.She paused in awe. Truly, huge. It was almost the size of her palm. It seemed to glow under the moonlight, white and indigo. She’d never seen anything like it.‘Hello there.’ She walked over to get a better look. She peered down at it, she imagined that it peered up at her. ‘I must dash, little one. The bed awaits.’ She giggled. She’d seen the moth, now it was time for some fun. The rabbit vibrator waggled in her hand as she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs.Lube, she thought. She opened her bed-side drawer, and there it was. Cherry, her favourite flavour. She squeezed a bead of it onto the tip of the cock. Brought it to her folds. Rubbed the coolness against her clit before teasing her hole. She moaned as her belly tightened in anticipation. The itch building and building from her bundle of nerves. She licked her lips and closed her eyes.She imagined a man on top of her. Big, and strong. His cock huge and long, lined up with her entrance. He was going to fuck a baby into her. Fill her with his cum until she was swollen round.‘Yes,’ she moaned.He grunted against her neck as he plunged in, spearing her on his length, inch by inch, taking his sweet time.Then he began to pump in and out, nice and slow, but firm. Then faster. Faster still. Harder.Emma’s breasts and thighs jiggled as she thrust the vibrator in and out of her cunt. All sorts of noises came from her mouth. Her entrance squelched and clicked with her wetness. She was so wet. So ready to be bred by the imaginary man.Something landed on her chest. She jolted out of her fantasy.It fluttered in front of her face.She opened her eyes to see the moth there, looking at her, and her orgasm dissolved into a fizzle.‘Not cool,’ she said, ‘go away. Shoo.’ She tried to flick it, it wouldn’t budge. It rubbed its beady little face with one of its legs. Flicked out its wings. ‘Go away!’ Emma waved her nighty until the moth was sent up into the air. To her relief, it didn’t come back down.She closed her eyes again, readying to penetrate herself. This time she wanted the vibrator against her clit.The bed beneath her was now warm, and pleasant. Emma sunk down into it as she lined up the toy again.But she felt a strange sensation down there. Fluttering. The beating of delicate wings. Shit, the moth again. It’d probably go away. She ignored it.Just as she gently thrust the toy, the little creature slipped in.Emma shrieked. Dropped the toy. Sat bolt upright and looked down at her crotch in horror. She clawed at her entrance. Surely not. Pushed in two fingers as deep as they could go. It was there. Its fuzzy body against her fingertips. The thing crawled inside of her. It made its way up her tunnel. She could feel its little legs against her walls. Up and up, until Emma felt a jolt of pain. Only minor, but it made her flinch.Surely not. She shook her head. This wasn’t happening.She felt her hips relax of their own accord, seeming to widen, as though—her cervix. It had pushed past her cervix. And her body had let it in.Her eyes widened in terror.It was truly…inside of her.She pressed a hand against her belly. She was still. Feeling for any signs of movement. Would anyone believe that this happened? What could she even do?There.‘Oh my god.’ Her mouth gaped. She felt it moving against her hand.She jumped up off the bed. Began to pace. Her heart pounded.Her grandmother. Her grandmother had said something about moths.She lunged for her phone and pressed call. Shoved a nail in her mouth and bit it as she waited. It rang and rang. Finally—‘Emma?’‘Gran!’‘Oh Emma, I'm so sorry, has it happened yet?’‘Gran, please believe me. There was a moth—it—it's inside of me,’ Emma cried.Her grandmother was silent for a moment. ‘Dear, you must remain calm, this is…normal.’‘This isn’t normal! How could you say that? What should I do? How do I get it out?’‘It’ll come out on its own, dear, don’t worry.’‘It will?’ Emma placed a hand against her chest. That was good news. What a relief.‘Listen carefully, Emma. I’m so sorry. Our family is cursed,’ her grandmother said.‘What—what do you mean?’‘On this month of every year, once the women of our family reach the age of twenty-three—this only affects the second generation, mind you—, dear…well, the moth comes,’ she said, ‘and it—it—lays eggs—’‘What—’‘Only little ones. But many many eggs. You’re not to worry, it's a fairly swift process—not painful, Emma, I swear.’Emma froze. Her blood ran cold. ‘Eggs?’ She stared blankly at her tummy. The moth was laying eggs.‘It's important not to panic. Just lay back and relax for a few days, and eventually they’ll all come out.’‘They’ll come out.’ Emma rubbed her tummy. Her eyes glazed over.‘Now don’t panic, but your belly will swell up, dear… quite—quite large. Just think of it as a pregnancy. Well, it is one. The curse makes it so. But the moths won’t harm you.’Emma gazed down at her flat tummy. She was going to swell up? Like a pregnancy? No. It wasn’t meant to be like this. She was meant to be in love, round with a human baby, not—not—moths.‘Just lay in bed and get comfy. Wait it out—’Emma hung up on her grandmother. She’d heard enough.She climbed onto the bed, resting against her pillow. Her legs were wide open. She waited for the moth to finish its deed, to leave her. An hour passed. Emma stared intensely at her tummy. She’d felt flutters and a faint crawling sensation as the moth did its work inside of her. A little black shadow moved around beneath her skin. Surely it would run out of space soon.She wondered how many eggs it had laid there in her womb, whether they would grow, how they would come out of her. Most of all, how big she would get.She lingered on the thought. Her cunt grew wet. She snapped out of it.‘No. Stop it,’ she said to herself, ‘this is not good. Not mildly good. There’s a moth laying eggs in your cunt. This is bad.’She looked over at her vibrator. Licked her bottom lip. Snapped out of it, and returned to watching the moth shift beneath her skin.Eventually it vanished down, further than she could see, and she felt it pressing its way back out. She groaned with her head thrown back as it squeezed past her cervix and fluttered out of her hole. It was covered in slick, and mucus, and it shook its wings before lunging for the window. It slipped out into the night.Emma wasted no time before swiping her vibrator, shoving it back into her cunt with a squelch. She squeezed around the length of it, milked it.She pressed it onto the highest setting and rubbed the little ears against her clit.Eventually, she blacked out. Emma awoke to the chirping of birds outside her window. Each chitter brought the world into focus. It was all a blur. Her head hurt, her throat was sore from all the singing, and her hips ached from the extensive pleasure session last night. She felt heavy, melded to the bed.She shifted her legs. The toy was still between her thighs. She must have fallen asleep, too tired to move it.She opened her eyes.It all came rushing back. The moth, its little adventure.Her gaze snapped to her tummy.‘Oh,’ she gasped, ‘oh my.’It had swelled. What once was a flat plain, was now a low, swooping mountain that poked up out of the bed sheets.Her nighty had ridden up, beyond her thighs, over the bump. It was now bundled just below her breasts, which sagged off to either side.With a shaky hand, she grazed over the softly rounded expanse. Pressed a finger into it. Swollen and firm.She jolted up onto her elbows, her breasts flopping down to rest on her belly, the little dome extruded and fell up and down with her breaths.Emma attempted to get out of bed. Now no easy task, she wasn’t used to the extra weight. So suddenly, too. She cupped the underside of her belly with her palm and steadied herself as she stood upright, making her way to the mirror.She marvelled at her transformation.