When the ship first appeared in the sky we were told there was nothing to fear. It was large and luminescent, hovering in the air with an ethereal glow.

Then, one by one, the men started to vanish. We were told it was for our own good, that it was a necessary sacrifice. We were left alone, confused and scared.

Then the gifting began. I was one of the first to experience it. My belly expanded, growing rounder with each passing day. It was inexplicable, terrifying, and yet strangely fascinating.

Not long after, my friend Trisha started showing signs of pregnancy as well. Her stomach was quickly expanding, her body transforming in the same way mine had.

We were both perplexed. Neither of us could comprehend what was happening. Our bodies were changing, growing in ways we never thought possible.

When we turned on the news, we saw that it wasn't just us. The news anchor, a woman in her forties, had a full round pregnant belly too.

It was chaos outside. The streets were filled with pregnant women, their bodies also inexplicably transformed. Fear and confusion were rampant.

The ship had done this. The ship that we were told was harmless. The ship that had taken our men and left us alone and vulnerable.

We soon learned the horrifying truth. Our pregnancy would be permanent. We were to serve as cattle, producing milk for a black market on the alien home world.

Our bodies were not our own anymore. They belonged to the aliens, to their insatiable thirst for milk. We were nothing more than commodities to them.

They began to experiment further. One after another, women's breasts grew larger, able to produce more milk each day. The aliens saw us as nothing more than dairy cows.

Mine were some of the biggest in the city. It was a grotesque honor that I didn't want, a mark of my body's betrayal.

We were trapped. There was no escape. The ship loomed over us, a constant reminder of our fate.