Kompera
patreon
The Parasite, Part 2 - Male Version
🕑 Added 2017-12-31 09:42:13 +0000 UTC Story Directory: $5 PatronsStory Directory: $10 Patrons
Story Directory: $20 Patrons
Summary: Following infection by an alien parasite, Charles begins to hear a commanding voice in his head that demands him to stuff his face with food, massage various body parts, insert edibles into his orifices, and partake in other unusual activities. Charless belly grows and grows as the parasite swells in consequence. Charless efforts to balance his busy work life with the frightening voice of the parasite proves to be disastrous. Contains: Belly expansion, breast expansion, possible egg-laying and more.
-
That night, safely tucked into his bed, Charles tossed and turned in his sleep over several hours, until he was roused entirely awake.
He sat up in bed, restless, and panting, but not sure what had awoken him. He felt as though hed had a dream that he couldnt quite remember. And thats when he heard it.
Eat
Charles shifted uncomfortably. It was that voice in his head again. He had been certain that he had left it behind, at the lake house. He tried to shake it off. Maybe he was still dreaming. Charles lowered himself back down on the bed, and squeezed his eyes shut.
But the voice persisted.
Eat it commanded, somewhat louder in volume than it had been before.
Charles squirmed and tried to ignore it. He gripped at his pillow and squeezed it against his ears.
Eat! the voice boomed, growing yet louder. Charles could feel himself starting to get a headache.
Why did the voice want him to eat? Why was he hearing voices at all? But the longer he tried to ignore it, the more aggressive the voice seemed to become. Soon a coldness washed over him, and his body started shivering. Worse, the pain in his skull had exacerbated to the sensation of an ice pick stabbing into his brain.
The command was constant now, a rhythmic booming, that made Charles cringe every time it shot through him. Somehow he climbed out of bed and staggered down to his kitchen. He opened his fridge and blindly began to stuff food into his mouth, until slowly, but surely, the voice began to calm down.
The voice continued to urge him to eat, but less abrasively now. It encouraged him every moment or so, an order for him not to stop just yet.
Charles worked his way through packages of cold cuts, some leftover pasta and chicken thighs, a package of sliced bread, and half a gallon of egg nog he had from the holidays. He felt rushes of warmth as he ate, and it felt good. It felt right to follow the commands of the voice, and this unnerved him to some extent.
Finally, when even the whispered orders of the voice had ceased, Charles slowed his steady process of gorging himself. He gulped down the last piece of cold salami in his mouth, before returning what remained in the package to the fridge door, and waited.
The voice was gone.
Maybe Im going mad, Charles thought in uncertainty. That would be the most logical explanation for this. Feeling unnerved, he lowered himself back into his bedwincinghis stomach aching from the abuse. Before he could deliberate on the matter any longer, his combined fullness and exhaustion ensured that he promptly fell asleep.
When Charles awoke the next morning, he almost thought it had all been a dream. But the continued tightness in his belly didnt seem to contradict this suspicion. Rather than risking it, Charles packed his briefcase with copious amounts of snacks, before getting washed, dressed, and heading off to his job at the local bank.
It was close to noon when the first faint command made itself known. Eat
Charless eyes shot wide open. Rather than risking things escalating, as they had the night before, he quickly rummaged in his briefcase and stuffed an oreo cookie into his mouth. Whenever Charles was certain that he was neither being scrutinized by his boss, coworkers, nor customers, he stuffed his mouth with more cookies, crackers, and chips. His usually flat stomach felt uncomfortably bloated in his fitted slacks, but he felt as though he had no choice but to continue to eat, as the voice wanted, at least until the end of the work day.
Things proceeded as such over the rest of the week. Charles stocked up on groceries, and found himself climbing out of bed at least once a night to indulge the commands of the voice before it got too aggressive. The orders were always the same. Eat or consume being the extent of its vocabulary. And heeding it, Charles managed to get by, except, he noticed that his pants had tightened, his shirts now stretched against his usually lean body.
He was gaining weight. Charles would not have minded too much, however, most of what he ate seemed to surge directly to his stomach. It wasnt horrible. He was just getting slightly rounder. All things considered, he could have done to put on some weight. And if the alternative was being committed, Charles would happily tolerate it, and ignore the more demanding problem.
The voices vocabulary seemed to be increasing. Now it said eat and consume in addition to feed, more, and faster.
It said more, quite often now, and never seemed to be sated. Charles tried to snack slowly and discreetly, stuffing a piece of pastry into his mouth at least ever few minutes.
One day, Charles had attempted to indulge the voice only with vegetables, and things had not gone well. No matter how many cucumber slices he ate, the voice grew louder, until Charless head was throbbing, his body shaking violently, and hed had no choice but to insist on an abrupt break from work, hurry off to the nearby drugstore, and almost blindly purchase several packages of chips.
His chest was getting softer, anthills developing there. His bottom was swelling as well, tightly stretching his dress pants. His belly seemed more like a beer belly now, full and round, but still quite soft to the touch. It was no longer capable of being tucked into his trousers, instead pushing the waist down, stretching his shirts, bobbing awkwardly, and making him look as though he was a five-month pregnant man.
His face was getting fuller as well. Charles examined himself in his bathroom mirror one evening. He ran his fingers over his plumpening figure, shivering slightly as they slid over his sensitive chest. He could hardly stand to put on any more weight. But even then, he could sense the voice thrumming, just below the surface of his consciousness, planning its next command.
Charles reluctantly left the bathroom and padded towards the kitchen, bulging somewhat from the undone buttons of his trousers, and suspecting that this was another article of clothing that he would not be able to squeeze into come the morning.
He walked to his kitchen counter, and grabbed a banana from the bunch. It was starchy. It should suffice. He unpeeled it and took a bite, unconsciously cringing as he forced the fruit into his already-full stomach.
He was confused by the command that followed.
Lower
Charles dropped his arm holding the banana in shock, the peeled fruit now level with his waist.
Mmm
He stood there stunned, not understanding the noise at all. The voice seemed almost human lately.
Lower
Charles lowered the banana farther. He hesitated, and rested it back on the counter, somewhat relieved that he didnt have to gorge himself anymore.
EATTT!!! the voice screamed.
Charles nearly jumped. Shaking now, he quickly lifted the banana back to his lips, and munched.
Lower lower
Charles couldnt understand. The voice wanted the banana lower? But not on the table? He experimentally waved the banana, eventually lowering it along the length of his body, from his waist to his hips.
Mmm
This whole situation was insane. Charles hesitated, and pushed down his trousers, groaning in relief as more of his body popped out, free of constriction. Breathing, he pushed the trousers down to the ground, and stepped out of them, so that now he stood there, in just his shirt and briefs.
More feed lower
Charles shivered as a tingling iciness swept over his shoulders. Unthinkingly, he pushed down his briefs, and aligned the banana with his groin. Slowly, he shifted the banana behind him.
Mmm yes
This was insanity! But the voice hummed its approval as Charles spread his thighs. You want me to put it The voice did not respond, it just continued to hum.
Charles spread his ass cheeks and pressed that banana between them, shuddering as he did. He felt entirely ridiculous as he spread himself farther, and pushed, and was shocked when his opening strangely stretched to facility the passage of the banana, even though the banana should have logically been crushed. Instead it slipped easily inside of him, as Charles groaned and fidgeted uncomfortably, pushing it as far as he could, until something inside of him seemed to suck it up! His eyes snapped open as the banana disappeared from the reach of even his finger. It was plain weird, and he was stunned.
Mooree
Oh god, Charles thought, looking at the remainder of the bunch of bananas, still sitting on his counter. Taking a gulp, he reached out, detached one, and began to peel it, almost mechanically. He then repeated the process of feeding the fruit to his loins. With a grunt, he squatted down to give it easier access, feeling strange, and aroused, and as though, perhaps he should visit the hospital after all.
Only when all of the bananas were gone, did the voice disappear. Panting a bit, Charles clumsily climbed to his feet, feeling sore, fully anticipating a horrible infection by morning time. He hesitated, before slipping his pointer finger into his hole, fully expecting to feel banana residue. But it was strangely clean. There was no trace of what he had done to himself, except for a tingling soreness, and an uncomfortable tightness in his gut.
