Kompera
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Parasite
🕑 Added 2017-01-15 17:03:33 +0000 UTC-
Mickey was a custodian at a lab. At twenty-six, he hadnt amounted to much, but custodial duties, he could handle.
It was an evening like any other. The scientists had cleared out a few hours earlier, and Mickey was on the night shift, cleaning everything up. While polishing the gears on one of the numerous mechanical devises, a part snapped off, and black oil splattered all over his coveralls.
Groaning in disgust, Mickey quickly plugged the leak with some putty. He then unbuttoned his uniform and slid it down, stepping out in just some boxers and an undershirt. He was sure he had a spare outfit in his car.
As Mickey crouched down and tried his best to contain the oil mess from spreading across the floor, he was oblivious of a small grub worming its way along the machine. It crawled onto Mickeys shoulder then proceeded down Mickeys collar, Mickey oblivious as the grub crawled down his torso.
Mickey felt a stinging sensation in his navel. He winced, and lifted his shirt. But there was nothing there.
Shrugging it off, Mickey continued to clean the mess.
Over the next few days, Mickey was oblivious of the parasitic alien grub that had burrowed itself inside his navel. He took notice that his innie belly button had become an outie quite suddenly, but he didnt really think anything of it.
As the days went by, Mickeys belly button continued to swell. Within a week, it was the size of a golf ball. In another, a tangerine. It had become an awkward knot in his coveralls, bobbing gently as he moved around. At times Mickey thought of seeing a doctor about it, but he was always just too busy with work.
Mickey also noticed that he was eating more than usual, and starting to develop a beer gut on his otherwise thin frame. In a matter of time, his abdomen was stretching against his coveralls. Of course, Mickey was oblivious of the fact that his parasitic grub was forcing any incoming fat to be distributed directly to his belly so to ensure that it had a constant source of nutrition. In fact, Mickey was generally content and peaceful in all that was transpiring, the constant flow of hormone that the alien grub produced ensuring that Mickey remained in a complacent, almost maternal, state.
Weeks turned to months, and Mickey was soon carrying around a bobbing ball of fat as a belly. His belly button was the size of an apple by then. Given his size, it became awkward and difficult for Mickey to navigate while getting work done. But he was otherwise content.
People certainly stared at him. He had gone up a few sizes in his coveralls, but it was still stretched tightly against his mound of fat. If he was a woman, he would have looked as though he was nine months pregnant. Often, Mickey clutched the mound against himself to keep it steady as he moved about. But he kept hard at work, completing his increasingly difficult cleaning duties every night.
Over a few days, his belly button became sensitive, flushed, and tender. Just touching it made Mickey shiver.
And if he wasnt imagining itit seemed to be pulsating. But strangely, Mickey still was not concerned.
One day, Mickey had a tough night at work. He had been trying to mop the break room, but kept having to stop to clutch his abdomen, groaning at the sensation of tightness and throbbing in his massive belly button. Mickey dared not to touch it. He simply leaned back on the wall, moaning quietly as it tightened and eased, back and forth, again and again.
Mickey carefully unbuttoned two buttons of his onesie, so that his belly button could protrude out in the open. It was truly massive. Hahhhh hahhh He panted as it tightened more. Thats when something bizarre happened. Something started pushing out of him! Mickey clutched his belly as grubs began to spray out of his navel, leaving him wide-eyed and gasping for breath.
Oh goddd He groaned, hunching down. There was a pause, before one more grub slowly pushed free, and splattered onto the floor. His face was flushed and sweaty, his eyes staring at the two dozen or so grubs squirming on the ground around him. He covered his mouth with his hand, thinking he might be sick.
In panic, Mickey left the room, not knowing what to think or how to feel. He made it into the changing rooms, and struggled his way out of his coveralls, stripping down to his boxers and his tanktop that couldnt even pull down past his navel. Clutching his belly, Mickey laid down on the carpeted floor, feeling overheated, as his belly pointed upwards, and he sweated through his remaining clothing. His tanktop was pasted to him by then. His belly button twitched, to his horror. It had shrunken down, to the size of a kiwi. It was no longer tender and red.
Mickeys stomach grumbled. Despite his anxiety, he could really do with a snack. Peeling himself off the floor, he made his way into the adjacent break room. One of his favorite activities was cleaning out all the leftover food. And Mickey did just that, munching away at forgotten lunches. He didnt think about the grubs. He didnt think about anything but the food.
Weeks went by, and the process seemed to cycle. Mickey accumulated more and more fat in his abdomen. It wasnt long before his belly button was apple-sized again, and he looked as though he was overdue with twins. Mickey developed a waddle, his belly button bobbing gently as he did. Soon his belly pressed the ground when he got down to all fours to clean especially dirty messes. In fact, Mickey was having difficulty getting any work done at all.
Other employees at the lab, curiously, also began to develop bulging belly buttons. Soon, several people had rounded bellies to accompany it.
And yet a relaxed environment hung over the lab. The hosts were collectively unconcerned. And like them, Mickey was as content as could be.
