The Parasite, Part 3 - Female Version (Patreon)

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Summary: Following infection by an alien parasite, Chloe begins to hear a commanding voice in her head that demands her to stuff her face with food, massage various body parts, insert edibles into her loins, and partake in other unusual activities. Chloe’s belly grows and grows as the parasite swells in consequence. Chloe’s efforts to balance her busy work life with the frightening voice of the parasite proves to be disastrous. Contains: Belly expansion, breast expansion, possible egg-laying and more.

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Rub…

Chloe’s eyes snapped open. She looked around the room, slightly disoriented. She could tell it was morning, though it was still dark out.

Rub… The voice’s vocabulary seemed to be increasing.

What? was all Chloe could think in her confusion, still trying to blink away the remnants of slumber. She rubbed her hands together, but the voice only became more insistent.

Rub…rub…

Chloe tried rubbing her hands over her arms. And then, slightly disgusted with herself, she approached her torso, starting with her shoulders, fingers kneading into the thin layer of recent weight gain.

Lower…

Lips thinning, Chloe rubbed her hands over her chest. She groaned as her fingers glided over her nipples, which had grown larger, and more sensitive in recent days. At present, they were erect, swollen, and sore, so she was quick to move her hands down to her bloated belly.

Mmmm…

Chloe continued to mechanically rub her stomach, oblivious of the logic behind the arbitrary instructions. But she knew that if she followed them, there was no screaming in her head, and no pain or coldness. So she continued to do as she was told. It was hardly a sacrifice.

She rubbed her hands over the plump mound of fat that had become of her belly, the voice falling silent, but a contented humming filling her head. For some reason, she glided her fingers under her shirt, and up her chest. She gently fondled her breasts again. The voice didn’t complain. Chloe grunted slightly as she carefully stroked her hard, swollen nipples, deriving pleasure this time rather than pain.

Squeeze… said the voice.

Chloe reddened slightly, but cupped her breasts gently. She applied pressure, squeezing them in her grasp. Then she continued to rub them, and took her nipples between her fingers. She tentatively pressed, causing a sharp gasp to escape her throat.

They were full C-cups. Maybe larger. By then, they were bulging from all her newest bras.

Chloe didn’t mind the growth of her breasts too severely. They grew plumper and rounder, not sagging under their increased weight.

The other changes, however, were rather, less welcome.

Chloe climbed out of bed once the voice seemed satisfied with her compliance. She grabbed up her towel and headed to the bathroom to get washed.

Over the next few days, she continued to eat in increasing amounts. And she continued to—be forced—to push food into her genitals. She didn’t know how it was even possible to consume food in such a way, or why it was somehow necessary. She just knew that when she pushed food into her vagina, and it disappeared inside of her, she was rewarded with the same sensation of fullness that she got when she swallowed food down her throat—perhaps even greater.

The commands were keen and relentless, and Chloe found herself pushing meat balls, chocolate bars, sausages, and chunks of bread past her labia. On one occasion, she even jammed an entire roll of cookie dough into herself. It was disgusting, and slightly nauseating, as her belly tightened and the voice hummed in delight.

“I would like to make a deposit,” said her first customer that morning.

Chloe offered a weary smile and slid over a deposit slip.

Feed… the voice ordered, causing Chloe to furrow her brows. It was still so early.

As the customer continued to fill out a deposit slip, Chloe discreetly reached into her purse beneath the counter, and slid her hand into a box of donut holes she had picked up from a bakery that morning. She quickly stuffed one into her mouth, and gulped it down just before the client looked back up at her.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the slip and the check, and depositing it into the account. “And here is your receipt.”

Feed! The voice was impatient.

The client tottered off, and thankfully, no others followed. Chloe threw a quick glance around the bank, but none of her coworkers were paying attention to her. Jittery by then, she stuffed several more donut holes into her mouth, and chomped them down.

Lower.

Chloe nearly groaned. She pushed her chair back and grabbed her oversized purse, intending to head to the bathroom.

“Taking a break already?” said her boss, Peter, who was passing. He stopped and raised his brow at her. “Everything alright, Chloe? You’ve been stepping out a lot lately.” His eyes flickered to her rounded belly.

“No, erm…” Chloe returned to her seat. “I was just making sure I had enough receipt paper.” She opened a drawer and pretended to fumble around in it.

Still giving her an intent look, Peter nodded, and walked off.

By then, pulses of coldness were rolling down Chloe’s spine, and the voice’s commands had increased in intensity.

Feed…lower…feed…FEED…

Another customer arrived. “I would like to withdraw…” he rambled on, though Chloe could hardly seem to hear him.

“Right,” said Chloe, trembling. Her head was pounding. With one hand, she typed on her computer, though she couldn’t say she was certain what she was doing. With her other hand, she reached back into her purse, now withdrawing a stick of string cheese from a large package.

Thankfully, the counter offered a decent overhang to her lap, and no one was paying close attention to her anyway. Though it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Chloe was feeling faint.

As she continued to pretend to observe her computer screen, pressing buttons and mumbling something about an “error message,” Chloe discreetly slid her hand into the bottom of her skirt, hardly able to withhold a groan as the cool stick of cheese made contact with her tender groin.

She was sore from the daily abuse from the varied foods she was forced to cram inside of her. And to her surprise, she was wet and tingling, her face flushing as the cheese stick slipped easily into her body.

“Miss…” the customer was speaking, perhaps repeating himself after saying it several times already. “Miss? Are you alright?”

Chloe shook herself, feeling only slightly more lucid. “Uhm…yes. Yes, fine, thanks,” she said politely, giving the customer a peculiar look, as though he was the odd one. She quickly opened the client’s account on her console and withdrew $200 from it. She placed it into an envelope and passed it over, praying it was the right amount.

The customer didn’t even check. He was still looking strangely at her, like somehow he knew what she had been up to under the counter. Chloe’s cheeks darkened and the customer walked off, pocketing the money, still not bothering to count it.

More…more… the voice pressed.

Chloe withdrew two more cheese sticks from her purse. She spread her thighs and pressed them both in at once, this time. As a grunt managed to escape her throat, her colleague, Pam, sent a glare from the next window. Chloe could hardly care. The stabbing coldness slipped away from her spine, as did the sharpness of the voice on her temple. She rubbed it, despite herself, as she retrieved another two cheese sticks from her purse. And so the day proceeded.

By the time Chloe got home that evening, she was full and exhausted. Her boss seemed especially wary of her, which had severely imposed on her ability to sneak off for extra breaks. The voice was more persistent than ever, and Chloe had found herself consistently fumbling under her skirt to stuff more food into her groin. By the end of the day, she had gone through the donut holes, the rest of the cheese sticks, and half a dozen hot dogs as well.

She groaned in discomfort as her fingers made contact with her skin-tight blouse. She felt full and bloated, and even a little nauseous. She cringed as the voice returned, more potent than ever:

Feed…feed me…more…more…

Me? Chloe wondered, as she dragged herself to the kitchen. Not for the first time, she wondered whether the voice was symptomatic of mental illness, or if it was somehow—apart from her. Though the “me” it implied must have been herself, her own commands, which seemed indicative of the former, and Chloe tried not to think about it.

Either prospect was unpleasant, and she couldn’t deal with them right now. Instead, Chloe flung her fridge open, and immediately cursed under her breath.

She had forgotten to go grocery shopping. She had been decidedly distracted. The only food she could spot was some old pasta, globs of mozzarella, some sticks of butter, and another roll of cookie dough.

Chloe impatiently loaded the cheese, butter, and dough into her arms and puttered off to her bedroom, before the voice could get too severe. She dropped herself on her bed, wrinkling her nose as her belly and breasts jiggled seconds after her body had stilled. Shamelessly hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs wide, Chloe grabbed up a stick of butter, unwrapped it, and with a frustrated moan, began to shove it into her opening, her belly heaving, and legs trembling as the butter started to melt as it slid its way through.

It took only moments for her to work through the three other butter sticks, and the fat loaf of cookie dough. By the time she had stuffed them into her, the voice had stopped its griping, so she ate the mozzarella by mouth.

When she was finished, she laid there panting heavily, chest rising and falling, mounds wiggling. Diamonds of skin had begun to appear in her blouse buttons. Fingers trembling slightly, Chloe opened them one by one, allowing her rounded gut to surge through, plump and pressurized as it was.

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