The Parasite, Part 4 - Female Version
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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. Chloes belly grows and grows as the parasite swells in consequence. Chloes 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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Chloe tried her best to compensate at work for her frequent breaks and the voices continual demands. During her temporary reprieves from the voice, she put in bursts of effort so not to fall behind. Chloe also found herself staying late at the bank more often than not, volunteering to balance out the registers, participate in cleanup, and supervise the evening vault checks with the security team. She hoped that it showed a general picture of composure and attentiveness rather than the fluster and panic that she was truly experiencing.
Chloes efforts seemed to backfire, however. Apromotion? she said in astonishment. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Ive noticed all the hard work youve been putting in lately, said her boss, Peter, who was seated opposite her behind his broad mahogany desk. And youve always been frank about your aspirations to become a banker. I think its time. Peter reached out, offering his hand.
Ironically enough, this was the worst time that her promotion could have come through. Despite it, Chloe numbly reached out and accepted the handshake. Her knuckles rubbed together as Peter gripped her hand in what he probably assumed to be a confident manner, but just turned out being an unpleasant experience. He gave her hand a firm shake and let go.
We already moved you into Jims old office.
Oh right, Chloe managed.
Keep up the good work. Peter gave a curt nod, and Chloe climbed out of her chair, knowing that the meeting was over.
Rather than checking out her inherited office, Chloe felt her body carrying her outside. She walked down the sidewalk into an alcove on the side of the building that was surrounded by hedges intended to hide some pipes from view. Her coworker, Parker, was there, taking a cigarette break. Chloe leaned on the wall and stared blankly at the way her rounded belly bloated out over the waistband of her pants making her look as though she was six months with child. It wouldnt be long before the voice was active again.
Smoke? said Parker, holding out his box of cigarettes.
Um no thanks, said Chloe. She didnt mention how the last time she had indulged in the occasional habit had resulted in the voice screaming in protest, causing her head to feel like it might split in two.
She took a few more deep breaths of the cool air, before pushing herself off the wall and going back inside.
Over the next few days, Chloe was immersed in client meetings as she slowly adapted to her increase in responsibilities. The voice was keener than ever, and Chloe was reluctantly relieved to find that having her own desk offered the added benefit of discretion when the voice began its frequent demands.
Her belly was low, plump, and round, squishing against her lap when she sat down. Sometimes Chloe could feel her coworkers staring at her increasingly taut shirts and blouses, though they proved too polite to inquire about her rapid weight gain.
Her breasts had gotten very bloated and full. Uncomfortable and tingly. Lately they felt sore, and her nipples were positively aching.
She was growing and growing, but doing her best to adapt to her unusual circumstances.
One morning Chloe was hosting a client breakfast in one of the meeting rooms at the bank. She was wearing a pencil skirt, the waist jammed down, to make way for her rounded abdomen. It was uncomfortable, but not enough to distract her from her work duties; she wanted to get the meeting over with quickly. She ran her hand over her blouse. It was a newer purchase, but already quite tight at her chest and stomach. She hated how evident it made her bloated profile the way it was tucked into her skirt, though the alternative was the risk of her belly peeking out under the hem during her movements about the room.
She just hoped it wasnt too obvious that she wasnt wearing a bra. Her breasts had rapidly surged to D-cups and had outgrown all her bras. The supportive wear had become uncomfortable anyway, her breasts far too tender now to tolerate being compressed in the slightest. Her mounds were continuously sweaty, nipples hard and swollen and almost unnaturally erect. She was sure that they stuck out in the shirt, where they rubbed rousingly on the restrictive cotton. She just hoped that the customers were too polite to take notice.
Some of the clients seemed to think she was pregnant, as evidenced by Ms. Greene inquiring about how far along Chloe was. Chloe blushed and pretended not to understand the question. She quickly passed out leaflets and started the projector, before going over the benefits of varying business accounts.
As Chloe presented, the clients munched on eggs, bacon, bagels, cream cheese, donuts, sausages, fruits, and a variety of other delicious breakfast foods on an elaborate spread in the center of the meeting table.
Chloe tried not to pay the food any mind, though she could feel her innards beginning to thrum, as though agitated. She did her best to ignore it, and continued the presentation, more hurriedly.
Hungry the voice said, finally.
It was a new word in its vocabulary, and spoken in a rather elegant, possibly even female voice. Chloe was so stunned, she stopped mid-sentence. When Mr. Cortez cleared his throat in the otherwise silent room, Chloe immediately regained herself, and tried to remember where she had left off. So, uhm, in conclusion, Id like to welcome you to explore the lucrative investment options offered to our more loyal customers, such as yourself. Any questions? She hoped there would be no questions. To her dismay, Mrs. Rivington raised her hand.
Hungry must eat You. Must. Eat
After barely hearing Mrs. Rivingtons query, Chloe rambled on, hoping that she was somehow addressing the question. She could feel the coldness beginning to trickle down her spine, slow and steady. Her mind was throbbing. She needed to wrap this up.
Since there are no more inquiries, said Chloe, blatantly ignoring the clients who did look like they had something to say, I would like to thank you all for coming. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.
As the clients filtered out of the room, taking their time, Chloe shook their hands one by one, and kept to monosyllabic responses when they tried to start conversation with her.
Need food. Need food NOW!
When the last client was finally gone, Chloe was trembling. She had snacks in her office. She just needed to get there.
Chloe made for the door, but a sharp pain shot through her skull, making her reel slightly. She couldnt walk through the bank in such a sorry state.
Instead Chloe dizzily closed the blinds and locked the door. She staggered to the table, hoping there was something to salvage, at least until she could get back to her office and the cover of her desk.
EAT!!!
Chloe shuddered, and blinked a few times. She was stunned that there was nothing left of the breakfast spread. Well, nothing, except for an ear of corn that seemed more of a decorative display than something intended to eat for breakfast.
Just looking at the uncut corn made her wince, but Chloe grabbed it up, desperate by then. She collapsed to her knees and dropped to her back on the uncomfortable rug, partially shielded by the meeting table. She drew her knees up.
EAT EAT MUST EAT
Chloe cupped one of her breasts, groaning at how full it felt, both mounds now pulling hard on her shirt buttons due to her position supine there on the ground. With her free hand, she desperately undid her skirt, slipped her hand into her panties, and stroked herself. To her relief she was already wet. Was she getting off on this? Another shudder accompanied the ice cold pain twisting at her insides.
MUST MUST EAT NOW
The voices little eloquence was gone in lieu of a pressing urgency. Chloes thighs trembled as she wigged out of her panties, her vision going in and out from the explosive pains reverberating in her head. She slid the corns tapered end to her entrance, squeezed her eyes shut, and pushed it in.
Despite seeming decorative, the corn was cooked to her relief, which was more than she could have hoped for.
Chloe groaned quietly as she pushed harder, feeling herself stretch painfully, until her eyes began to tear. She rocked her hips compulsively as the corn pushed farther and farther through her opening. Soon her fingers had dipped through her labia, and the end of the corn disappeared, as food usually did, slipping inside her, as though being sucked by some internal force.
Good the voice praised. Good
Chloe lay there gasping, holding her belly, which felt congruently firm. She could swear she looked seven months pregnant by then. She remained sprawled there, legs spread and groin seeping. She jerked at the sound of a knock on the door.
Chloe? Do you need any help with clean-up? her coworker, Frank, called. He rattled the doorknob.
No! Chloe gasped out, scrambling to fix her skirt. She forced herself back to her feet, hastily tidied up the table, and opened the door. It was only when she returned to her office that she noticed that the stretched fabric between her blouse buttons had been spread to reveal the plump flesh within.
