Parasite Growth (Futaxfemale, Excessive Cum, Cum Inflation-lots of it, Growth, Giga)

Story by Tosaku No Kishi

Hi all, thefinalman supplied an idea of a woman being infested with parasites, growing a cock from it and then growing into a giant, Godzilla level futa. I wrote it as a very rough one shot, no editing or real thought given to it most of the time. Just lots of growth, lots of inflation and that's about it. Expect no deep plot or characters.

With that in mind: enjoy.

Alien life. It’s a concept people want to believe in despite a lack of proof. Funny how religious fanatics and so-called ‘crazy theorists’ share that little distinction. Until three months ago, when my department was tasked with the monitoring, study and replication of what we could only identify as an alien lifeform. Correction, lifeforms.

They’re tiny, little things. Barely visible to the naked eye when separated, but they have a clear nature of clustering together. A defence mechanism? Or is it just their natural state? Even after so many weeks and sleepless nights spent studying them, I’m only a little closer to understanding their habits. The only thing we discovered that was of alarm, but keen interest, was that they were parasitic as evidenced when we introduced a plant into their container. The lifeforms were quick to burrow into the new organic life and didn’t emerge until after the plant had decayed.

“Morning, Mel,” Sherry, my personal assistant and current intern, greets me cheerfully. She has a hop in her step no matter the day, weather or even mood of those around her. Anyone would think she was a cheerleader with her peppy attitude and appearance. I glance up at her from my cup of coffee. Sherry has chestnut brown hair with a healthy sheen, dimpled cheeks and lips that just seemed made to smile. Her eyes are a warm green and glisten inquisitively.

I prefer not to look at her body for my own self-esteem’s sake, but it’s hard not to when she flaunts it every minute of every day. Sherry’s clothing is barely within the dress code. A low-cut top shows off her daunting cleavage and even hints at her lacy bra underneath. It hugs her tightly as do her pants which look better suited to a day of lounging around, rather than work. Although we haven’t been doing much more than sitting around and watching the alien parasites for any change in their behaviour.

I sigh and answer her, “Good morning, Sherry. Did you sleep well?”

“Yep,” she answers with an almost obnoxious bob of her head, “And you, Mel?”

“I’m your boss, remember?” I say with a groan.

“I know, but it’s boring calling you Miss Stevenson whenever I see you. And ma’am is way too weird.”

“Whatever,” I sigh again and walk through a door into the studying room. Two others are already there, but they’re just auxiliary observers. I used to make it a point to remember their names, but gave up when they kept getting replaced like clockwork. They’re sitting at a control panel with a thick glass window separating them and the small container with the parasites inside.

“Any change?” I ask. The question is little more than a formality at this point. The past week nothing has changed and it doesn’t like it will this week. The aliens sit in their new home, surrounded by bright ivory walls and harsh lights that keep them completely in sight, no escape whatsoever unless the power were to go out. But this is a high-tech facility with backup generators that kick in immediately, so the chances of a total blackout are highly unlikely. I glance around at the thought. I’ve jinxed myself in the past.

“They seem slightly more active than yesterday, but nothing of note,” one observer answers without looking around. I sit down and look over the data with my mind on other things. My washing machine broke a couple of days ago, so I need to replace that, I have a few bills to pay off and my clothes are starting to show their age. So many things to do, but so little time. As I went to look away I noticed a slight irregularity. Above me, the lights flicker and soon die.

“Fuck,” I wait for the backup generators to come into effect, but no such luck. I hear the others panicking and more than one chair squealing against the floor as its occupant hurriedly stands. My eyes soon adjust and my phone rings. I pull it out and answer the caller.

“Secure the subject by any means necessary,” is all that I receive before the line is disconnected. I sigh and stand up carefully.

“Okay everyone, head to the generators, see if you can’t help get things running again. Sherry, you stay here in case it’s over quickly. I’ll be in the other room making sure nothing happens to the subject. Got it?” Everyone mobilises immediately and take off to do as I said. The doors are made to open au

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