Chapter 6
Womb Feeder, Jizz Eater?
Bliss. A euphoric, drunken haze of bliss more intense than what I've felt the last few days greets me as soon as I wake up. Like, it's so overpowering, I legit wake up already smiling. Maybe that's because I was super-hot last night and chose to sleep naked, so this super intense body high has been making these sheets feel so fucking good against my skin, like I'm being caressed all over my body. Not only does it feel like I double dosed an opioid and chugged three margaritas, I'm so horny that my body feels tense and hungry for a good fucking from a well-endowed man, not fingers or even the vibrator I desperately want to grab.
Dick. I need real dick. I need dick more than I ever have in my entire life.
Seriously, the urge to get fucked is more overwhelming now than it ever has been in my sexually active years--more overwhelming than it has been since my womb got invaded by this worm.
"Fuck it, I'm going texting my ex," I groan as I stretch.
Chad is an asshole--that's why we broke up a few months ago after he cheated on me the second time--but he's the best lay of my life, and he's hung like a horse. Ever since graduation, whenever I'm feeling alone, I text him, and he always comes over to satisfy me, even if he's seeing someone. Of course, I never know he's in a relationship until after we've already hooked up.
As I'm reaching for my phone, I feel something cold, wet, and gooey between my thighs and against my vulva. Whatever it is makes a sticky, squishy sound below. When I lift the bedsheet, I find a glob of milky, thick syrup pooled between my legs.
Maybe sleeping naked while I'm constantly oozing wasn't the best idea.
Suddenly, the sweetest aroma wafts into my nose from under the sheet.
Wow, that smells almost like warm sugar... Is it the slime that smells like that?
I dip my finger into the cold, thickened syrup between my thighs then I sniff it.
"Holy shit, it is the slime!"
As I'm sucking the sweet, nutty viscousness from my finger, Sable hops up on the bed panting and starts licking my fingers before slobbering my face.
Sweet fucking wow! His tongue feels so good against my skin!
I wrap my arms around him and pull him in to hug him like I do every morning when he greets me, my skin tingling as his fur brushes against me. When the sensation of his fur on my skin gets me too riled up, I gently push him away, pull the covers back over me, and snap for him to get off the bed. Sable backs away, but he doesn't jump off. Nope, he just shoves his snout between my sheet-covered thighs and starts sniffing loudly.
In the corner of my eye, I see a flash of pink between his legs.
Don't tell me that's...
As the thought crosses my mind, he crawls over my legs and his red rocket comes into view right as something clear drips off the tip of it.
Yup... my dog has an erection... There's got to be pheromones or something in this slime because he sniffs my crotch all the time and never gets boners...
The longer I stare at Sable's erection, the more an overwhelming urge to have dick in me overcomes me--not his, obviously, but a human's, because I'm not some depraved weirdo.
My hand finds its way between my legs and my middle finger slips into my tightness while my thumb works my clit.
I need dick... I think I've always needed dick, not fingers...
"Maybe that's why I keep getting so fucking horny," I moan quietly to myself as I climb out of bed, "because the worm is making me aroused so I can have actual sex, not just masturbate..." Sable jumps out of bed then trots behind me on the way to the bedroom door, shoving his nose against my ass before I steer his head away. "You're staying out here, mister," I say to my dog as I nudge him out of the room, closing the door behind him.
It's only after I turned around that I realized I've dripped a slug trail of Uteroboscis slime from my bed to my door.
God damnit,
I think, cupping my hand over my vagina before heading to my walk-in closet.
Aside from my curved, five-inch vibrator, the closest thing I have to an actual dick in my apartment is one of those realistic
squirting
dildos--the kind that comes with a tube and syringe attachment so you can make the sex toy
ejaculate
lube. Or obscene amounts of fake semen, like camgirls tend to do. After Claire took me out to get shitfaced the Friday following my breakup with Chad, I'd drunkenly ordered it online, my rational being, '
oh, hey, I don't have to keep pulling out the dildo to lube it if I get one that can just pump lube into me.
' Funnily enough, I never even used the thing, and now that I'm about to finally unbox it, I don't even need to fill the syringe with lube because my pussy is perpetually slimy.
After clicking on the light in the walk-in closet, I kneel in the middle of the floor and rummage around for the squirting dildo with one hand while the other stays cupped between my legs to keep what's dripping out of me from getting all over the carpet. Seconds later, as I'm moving a shoe box out of the way, my pussy throbs with need. Now, all I can think about is fingering myself to the edge of orgasm and keeping myself there until I can find this girthy dildo and finish myself off with it. The more I think about it, the more I drift off into a trance. The fantasy becomes so vivid, I actually begin to feel the phantom pleasure of my fingers pumping in and out of me. I can even hear the gushy squelching of my sopping hole being pleasured and feel the warm ooze overflowing in my hand.
It's only when an orgasm starts to build that my glazed over, unblinking eyes wander from the boxed dildo I've finally found to my crotch so I can figure out how that's possible without stimulation. That's when I realize that it wasn't a fantasy, I've actually been fingering myself this whole time.
Shit, the carpet,
I think, looking from my slimy hand to the glob of clear sludge pooled between my knees.
When did I even start masturbating?
Even though I'm telling myself to stop so I don't make more of a mess of my carpet, my idle hand continues pleasuring my pussy from the closet all the way to the bed, and I continue doing so while I remove the dildo from the box with one hand. The only reason I get myself to stop is because I desperately need to replace my fingers with this girthy, veiny, eight-inch-long phallus, like, now.
It's almost as though this womb worm's chemical cocktail has me trapped in a hazy, dreamlike trance of sexual heat where I can only spectate while my unconscious desires pilot my body.
"Oh fuck," I moan as the dildo glides into my tightness, filling me and stretching all the way until it bottoms out. After pulling it all the way out and plunging it all the way back in, a wave of sweet release washes over me. "Yes," I moan. "This... This is what I need. Ooh-aaah!"
That's why I feel like I just keep getting hornier and hornier... Because I need to be fucked by a cock--because the parasite needs a something from a cock. Maybe it needs something from a mammal's semen to sustain itself or trigger the next stage of its lifecycle... Or maybe if the Uteroboscis gets cum, it will leave...
I picture that it's Chad fucking me instead of this dildo, and then I imagine him finishing in me like he used to, drawing out the Uteroboscis once and for all. "There's no way I'm letting Chad cum in me," I pant out.
I'm not letting any man ejaculate in me.
Well, then how else are you going to find out if semen is what I need to get this thing out of me, go to a breeder and buy animal semen?
For some reason, the image of Sable pops into my mind, which then makes me think back to the summer after my junior year of college when I did this summer job at the dog breeding kennel where I got him from.
Collecting semen from the dogs so I could evaluate it for motility, concentration, and morphology was a part of my job duties, so it's not like it'd be weird if I were to collect a sample from my dog to use it for the scientific purposes of studying this Uteroboscis... Especially if it might lead to getting this thing out of me.
I look over at the detached syringe and tube on the bed beside me.
I could totally just load the semen sample into the syringe and, after the worm wiggles out of my cervix following an orgasm, I can squirt it into the worm's head with this dildo.
Right before an orgasm strikes, I pull the dildo out and lay there panting while I seriously consider carrying the idea out.
It wouldn't be some weird sexual thing. It'd just be an experiment, and nothing more. A onetime extraction and a one-time insemination. That's it. Best case scenario: the worm leaves your womb. Worse case: you squirt animal semen into your vagina for nothing and you carry the memory with you forever.
"It's not like there aren't people out there who drink bull semen and stuff like that," I whisper to myself as my hand slides the dildo back into me on its own accord.
I visualize myself walking out of the bedroom and grabbing a 100 mL mason jar from the cabinet before kneeling beside Sable. Then, all I'd have to do is hold him gently behind his bulbus glandis while he deposits his semen in the jar, just like I used to do in the lab multiple times a week for an entire summer.
It's only after I
actually
feel Sable's imaginary tail whack me in the face that I snap out of my hypnotic trance and I realize I'm not visualizing the process, I'm actually doing it!
"Wait..." I whisper to myself, removing my hand from behind my dog's knot as I stare in confusion at the twenty or so milliliters of runny, almond milk-looking liquid sloshing around in the mason jar. "What the hell am I doing?" I rise from the kneeling position and hurry back to my room.
How long was I out there? And when the heck did I even get out of bed?