What the Zombies Want

*Please note that it contains themes of non-consent/reluctance. All main characters involved are over the age of 18.

It has been about 6 months since the zombie apocalypse started and I'm nearly out of food. It all felt so surreal back then, watching the events unfolding in front of me on the television in my comfortable air conditioned apartment. A small outbreak of an unknown variant. Linked to well known Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. The zombie fungus. Overtaking the minds of ants, making them do strange things. Apparently this new virus was attacking people. "Easily containable" the president dismissed with a flashy smile. "Just a couple of rabid patients in a high security hospital. I can assure every man, woman and child that they will be safe"

Well now almost every man, woman and child is either dead, dying, or worst of all, undead. They roam the streets, forests, plains, attacking what few healthy people are left. I have no idea what's going on these days with all the radio stations, wifi towers and networks being in disrepair. All I can guess is that the spread of disease is likely world wide at this point. I look around my tiny den situated in the back of an old van at the edge of a small town scrap yard and take note of what megear supplies I have. My location probably isn't the best but I stay in this place for sentimental reasons. It's the hometown where I grew up.

Because the population of this place was so lacking to begin with, when the virus swept through, there really weren't many people to infect. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person alive in this place and I haven't seen a zombie here for months. Surviving on a perishable supply of canned goods and random game shot in the woods on the outskirts of town has proved difficult but I manage. I'm also very fortunate to have a well nearby to collect clean water when I need it. It's a lonely life out here and I go to sleep every night with a gun in my hand but hey, I'm still alive, aren't i?

I sometimes wonder why I haven't been turned yet. Near the start of the apocalypse when everyone was dead or getting infected, I found myself being cornered by what was once a sweet young woman who helped run the local barbers shop. Her eyes were wild and her dirty arms and legs were riddled with thick black veins spider webbing across her skin. The source of her changing, a deep, infected gash on her neck told me that she was too far gone. I gritted my teeth and prepared to shoot her when my gun jammed. Before I had a chance to react, she had thrown herself at me, knocking me off my feet. We struggled for a while on the ground and I finally managed to put a bullet into her head, but not before she bit down on my hand with her tiny teeth.

Terrified, I rushed to the stream in the woods and tried desperately to wash out the wound knowing in my heart that it was probably much too late to do anything but accept my fate. For the next couple of weeks I waited for the infection to begin, for my mind to start slipping away into madness. A month later, I had lost nothing but a couple of kilos of body fat from hunger. Maybe I was just lucky this time. The infection got just about everyone so maybe she hadn't bitten deep enough.

Either way, I've kept a very low profile ever since. Only venturing out during the day time, taking food from the tiny supermarket and keeping an eye out for the zombies. Today as I walk down to the old store to see if there are any tins left that have fallen behind the shelves, I feel a strange tingling in my belly. I grip my gun in my hand and step through the huge broken glass door to the supermarket. It's dark inside as usual but that's not what makes the hairs on the back of my neck raise up. I hear something, deep within the store. I can't quite decide if it's the soft hissing of wind through a gap in the bricks or if it's something more ominous. Against my better judgement, I venture further in. I don't know if it's bravery that draws me forth or a complacent sense of safety with my gun in my hand but I keep going towards the sound.

It's now unmistakable. The murmuring of a voice. My heart leaps for a second. Maybe its a person! Maybe I'm not the only living being around here after all! I creep towards it and it seems to be coming from behind the cashier. As soon as I go around to have a look and introduce myself however, my heart immediately leaps into my throat. It's not a person after all. At least, not any more. I take in the sight of him. Skin rotting, eyes sunken, black veins running along grey flesh. I bring my gun up to shoot but then pause.he looks about 19 and he's hunched up like a scared child murmuring things to himself. He seems so...harmless. In fact, he doesn't even seem to notice me and his eyes remain fixed on his shaking hands. Something brings my arm down and I toss the gun away from me. Why the hell did I just do that?

At the sound of the clattering weapon, he raises his green eyes and looks at me. His face transforms into a huge smile causing a maggot to drop out of the side of his mouth. I want to gag. I want to retrieve my gun but I can't seem to move. I am transfixed by the strange genuinity of his happiness at seeing me. "I've finally found her," he whispers, climbing to his feet and facing me. "My love, my heart, the bearer of the future" Now I'm terrified. Since when could they speak so coherently? I make a leap towards my gun but it's too late. He lunges at me, grabbing me with surprising force and pulls me further into the depths of the dark supermarket. I'm struggling and screaming and trying to locate my gun but he hauls me onwards and tosses me onto the ground a few meters away.

He forces me up against the low rise meat cabinet in the corner all covered in dust and I'm bent over the cold glass. He holds my arms tightly behind my back with his cold hands as I continue to struggle uselessly. My mind is reeling. What's he doing? Is he going to torture me? Bite my neck and rip out my throat? A shiver runs down my spine as images of the girl flash past my consciousness. My heart is beating a million miles per second before I hear the sound of his ragged pants hitting the floor and my blood runs cold. I dare to look behind me to see a horrifying sight in the low light. Underneath his pants he is completely naked with a thick, rotting, maggot infested penis pointing straight up towards me. As I stare in horror, a thick globdule of yellowing pre cum beads at the deep purple head and runs down the shaft to drip off his low hanging ball sack. The sack is impossibly swollen and looks like it's going to bust at any moment, spraying me with foul, blackened, dead sperm and maggots.

He yanks down my pants and underwear with such force that I give a high pitched sob of fright. This disgusting monster means to rape me! I can see on his face, a look of single minded, lust driven determination. When he sees my vagina, he moans and the sound is so full of longing that my heart gives an involuntary twist of desire. Oh god! What's wrong with me? Have I been living alone for too long? He wastes no time in grasping the thick shaft of his penis and bringing the swollen, bloated head to rub against my opening. I suddenly remember to struggle once again but it's pointless now, I'm completely trapped. The head slips for a moment and mashes against my clit causing me to yelp. At this point I'm still resisting but my resolve is fading. It takes him several tries before he finally sinks his thick diseased cock into my soft warm depths, immediately filling me up and stretching me out.

I give a deep groan as I imagine every inch of that hideous thing buried up to the hilt inside me. I can feel the wriggling of the maggots against my walls as they try and squirm away from the hot, living flesh of their new prison. The zombie boy is rasping behind me and I turn to see the bliss written all over his deathly pale face. He then begins to fuck me in earnest, wrapping his skinny arms around my upper body to hold me in place. His hips piston back and forth, dragging his cock in and out of me again and again. My breasts are rubbing over the dusty glass and creating squeaking sounds of friction. I decide it's probably in my best interest to just go with it and pray that it'll all be over soon so I can make my last attempt at escape.

Several minutes go by and he continues. At first, I'm disgusted, wishing he would just kill me instead of drawing out my agony but as time goes on and he builds up a steady, reliable rhythm, it starts to feel bearable. His cock keeps hitting at the right angle and the heat of the friction in my body is beginning to warm his dead flesh. The sound of his bloated heavy balls slapping endlessly against my skin drags me into a quiet stupor. He senses my fading resistance and leans into me, bringing his cold, filthy hands up to cup my breasts. He is moaning and gasping and shuddering against my body as he delivers thrust after thrust after thrust into my depths. Even though my brain keeps screaming no, my instincts can't even tell that anything is amiss. I am disgusted at the way my vagina clamps down on his invading member, squeezing and tugging it back inside me in the hope it will feed it with a hot meal of cum.

My legs finally give up and I collapse against the glass cabinet in defeat but his invading cock in my pussy, his hands clutching my breasts, his hips pressing into me stop me from sliding to the ground. I become nothing but his play doll. A flesh sleeve to release his need. During this whole encounter, i'm trying to figure out why, instead of being mauled to death, im being bent over a meat storage unit and fucked like a flesh light. I catch a look at myself in a broken mirror to the left. My body pushed into submission, the hideous creature having its way with me. I can't help it. The sight of desperation and hopelessness pushes me over the edge in a rush and i cum almost violently. Thrashing around underneath him.

A few more strokes and I feel him starting to tense up. I ready myself for whatever horror is about to be unleashed inside me. His body shakes and he howls in a crazed, throaty cry. With a jerk, he forces me even further into the cabinet and I feel it. The twitching of his rod as he spews inside me. I gaze down at the sight behind me to see thick, putrid black jizz dripping lazily down my legs or splattering onto the floor. With it, maggots. Which means, some must be inside me right now. He continues to hold me tight, injecting me with his load. The black sludge is followed by weeping pus and more wriggling maggots. He then collapses on me and to my dismay, begins to gently caress my skin.

"Mother of the new world" he murmurs softly in my ear, bringing his hands down to my abdomen and softly stroking my goose pimpled flesh. "Mother of my children" Wtf did he just say? My eyes dart around and see my gun lying on the ground nearby. I would try to reach it but my zombie lover seems to have other ideas. With a rough push to the side, he sends me to the floor, his body still pinned on top of me. The next few hours go by in a muggy blur. He forcefully has sex with me again and again. Never slowing, never stopping. I try to slowly drag myself towards my weapon, even if it means bringing his humping body along for the ride. The lips of my vagina squeeze lovingly down on its new lover despite my protesting brain and as I drag myself inch by inch across the ground, I find myself having two more shameful orgasms.

As I'm getting close to reaching for my gun, he finally bites down on my neck. It's as if my body is being flooded with morphine and as I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, lulled by the repetitive rocking of his body on top of mine, I vaguely think about what a crazy way this is for me to die.

-To be continued