The Parasite Farm

[Authors Note]

Ever get a couple of chapters into a story and realise it's not for you? Then it's back to the toil of raking through the heap, searching for that nugget of gold. In this slot before chapter one begins, I'm going to set expectations and maybe save you some time. Read this and accept mild spoilers, or scroll down to the beginning, as you wish.

This is a relatively mild, low-action journey following our MC as she is introduced to a world she never knew she was born for. There are no cliffhangers or dramatic plot twists. The surprise is that the world the MC is entering is actually as promised. Drastic changes in the MC's self-identity can be jarring to read in chapter three. It mellows in time.

Chapters 1 to 5 represent a single, coherent tale of around 35K words. This part is complete and will be posted sequentially. The following chapters, six onwards, are self-contained adventures in the world I create here. They involve more action and less worldbuilding. More lewdness too. At no point will I leave the reader hanging, waiting days or weeks for another snippet of a story.

UK English is used. Smelled becomes smelt, ass becomes arse, and so on. Oxford commas for the win. Typos found and noted in the comments will be joyously received.

Imperial and metric are mixed to whatever best fits the prose. Measurements are not so important here. It's not a blueprint for a battle cruiser. A couple of centimetres is about an inch. Two metres, or six-foot-six, is a tall person.

It's science fiction with fantasy people reacting in fantasy ways to fantasy scenarios with fantasy feelings. I made it all up for you to enjoy. :-)

This is my complete tag list for chapters 1 to 5, with annotations:

- Theme-level tags

Science-fiction and Fantasy

Parasites. Tentacles. Mind Control. Wet and Messy

Female protagonist: weak to strong

- Major tags

Consent, willing, body modification, transformation, nudity, nude world

Gore (brief and low on details--Ch.2 only)

BDSM (restraint only. No whips, chains, etc.)

Gender bending, M2F. (Not experienced directly by the MC but common in-world.)

Aliens, slime and mud, lesbian, F/F, feminisation, anal play, fisting, breeding (non-human)

- Minor tags (for content warning and for completeness.)

Squick, fetish, non-consent (Ch. 1 only), watersports, scat (non-faecal), F/M, exhibitionism, soulmates, incest (sibling, mother/daughter), dystopian/utopian (as per reader's mental wiring)

-rare, suggested or happening elsewhere

Cyberpunk (not explored but the cities of this world would fit well), Death

Chapter 1

Tilly and Max don't rescue the slaves

Tilly dragged her foot another step, squinting her eyes to see through the cloud of dust she'd just kicked up. She reached out blindly for the jagged rock wall they'd been following, seeking balance; another broken nail her reward. Stamping a sore foot in frustration raised yet more dust. Never had she been more tired and exhausted.

The light was fading, and they needed to push on. They were so close and going back would be impossible in the dark. Her heavy, poorly fitting armour exacerbated the oppressive heat. The ship had them land far from the target, and they'd had to infiltrate on foot. The dry, rocky terrain was maze-like and difficult to navigate, and they kept needing to backtrack and find a new route to discover the slaving facility. Max had only compounded problems by bitching and whining the whole way. She wished she hadn't brought him. At least his hefty cock had relieved her boredom on the weeklong, cramped shuttle trip here.

To compound matters, their drone had died. Probably the dust. She had a little footage saved, even though the live streaming had not been able to connect. Fucking Max. Tilly guessed he'd done something dumb and fucked it up. At least he'd been there to lug the extra gear. Only partially useless deadweight. Promises of a blowjob kept him moving. Not that she'd ever deliver.

A friend of her father's had tipped them off to the existence of this place. They'd bumped into him coming out of class one evening. He looked troubled and nervous and spilt the beans with little prodding. Xactos was a behemoth pharmaceutical and energy conglomerate operating across the galactic spur. Everyone knew the name and used their products. The guy said he'd heard rumours they were using forced human test subjects abducted from megacities to speed development of new drugs. The remote planet, Brinkus 3 Minor, hosted their clandestine operation. Given the size of Xactos, any legal challenge was impossible. Their lawyers were the best money could buy. They paid the wages of law enforcement across a wide swath of federation-controlled space; bringing criminal proceedings was out too.

Tilly and Max had dug into these rumours after getting home that night. It seemed the guy was onto something, even if Max was a little dubious. Fucking coward. She soon brought him in line. Tilly pushed her rebel freedom fighter persona in everyone's face, much to her wealthy family's dismay. Max, the son of her father's business partner, was equally troublesome, though for different reasons. He was lazy and stupid and fucking useless and a bunch of other things Tilly would gladly list.

They were both outcasts, dumped together for much of their upbringing. Tilly tolerated the dimwitted idiot because he'd filled out so nicely. Handsome, muscular, well-endowed, and completely unable to challenge her superior intellect. She knew she was blessed in so many ways, and she enjoyed using her looks and physique to manipulate the simpleton... to manipulate everybody. It was a useful way to keep him on board as a lackey with her various schemes.

It took a few hours of planning; their previous goals of a long pilgrimage to Earth were cancelled. Tilly would do what nobody else would or could. She'd raid the remote facility, rescue the poor slaves, blow the case wide open and receive her long-overdue praise and recognition. Max's father was happy to lend them a new prototype fast vessel for the trip, ostensibly to visit a holiday resort to celebrate finishing school and moving on to a life of leisure. They were both nineteen now and it was high time she left to go live the high life. Guns and armour came with the vessel, which flew itself; no training needed. This was Daddy's line of work after all. Neither Max nor Tilly had managed to pass any exams. It was with some relief that the pair avoided qualifying for going into the family business. They had younger siblings for that shit.

Tilly took a relieved breath of dusty, dry air. The sharp, twisting spires of rock they'd struggled through for many hours gave way to a wide-open area. Blocky buildings and vast, black ecodomes proliferated beyond, sprawling over the horizon. Their first challenge would be the security fence. She smiled to herself as she assessed where to cut their way through. Their fortunes had changed. Right ahead of them, one of the fence panels swung loosely, despite the still air. Security cameras on posts along the fence either hung limply, dead, or pointed another way. This was easy. Obviously, Xactos had become complacent; the rumours were true. Taking a swig of lukewarm water, Tilly cleared her dry throat and explained the plan in simple words to her crappy sidekick, Max.

In the last of the day's light, they rushed forward, wriggling through the hole in the fence and crossing the short distance to an abandoned, windowless outbuilding. On the side was a doorway, and Tilly thanked the stars her luck was holding; it was not just unlocked but sat ajar. Together, they pushed into the darkness beyond, pistols drawn, ready for anything.

"About time!" A male voice echoed through the darkness.

At that, their world was turned upside down. Tilly was blinded by bright lights. Powerful hands grabbed and disarmed her. Max squealed. Not to be outdone, she lashed out, her small fists bouncing off broad armoured chests, her wild kicks caught and subdued with martial precision. It had been a trap. They were completely outclassed. That didn't stop Tilly, who writhed and fought with everything she had.

"Fuck it, guys; she'll hurt herself. Stun her." A commanding female voice boomed through the internal space. Tilly felt cold metal press against her neck. Her world went dark.

***

The first thing Tilly became aware of was her breathing; the air smelt sanitary, like a hospital. Then the cool, padded surface beneath her. Then Max's weak, hiccupping sobs. Finally, opening her eyes revealed a plain, well-lit room. She tried to sit up, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Max paused briefly to glare at her accusingly. He might have a point, but fuck him. She'd get them out of this. Then she noticed that Max sat on the floor, legs spread, naked with a white-padded steel collar on his neck. As her senses slowly returned, she realised she was naked and collared too. A rustling sound behind her caught her attention.

Over her shoulder, she saw an armoured guard. The guy finished up something on the tablet computer he held before standing and addressing them.

"Please follow me to decontamination. There are proper beds there, and you can rest up." He politely requested.

Tilly was too tired to argue and Max too pathetic. The fact that the guard had the privilege of seeing her naked and had not even ogled her rankled. They both got shakily to their feet, doing their best to cover their exposed parts, and followed the guard out of the room. A female guard dropped in behind them as they proceeded at a thankfully slow pace down long, clean, white corridors.

After ten minutes or so, Tilly was too dazed to be sure; the two hapless freedom fighters found themselves brought into a large, pink, padded room. There was a raised bench on either side that could be used as a bed or seating and a second door at the far end. The first guard spoke up.

"You will remain here while the decontamination process works. Sustenance comes from that tube on the wall there." From a small fleshy hole in the padded wall hung a flaccid meaty tube. Tilly's brain could barely compute what she saw before the guard continued.

"Bodily waste functions are performed by pushing your butt into the ring there. Please use it. Failure to do so means a full washdown of the pen, and you will not be removed for this process. I understand it is not a pleasant experience." Tilly's mind, still reeling, struggled with what she saw. Opposite the feeding tube was a large... 'sphincter' was the only term that came to mind, nestled at a suitable height in the wall. She was supposed to push her arse in there? Not fucking happening.

"Showers are twice a day," the guard continued, unphased. "Two beeps will sound before the showers begin. We recommend standing in the middle of the room, arms spread, for the best effect. But you do you. I don't care." He looked down at his computer, seemingly to check if he had covered everything.

"Lastly, you'll receive daily visits as we monitor your progress. That's it; enjoy your stay."

Tilly felt her anger rising at this lowlife's impertinence.

"We'll be out of here before the end of the day!" She shouted at the guard, who was turning to leave. "Do you know who our parents are? I'll have this place closed down and you all jailed for this!" Her tirade might have continued a little longer; Tilly was so angry she couldn't remember.

The guard looked down at his computer again. Tilly hoped to confirm the veracity of her story.

"I doubt it, girl," he replied calmly. "You see, your families paid a lot for us to take you. The ship you brought is part payment. You work here now. Your fathers believe this is the only option for you to do something useful with your lives. Think about it. Good day." And with that, the two guards turned and left. Tilly could hear their laughter as the door closed along with the muffled phrase, "Stuck-up bitch."

That couldn't be true--that they'd be disposed of so readily. However, the more she thought about it, the more it resonated. They were an embarrassment to their parents, and they'd been set up so easily. They'd even delivered the payment themselves. Tilly fell sideways on the bed and curled into a ball. How would she get out of this? Her daddy and his money were her only leverage. Without them, she was as powerless as... as most of humanity. As she lay there, tears silently streaking her face, she had to face up to another reality. Her carefully crafted image of a rebellious freedom fighter was exactly that. An image to annoy Daddy.

Or perhaps to get his attention. He was always working. Her relationship with her mother had soured throughout her teens. All they ever did was spit venom at each other. That fucking cow.

Right now, she would give up the facade just to be home. Being a freedom fighter meant making sacrifices she never would. She never learnt to fight or understand the plight of desperate people. She didn't care. Fuck.

At some point she must've fallen asleep because she awoke to Max's presence nearby. He was muttering to himself. Tilly looked down, just beyond the foot of the bed she lay on. Max had the feeding tube in hand.

"You're not actually thinking of using that... thing, are you?" She disdained.

"Thirsty. Do you see a better option, oh wise woman?" Tilly was surprised by the sass. That was unlike Max. She realised he'd lost his reverence for her. They were fucked, and he knew it. He would just do as they told him; she still had some fight left. Tilly confirmed both doors were locked, then watched as Max sought something for his empty stomach.

He slowly lifted the fleshy tentacle and took a tentative lick. Judging from his raised eyebrows and slight smile, the taste was not bad. Slowly, he wrapped his lips around the end, and his cheeks caved. In response, the tentacle thickened, and the next thing Tilly knew, Max was gagging on a thick white goop that had briefly hosed his face, his mouth not being able to contain the volume.

Tilly choked down a derisive snort of pleasure at the idiot's misfortune; however, to her surprise, he persevered. It took ten minutes for him to work out and build up the courage to get some food. The trick Max had established was to swallow the tentacle before it disgorged its load. With two good loads in him, he retreated to the bed on the other side of the room and curled up to sleep. She soon joined him in slumber from her side of the room.

The next time Tilly woke, it was to Max's groans. He lay curled up, clutching his guts. The lighting in the room had dimmed, though she could still see his silhouette.

"Max, you okay?" She called over.

"Nngg. Trapped. Gas. Think." Max managed to get out.

"It'll be that gloop you got fed, Max. Try the hole in the wall."

"You. First."

"Hell no. I'd rather die." At that, Tilly stood on legs that had recovered from whatever they had knocked her out with. She had her strength back. However, no amount of heaving, bashing, or swearing would open the doors. The handles felt welded. There was no movement at all in them. She walked the walls looking for weaknesses or hidden openings. There was nothing bar the feeding tube and toilet.

Tilly huffed before demonstrably sitting back on her bed. Time passed. And another couple of sessions of Tilly trying to escape. A few hours later, and the lights brightened. Two loud beeps shook the room. Seconds later, soapy water rained from the ceiling. There was no escape. The liquid mist seemed to float on currents of air, carried into every nook and cranny of the pair. It was difficult not to breathe it in. After a few minutes of this, a short, intense blast of cold water followed to wash away the suds. All the evidence of the shower soaked away into the padded surfaces, leaving two bedraggled posh kids sitting, stunned, on the sides of their beds.

"Fuck this." Shouted the dripping girl before storming around the room, making another futile attempt at escape. She was soon sitting back on the edge of her bed, avoiding both eye contact with Max and catching a glimpse of the crazy, unnerving sphincter toilet. Another hour passed. Well, what felt like an hour. It was probably closer to ten minutes. And then the door opened. The second door, opposite where they'd entered.

Tilly, suddenly feeling naked, vulnerable, and exposed, instinctively closed her legs and drew her knees up to her chest, covering her chest and crotch. Two scarred, scary-looking armed guards came in. Both female and much older than the two yesterday. They were closely followed by two giggling, totally unashamed naked girls with collars that matched Tilly and Max's, except they were padded in pink, not white. Their glistening, oily skin caught the light, showing their generous, nubile bodies delightfully. Long purple hair suited their collars and exaggerated their sisterly appearance. They were the complete antithesis of the rugged military guards.

"Hello, people!" The girl on the right happily chimed. "How was your first night?" She focused in on the two sour, dripping faces unamusedly staring back at her; the rehearsed part of her spiel was instantly trashed.

"Oh, look at you two! For the morning shower, stand in the middle of the pen, arms spread, like this." At that, the girl, whom Tilly begrudgingly accepted was very pretty, walked to the middle and demonstrated with a little twirl to finish.

"If you don't, the soap gets blown in your eyes, the rinse is cold, and there's no blow-dry, yes?"

Tilly grunted, and Max nodded. The girl sighed and tapped something on the screen of the tablet she gripped. Behind her, a bench rose, and both girls sat as if synchronised. The soldiers took point, one standing on each side of the pair. Tilly grinned, eyeing the computer. That was her ticket out of here. She just had to get to it. The soldiers were the issue. Her eyes met the one on the left, who smiled menacingly back, her gun held loosely as if daring Tilly to have a go. This was clearly not their first rodeo. The plan was busted on arrival.

The two girls peered at the screen clutched between them, silently pointing out salient details, before the previously silent one spoke.

"Do you know what we do here?" She asked in a cute, high-pitched voice. While Max simply shook his head, Tilly had plenty to say on the subject.

"You steal people to run illegal drug-testing programs on them. This is a big slavery operation." All four newcomers laughed.

"Thought not," the questioner replied. "That is what you were told to trick you into coming here. All the evidence you found was planted for you to find by your family. Xactos has a rock-solid case. You were caught trespassing and heavily armed. Your intent was clear. Now you are detained. Owned by Xactos with no human rights, according to the law of this planetary system. All sides will agree you did something monumentally stupid and dangerous and need to face the consequences. Case closed.

"To be honest, most of the rich idiots we get were tricked by their siblings to minimise inheritance dilution. However, you are rare. It is your parents that see this as the only option for you both. That must be tough."

Max simply hung his head while Tilly glared angrily, the soldiers' guns no longer so loosely held. The two girls ignored it all, the sweet, high-pitched voice carrying on, now reading from her screen.

"This is a farm. We do farming. Very special farming, specifically in this department: xeno parasites. Parasites that Xactos' research teams have sourced from across the galaxy for their very specific properties. Drugs produced from these creatures save hundreds of millions of lives every year. They also produce some of the rarest and most expensive treatments known.

"In order to breed parasites, you need hosts. And to maximise yields, you need the perfect host. Out of three hundred and thirty-eight parasitic species farmed here, the highly malleable mind of the human makes us a great host for over a quarter of them and good enough for another quarter. Humans evolved on Earth, where the powerful organisms we farm don't exist and hence we have no natural resistance. Additionally, large numbers of humans have an ideal nature for hosting our parasites. There is one major reason humans are preferred, though: there's an abundant source of willing volunteers so there's no need for an expensive host breeding program.