Fat-Assed Highschooler & Parasite Ruination

Author: Tastatura

Description: A high school girl with exaggerated sexual assets comes to suspect that her school's newest ostensibly underage transfer student is not what he appears to be. It turns out that he isn't, and that her soul must be sucked out while her body is creatively repurposed for obese sexual degenerates by a little kid with little ideas.

If you're wondering what that equates to, you should expect something that involves large quantities of backed-up semen and a few forms of brutal intercourse.

Much like any other private highschool, student life within Yuls-Ains Preparatory Academy is dominated by social hierarchies established and maintained by the students themselves. Influenced by factors that range from the wealth of a given student's parents to their physical attractiveness, one's placement within these hierarchies is regularly cited as the 'difference' between a pleasant secondary school experience and a painful one.

Seated amongst the top of the school's latest generation of tiers is Eglite. Born into a family of above average wealth and raised with a disposition ideal for pushing others underneath her, those around her considered her ascent into this position as a given right from her very first day of school.

Those who arrived at this conclusion did not embrace it arbitrarily. On top of her wealth and nature, Eglite Tautas maintained a degree of physical attractiveness that demanded proper recognition. At a modest 5'6'' in height, her size allowed her to blend in well amongst her female peers whilst at the same time projecting a degree of fragile vulnerability towards males. At the same time, the sleek and straight umber brown hair that descended from her skull to her midback colluded with a sharply feminine, purple-eyed visage chilled by finely finished eyebrows to set her apart from those around her as 'special'.

And then there was her frame. As if born in need of a body that might compensate for deficient parentage or some other gay, made-up phrase, Eglite's figure and complexion added insult to the 'injury' of her social standing.

Below a captivating neckline colored the same creamy, bright tan-brown complexion as the rest of her skin, fat-loaded F-Cup breasts sloped out and away from her chest by nearly 8 inches. More so mushy and sac-like than overly taut and stagnant, their engorgement of her uniform's blouse implied a texture akin to a blend of heated dough and buoyant fat. At all times, her waifish upper abdominals sat shielded by them whilst the girlish narrowness of her shoulders and pectorals supplemented their apparent massiveness. Worse still, their squishy wobbliness dictated that even the slightest excess in movement from her set their mass into a malleable slosh that begged to be consumed by the eye.

Had the rest of her body offered the same degree of blatant fertility, the sheer size of her bust may well have lost some of its appeal. Below them, a slim, fatless midsection bled into hips sculpted to a model's definition of fertility. Specifically, whereas her waistline filled in the skirts and dresses that she donned well enough for the eye to make out the flared contours to either side of her frame, the extent to which they did so was kept petite. Nevertheless, Eglite's preference for tight, form-fitting clothing both inside and outside of school provided them with a mature appeal in sharp contrast to the blatant swell of chest.

Below and behind her hipline, slender, almost waifish legs professed their quality via a basketball-scale bubble of buttocks flesh prone to wobbling underneath the short cut of her skirts, and plush, amply padded thighs large enough to be noticed as massive, yet just proportionate enough to the make of her frame to be accepted as a 'fair' expression of genetic capacity.

Simply put, Eglite was without weakness. Having maintained some amount of these physical assets throughout the entirety of her highschool career, disregarding her presence within the halls of the academy was rendered impossible for almost everyone around her…

Everyone save a blonde child completely disconnected from the environment surrounding him.

A week after the beginning of Eglite's third and final year of highschool, an outlier to the world that she was accustomed to become a permanent fixture within her daily life.

The name of this fixture was Nishel Bright. Introduced as a 10-year-old product of grade skipping welcomed into the academy on his own merit, his addition to her homeroom class did not strike her as interesting initially. Between the shortness that made him seem at least a year or two younger and the shaggy mop of blonde hair draped atop his head, the 'air' that he projected felt comparable to a child too far removed from his element to succeed.

In spite of this, she could not bring herself to leave well enough alone. Seeing yet another opportunity to cement her position amongst her peers, she made herself the first (and only) person to introduce themselves to him within one of the gaps between their class periods.

In return, she received an assessment of her character more scathing than any she had endured prior.

"You're really disgusting on the inside, aren't you? You see a child, and the first thing that you think about is using them as a tool?"

"It doesn't matter that much to me, but you shouldn't expect the people around you to tolerate that forever. If you don't learn how to be something more than a sheltered bitch soon, life is going to get hard for you pretty fast, you know?"

"To be clear, I don't want anything to do with you, so stay away from me, alright?"

It was not Nishel's words that struck Eglite so. However embarrassing, the fact that he had spewed them in front of their entire class wasn't an issue either; regardless of what left his lips, playing it off in front of her peers would have been easy for her.

What infuriated her was his confidence and certainty. Undaunted by the boyishness of his own voice, Nishel stated what he believed to be true without a hint of discomfort. He did not mince his words, either. Completely certain of all of his statements, he delivered them as matters of fact instead of conjecture.

On top of this, he outed her. Within a single exchange of words, he pointed out the foundation of her existence and threatened her with a reality capable of punishing her for it.

This more so than anything else was something that she could not forgive. While content to brush off his retort with sweet and acceptant remarks about juvenile prickliness in the moment, Eglite immediately put her mind to the task of somehow humiliating and subjugating Nishel for his actions.

To do this, she observed his surroundings. Watching and waiting for him to create a space for himself throughout the school, she trained her eyes in search of something—anything with which to make his daily life a living hell.

When weeks of observation failed to reap success, she turned her attention towards fabricating suffering all on her own. Being amongst the most well-connected and irresistible of the students of the school, crafting rumors about his behavior amongst her peers and subtly hinting at his 'strangeness' to her male teachers cost her very little in the way of effort.

Inexplicably, these things failed to reap the results that she desired as well. Citing the banality of his interactions with others in the weeks following his arrival, most of her peers proved unwilling to believe things about him arbitrarily. Similarly, the authority figures that she tempted suggested that his strange behavior might be a product of loneliness that would fade as soon as he acquired a few friends.

Eventually, the frequency of her failures forced her to again focus herself on Nishel. Using every resource at her disposal, she progressively stockpiled information about the youth and his daily life with the intention of ruining some aspect of it.

A month's worth of digging availed her first specks of solace since his arrival. Supposedly one of two children in a single-parent household, Eglite reasoned that his academic accomplishments represented an attempt at one day easing the burden that his mother suffered to raise him. Provided backing for her assumption in the fact that he regularly attended scholarship-funded tutoring sessions at the academy several nights a week, the beginnings of a 'picture' that she could ruin took shape within her mind at the same moment that she connected these things.

The icing on the cake was the strangeness surrounding all of it. According to an overweight and off-putting 'source' that she regularly squeezed information out of, Nishel regularly remained within the academy long after the other scholarship students departed. Why he did so was unclear, but in every case, at least one of the night teachers remained present alongside him.

Apparently, all of these teachers were female as well. Whereas a less driven individual may've discounted this as a coincidence, Eglite was all-too-happy to set this fact as the centerpiece for her picture:

At the end of his night lessons, Nishel Bright was engaging in 'something' with only adult women to supervise him. Perhaps something incriminating and perhaps nothing at all, the possibility of destroying him with this information drove her to the unthinkable:

On a night consumed by uncanny darkness, Eglite abandoned the safety of her home for a brisk trek back to Yuls-Ains Academy…

All so that she might humiliate a child in the same way that he had humiliated her.

-

A CLASSROOM— YULS-AINS ACADEMY

"..."

"Theeeere you are. It figures that something like that wouldn't keep you out for good."

"Staying asleep might've been easier for you, but at least we can have a proper talk this way."

"Or, well, whatever your attitude allows for, I guess."

Nudged into consciousness by the sound of a voice too grating for her to ignore, a reflexive fluttering of Eglite's eyelids dragged her psyche from a state of dormancy to complete awareness in an instant. Wrenching her skull from its cheek-set slump across her right shoulder, she whirled through a panicked scan of her surroundings before the sharpening of her vision left her circumstance unambiguous.

She was inside a classroom, and Nishel Bright was standing ahead of her.

"W-Wha...y-you?" Eglite stammered, weakly. "What is this? W-What the fuck am I doing in here?"

"Wha…"

In the midst of her mewled stammers, an influx of memories into the forefront of her mind offered an answer to her question.

Before losing consciousness, she had entered Yuls-Ains academy after making certain that the only people still inside of it were Nishel Bright and his teacher. Once inside, she maneuvered her way through the humid darkness of its interior in search of the pair. Finding no traces of their presence on any of the three floors of the school, her ambition drove her to suppress the fearful fluttering of her heart and descend into the storage areas within the school's basement for a final sweep.

In the midst of her anxiety-inducing trek, she found a light. Surrounded by darkness and what her ears recognized as the wet wriggling of 'something' against the ground, her eyes caught sight of a wavering sheet of white light bleeding out from underneath what appeared to be a supply room door.

Compelled, she crept towards it until her senses confirmed her foremost fear:

All of the wriggling noises were coming from inside it.

Whether enraptured by her desire to find Nishel or her own terror, recognition of this led her to push past the door into the room itself.

Inside, she found something that her mind had since attempted to flush out of her. All that remained of her memories concerning the event was the sight of Nishel, a glassy-eyed woman, and squirming, writhing monstrosities too horrific to have been birthed on the planet Earth.

Try as she might to restore the memories that she had lost, Eglite's mind fought her at every turn. Revulsed nonetheless by what little she recalled, a few seconds of effort flared her temper at the boy who had subjected her to these things—

Whatever she had endured, Nishel represented a target that she could blast all of her discontentment at.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, NISHEL?" she shouted, features tightened into a hateful glare. "You were doing something in the basement! Oh my god—you've always been doing something here, haven't you?"

"This is so FUCKED! I knew you weren't normal right from the moment we met, but this is insane!" she continued. "No one believed me, but now they'll have to! Once I call the cops, you're going to be in such shit for this you little—"

Inclined to supplement her threats with action, Eglite attempted to stand and make her way over to the classroom door at the top right corner of the room. On doing so, she found that her legs were bound to the chair underneath her, and her arms were drawn to a vertical suspension over her head by what appeared to be a pair of halos comprised of the same eerie light she had observed in the school basement.

Seeing these things, her temper flared for a second time.

"Oh, so you went and tied me up, too? Great job, dipshit—now I have something else to tell everyone once the cops get here!" she spat. "My parents are going to notice I'm gone soon, so none of this matters. Once they do, someone will be here, and everyone will finally see what a fucked up little brat you are!"

"S-So, give it up. You may as well let me go right now! Nothing's going to change, s-so the less I'm hurt after this, the better it'll be for you!"

"..."

"...Don't just fucking stand there! Say something you weirdo!"

Urged to speak, Nishel did the exact opposite. Clearing the strides that separated him from Eglite's front, he briefly defaulted to silent observation of her frame before digging his left hand into one of his slacks pockets and pulling something out into suspension ahead of his captive's face.

Not a moment later, an exhalation of relief slipped through his lips.

"Alright, no talking it is." he sighed, grinning. "You actually created a bunch of work for me, so instead of explaining what you saw down there, I'm going to get you to ask me to explain this instead."

"Ready?"

Attentions pushed from Nishel to his hand in short order, Eglite bit into the bait that he provided without recognizing what had come to pass.

Overall, what he had extracted from his pocket filled her with more confusion than it did curiosity. Upon laying eyes on the cardinal-red, golf ball-sized oval pinched between his thumb and index finger, her mind wasted no time in 'normalizing' it as a piece of candy forgotten within the corners of his uniform pocket.

Seeing no reason to be fearful of a stale piece of candy, the concern that had tightened her face was quickly replaced by a confident smirk.

"W-What? You've got candy to go with your stupid little tricks now?" she spat, haughtily. "I-If you think the idea of eating that is supposed to scare me, you're actually retarded. God, brats these days are into the stupidest shit, I swear…"

"F-Fine, though—whatever. I don't have time for this, so go ahead—try to 'scare me' or whatever the fuck it is you're doing so I have something to tell the cops when they get h—"

*sshhhh—grlsh—ssshhhhhh…*

"H-Here?"

In the seconds that Eglite spent speaking, the oval between Nishel's digits began sprouting tendrils. Evidently gummier and more pliant than its appearance had implied, wriggling, plant-root-length growths constituted by its innards perforated its exterior one by one until the oval became indistinguishable from a life-sized bacterium. All the while, the oval's projection of noises akin to a hissing serpent and a fluttering boil of sludge atop a stove professed the process to be something otherworldly—something that a normal child had no business entertaining.

Prompted by biological terror, Eglite accepted the 'argument' that was hissed at her only moments after its presentation. Despite not knowing what it was she was looking at or what Nishel intended to do with it, she arrived at the conclusion that contact with it would do her harm.

Thus, she began to struggle. First with her eyes locked on the oval and later with them focused on the bindings that had pinned her arms, Eglite began wrenching and twisting her torso across the chair behind her like a trapped animal suddenly made aware of its impending demise.

At the sight of this, Nishel broke his seconds-long silence for a chuckle.

"In the future, you should try and listen to your instincts a bit more." he started, grinning. "You could've saved yourself some embarrassment had you waited for your body to react to it. You humans are very good at sensing danger, after all."

"Now..."

Stepping forward from his standing position, Nishel smoothly transitioned up to Eglite's front and lowered the now-indistinguishable oval within his hand down to parity with her face. Progression swathed by the sound of Eglite's torso slamming back against her seat, his arrival saw these noises replaced by a vigorous scratching of chair legs against the classroom floor, and to a lesser extent, a series of desperate grunts from Eglite herself.

Seconds later, a scream from Eglite subverted all of these noises into irrelevance.

"NO! NONONONONO! STAY AWAY, K-KEEP IT THE FUCK AWAY FROM YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" screamed Eglite. "I-IT'S HAS AN EYE IN IT OR SOMETHING—THAT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING. I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU GOT THAT, BUT KEEP IT AWAY FROM ME! I-IF IT TOUCHES ME, I'LL KILL YOU!"

"STAY AWAAAAAAAAAY!!"

Whereas a degree of audible anger could be heard within her voice, fearful desperation could be recognized as the 'core' of all of the outbursts that she produced.

Yet to hear an expression of fear potent enough to move him, Nishel entertained her first handful of outbursts in silence before opting to speak through them.

In her desperation for an 'out', the sound of his voice turned Eglite's screaming into a mixture of grunts and sobs just quiet enough for her to comprehend the words that he produced.

"So, yeah, the human term for this thing is a parasite. It's actually a kind of holy creature that only exists where I'm from, but you probably don't really care about shit like that right now, huh?" Nishel explained, smiling. "It's basically going to invade your body and forcibly expel the contents of your soul so that it can consume your life force instead. If that sounds too complicated, you can think of it as one of those intestine worms things that animals here get. The only difference is that instead of controlling your nutrient intake, the worm will take the place of your brain."

"The thing is, the organisms themselves are really fucking stupid. To compensate for that, they root themselves into the brains of their hosts and do their best to absorb residual energy from the souls that they expel so that they can function." he continued. "With this energy, they learn how to manipulate the body's they inhabit just well enough to be useful. In that sense, they become who they inhabit—or something like that, I don't fucking know."

"As for how that benefits me, it's simple: the species is subservient to beings like me, so since I created it, it'll do what I say."

"Anyway, since you've been so interested in who I am and what I do, I'm going go ahead and show you why you shouldn't have been."

"If you're still alive afterwards, maybe you'll understand why you should have left well enough alone…"

Experienced enough at intimidation to understand the sort of struggle that his words might invite, Nishel used the end of his explanation as a subterfuge for action. Snapping his free hand upwards, he forced Eglite's face into a level position with his own, then squeezed her mouth open with his thumb and index finger.

Try as she might to struggle through these things, Eglite found that she couldn't. Somehow, the strength imposed by Nishel's arm and finger joints superseded what her trapped frame could resist. Quick to realize that escape was impossible for her, the disbelief injected into her mind by his explanation of the parasite led her to put all of her energy into the only defense that she could still manage:

Screaming.

"UUHHHHHNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" lips popped apart and tongue exposed to the open air, the vibrations of her throat were ultimately squandered in an impotent, teary-eyed groan up at the youth ahead of her.

Being herself, some part of Eglite believed that the display might actually move Nishel to show her mercy. Whatever he was, he at least appeared to be a boy—a little one, certainly, but a boy nonetheless.

In life, the boys that she interacted with all showed her compassion. If she asked for something, they provided it to her—even to their own detriment. Denied a reason to believe otherwise, all of her life experience culminated in the idea that escape from her plight would be given to her if she begged for it.

What Nishel provided instead was the parasite. Grinning playfully at the outflow of her tears, a deft stab of his left hand plated the wriggling mass of flesh atop her tongue whilst an upward drive from his right forced her to close her mouth around it.

Subsequently, Eglite's thoughts about what she deserved disappeared from her mind altogether. In an instant, every ounce of her psyche was applied to tracking the sensation of an amorphous mass of flesh moving through her skull. Quickly overcome by the fear and stimulation that accompanied it, the oval's roll up through the back of her throat and into her nasal cavity grit her teeth and rolled her eyes into the peaks of their sockets.

A moment later, the oval swelled. Seemingly aroused by the closeness of its destination, the tendrils that had sprouted from its surface thickened into finger-thick creeping vines whilst the 'core' that constituted them swelled into something more voluminous than it had been prior. Keeping its host in mind all the while, its newly fattened tendrils were pushed out to gooey flourishes from her nostrils (so as to keep her nasal cavity clear), and its core was progressively thinned and squished through the narrow passageways leading up to her brain.

On arrival at its destination, all of its mass reconvened within her skull. In an instant, warm tendrils were plastered across the meat of Eglite's brain in a manner befitting the behavior of a parasite.

As soon as this occurred, Eglite slipped from a state of debilitation into orgasm. Treated to an impression of several large tendrils into several pleasure centers of her brain, internal reflexes hiked her legs up to an outward spread, and pushed her crotch outwards in search of stimulation.

Enjoying these things as a small mercy of her predicament was denied to her. No sooner did her cunt begin oozing syrup against the white fabric of her panties did the stinging vehemence of her experience begin to fade. Little by little, all of the stimulation coursing through her frame was blunted by a numbing haze reticent of a slow loss of consciousness.

However, this was not what was occurring. At the onset of this sensation, a pliant, flesh-scalding length of warmth began wriggling its way through her frame. Seemingly generated out of thin air, the forearm thick blockage writhed its way from a section of her core down through to a menacing slide through her large intestine. Made more and more 'real' for each inch of gut-flesh that it bloated, the thinning of Eglite's consciousness was ultimately offset by the generation of a grating pleasure more potent than anything she had enjoyed prior.

Soon enough, her body sought to expel it. As all 15 inches of the mass rounded the final corner of her innards, pushing it through the succulent, modestly used pudge of her anus was made her body's foremost priority.

In spite of this, what remained of Eglite's mind fought against this urge—

Somehow, what she stood to lose if she didn't remained obvious to her even now.

"D-Don't…"

"Don't let it out…"

"If you do…y-you'll…"

"You'll…"

"You're gonna diiiieeeee ♥!!!"

Needless to say, all of the effort that she invested into holding herself together amounted to an exacerbation of her failure. Mere seconds into attempting to lock her innards, a thunderous chain of convulsions through her cunt drew a waved eruption of cuntsyurp out against the face of her panties. At the sound of the slime's splatter against the ground, a timely move from Nishel peeled the garment's translucent face away from the chubby bloat of her mons such that both her lower lips and anus were exposed to the open air.

Immediately afterwards, she erupted for a second time. Following a brief explosion of life within her eyes, the beginnings of a wrist-wide, innards-moistened dough serpent erupted from the face of Eglite's anus behind a flourish of clear lubrication. Completely white and solid in spite of its slogged appearance, its appearance was immediately recognizable as something foreign to the inner workings of the human body; a thing 'placed' within one's innards as opposed to being generated by them.

After a full three seconds of reflexive squeezing from Eglite's innards, the serpent's entirety was pushed out into an unbecoming splatter against the streaks of cuntsyrup that Eglite had spewed out against the floor. At this, Eglite herself fell limp, and an eerie silence descended over the confines of the classroom.

Elsewhere, this silence proved short-lived. Within the energy that comprised the motionless dough serpent ahead of Eglite's crotch, the voice of Eglite herself spoke out in defiance of the silence surrounding her as soon as she could.

As it turned out, the words that she produced triggered the reappearance of her sight and hearing as well.

"…"

"W-Wha…w-where am I? W-What am I doing on the ground?" she thought to herself. "I was…just a second ago, I was sitting in a chair, right?"

"Y-Yeah, right up there. My body's right up—"

"There…"

So did these words pass through Eglite's lips did her mind wrap itself around the horror of them.

She was looking at herself. From a position of stagnant helplessness inches, Eglite lay in the midst of staring at body whilst cuntsyrup drooled from out from the exposed puffiness of her cunt.

Somehow, she had been separated from herself. The shock that this evoked in her prevented her from recalling how this had come to pass, but in the moment that she recognized it, the person to blame for it stuck out within her mind as a sore thumb begging for relief.

As best as she could, she flung her floor-locked line of sight upwards in search of the blonde youth responsible for her plight.

Soon afterwards, she found him. At the corner of her field of vision, Nishel stood engaged in an expectant stare at the white mass that constituted her soul.

On eye contact with her, he grinned.

"Haha, fuck. Who would've thought that your soul had that kind of substance to it?" he began, chuckling. "I didn't think I'd get the chance, but I should be able to make something interesting out of you now."

"I'm gonna borrow your phone for a bit, but after that, we'll be out of here before you know it." he continued. "In the meantime…"

"You. Pick her up at let's go."

Expectedly, the end of Nishel's address left Eglite on the precipice of a screaming tirade from which his ears might never recover. Ignorant to the fact that her voice was only audible within her own head, her tumble from this peak urged her to put her everything into the explosion in hopes of someone hearing it.

"WHAT DID YOU—!!!!"

Only a word shy of completing her explosion, developments within the classroom choked her useless voice back into silence.

Against all that she desired, her body stood at Nishel's request—

And she smiled.

-

THE BEDROOM OF A SOCIETAL UNDERACHIEVER—1AM

Inside of a room filled to the brim with overstuffed bookshelves, innumerable discarded video game cases, and rectangular platforms dominated by plastic figurines, Nishel Bright stood in the midst of preparing himself for an evening of entertainment. Both hands outstretched into an active fiddle with a tripod-mounted smartphone, he dutifully applied himself to slanting and sliding the mounted camera until the picture that it captured agreed with him.

At this, he dropped himself down from the tips of his toes and turned his line of sight up towards a pair of individuals situated ahead of him.

"'Kay, you can go ahead and do whatever. As long as you don't move too far to the other side of the room, I don't care." he called out, calmly. "I'll be over here playing a game or something—just pretend I'm not here."

At the sound of his tiny benefactor's voice, the portly young man that Nishel addressed succumbed to a needlessly timid tremble prior to pushing himself into the position that he had planned for. Pulling the upright, empty-eyed corpse of Eglite into the center of the room behind him, he dragged her frame down from its standing position by his floor set mattress into a back-first sprawl across its sweat-stained face.

Before any of this, however, he indulged in her. Fresh from investing several minutes into peeling the ample flesh of her frame out of the skirt and hoodie she had arrived in and redressing her into a blatantly sexualized iteration of school-girl uniform belonging to one of his favorite fictional Japanese cartoon characters, a few seconds of indulgence became unavoidable for him.

Fairly stated, there was plenty for him to look at. Below the lifeless placidness of Eglite's facial features, a white and aquamarine-striped summer uniform blouse sat as the only clothing set atop her chest. Cut far too short to properly cover the wobbling protrusion of her bust, its stopping point left all of the flesh below the middle of her knob-fat nipples exposed to the open air. Worse than a tube-top in the sense that her sweat-moistened breasts were free to wobble and bounce as they wished, yet 'better' in that all of the olive-tone flesh above them was covered by fabric, the garment applied a unique depravity to her upper body that sat on the fringe of between indecency and pointlessness.

Below the soft and slender expanse of her abdominals and their indentations, the base of her hips and a handful of inches below it sat clothed by a skirt whose length stopped just past the peak of her thigh sockets, and a pair of white and aquamarine-striped panties. In addition to the eye-catching fertility and sharpness of her waistline, these garments together constituted a juvenile perversion for her lower body. Succinctly, the fact that her skirt was too small to even begin encapsulating her buttocks and thighs rendered the exposure of her lust-soaked panties as a sight far too cock-fattening for the portly young man to look away from.

Unsurprisingly, his gawking at her frame continued even after he finished settling her into position. Enraptured, fresh beads of sweat bled to the surface of his grease-caked forehead, and hearty injections of blood were funneled into the rancid, loaf-wide erection that extended away from the root of his crotch.

Dogged by desires whose solvent lay directly below him, the young man's instincts demanded that he abandon conscious thought and satiate himself.

Impressively, though, he refrained from this. Not quite aroused enough to succumb to his desires, pangs of guilt and suspicion within his heart dropped his frame down to its knees behind Eglite's skull (i.e., such that his line of sight extended down from Eglite's chest down to the tips of her toes) and turned his features over towards the phone-enamored youth that had facilitated his arrival at this point.

Upon making eye contact with him, he spoke.

"A-Are you sure this is okay, Nishel? I-I mean, I don't even know you—or even how you did any of this." he exhaled, wheezily. "I-I'm not gonna get in trouble, am I? Even though she's like a doll, t-this is still Eglite. If I do what I wanna do with her and anyone finds out, my life's over, man."

"Can you at least promise that this isn't some kind of trick?"

Drawn out of his chosen smartphone game only seconds after booting it, Nishel acknowledged his peer's complaints with a roll of his eyes and a hop to his feet.

Upright, he spoke and walked in tandem.

"For fuck sakes, Alvin—nothing bad is going to happen to you. I chose you for this because I happen to know that Eglite was never shy about making fun of you or using you, and because you happened to be the last person she called. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my own reasons for doing this, but that doesn't have anything to do with you enjoying yourself."

"The camera that's over there is to make sure I can show people that Eglite's a useless onahole whenever I want. Like I said, I'll be blurring your face with that software stuff or whatever, so just relax." he continued.

"I'm not going to do any weird gay shit, either. I'd leave the room if I could, but my being here is sort of necessary. For the last time, just pretend that I'm not here and do whatever you want, alright?"

Moving forward so as to gauge whether or not his words would have an effect on Alvin, the doubt that persisted on his face as he arrived adjacent to his mattress space prompted Nishel to supplement his words with action.

Reaching into the pants pocket of his uniform, he extracted a gelatinous, pink-white miniature shaped in mimicry of a 'super-deformed' style that Alvin was likely to recognize from his favorite form of subject matter. Ostensibly featureless, close observation of its indentations and contours revealed facial features and 'clothing' that matched Eglite's typical appearance.

After presenting it, Nishka tossed it down to a flat tumble beside Eglite's skull and took to silence.

A moment later, Eglite's voice graced the confines of Alvin's bedroom for the very first time.

"DON'T YOU DARE YOU FAT PIECE OF SHIT! S-STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BODY!!" screaming out from within her miniature, Eglite's voice was cast into Alvin's ears without any sort of motion from her body's lips or throat.

Outbursts juxtaposed sharply against the subservient simplicity of her features, perception of these things in tandem led Alvin to realize that Nishel words on arrival at his front door were not an exaggeration.

Presently, Eglite's soul and body were separated…

Meaning simply that anyone who managed to get their hands on her could do anything that they wished with her.

"There, believe me now?" Nishel continued, angrily. "In case you can't tell, her soul is in that little squishy thing beside her head. I'm not gonna bother explaining why, but hopefully that'll give you some extra motivation to do what you want. Her body will listen to whatever you tell it to, so you'd be pretty retarded to waste an opportunity like this."

"Anyway, if you bother me again, I'll kill you. Just let me know when you're done."

Suddenly convinced of everything that Nishel had provided for him, the fading of Eglite's voice from Alvin's ears tempted his line of sight back down towards her affectless face and the jellied miniature beside it.

At the sight of her, a hateful sneer charged by over a year of suffering spread across his lips without his realizing it.

"Alright you stuck up BITCH! All of the shit you've done to me and everyone else has finally come back to bite you!" he shouted, tone-inflected by the severity of his grin. "I'M GONNA MASTURBATE WITH YOUR INSIDES UNTIL MY BALLS ARE EMPTY! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU DIE BECAUSE OF IT—"

"UNTIL I SAY SO, YOUR WHOLE BODY IS NOTHING MORE THAN A FAT-BREASTED ONAHOLE FOR MY COCK!!"

So did these words leave Alvin's lips did he plunge downward to realize what they contained. Forgetting about Nishel's presence just as he had asked, he hopped up to a squat supported by the tips of his toes and poised the smegma-mired nose of his erection down to a dead-on point at Eglite's face.

Subsequently, he went to work pleasuring himself—

This whilst formless protests were projected out into the bedroom in complete silence.

-

RECOMPENSE

"NISHEL, NO! MAKE HIM STOP—MAKE HIM STOP MAKE HIM STOP MAKE HIM STOP!"

"His smegma is getting peeled off inside my throat—it's mixing with my spit and it's gonna choke me if he keeps going! T-There are fucking pubes on my cheeks, too—his sweaty crotch is slapping against my cheeks so hard they're getting smeared against it!!"

"COME ON! I-I PROMISE I WON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE ANYMORE, I-I'LL STOP BEING MEAN TO YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE, TOO!"

"JUST MAKE HIM STOP MASTURBATING WITH MY THROAT LIKE THIS!!"

True to his word, Nishel's first act after turning away from Alvin was a reinitiation of Eglite's otherworldly muting. Content to allow Alvin to indulge without her constant screaming, he instead took it upon herself to listen to her pleas to ensure that she felt as hopeless as possible as she was used.

Strictly speaking, this decision was overkill. Though separated from her body, a watered-down version of the stimulation that Alvin fucked into it was transferred to her at all times. On top of this, the sight of herself as her body was fucked and some of the more extraneous stimuli that accompanied it were 'forced' onto her by the position that Nishel had left her miniature at.

As a result of these things, hopelessness choked her right from the beginning of Alvin's ingress. Upon laying eyes on the 13-inch erection that was set to loom ahead of her face and the thumb-wide urethra that bisected its trunk, thoughts as to what it might do to her mouth and throat frightened her into scanning it. Rugged and clay-colored, the clamminess of its flesh and the obese, tendril-like swell of the veins that branched away from its urethra suggested that her esophagus would never be the same if she entertained it. Worse still, the sheet of bulbous, double-layered smegma that consumed the bottom half of its glans and the twines of pubic hair buried into it argued that surviving the experience was not in her body's best interest. Assuming that she did, the sensation of melted cockfilth clinging to her throat would irk her each time she swallowed, and the sweaty pubic hair of a disgusting pervert would somehow end up within her digestive tract.

To her, these things represented a fate worse than death. Thus, when Alvin poised the nose of his erection down towards the plush of her lips and shoveled his crotch inwards to gore her gullet full of his stinking erection's girth, screams for clemency began spilling out of her as fluid through a ruptured pipe.

Nonetheless, her pleas went unheeded. While Nishel did in fact hear her protests—this indicated by the smirk that spread across his face throughout them—he did not acknowledge their contents past this.

Denied any sort of alternative (save giving in to her humiliation entirely), Nishel's silence forced Eglite to protest throughout a steady escalation of her fucking.

Albeit incrementally, this proved extremely difficult for her. Following the haphazard chain of violent, fat-backed plunges that wedged the vascular girth of his shaft down to a hilt within her throat, Alvin put his uncorking of her gullet to immediate use. Stabilizing his moistened palms by settling them into the sweat-peppered meat of her breasts, he began swinging his crotch back and forth along a curved, inches-long slope. Following the same suffocating angle of ingress he had followed with his first thrust, the pendulum metronome he produced repeatedly wrenched inches of his cock back through her esophagus' quivering embrace behind regurgitations of clear vomit, then plunged the full length of his shaft back down to a hilt a moment later.

To say that these thrusts were effective was an understatement. From his position overtop her, digging his cock back and forth through Eglite's face this way made the congested depths of her esophagus that much more pleasurable for him. Per plunge, the mushy, vomit-inundated glut of her esophagus scrubbed the exterior of his shaft with a heated sloppiness that a conscious woman could not hope to produce. Specifically, opening up the same stretches of gutflesh that his member uncorked required that he grind his cock through an orifice in the midst of both regurgitation and attempted rejection of its invader. However, as his plunges were backed by the fat loaded at his gut, conditions that should have squeezed his length into an orgasm were 'reduced' to the creation of a satisfying tightness for his length.

Hooking his erection backwards offered its own set of pleasures. In addition to the choking contractions that her esophagus squeezed along his cocktrunk, every attempt that he made at unholstering inches of his length from her gullet resulted in garish splutters of lubrication following his length out. Constituted by the same clear slop that was displaced from between her lips all throughout his metronome, the arced geysers that burbled out of her lips and nostrils throughout left his crotch and testicles soaked with slime within seconds.

More importantly, though, these outflows hastened the pace at which smegma was melted off of the helm of his shaft. As every drop of slop that left her mouth was first required to squeeze itself around the girth of his cock, brief periods of 'pressure washing' coincided with every split-second retraction of his crotch.

Suffice to say, Alvin was consumed by his masturbation with Eglite's mouthpussy very quickly. Only a minute on from the beginning of his metronome, his dedication to the act of 'breeding' her face worked his clammy features into a state of feverish redness, and caked his body with a sheen of perspiration that somehow rendered the stink of his frame more rancid. Buoyed all the while by the satisfying *SPLORT*(s) and *GLRSH*(s) noises he fucked from her face throughout—these supplemented by the swinging impacts of his soaked ballsac into suffocating splatters beneath her nose—nearly all of his expectations for the act were met, and thereafter exceeded in stellar fashion.

Those that remained were those that concerned him and him alone. Blinded by the catharsis of his plunges, Alvin required two unobstructed minutes of stroking to recall that his desire to violate Eglite was as much a matter of pleasure for him as it was satisfaction.

Finally, after over a year of unobstructed teasing and manipulation, Eglite had been reduced to a position even lower than the one that he inhabited on a daily basis—

Then and there, she was no better than an empty-eyed onahole that could be discarded as soon as one had their fill of it.

"Ha! HAHAHAHA! How does it feel to choke on my stinking cock you stuck up bitch? With how much your throatpussy is twitching and squirming around it, I'd almost think that you liked it, uhhiii!!" bellowing out at his body's first suggestion to do so, Alvin fabricated additional pleasure for himself in the form of a taunt.

"I-If I'm a loser, you must be even fucking worse now! You're lying there snorting the smell of my jizz through my balls while I fuck squirt out of your throat—right now, you're fucking worthless!"

Not yet so aroused as to forget the reality of his situation, Alvin did not waste any time waiting for Eglite to respond to his suggestions. Instead pausing to catch his breath, the next utterance he produced carried a spark of aggressive energy.

"I-I haven't beat off in like a week, s-so I'm not gonna be able to stroke myself with your insides much longer! Don't worry though, I'm not gonna let you off easy!"

"I'M GONNA PUMP YOU FULL OF CUM UNTIL YOU PUKE!"

Already scrambled from watching her body's fucking, Alvin's bellowing dragged Eglite into outright hysteria. Without a means with which to prevent him from making good on his threat, her trapped psyche embraced a loss of control as the best thing that she could do for herself, and more importantly, the sex-addled husk that had once belonged to her.

Thus, with 'eyes' focused on the acceleration of Alvin's thrusts and ears on the splatter-inducing plaps that his masturbation fucked out of her face, she screamed—

Both for herself and for the only person that could actually hear her.

"IYAAAAAA—D-DON'T LET HIM DO IT, NISHKA—HIS CUM IS GONNA END UP INSIDE MY STOMACH. THERE'S GONNA BE TOO MUCH! I-IT'S GONNA SPLATTER OUT ALL OVER THE INSIDE OF MY STOMACH—I-IT'S GONNA MAKE MY MOUTH STINK LIKE HIS BALLS FOR FUCKING WEEKS!!"

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET HIM CUM—I DON'T WANT MY BODY TO GET TURNED INTO A CUM DUMPSTER WHILE IT LOOKS LIKE THIS!"

"I'M BEGGI—"

*BLORTT!*

Much like her last set of outbursts, Eglite's screeching from within her doll failed to bring about the result that she desired. Uniformly ignored by the man squat-fucking her throat and the child capable of stopping him, her seconds of screaming ultimately amounted to a prolonged distraction from the inevitable.

Expectedly, Alvin's final thrust and the impression of body mass that followed wrenched Eglite's soul back into reality. Still loosely connected to the discomfort that his hilt imposed on her body, her focus was dragged back towards the goings-on within her just in time for the beginnings of his orgasm to begin surging out through her esophagus.

The sensation itself was revolting. In the blink of an eye, what felt like a thread of lumpy, overheated porridge burst from the nose of Alvin's length out through to a squirming inundation of the esophagus inches directly ahead of it. As much a spoiled cream as a batter of exotic plaster lump-riddled curd and plaster, its 'flow' through her depths became a sluggish, semi-solid ooze less than a second after its discharge. In spite of this, the sperm cells that it contained felt fatter and livelier than any of the others she could recall gulping down her esophagus.

By acknowledging these qualities, Eglite was made to imagine the reeking glut as a urine-stained, jasmine yellow-white gunk that had no business inside her esophagus or stomach. Simultaneously, though, the continuous regurgitation of chunk-laden strands just like the first out through Alvin's length and the horrid *GLORP* noises that they projected through her body's skull reminded her that she had no say in the matter. Until Alvin saw fit to drag his porcine frame from out of its suffocating hilt of her throat, additional amounts of the chewable grime would be pumped through her innards towards her stomach whether she desired as much or not.

Recognition of this turned Eglite's sobbing revulsion into a sullen anticipation of the end. Incapable of doing anything other than managing the stimulation that coursed through her mind and tracking the compilation of wadded semen streaks within the depths of her innards, she devoted herself to these things in hopes that something resembling respite would worm its way into her body's plight.

Tragically, this, too, proved to be an expression of 'wishful thinking' on her part.

"UHOOOHHH!! I-I'M C-CUMMIN', Eglite!! I-I CAN FEEL YOUR THROAT SLURPING OUT MY CUM!!" Alvin bellowed, facial features tightened by orgasmic bliss. "Y-YOU DON'T GOTTA BE SHY, THOUGH!! I C'N SEE YOUR HIPS TWITCHIN' JUST AS MUCH, SO GO AHEAD AND ENJOY YOURSELF YOU STUPID BITCH—"

"LET'S SEE YOU SQUIRT FROM GETTING YOUR ESOPHAGUS PACKED FULL OF CUM!!"

To reiterate, the 'fun' of fucking Eglite's throat was as much a matter of stimulation for Alvin as it was pleasure. Bolstered by the euphoria of his orgasm, the strenuous bliss attached to the ascent of cockjuice through his length eventually urged him to begin seeking out a more 'effortless' form of satiation from Eglite's body.

After noting reflexive squirming in both her hips and groin—both of which just so happened to accentuate the massively-drenched crotch of her panties—seeing a torrent of lubrication erupt from her folds ended up being his first (and only) suggestion on the subject.

Unbeknownst to him, presentation with the sight was not something that he needed to ask for. Still very much alive in spite of her appearance, all of the biological responses that Eglite's body would've produced whilst inhabited by her soul were facilitated by the parasite within her at a much slower pace. Specifically, as strand after strand of wadded batter sludge was blasted out into a resin-like congestion of her esophagus' depths, the substance's refusal to flow cleanly into her stomach led her innards to respond in the only manner that they knew how to.

Without emoting facially or squealing in indication, Eglite's body regurgitated a significant flourish of discolored cockjuice up around Alvin's length until it began to burble messily from the corners of her lips and the edges of her testicle plugged nostrils. Denied clean outflows by the persistent impression of his crotch, several arced smears of the substance were pushed through heavy dribbles from out of her mouth before descending into stinging smears down along the top half of her face. Worse still, the bloat of his testicles dictated that the majority of the volume that worked its way out of her nostrils was essentially pushed back into her skull.

Wrought from these outflows—or specifically, the sensation of regurgitation that preceded them—was another attempt at 'compensation' by Eglite's frame. Finally overcome by the stimulation that Alvin's seeding imposed, she pushed her hips upwards and outwards and propped her lower body up onto the tips of her toes just in time for an explosion of cuntsyrup to splatter out against the face of her panties.

Heavy enough and prolonged enough to be observed as the flourish of several translucent arcs through the useless fabric of her panties, the substance's discharge drew the musculature of her hips into an appreciative wiggle, and her legs into a desperate fit of trembling. Cumulatively, Eglite's body produced all of the sights that Alvin had hoped for and maintained them for several seconds before the muscular contractions responsible for them subsided.

Still in the midst of expelling his final few burbles of semen, the squirting show produced by Eglite's body caught Alvin in a state just pleasure-starved enough to regard it as a product of his bellowing. Quickly enraptured by the sight of her lubrication squirting out across the fringes of his mattress, the catharsis that he derived drew a bestial grin across his face, and soon enough pulled him into a final set of 'encouraging' thrusts meant to grind every last drop of his orgasm out into Eglite's throat.

Contrastively, watching her body's orgasm and feeling just how gutting it actually was reduced Eglite to the sort of shell-shocked sobbing that another woman might've defaulted to minutes prior.

This time, though, the verbalizations that she produced were solely for herself.

"I-It's everywhere. T-There's as much of this gross asshole's dickjuice on my face as there is inside my stomach. H-He made me puke all over myself like an idiot, but he's still trying to fuck more of his gross cum inside of me..." she mewled. "I-I can't believe my body squirted from it, too. Y-You're not supposed to squirt from drinking cum unless you're some kind of gross bitch that gets off on being abused!"

"B-But that's not me—m-my body isn't doing it on purpose…"

"Is it?"

Disquieting as the possibility of her innate whorishness seemed, Eglite's rumination on the subject became a blessing in disguise for her. Thanks to it, Alvin's tumbling retraction of his cock and the vile backdrafts of semen and mucus wrenched out along with him escaped her attention to a point. The same proved true of her body's lazy regurgitation of additional semen onto her face, and even more fortunately, the gross, pube-smeared state of her profile.

When a mired *PLORP* created by his glans' slippage from between her lips prompted her back into a focused observation of her body, all that remained for her to observe was a slovenly draping of Alvin's cock from the lower fringes of her chin down past her forehead…

For a time, of course.

After a miniature eternity of haggard wheezing from Alvin, the apparent restoration of his frame drew him upright. Compelled to follow his movements so long as her body lay naked and vulnerable around him, Eglite followed his frame through a rise up into another squat, then through a posturing of his front in the direction of her miniature.

Before long, these things amounted to an affirmation of eye contact between them that she would have rather avoided. Ignorant as to what proper eye contact with her constituted, Alvin made certain that he could see the eyes of her miniature before flashing another sweat-framed sneer down at it.

This done, he plunged his right hand down towards her body. Collecting a handful of her sweat-frayed black hair, he yanked her skull up and off of the ground and angled it so that Eglite's sex-gunked face was directed at the miniature as well.

Unsurprisingly, an explanation followed.

"…Y'know, you've been awfully quiet so far, Eglite." he began huskily. "I get that you can't talk, but just fucking a lifeless doll that looks like you isn't much fun."

"Here, let's try this: nod your head if you enjoyed yourself, Eglite."

At the sound of these words, Eglite's subdued temper was reignited all at once. Of the opinion that it was her that Alvin was speaking to, learned habits led her to respond as she would've naturally.

"Go fuck yourself, loser! T-There's no way I got off to that, and I'm not gonna give you th—"

As she spoke, Eglite's body nodded at her miniature. Glassy eyes just slightly less empty than they had been minutes prior, she affirmed Alvin's suggestion whilst pushing the edges of a small smile up to the corner of her lips.

Stunned, Eglite returned to silence as if punched there by Alvin himself.

"Cool, cool! Guess you were a jizz-slurping little whore after all, haha!" chortled Alvin. "Now that I know you can answer questions, let's go with this—"

"If you want me to fuck you properly this time and baste your womb with even more cum than I stuffed into your stomach, nod your head!"

Downtrodden or not, the implications of Alvin's words demanded immediate recognition from Eglite. Turning her attention away from the young man responsible for her suffering, she focused all of her attentions up at her body in the split second that she was provided to do so.

Then she began begging.

"Don't…"

"Don't you fucking dare! You're still me, so you can't!"

"YOU JUST CAN'T!"

Utterances as impotent as ever, Eglite's body nodded her head at Alvin's questions and continued smiling just as she had before.

As a result, yet more of Eglite's fears were realized one after another.

"Guh-haha! Is that so? Well, if you're asking for it…"

"I should probably go ahead and give it you!"

In the wake of another sneering chortle, Alvin snapped from his position puppeteering Eglite's body into an abrupt slide towards the lower half of his mattress. Having dropped Eglite's frame more or less where it had lay prior, all of the space that he required to slip between her legs sat available for his frame well before he arrived.

In position, further orders streamed from his lips in sequence.

"Pick up that doll and put it right underneath your tits, too! That way, you both can enjoy what's about to happen, uwhi!" he barked.

Committed to compliance, Eglite's body did precisely as she was told. Briefly shifting onto her side, she clumsily scooped Eglite's miniature into her right hand and drew it up into back-first contact with her midsection.

In the short few seconds that this required, Alvin settled both of his feet down against the mattress space to either side of her hips. In position, a half-length squat from him poised his turgid erection and the drooling, humidity-loosened sac beneath it for what appeared to be a slanted grass into the goo-lathered pudge of Eglite's lower lips.

Preparations complete, Alvin plunged the bestial span of his palms down into the ample bloat of Eglite's breasts and spoke out for a second time.

"A-Alright! Now wrap your arms around your neck like you really care about me! Show everyone that their perfect goddess would happily trade her dignity to get subjugated by a disgusting cock!" he bellowed. "Do it right before I push everything inside!"

Despite his 'best effort' at contenting himself with reasonable requests, Alvin's expectations for Eglite's body remained just slightly beyond her capacity for compliance. Tempted into immediate action by the sweltering mound of cuntflesh below his cock, the first curved plunge that he produce came several seconds before the ascent of her arms could embrace his neck.

Fortunately, the gooey embrace that greeted his cock throughout his plunge prevented him from noticing the limbs flopping into a loose 'hug' atop his shoulders.

"Guohh! Y-Your pussy is even tighter than your throat, Eglite! I-I dunno if it's all the squirting you've been doing, but it feels even gooier, too!"

"I wasn't gonna put that much effort into this, but now I'm set—"

"We're not stopping until I've flooded your cunt with every drop of cum I've got left in me!"

His innate bias for her steaming innards aside, the quality of Eglite's cunt remained deserving of the adulation he heaped upon it. Right from his glans' spreading impression between the pudge of her lower lips, her vaginal canal greeted his sex-greased member with a perfect blend of choking tightness and suckling invitation. Not yet fucked to a state of looseness capable of facilitating erections as monstrous as his own, but still experienced enough to treat the worn meat of his spire to the sort of needy coiling and scrubbing that men adored, every inch of insertion that he managed sent a tempting ripple of stimulation flowing up his spine.

Were it not for the situation that Nishel had created, the strength of these ripples may well have reduced him to an orgasm before his thrusting metronome began.

Fortunately, Alvin's desire to punish Eglite for her actions just slightly outweighed his desire to baste her insides with his semen. The moment he felt the bloat of his testicles settled down against the base of her cunt—this naturally coming after the fist-wide span of his glans was dug into the exterior of her cervix—he willed himself into a masturbatory gutting of her folds structured with her abuse (and his stimulation) in mind.

Flatly, he committed himself to a mating press. Whilst making certain to keep the sweaty protrusion of his gut set against Eglite's midsection (and the miniature settled there) near constantly, he used his lower body's settlement on the tips of his toes to repeatedly jackhammer the meat of his cock up and down through the skewered depths of her cunt. In particular, he intentionally abandoned any attempts at a proper stroking pattern in exchange for a starved pummeling of her innards with the majority of his cock.

Porcine to a fault, the shape of these thrusts prioritized invasiveness over longevity. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Alvin repeatedly bounced his lower body upwards from his squat to draw a third of his cock out through Eglite's cunt. Curling his hips backwards throughout, each ascent that he produced hooked several inches of his member out of her folds at the behest of the liquorice red suckling of her inner walls.

To quell their fussing, Alvin simply dumped his body mass down onto Eglite's frame. Hooking his hips back inward throughout his descents, he leveraged his bloated mass to swing his member back down to a hilt such that the hairy looseness of his testicles were nosily flogged against the spluttering face of Eglite's cunt. Heavy enough to overwhelm the huddling tightness of her depths whilst at the same time delivering a thudding impact into her body cavity, each one that he produced managed to recreate the stomach-fattening sting ignited at Eglite's midsection following his first hilt.

As soon as the brain-rotting stimulation wrought from the reinsertion of his length faded, he began anew. Leaving hardly a second between his curled squats and hole-ruining descents, he repeatedly punched the meat of his cock back and forth through her folds as a warted, vein-studded battering ram.

Predictably, his reward for these things was intense stimulation. Whilst punching his meat down through her folds, the grind of his meat through her cunt's pudgy slurping teased the exterior of his mast into throbbing convulsions more aggressive than the norm. Following his glans' impacts into the greasy bloat of her cervix, subservient suckles from the donut worked hearty globs of precum out into slovenly splatters right against the back end of her vaginal canal.

Paltry though they seemed, the inches of retraction that he managed through his squats were even more gutting for him. Evidently more broken by his pump-fucking than even he had expected, the extraction of cockflesh through Eglite's depths reduced the entirety of her cunt to a bulbous huddle meant to lock the meat of his shaft in place. Despite failing to accomplish this at every opportunity provided to it, the draining contractions that her folds produced created an environment tight enough to milk Alvin's length of its precum as he wrenched himself backwards.

To say nothing of the copious amounts of lubrication that jetted, oozed, and burbled out against his length throughout these plunges (i.e., the compressed splatters created by his depressions and the wild arcs wrenched out as he retreated), Alvin's metronome created far more stimulation for him than was necessary in practice.

However, this was the point. Already worn from his first stroking effort within Eglite's throat, the beginning of Alvin's ministrations had seen him opt for the creation of a brief and brilliant experience capable of draining his balls dry. This in mind, he chose a thrusting pattern capable of choking his brain with stimulation whilst at the same time brutalizing Eglite's frame as a toy.

Made 'content' with his weighted pumps by the wadded warmth that they funnelled into the root of his cock, whether or not he was successfully tenderizing Eglite's frame stopped mattering to him less than a minute into his metronome.

Incidentally, this point in time was the same one wherein he completed the forgotten half of his purpose.

Thus far subjected to a chain of thrusts that had swelled her midsection with cockflesh to the extent that her bellybutton was made to appear bruised whilst the fat-clogged mass of a large, grossly virile male repeatedly slammed down against her vessel, a minute of suffering proved the extent of what Eglite could take.

Whilst her body was drawn into a cross-eyed stupor that necessitated a tightening of her grasp around Alvin's neck, her mind descended into fits of orgasmic squealing that suggested that it—and not the sweaty, full-bodied frame beneath her—was being fucked by Alvin's cock.

More so than usual, these squeals conveyed a terrified desperation completely contrary to the image that Eglite had maintained several hours prior—

Fortunately, the only person who could hear her had long since deafened himself to the sound of her voice.

"N-No moooooooore m-my pussy's gonna break—m-my inside're squirming so much I 'hant s-stop cummin'..." she mewled, weakly. "I-I don' wanna g-get my w-womb stuffed w-with cockjuice like this! I-If Alvin cums, my body's 'nna get e-even stupider!"

"Sh'toppp—p-please! D-Don't blend up my gluey cunt n'ymore!! ''ll do anythin' else—jus' no moore…"

"I don't wanna get pregnant from some fat loser's stinking cockjuiiiiiicccceee…"

Well aware of her helplessness in spite of her stupefaction, Eglite did not waste any time hoping for her words to amount to something. For as much as it shamed her, adhering to the speed at which Alvin's gut fat rebounded against her miniature and entertaining the crippling pleasure induced from her cervix's battering was somehow more 'comforting' for her than an active struggle against the inevitable.

Albeit for a different set of reasons, her body operated under a similar set of principles. Whereas the expulsion of Eglite's soul had left her frame as little more than a husk, the parasite's continual absorption of her innards' nutrients progressively installed it with a loose understanding of its owner's preferences. As such, separation from the source of these preferences soon counted for very little where its function was concerned.

Pushed towards the same conclusions as her soul, Eglite's body filled her ears with the ceaseless *PLORP-PLORP-PLORP* created by the thudding impacts of Alvin's crotch, and turned her brain's focus towards the boiling heat that had been ignited within her uterus. Finding that these things had stemmed from her cervix's reduction into a squirming punching bag and her ovaries' desire to see her inseminated, these facts soon provided her with a more detailed understanding of her position.

Lubrication was being fucked out of her because of Alvin's cock. When faced with its usage, subservient accommodation of it was more effective for her innards than placidity. Further, the extent of her cooperation would be rewarded with additional stimulation, and a prolonging of the satisfying convulsions that now dominated her core.

With this information, Eglite's body arrived at a conclusion:

Alvin's cock was good, and uselessness was bad.

"Higuuhhhh♥♥." producing the first 'words' to leave Eglite's lips in nearly an hour, Eglite's body spewed an endearing squeal meant for Alvin whilst tightening her arms' grasp around his neck.

Unused to intimacy and woefully unprepared to receive it, the bestial state of Alvin's body processed these things as a physical imperative—

Now more so than ever, all of his cum needed to be squeezed out into Eglite's cunt.

"F-Fuuuack!! That desperate for it, huh?" he bellowed, wearily. "Fine then, I'll give it to you!"

"Milk out all of my cockjuice with your cunt, Eglite!!!"

As these words left his lips, Alvin plunged his cock through a final, cervix-tenting hilt into Eglite's cunt and unclenched the fist he had balled within his psyche at the outset of his metronome.

Without it to bind him, another eruption of discolored semen exploded through his length almost immediately. Beginning with a massively elongated surge of the substance packed to the brim with wasted nutrients, its discharge and subsequent smearing through the depressed face of Eglite's cervix abruptly choked the airspace of his bedroom with a repulsive *GLORP!* reminiscent of a tight descent of sludge through a drain pipe.

Moments later, the sound of Eglite's voice subverted it.

"Igiuuuuuyuuuuu ♥♥!"

Prompted to produce an incoherent squeal by the first thread of a resin-quality glut that was noisily pumped into her core, Eglite's body commemorated the beginning of her seeding with an outburst just barely passable as something that Eglite herself could've produced.

Subsequently, she descended into uselessness. Mental gains overrun by the repeated deluges of melted-clay-semen that were upchucked through her cervix, mindlessly appreciating the spread of warmth throughout her core and the horrid gurgling that accompanied it quickly became the extent of what she could manage whilst conscious.

Without a wealth of prior experience, few women—parasite or otherwise—could have done better. Contained within the first lumpy burst of semen flushed through the loosened mouth of her cervix was a volume of swimmer's sufficient for completely inundating the confines of her uterus. As much a product of the disgusting quality of Alvin's semen as it was the manner in which he fucked it out of himself, its outflow transitioned from a curled caking of her womb's peak with semen to a compilation of semi-solid layers in the space of seconds.

Flesh left pliant by the minutes of fucking that she had endured, the hive-like wriggle of sperm cells within her babymaker induced an immediate loosening of its shape in accommodation of Alvin's nut. Like this, the portly fullness that her womb attained at the end of Alvin's first spurt was maintained throughout the majority that followed. For each forearm length flourish that was squeezed through her cervix, the flesh of her uterus allowed itself to swell as bulbous semen was made to coalesce with bulbous semen within it.

It did not do so under duress, either. At all times, encouraging slurps from her cervix ensured that the longest, most congealed discharges of semen possible were drawn through Alvin's length. Additionally, the engorgement of her womb was kept consistent. Even as the organ was bloated from the size of a dumpy, cavity-flattened softball to that of a melon, an amount of 'give' sufficient for maintaining its sac-like dumpiness was always leftover at the end of a given flourish. Overall, if one did not know any better, one could have mistaken the seamlessness of its plumping with semen for a product of internal transformation.

Expectedly, the cost of these feats was borne by Eglite's body. Long since immune to anything resembling sensory overload, neither the mushy ballooning of her uterus underneath Alvin's gut nor the starved nuzzle of desperate sperm against the openings leading into her fallopian tubes managed to leave her any worse for the wear.

The same could not be said for Eglite's mind. Disarmed by the reality of her seeding right at its outset, the influx of its specifics proved jarring enough for her to ruminate on even after they were watered down by her disconnection from her frame.

For better or worse, all of the mental resources at her disposal were applied to this as well.

"Nuuuuuguuh♥! Cockjuice is splurting inside of m-me—I-It's like my w-womb is getting swelled with smelly t-tapdole sewage!"

"I-It's fucking ruining me—m-my ovaries are gonna get ruined by gross cockjuice!!"

Based solely on the contents of her mewling, one could safely conclude that the continuation of Alvin's orgasm would soon destroy something within her psyche if nothing changed about it.

As it turned out, though, Alvin's desires were contrary to this. While perfectly willing to impose suffering onto Eglite in exchange for additional pleasure, a certain satisfaction that he desired necessitated that he abbreviate his creampie before its completion.

Much like all of the other forms of satisfaction that he desired, Alvin was not shy about reaching out to take it. In deference to the very thing he had worked his sweat-greased musculature to obtain, he dragged his body through a stuttered ascent up and off of its suffocating smother of Eglite's body. Dragging his cock along with him, he allowed his orgasm to continue spewing out inside of her before the extraction of his glans forced him to choke its outflow with his right hand.

Why he suffered through these seconds of discomfort became clear as he dipped the nose of his semen-slogged glans downward.

Evidently, it was a matter of fairness—

As Eglite's womb had consumed the majority of his load, her miniature was owed what remained of it…

Whether Eglite wanted it or not.

"GUHH, D-DON'T WORRY—I-I DIDN'T FORGET YOU, Eglite!" Alvin wheezed. "HERE'S YOUR COCKJUICE YOU ANNOYING BITCH! YOUR CUNT MILKED OUT A TON OF IT, SO YOU SHOULD GET TO ENJOY IT TOO!"

Throughout his bellowing, Alvin stroked his palm back and forth between his shaft's midsection and tip. For each stroke, seemingly semi-solid threads of the steaming sludge he had fucked into Eglite's womb were spewed out into staining streaks across her sweat-peppered midsection. In particular, though, the majority of all of these threads were draped near to, or directly along the miniature figure that sat atop her belly button. Being too small of a target for the threads' entirety, the midsection of nearly a half dozen strands were caked across the miniature's face whilst their tail ends were delivered into skin obscuring splatters directly above and below it.

Where his strands ended up specifically did not matter to Alvin. Satisfied with his effort at the same moment his first thread obscured the face of the miniature at Eglite's stomach, the meaty patchwork of semen that his strokes created across her stomach was simply an added bonus for him.

At the same time, his mindset did not result in his rushing his way through his task. Pump by pump, he painstakingly worked out every glob of semen his balls had to offer until the volume matted atop Eglite's miniature began to threaten parity with the excess that clogged the spread flesh crater between her legs.

Comically, his stalwartness where this was concerned benefitted Eglite as well. By committing to emptying himself, he provided her with time to think...

About herself, her circumstance, and the consequences of her actions thus far.

"N-Not…fair…"

"T-This isn't fucking fair! N-Now both my holes are ruined and I'm gonna have to worry about getting pregnant with this gross loser's kid!" she complained, inner voice strained by fatigue. "IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR! I-I don't deserve this for catching some FUCKING brat doing god knows what! W-Why should I have to lay here covered with semen while my body smiles like a retard?"

"IT'S NOT FAIR, NISHEL! I-I DON'T WANNA BE STUCK LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! I-I DON'T WANNA WATCH MY BODY DO GROSS STUFF LIKE THIS UNTIL IT DIES!"

"Please! I KNOW you can hear me! I-I'll do anything—I-I won't say anything to anyone, a-and I'll…"

"I'll be different from now on! I swear—you can just kill me if you think I'm lying!"

"ANYTHING EXCEPT BEING THIS PIG'S COCKSLEEVE!"

At the very least, Eglite's experiences within her miniature should have firmly impressed the futility of verbal protest into her mind. In spite of this, every word that left her lips after the seeding of her body and a soul was a word directed at the youth who had facilitated these things in the first place.

Unlike her previous protests, however, these words actually amounted to something.

Ears perked by Eglite's first expression of earnest desperation yet, Nishel lowered the smartphone ahead of his face and cast his gaze over towards the pocket of mattress space adorned by Eglite's filth-smeared frame.

At the sight of her, he smirked.

"Anything?"

"Well, okay then. You're probably going to end up wishing you were dead anyway, but that sounds like a tacit agreement to me…"

"Here's hoping that your soul will be half as useful as your body."

Having finally pulled a response out of her captor, the words that Nishel produced and the implications that they carried lost their importance to Eglite.

She had been acknowledged. In comparison to further confirmation for her persistence in a world of silence whose only pass time was watching mutilation of her own body, recognition for her screams—for her very existence—offered her more solace than anything else could…

Even if it was destined to be short-lived.