The Woman in Question

by comfurtable1

Tags: #aliens #fantasy #microfiction #possession #sub:female #bondage #brain_drain #parasite

An alien parasite latches onto a jogger in the lonely, uninhabited sector of the park’s trail. Can the girl escape before it’s too late?

Synopsis - A female jogger encounters something nearly indescribable on her usual running route, but what exactly does it want from her?

Kinks used: Possession and bondage

On a cool, silent autumn evening, she held her form and speed through the winding, wooden path. Three sounds echoed off each other in harmony; her running shoes landing on the pavement below, the rustling of colorful leaves yet to fall in the trees above, and her steady, confident breaths. The musical tones ended abruptly when something launched out at her. Something so disturbing, yet beautiful and soft. Something identified her as a suitable match, but for what?

The female human in peril attempted to sound the alarm her race had easy access to, but the creature came with a plan. Already the runner experienced some sort of arm draped tightly across her lower face preventing a call. The following struggle to free her noisemaker proved useless as well, as the assaulting life form wrapped her wrists together behind her back.

The individual, whatever it may actually be, was no taller than her torso, but could easily shift to wrap around her with length to spare. Regardless, it had no capability to lock up its victim's legs. It was the realization she could get up and run that brought her remaining survival hopes. She didn't understand that her blood moving faster was undoubtedly what the organism latched onto her upper body wished for, and its teeth sank into the fat stores on her chest.

A mystery then formed. What sound would the woman have made if it had been possible, or permitted? A cry for help? A shriek of ecstasy? This secret would forever reside with the prey of the entity. She continued to struggle foolishly as the latched on party advanced to the preceding steps in the feeding process. Her blood gushing out into the body of the captor caused incoming dizziness, numbness and, strangely, pleasure.

The forces at play stacked up, exponentially raising each new injected feeling to unfathomable levels. She slowed dramatically in seconds, and after a couple of minutes, the consuming sensations reached critical mass. She collapsed to the ground miles away from any form of assistance. The leech continued to allow writhing, letting the human tire itself further. The subject's straining to get loose maintained the requirements for assimilation, so the last addition to arrest was a spike of lovely dopamine. The helpless thrall no longer wanted to bust free, and couldn't bring herself to resist her body's urges to squirm and grind against the life form she was interconnected with.

Impending victory doesn't attract the bloodsucker to complacency, for it simply continued to break down the lovely host. The next stage commenced as an acidic substance excreted from its body, disintegrating the thin layer of fabric donned by the female runner. No further destruction was performed by the slimy, warm liquids, no singe marks would be left on her flawless skin.

The female's eyes crossed as the somehow fluffy skin of her subjugator endlessly caressed her now exposed skin. The nerves closest to her nipples overloaded with signals never detected before. Her mind and body slowly succumbed to the addicting onslaught. A barrage that, lucky for her, won't come to a stop.

The parasite desired to grow and duplicate, to continue its path to domination over the corrupting soul it fed from. Its target no longer required restraint, so it adjusted position. Instead of binding her wrists together and gagging her, it wrapped itself around the front of her torso. Its incisors continue to grip onto two points of extreme interest; her tits. On the outside, the casual onlooker was rendered incapable of recognizing the damsel being in any distress, as her species wouldn't think twice about her simply wearing a colorful, lush jacket. 

Her arms, now covered by the skin of the controller, move only at the direct command of the vermin. What a bewitching disguise it would be, as fashion had become just ridiculous enough for this look to be reasonable to wear normally. Soon enough, she wouldn't be obligated to remain in uniform, whether or not it was considered as a costume. Instead, she would be used to lead the astonishing alien to new bodies so it could feed, replicate and conquer.

For now, as patient zero, she would be rewarded. The cloning almost complete, and mitosis already underway, all she had to do was continue providing the energy the parasite craved. Within another few minutes, the second identical outsider was born.

Without hesitation, the young spawn repeated the operations its parent cell recently performed, but on the poor woman's lower body. Starting at her calves, and sliding all the way to her hips, it covered every inch of her legs, thighs and eventually crotch. That was where its mouth settled, and the extraction of fluids resumed. The new fluid retrieved was her lovely juices, easily flowing out of her wet sex.

In tandem, the two foreigners possessed her entire body, and piloted her toward new scenery. The woman was too indulged in euphoric pleasure to understand where she was being taken. All she could grasp was exciting bliss. The single noticeable change to her body was vacant, cloudy eyes. Even this fact could change instantly if her captors saw fit, especially for special events such as luring a new human body into an endless sexual intercourse trap for the betterment of the growing colony of parasites.

The woman was reported missing a few days later when she didn't show up for work, and all rumors to her whereabouts ended with no further leads. A recording of her walking aimlessly in the woods late at night was dug up months later. Was she still alive? How had she survived without proper nourishment? The only evidence to the truths that haunt this land comes sparingly, when additional members of society disappear. 

All the community could do was avoid the site, but it quickly became a legend and a tourist attraction. How could anyone keep track of the thousands of flocking visitors to try to locate the missing dozens of lives? Even if found, how could they avoid the same fate? A wise man once said stories couldn't be written without someone bearing witness, so had someone laid eyes on the spectacle that first night?

All that's certain was that the woman in question never returned home.

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