Wriggles

by TF_Hive
Published: Jan 1st, 2012

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worm (0) parasite (0)
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   Zazi rushed through the rusty door to the contaminated white that was the crusty, waste blasted, echo filled chamber of a restroom for the local club. She gasped in and out like a fluxing hyper balloon, flapping her head to lean down over the sink so fast her black haired head bashed with the mirror, letting a jagged assortment of dusty old kaleidoscope innards fresh from the mirror stab into the soft flesh of her fore head. Running the sink instinctually, her more careful side led the effort in carefully assorting the rigid drug dusted glass snowflakes that made a bloody arrangement of her forehead, her stray hairs of her bangs vastly in number dabbed into the source of blood with disgusting frequency, fresh sweat working her strands of bloody loose waves into filthy clumps. 


  At the moment, it all seemed like some elaborate party idea. Zazi was used to drugs and weird shitty ideas for the next party buzz. They once tried to find a way to mix booze and spray paint fumes into some plastic bag to burst into your face and risk melting your nasal cartridges in order to get some cheap high. The black haired girl turned to the bar at the club to check to see what the fuss was. Everyone had gathered in one of the blacker corners of the neon chaos, Zazi spotting that some of her friends had chosen to traverse towards the buzz. The girl clicked her dancing shoes against the flash colored floor over to the noise.


  People had in their glasses a curious sinewy white ball. It was more cocoon like than anything else, completely unsmooth and webby and powdery. It looked like an egg sac of some damnable species. One of Zazi’s companions regarded the orbs for Zazi. “That stuff? I had it before! It looks totaaaaally gross, but it’s actually like the best high I ever got in my life! And the best part is I never even got any itches or shivers that other drugs leave me with. There is like no crash at all!” Her blonde curly haired companion cackles, placing a half drunken arm to wrap around her shoulder. 


  A man had passed a drink back around, and eventually it had made it to Zazi, and it was passed over to the deceptively cute girl. She palmed the cocktail in her hand, curiously gliding over the shaped glass, regarding the contents. Some cheap vodka or some other clear bitter liquid waved about, and the aforementioned orb laid in the fluid, not seemingly soaking in any of the liquor. “You just drink it…” Her friend began to explain. “-And when you get to the ball, put it in your mouth and let it melt.”


  “Good, just like a tums.” Zazi snickered. She lifted the rim of the glass to her lips, and parted them not even an inch, letting the silver clear liquid shimmer down the glass and slip between two feminine lips. The ball inched forward, swept up in the subtle tide and influenced by gravity. It touched her lip, and the texture was if you made a whole ball out of nothing but dried glue. It was almost itch inducing. She felt her friend give her teasing kiss on the cheek and tilt Zazi’s glass a bit more forward. She opened her mouth-


   She coughs, spewing blood from her mouth into the bathroom sink, none of her palms available to catch the sudden painting of blood she hacks out. She wonders why she ventured the journey to partake in the effects of the orb. It couldn’t have been anything good, but now she was landed here in the trashy toilets of this god awful club. She regretted every second she ever stepped foot in this club, the whole damn lot was lazy! Her own best friend was the one who gave here the investment into the future of spitting out your curled organs through your compressing throat into a crusty sink.


   She remembers the subtle scratching sensation swallowing that ball gave her. It road down her throat as well as you’d think, feeling like she had mistaken some stone for food and her body was doing everything it could to remedy her stupidity, force the stone out with all the vomiting force her body had. But the ball put up a fight, having attached itself like a demented cocoon to her throat, attaching to every veiny wall of her gullet with its tainted strings sticking like a titanium bristle pad. 


   She gagged again and again, ready to escape from the repetition of this fever dream. Her body sweat over and over, her skin damp like she emerged from a pool with all the desperate illness that swamped her body. Her clothes swamped and hung against her form, her knees went wobbly. She coughed again, shivering visible, cold breath gracing the unforgiving air filled with the hum of fluorescent lights, her nose covered in the drooling of her gash in her forehead. She ventured to look at the stain she was leaving in the sink when she realized that crawling in her little cesspool of regrets was worms. Thriving, growing, vibrating worms. They crawled in the crust at the drain ring, and they suckled against the stains of her blood she coughed against the dirty sink. She took a step back, and fell upon her shorts covered ass. She. She… She looked at her wrist, a massive visible bulge in it. A worm was crawling in her hand.


   It moved quickly, swiveling around to reveal another was behind it. Zazi never panicked more in her life, throbbing like a sad pig against the floor, rolling about to try and find some way to get it out! She slammed her wrist against the wall, bruising it, and only working to agitate the worm. She felt it bite down on her insides, the outer side of her skin folding down against itself. She felt a rush of hormones try and thrive in her body. Her limbs went numb, and for one single isolated moment her head spun out of control, feeling the endless fetal curl of being overtaken by the puppet masters that writhed in her gut. And then, her head got the wriggles. 


   They moved around, and made her eyeballs grow so tense they nearly popped out of her head. The thrived inside her skull, rolling around every dry or wet contour of her sad little head, making a living out of the hollowed portion of the punk’s unhealthy head. They bit into her brain, leaving little imprints, little slobbering snail trails of white worm goo, their aphrodisiacs unmistakable once that ghastly blush arose on her cheek. She felt washed away by an erasing current. Her pretense was being annihilated in that pool of blood she lay in, her thighs wrapped in the intensity of the curl of a thousand snake thick parasites making a buffet of her innards. 


   There was a sharp bite at her insides again, and every bite was only met with an intense rush of reinforcing hormones. She blushed heavily, her tongue hanging from her mouth against her will. Crawling up from her throat, a horrid worm, covered with prickly feelers and long curly antennae emerged from the spread cave that was her throat. It sprawled out, leaving a sinisterly tainted trailer wherever it slithered off to. It traveled down her body, leaving an odd acid that worked to burn a straight trail right down the middle of her clothes, exposing flesh with each and every inch it traversed. Her clothes shoddily fell apart like a cheap rag. She was left to air out with her large breasts form, her perfectly peaked pink peaks throbbed and laid to the side, her chest notably expanded up and down with the adventure of the parasites crawling around, rearranging her.


   She felt both ends of her intestine snap. She threw her neck up, snapping out of the stupor, velocity vomit soared from her curdling throat, spewing a panicked cannon of bile across the room, spraying the wall in six feet of blood mixed with bile and underdeveloped waste. She felt the sharp snap like a doctor putting a patient back to sleep, and in an instant she was back to groveling in her own blood and bile, her eyes going crossed, and her esophagus summoned a few hearty chuckles of laughter. This was better than heroin. 
Curling up her throat with the assistance of the worms, her intestines were unraveled and deplaced, like last year’s Christmas lights. The lightly veined bundle of vitals were discarded anywhere that wouldn’t be too far, but far enough so they wouldn’t risk her rolling on her sausage coatings. In the place where her hefty set of organs once inhabited, a mighty parasite now moved in, attaching itself to vital plugs like an extension cord. Her heart went next. It was snapped, and for that straight moment she felt her life extend against a flat line, no longer riding a rhythm she had known ever since birth. The pure, organic sensation one can always get from simply checking your heartbeat was replaced by some worm that bloated to resemble a heart, the faintly grey thing bobbed in placed, pumping her with only the hormones and blood she’d ever really need. Her heart was discarded with anything else, her throat summoned a little more vomit before even her stomach was thrown out with the trash by the hive worms, making a home of her.


   The worms in her head had been carving little tunnels right through her brain. Every little shovel full of brain destroyed made her twitch and writhe and drool. These worms readily laid down a sort of insectoid cement, fulfilling any hole they dug open with their rear ends spewing ready loads of their tainted building material. Like a bee hive, her brain became steadily constructed rather than grown. She felt little memories get lost in the carelessness. And she knew, somehow in her numb stupor, they would not stop until they had gone over every little detail. Their antennas touched her gray matter, and through her mind they sent little whispers, assuring her everything was going to be alright. She just had to remain calm, let them work. Let them replace her. She felt her skin throb.
It throbbed steadily more and more often, her hands unable to be lifted to scratch her prickly arms to relieve herself of the sensation. She was helpless, only able to hope her worm covered eyes would turn down once in a while and gift her with the rare sight of seeing the filthy brown fur that grew so eagerly against her once pale skin. It grew and grew, travelling up her arms with an alarming pace, never ceasing in its ascent to overtake her whole arm. It was not long at all until her whole arm was covered in the filthy coat of short fur, claiming her arm forever to the devices of these mindless parasites. 


   She felt her never before used tail bone sprout from her rear with such force. Blood trailed down against her bubbling rear, worms of course thriving and surviving down there, moving and visibly bulging against her massive ass. Her tail bone was just that, nought but a bone, with flesh struggling to be given form against her new limb, going as far as few inches beyond the base. Beyond that, it was nothing but posing bone, her skeletal cage of a tail lined on the inside with little muscle fibers and worms of course. It extended out just a bit further, the pain so throbbing it nearly broke her back out from her mindless cage she had finally been cemented into. 


   Her body never stopped with the fur growing, for it further traversed to her torso, her massive breasts the perfect candidates to be covered in the tainted fur. And through her nipples, was pumped this terrible substance, the very same booze these parasite enjoy living in, the same inhabitants to her glass she drank. Her nipples tainted pure black, an extra two rows of large black tits emerged from the shoddy forest that grew from her imperfect flesh. She cried out, the sensation too much. Her hands were gifted with their first movements, able to move to squeeze at her shuddering breasts, and she felt her nipples eject a load of liquor from her parasite wired body, her tit running over with the impressive flow of booze. She gasped, her new wormy nervous system the perfect conductor of the excited jolts that endeavored to wrack her body in the black sensation of feeling your organs die, of every nerve be painted in corruption, and to have your basic body intentions be deprived or outright robbed from you. You are a tool to these worms, you are to be their home, from which they shall spread and taint others. Zazi opened her throbbing eyes, her face spread painlessly out into a muzzle, her nose fell off, and over the hole grew black hardened flesh to serve as her new nose.


   Her dog like body was a little hard to handle. It was unwieldy to function her new muscles at first, her reinforcement dependent upon boneless bugs that were as sturdy as strings. But with finesse, and determinations she emerged from the floor, reborn the cocoon of bile and spit. Her feet extended into clawed paws, her hands being tugged out by the sprouting of claws. She licked her heavily blackened lips, blood was her new drool. She had no spittle to exist in her mouth, it was but blood and bile. Her tongue hung loose, and was many inches long now. Her eyes were forever red, and crawling with microscopic worms. Her eyes were a nursery for the smaller worms, for their youth must be hatched in a watery environment. Coursing through her head was the brood mother, who readied to lay another grouping of eggs. 


   She returned to the bathroom mirror, appreciating her brown fur, her clumps of blood and dirt and bile that bound many clumps of her messy do together. “I lOOk FuckinG perfecT~!” She proclaimed, licking her lips at her visage. 

The lights of the club were as blinding and brain numbing as ever. It was a hollow shrine to poverty as ever. Filth mingled with the dancers who ventured to visit. She shambled across the dance floor, her clawed feet clicking against the glowing floor. She blended in with the shadows, sneaking across the floor without gather the attention of the drug filled morons who danced. They were the true zombies, they lived like idiots. Humans wanted nothing more than to continue pointlessness. They lived to keep stupidity alive, to work and work until the day they finally earn to ability to do nothing important. Zazi saw this now, and she wanted nothing more than to purify.


   She spotted a tan girl, ever so short. She could be mistaken for underage, but none of those snuck in to this club, oh never! This was a high class establishment, and never would a ghetto body guard allow some kid in here. Her ass was massive and throbbing brown. She was that incredible shade of tan that was dark enough to not be white, but not so darkened that she was obviously just tanning for the attention. She belonged to Zazi now. The rotting dog pinned her to the floor, the crowd not noticing a thing. They were too busy dancing, too busy not feeling.

 
   The girl screamed as her pink clothing was torn from her. From Zazi’s moistened folds emerged a worm, massive and bulbous, with a shaft like shape to it, and massive knot in the center. Zazi stuffed this down the cunt of her victim, pinning the girl with blood ability to the floor. She was imprisoned by the assailing hound, getting raped by an alley dog the equivalent. She felt her load be ejected too early for anything with a normally equipped penis. The girl was suddenly left alone.

Zazi road off to another victim, wishing to disperse. 

The girl checked her folds, spreading her moist brown slit.

There was a throbbing mass of clear liquid in her.

In the liquid were eggs…

The eggs hatched into mites…
They crawled up into her, with the force of a hand dragging her across the floor.

She was about to catch the Wriggles.

 

 

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