Chapter Text
“Well,” Louise sighs, changing the news channel, “it looks like we’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”
She flops back onto the bed and closes her eyes. Outside, the wind howls, the windows rattling in their frames.
Beside her, Henri grunts in acknowledgement and takes another gulp of beer. Louise stops herself from wrinkling her nose. It’s something Henri complained to their marriage counselor about - how she’s pretentious and too stuck-up sometimes. Louise had talked about his silence; tall, dark, and stoic were all sexy character traits when they were dating, but Henri’s ‘tough guy’ exterior made it difficult for Louise to even talk to him at times.
And not talking didn’t make for a very productive marriage.
It's aggravating. Even more aggravating is how, even now, he is still keeping to that facade - as if Louise hadn’t seen him talking animatedly to a girl at his workplace just a week ago.
God - that girl. Louise blinks back tears. No. She can’t lose her calm in front of him - not now. Not when, not when-
“I-,” she clears her throat, “I’m just going to- have a nap. Okay?”
Another grunt. He doesn’t even glance at her.
Biting her bottom lip, Louise grabs her phone off the coffee table and strides to her bedroom upstairs.
Don’t cry, she tells herself.
Don’t cry.
Things hadn’t always been this dismal between the two of them.
She had met Henri at a New Year’s party. Immediately after entering, he caught her eye as the mysterious guy with a leather jacket drinking a beer in a corner instead of joining in with the festivities. Striking up a conversation with him seemed almost natural. They had gotten each other’s numbers and promised to keep in touch, but after a surprise blind date set up through a friend, they were dating. Six months later, Henri proposed and she accepted.
A year after that, they were married.
But Louise has learned that passion alone does not make a marriage.
While she and Henri agree on some things, there are many other areas in which they differ. When they dated, she saw those differences as proof of their compatibility - of the idiom ‘opposites attract’. After the honeymoon period ended, she began seeing them as annoyances.
Henri likes alcohol. Louise would tolerate it at social events.
Louise loves to watch her favourite shows with her loved ones. Henri regularly calls her shows ‘trash TV’.
Henri wants to spend time with his ‘pals’ on Sundays. Louise would insist on spending time together on Sundays - without Henri’s buddies.
It seemed like the only time they agreed was when they sought a marriage counselor. She had suggested a few joint practices, a few joint activities, to rebuild their faltering bond- rekindle the love between them.
Louise wanted something cozy. Henri wanted something exciting.
Hence, them deciding on this vacation up North, to live in a nice, remote cabin together before returning to civilisation a few days later. Only for a snowstorm to hit a few hours after they’ve arrived.
The news had all indicated it would last a good few weeks. Not much, and thanks to renting an entire cabin meant for hosting entire groups, Louise isn’t concerned about lacking adequate food or water. No, they have everything they could ever want - including a neat little hot tub and excellent heating.
But a few ‘weeks’ is far longer than what she had spent together with Henri in months.
Curled up on the bed, exhausted, Louise turns to her side and stares out the window glumly. The storm continues to rage with no sign of ceasing anytime soon. The world she can see from inside the safety of her cabin is a desolate wasteland of knee-high snow - the kind that can be featured in horrible survival stories, impossible to traverse through.
They are, effectively, trapped.
Of course this has to happen while we’re here, she thinks sourly. Her luck is just the worst.
With a huff, Louise closes her eyes - willing herself to just sleep the days away.
But unbeknownst to her, Louise is more than just unlucky. See, the storm brought more than just snow to the cabin’s door.
A tiny, neon-blue tentacle begins to creep out from the floorboards as Louise’s breathing deepens. It is unattached to any body - almost sluglike, complete with a set of feelers.
Like Louise and Henri, it too is snowed in. A parasite from the furthest reaches of the Milky Way Galaxy, its kind had spread throughout the universe from modifying a female host to become a breeding stud and having arrived on Earth shortly prior, it sought shelter in the cabin to wait for a host.
And it has found one.
Its feelers catching the warmth radiating off Louise, the parasite perks up. A potential host. Excited, the parasite immediately starts crawling up the nearest bedpost, slithering under the sheets, until it is making its way to the space between Louise’s legs.
Then, it nudges at her folds. It instinctively recognises the scent from her cunt. A potential female host. Perfect.
Excited, the parasite doesn’t waste any more time; it plunges into Louise’s depths - wriggling and pushing its way into hot, tight walls, crawling upwards. When it encounters a wall of tight muscle, the parasite merely squeezes through the small gap - the slime on its body aiding its way.
Not once does Louise stir, even as the parasite slides into her fertile womb, where it bites down, pumping its powerful venom into her blood to begin the next phase. Slowly, the walls soften and the parasite slowly melts into the surrounding soft tissue.
Its ‘feelers’ - which double as additional mouths - lengthen and reach into her fallopian tubes, extending towards her ovaries. There, it sucks up her fertile eggs, devouring them for nutrition while replacing them with additional venom to transform their use.
Then, it begins to grow.
When Louise opens her eyes the next morning, she feels both oddly refreshed and horny.
The former part comes as a pleasant surprise to her, given her poorer state of mind lately. But she won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
The latter, however…
Louise blushes and squeezes her thighs together as she feels her groin pulse, a drop of slick leaking out. It’s… been a while, she supposes. Since she last had sex with Henri. And her being preoccupied with housework, her, ahem, ‘ alone time ’, has long been converted to ‘chores time’. Away from any possible stressors, it’s no wonder she’s all hot and bothered. Or at least, this is what she tries to convince herself. with.
Strangely, though, she feels… different than usual. A fullness where usually she would be achingly empty. Yearning for something to fill her.
Could be bloating, maybe? Hm. Dismissing it as a minor inconvenience, Louise grabs a bath towel, a bathrobe, and her nightgown - just to head downstairs - and decides to ‘take care’ of herself in the shower.
On her way to there, she pokes her head in the living room out of curiosity. A scowl etches itself on her lips when she sees Henri laying on the couch and snoring away, a blanket covering his body. The couch is tiny, so his arms hang off the side, unable to fit. Instead of choosing to sleep with Louise or even choose one of the other rooms on the same floor, Henri is sleeping on the couch just to avoid her.
Asshole, she mentally spits out. Gritting her teeth, Louise forces herself away and marches to the shower, her fingers fisting her towel angrily. That difficult to join me, huh? Goddamn prick.
Once in the showers, Louise doesn’t waste anymore time - practically ripping her nightgown off and throwing her towel and robe onto a nearby rack. Turning on the shower, she sighs in relief when the spray hits her. She can practically see the water pressure washing away her troubles, dissipating the tension in her shoulders, and distracting her from her annoyance at Henri.
Then, her pussy throbs, reminding her of her little ‘problem’.
Louise reaches down, intending to just finger herself to completion, before an idea pops up in her head.
Her gaze flits between the showerhead and her pussy. She removes the showerhead from its holder then she lowers it slowly.
Immediately, she lets out a pleased sigh as the water pressure hits her clit. Ahh. That hits the spot. Her other hand reaches down, fingers tracing circles around her clit as she lets herself relax. It’s soothing in a way. She wonders if she should buy a similar showerhead when she gets back home - a little indulgence since Henri isn’t being useful anyway. Come to think of it, she brought along her laptop too… maybe a little Incognito searches might be in order…
Giggling, Louise lets her thoughts drift away.
She is still blissfully unaware of a new occupant in her body, which stirs.
Deep within her womb, the parasite awakens. The hormones unleashed by Louise’s ‘self-love’ session has unleashed a wave of endorphins that had alerted it to its host seeking pleasure and now it works to bring her transformation to the next stage.
Having mostly merged with Louise’s womb and growing to fill the entirety of it, the parasite turns its attention to the rest of her vaginal canal. It commands its host’s body to create new tissue with unique functionality - thought genetically identical to its own - and attaches itself to them. The newly grown flesh closest to Louise’s entrance flares out into a mushroom shape.
Oblivious, Louise lets her fingers drift from her clit to her pussy. Her folds are engorged with blood and slick streams down her thighs as she pushes one finger into her hole, curling it slightly. The sensation is strangely muted. Like she can only feel something there, but it isn’t clear what.
Frowning, she prods her walls, trying to find out why, only to encounter something inside her.
Yanking her finger out with a cry, Louise stares down at it, then at her groin in shock. What was that? Her heart pounds. It feels like a blockage of some sort - firm but fleshy. And the odd fullness in her lower abdomen had increased around the same spot.
Worried, Louise slips a finger inside her pussy again, poking the fleshy growth. Her eyes widen at the sharp zing of pleasure. She nudges it again and this time, the heat that coils in her belly is unmistakable. How odd. Not bad, but, different.
Focusing on her discovery, her gaze drifts to the showerhead clutched in her other hand. Maybe …
She lowers it, then aims the spray against her hole. A startled gasp slips out of her mouth as the sensitive flesh-growth inside of her throbs - euphoria rushing through her veins at the sensation. Not bad. Not bad at all. The only problem is the way her pussy feels uncomfortably full but even that is slowly abating as Louise digs a finger inside her hole to explore her new growth.
Louise moans as it seems to grow - pushing back against her finger. Oversensitive and so, so warm. Shock gives way to pleasure as it continues to extend outwards.
When she feels it beginning to protrude from her hole, Louise glances down. The unnatural blue of the fleshy growth makes her do a double take. It almost seems to resemble the glans of a penis. Huh. Her brows furrow. She momentarily considers stopping to examine it, but quickly dismisses the idea. It should be fine. After all, she’s feeling pleasure - so it’s indisputably a part of her body.
The fleshy growth extends another two inches, exposing the distinct, flared head of a cock and a bit of shaft. Louise wraps her hand around it and has to bite back a moan. Sensitive. Very, very sensitive, she notes distantly. Like a giant erogenous zone or- or a real cock.
A cock. Hm. Encouraged, she moves her hand up, then down. Up. Down. Again and again, replicating the way she saw men masturbate. The heat simmering low in her belly abruptly doubles and she groans. Yeah. This is it. This is- good. So fucking good!
“More, need- more!” Louise’s hand speeds up. At the same time, she begins gyrating her hips to every jerk of her hand. With every thrust, the phallic organ lengthens. The rest of the neon blue shaft is covered in ridges, bumps, and veins that pulsate rhythmically. Lavender precum bubbles at the tip, sliding down nine inches of thick, alien cockmeat.
When her hands can only cover a third of the available length, Louise drops the showerhead in favour of her cock - moaning as she grips herself with both hands. “Fuck yes!” She hisses. Her fingers squelch lewdly as they slide along her length, faster and faster.
If Henri enters the bathroom now, he would see his dainty wife furiously jerking herself off. He would probably be horrified as he forcibly stops her, helps her get medical attention, and maybe, just maybe, this could have been a bonding experience that brought them together. An embarrassing, wacky story for them to tell their friends in the years to come.
But Henri is not present - and all the factors are in place for the parasite to complete Louise’s transformation.
And that is what it does.
Merging completely with her flesh, the parasite pumps specialised cells into Louise’s blood before its consciousness fades entirely.
These cells carry the parasite’s will and instincts through her veins. While most travel to different parts of Louise’s body, a special few have a unique purpose - and thus proceed to her heart, then up the aorta, into the soft tissue of her brain. There, the cells spread - one implanting itself in Louise’s hypothalamus, another in her amygdala, yet another in her thalamus, so on and so forth. They dig their tiny feet in, spreading like roots across every part of her brain, to send and disrupt signals, create new, core instincts, and finalize Louise’s change into a stud.
Oblivious, Louise does not realise anything is wrong. All she notices is the heat in her building as her movements grow more aggressive. She moans at the mounting pleasure even as her mind is being scrambled and permanently rewired.
“Good, so, harh- good!!” Where has this been all her life?! Louise groans as she continues beating her girlmeat. Forget riding a cock - if she had a dick like this her entire life, she would have never needed Henri’s.
In fact the more she thinks about it, Henri should be riding her cock.
The new stud licks her lips, dark urges rising in her mind. It’s the perfect idea, the perfect plan. What better way to solve their marital issues than by dominating her husband entirely? Turning him into a hole to warm her cock?
The image of slapping her dick against gruff, manly Henri, seeing her husband choking down her dick-
“Ohh-” Louise’s eyes roll up in her head, hands a blur over her cock. Squelch squelch squelchsquelchsquelch-
Fucking his tight, virgin ass-
Louise humps the air, rapidly pistoning her hips like a wolf in rut.
Breeding his hole as he cries -
Her tongue lolls out, drool escaping out the corner of her mouth.
-The thought of it sends her careening over the edge.
“Coming,” Louise screams, “coming, coming, coming-!!”
She cuts herself off, her body seizing as her cock spasms uncontrollably. Dark purple cum shoots out of it in fountain of jizz. Several gallons of alien seed coat the walls, the floors, and Louise herself. She can only watch as her semen rains down on her, cross-eyed as her mind is endlessly assaulted by orgasmic pleasure and the parasitic cells’ stimulation, carving the memory of her first penile orgasm into her mind.
And what an orgasm it was.
It takes several minutes before her mind returns to her. When Louise finally regains control over herself, she’s stunned by the sight of the walls and floors plastered in her release. All that spend, all that cum, had come from her.
A strange pride wells in her chest.
Unperturbed, Louise begins cleaning up, new plans coming into existence.
Their marriage counselor was right - it’s time to rekindle their love.
And what better way to start than by breaking Henri with her dick?
“- And here’s the last dish!” Louise grins as she sets down the grilled salmon with a flourish. “Tada!”
Henri grunts.
They’re having dinner together - another recommendation of the marriage counselor. A few hours after cleaning up the bathroom, Louise had quickly cooked a quick meal for the both of them, then, decided to be productive and get an early start on dinner.
Or so she said.
Henri couldn’t quite believe the veritable feast spread out in front of him. Seven courses, comprising signature foods from various cultures, had been laid across the dinner table. The variety of spices and colours makes Henri raise his eyebrows. “There supposed to be some sort of celebration or something?” he asks.
“Nope,” Louise pops the ‘p’ and settles in her seat, opposite Henri’s, steepling her fingers together. “I just thought of cooking up something nice.”
“Hn.” A remark is on the tip of his tongue about her cooking, but Henri swallows it. Instead, he nods and digs in. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Unbeknownst to Henri, Louise’s smile shifts into something darker, colder, as he bites down on a piece of salmon. “No problem at all.”
He tried a few dishes just now - the butter chicken and roasted brussel sprouts. All of them are surprisingly good. But the real prize is the salmon - grilled over low heat with a special marinade comprising of saffron, pepper, salt, soy sauce, and a few, crushed sleeping pills from the first aid kit.
Nearly jumping out of her skin from sheer excitement, Louise watches as Henri’s Adam’s apple bobs, the salmon visibly going down his throat.
It doesn’t take long for them to take effect.
She hides a grin when Henri’s eyes begin to close before he forces them open. “My,” she coos, sugary sweet, “are you okay, darling? Do you feel tired?”
“I,” Henri slurs, “I don’t… what did you put in there?”
She clicked her tongue. “What are you saying, Henri? Gosh, come, let’s get you some rest.” Louise strides over to her husband, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Up, now.”
“You,” his eyes flicker with shock as he’s laid on to the couch. “My food… you…”
“I what?” she asks, but Henri only trails off, his eyes closing.
Within seconds, he’s asleep.
Louise lets her grin widen into a lusty smirk. She rubs her hands gleefully. Her trick worked. She can’t believe it. Straddling Henri, joy sings through her veins as Louise begins to unbutton his flannel shirt. At the first sight of sizable pecs and red nipples, she groans.
How? She cups his chest - a perfect handful. How is it possible for a man to have such large boobs? She wonders, squeezing down Despite appearing rather firm, the pecs are soft and squishy, much like a woman’s chest. Her cock jumps underneath her skirt as flesh overflows from the gaps in-between her fingers. When Louise lifts her hands, there’s a red imprint on Henri’s flesh - a mark, to claim Henri’s boobs as hers.
She growls at the sight, pleased.
Next, Louise turns her attention to his jeans. Pulling at them is all it takes for Henri’s jeans to slip off without much effort, exposing muscled thighs and calves and a limp cock and testicles. Whether due to laziness or aesthetics, Henri doesn’t bother with underwear on vacation. She used to scold him for it but, well, it’s easy access. Heat curls in her groin at the thought of being able to touch Henri’s most intimate areas whenever and wherever she wants.
Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, Louise runs her hands appreciatively over his legs before turning her attention to his dick. She wraps a hand around it, pumping idly, and it quickly swells under her ministrations.
Louise then tugs at the string strapping her cock to her thigh. With her underwear no longer fitting, this was the solution she found. As the string snaps, her erection immediately tents her skirt lewdly - cockhead lifting the hem and exposing virtually the entirety of her throbbing shaft and balls. She can’t help but giggle as she presses her penis against Henri’s. The size difference is obvious side-by-side.
Louise remembers seeing and taking Henri’s cock for the first time and being amazed by how large it was. She smirks at the memory.
It isn’t like her husband has a small or ugly dick, per se; uncut, a nice, ruddy red all over, and at six inches long, it’s fairly average. Certainly not bad by any means. But compared to Louise’s neon-blue, eleven-inch, ribbed monstrosity, Henri’s simply looks… subpar. Diminutive.
Thoroughly amused, Louise turns her husband over, resting him on his belly. She unconsciously lets out a gasp. Now that is a nice ass. Her gaze drifts over a pair of finely sculpted cheeks, rounder and fuller than she had expected. Pert and muscled, Henri’s ass is delightful. Louise slaps it and is delighted by the resulting jiggle. Tugging his asscheeks apart, she silently swears at the sight of Henri’s hole - pink, puckered, and tight.
Another reminder of how Henri would serve a better role taking her cock. Why else would a man possess a hole that looks like it belongs on a femboy? The thought of it going unused feels wrong to Louise. Such a hole should be bred and bred full.
By now, her cock is leaking copious amounts of precum. She slides a hand down her shaft, coating it in that slick liquid, before lining herself against that virginal hole. Then, she thrusts in.
Her lips part. Perfect, snug heat hugs her cock. It’s a tight fit, from the lack of stretching, but not uncomfortable. No, far from it. And the more of her length penetrates Henri, the more Louise loves it. She loves the proof that the only thing to have ever fucked Henri’s ass would be her cock, loves the suffocating tightness as if Henri is clenching down on her dick, keeping her there, loves how her cock is forcibly reshaping Henri’s walls.
By the time she is done, his ass would only recognise her.
Louise pulls out slightly, smug as Henri’s walls cling to her shaft, before she thrusts back in. She sets a rapid pace, pistoning her cock into him in swift, decisive thrusts. It doesn’t take much before the body under her is heating up, with splotchy red skin and deeper, harsher breathing giving away Henri’s arousal. Asleep, his body is an open book that Louise reads all too easily.
And when she feels her cock nudge against a certain something inside of Henri, she grins triumphantly. Jackpot.
Raising his hips, Louise adjusts her stance, her cock slamming into Henri’s prostate with every thrust. His own penis jerks where it dangles uselessly between his legs, and Louise laughs at the sight.
“Getting hard because you’re being fucking in the ass?” she slaps his ass harshly. “Filthy little whore .”
Her grin sharpens. “But don’t worry - I’ll give you what you want soon enough.”
Her thrusts become harsher, less controlled. Henri’s tight hole loosens with how hard Louise batters it, and it squelches with every move she makes. The space between their body is a mess of fluids and the air thickens with musk and candied sweetness.
At last, pressing her hips flush against Henri’s ass, Louise comes with a quiet growl. Cum spurts out of her into Henri’s ass, with her cock providing a tight seal preventing any semen from escaping. Savage satisfaction tugs a corner of her lips up when she notices the pool of white below Henri’s belly.
Came just from your ass huh? Louise couldn’t help but scoff. Cockslut.
Pulling out, she hums at the sight of cum practically pouring out of Henri’s now-gaping hole. His gaping rim twitches, unable to close fully. Slipping her fingers in, Louise briefly wonders if she should use a plug on him.
…Nah. It’ll be too obvious.
This is a slow game. And she’s prepared to win it.
Louise cleans up the mess with a wet cloth, re-dressing her husband, before planting a kiss on his cheek and sauntering off.