1

I reached into the cooler for another can, swished my arm around through the ice a few times, and came up empty. “Damn it Jim, yuh—hic you drank the last one!”

“Oh shut it Mindy, you had more than me!” Jim complained

The pinch in my belly told the tale truer than his words, “Yeah, yeah maybe… Damn I gotta piss.”

With a rather depraved grin Dave asked, “Can I watch?”

I gagged and replied, “Ew, no! You freak,” then climbed to my feet and tottered a bit. I wasn’t even sure I’d make it, but no way in hell would I piss behind a bush with him creeping about. I started to stumble away up the beach toward the parking lot and toilets.

Jim stretched and stood as well behind me, “Know what, I’m going to go get us another round. Want anything to eat Mindy?”

I touched my bare stomach, hollow, “Yeah, burger and fries would be good. Or hey why don’t we grill out on the beach tonight?”

“Sounds good, I’ll head into town, be back in maybe an hour or two?” Jim hesitantly offered.

Dave interjected, “I’m driving, no way in hell are you sober enough, you dumbass.”

“Just gonna leave me here by my lonesome?” I said with mock fright. Couldn’t keep a straight face though and nearly fell into a grassy sand dune on my way up the weathered beam stairs.

“You’ll be fine, get thirsty just drink the ocean.”

“Oh shut up,” I muttered, then topped the dune and turned off toward the distant bathroom while they continued on toward the parking lot. “Seriously though, you better come back. If I have to hitchhike home I’m going to find the raggedest rusty nail filled board you ever saw and turn you both into scarecrows the hard way.”

“Such violence!” Dave gasped.

“We’ll come back, don’t worry your little head none,” Jim replied with a wave.

I rounded another dune and trudged on. Bladder was so full I was sure it would start trickling down my leg at any moment. I was sorely tempted to just pull my bottoms down and go then and there, but I knew they might just follow me and watch. In the end, I made it.

The large brown building reeked to high heaven, flies buzzed in the rafters and I was sure spiders lurked under the outhouse toilets. I pushed a filthy stall open and stared at the tapered metal cylinder of a toilet with the ratty old seat bolted onto it. It at least looked clean. Though I refrained from looking too deeply beyond the rim. I thought of wiping it down anyway, but as I stood there a damp spot formed in the crotch of my bikini bottom and a single droplet fell to the floor between my legs. “Too late,” I groaned and jerked them down to drop about my ankles.

I spun, sat my bare ass down and let go. Cold damp air kissed my backside, the seat was clammy and uncomfortable, but I no longer cared. Urine fell and splashed somewhere far below, that was all that mattered. I tried not to think about what else was down there. I hated outhouses, hated them with a passion. Had I been thinking clearly I would have just told them I wanted to swim a bit and gone out into the ocean to piss.

There was a soft wet schlorp sound from below. My eyes widened as I imagined a snake or something. The buzzing of flies stopped all at once, every single one landed and remained still as stone. I could hear the waves crashing distantly, and the occasional cry of a gull. Another wet sound from below. I started to stand up, still pissing. Urine rained down between my legs, soaked my bottoms. I brought a hand down in a futile attempt to stop the flow, finger to urethra. I just made a mess.

Another sound. I turned to stare down into the dark pit as I pissed on the floor, wide eyed. My alcohol soaked thoughts couldn’t form up anything coherent, only gut wrenching terror. Something shot straight up out of the toilet, something far worse than any nightmare. It wasn’t a snake, it wasn’t a raccoon, it wasn’t anything I could make sense of. Brown mottled flesh, long, vaguely tadpole shaped. The head of the tadpole opened as it passed the rim of the toilet.

I started to scream as that maw spread. It was a single snapshot of imagery burned into my mind. Three jaws lined in teeth, spread like petals of a flower, a dark slimy throat, a single wrinkled tongue like a retracted elephant trunk, tipped in an orifice. It struck my face with a wet slap, those toothed jaws closed, wrapped tightly around my skull. One up the bridge of my nose, and one over each cheek. Teeth sank into skin, sharp hard pricks. Not teeth I realized, fangs. My scream was cut off sharp and short as that trunk shot between my lips and struck the back of my throat.

Venom entered my bloodstream through three dozen punctures. My face burned, my scalp ached, my fear spiked. Then the burn faded to a dull ache as numbness spread through flesh. I reached up and grasped at the tapered body. It was slimy, slippery, and smooth as frog skin but tough as old boot leather. I tugged and struggled, but could not dislodge it. Then that long tail of a body coiled around my torso and pinned both arms to my sides. It was so strong!

Down my throat that tongue slid. The flavor that accompanied it was gut wrenching. Sewage I realized. I vomited on the spot, bent double, and struggled to pull my arms up again. Bile and beer filled my throat, poured up into my mouth, and covered my face inside the open maw. It drank, cleared, then forced that tongue down and down until… until I felt it inside the cavity of my stomach. I heaved again, but nothing came up.

My shoulders began to numb, my breasts felt heavy and dull, my skull ached. Another landed on my feet, then coiled about my right leg and forced it’s way up. I was startled to realize, I was still pissing. Had it only been a few seconds? It felt like an eon since I’d stood up, yet my bladder was still full. The monster between my thighs gaped, petals brushing my knees, then struck like a snake. Two petals closed on my stomach, a third pressed against my pubic mound and navel. Fangs pierced, venom flowed.

Thigh muscles gave way a few seconds later. I tried to catch myself, but my arms were pinned and beginning to numb as well. I struck the filthy floor and lay in my own piss puddle. I heard more violent sloshing not far away, the sewage pit boiling with monsters. I gave up my struggle, there was nothing I could do, no resistance I could give. Between my limp legs the thing settled itself, swallowed against my pubic mound a few times to clear away my piss, then began to press it’s tubular tongue into my sphincter. There was no resistance, and I barely felt it enter, anal muscles limp and numb.

I felt so confused, alcohol alone was enough to leave me disoriented, but that venom did something to me. It put a heat in my core that fought against the numbness, I felt… I felt horny. Disgust was paramount, fear began to fade, and lust grew. The sloppy wet motions between my legs as that tongue slithered into my intestines, they were horribly delicious. If I could have moved I would have rolled my hips and ground my pubic mound into that tooth filled maw.

I began to swallow occasionally, tiny helpless gulps as that appendage squirmed back and forth in my throat and churned my queasy gut to a froth. I swallowed weakly once more against the nausea, and my mouth was filled. The monster’s tongue swelled, overfilled, and strained my jaw. The wrinkled ribs down it’s length hardened, and caught behind teeth, tonsils, and everywhere else. My tongue was pinned, my throat filled. I couldn’t breathe or even bite down.

What followed was horrifying. The worm rippled, tail to maw. A sloppy gurgle rushed up it’s length, the appendage clenched ridge by ridge, and that gurgle became a squishy slosh in my mouth, down my throat, then a wet sputter deep in my torso. My stomach swelled rapidly, my gut pressed against the wet floor, though I felt only a faint distant pressure. A moment later the disgusting sensation echoed between my legs, into my bowels, and discharged the sloppy mess somewhere below my ribs at the top of my large intestine. It squished deeper, spread throughout my stomach, and swelled me further.

A second pulse followed, tip to maw, then a third. Both worms disgorged whatever it was into my body while I lay helpless and terribly aroused. My vaginal passage clenched on nothing, as weak as my throat, but I could feel it. My labia were swollen and throbbing, yet skin was numb. My poor anus was stretched and possibly torn, but I felt nothing beyond the pressure against my pelvic bone and spine. A fourth release followed, smaller than the rest, as darkness crept in at the edge of my vision.

I needed to breathe, I was desperate for air. My lungs trembled as diaphragm heaved between nausea and futile gasps. The worm stayed right where it was though, and I couldn’t even twist my body anymore, I was going to suffocate! I silently screamed, begged, pleaded, yet no voice came out and no help arrived. The darkness crept in as every muscle still with sensation panicked and twitched. The worms began to move, but the swollen only swelled further, lodging those hard ribs into my flesh. I felt myself dragged and rolled, it left me dizzy and light headed with a flash of intense lust. Then as my head was dragged up over the edge of the toilet, consciousness fled.

2

I woke to dim light against my closed eyelids and a sense of serenity. I was floating, warm and safe. Arms held me, rocked me. I smiled, or tried to, but I couldn’t feel my face. I still felt strangely dizzy and that intense inner heat burned ever brighter. I could feel a distant throb behind my navel, hot as the sun. My eyes drifted open to gaze up at my lover’s face. Vision was blurry, but all I could make out was a single light far above, no face to lock eyes with, no presence other than the arms that held me in such wonderful warmth.

I took a slow, deep breath. The stench that filled my sinuses was beyond belief. Caustic urine and sickly sweet sewage. Something rose over me, a trio of petals opened, and I at last remembered. The worm descended over my face and slipped it’s tongue down my throat. There was no resistance, no struggle. I couldn’t even feel it, only see the faint outline glistening from the distant light. The petals did not close, just drifted back and forth over me as the monster penetrated my stomach.

It heaved, rippled, and swelled. The appendage bulged grotesquely, my mouth was packed solid and breath failed for a time. The gurgle and sputter was nauseating as it enjoyed relief down my throat, then withdrew. A moment later a clotted mass sprayed up from my throat and drooled down onto my breasts as my gut shrank again. I stared at it, dark and tangled like a hairball, but slimy instead of abrasive.

There was a distant slosh and slurp, and another pressed between my parted thighs. I couldn’t feel it, didn’t see it as it swam up from the sewage to nestle against my groin. I did however witness my stomach bulged upward, only then did I know what was happening. When it was done it slithered away and another clotted tangle spilled from me as my stomach shrank once more.

Over and over I experienced this, over and over I was flooded and drained. Each time my stomach grew a little thicker and remained. Each time a little less was voided. An hour passed, perhaps more. I heard a distant call, a familiar voice. Jim. He yelled my name repeatedly but I could not answer. Closer and closer he came, louder and louder. The bathroom door opened, closed. The stall door opened, the light above brightened, then darkened.

I couldn’t see well, only the vague shadow of him, but I heard his zipper. “Fucking woman, when I find you…” He sighed and trailed off, then a splatter of piss landed on my face and chest. I wanted to scream, to vomit. No heave followed, only the faint whistle of my breath and bubbling in my chest. I tasted fresh urine, but couldn’t even close my mouth. He shook himself once, twice, zipped up, then muttered, “What a disgusting shithole. Can’t believe someone would shit and piss all over the stall.” Then he left, no longer even calling my name. I listened to his footsteps on board fade into the distant crash of waves. I would have wept if I could.

The sun set, the light dimmed, then vanished. All I knew were the accompanying sounds of my rape and the continuous swelling of my torso. Something shifted with an audible gush in the night, but I felt no pain. Sometime before dawn I fell unconscious again, breathing labored and body feverish. I was going septic I dimly realized.

3

With dawn I woke to deep seated discomfort. The numbness had faded some but the limpness had not. There was an incredible itch over every inch of my skin, and a sharp, agonizing pain in my bowels. But worse was the ache in my vulva accompanied by a continuous throb. Through blurred, waste filled eyes, I stared at my bloated stomach. It was horrifying, lumpy in places, following the contour of my large intestine. Up one side, below my ribs, and down the other. Above me the largest worm I’d yet seen stood, with it’s appendage lodged in my backside. Behind that bulbous head and spread petals filled with fangs, a lumpy spiral of a body stood. It did not bend well, and the lumps continued to shift with each pulse of it’s long body.

Eggs, I understood dimly, those were eggs. This was the queen or something. My stomach gurgled as she clenched, another half dozen eggs shifted along her body in a spiral. Her ovipositor was lodged near the entrance to my small intestine. It shifted back, then clenched, and another half dozen were laid. I felt sick and aroused at the same time. I had become her sewage soaked nest. Over and over she deposited. Up my right side, from hip to rib, a lumpy mass was left behind, visible, packed tight. I could feel a cramping discomfort from it, but nothing shifted.

She voided her last eggs just below my ribs and dragged her ovipositor from my bowels. My stomach deflated on my left side and hung limply from my ribs, the right side remained packed and disturbingly, unnaturally malformed. She sank into the sewage and another rose between my legs. She humped herself up, her long egg packed spiral of a body broke the surface and glistened wetly in the distant morning sun. Her maw opened, petals closed on my thighs, fangs pierced flesh and numbness began to spread again, but I felt her ovipositor slide effortlessly into my gaping bowel and watched my deflated stomach refill.

Egg after egg, I watched the lumps form below my ribs, each the size of a grape, one or two visible bumps out of who knows how many eggs every evacuation. I was in a panic, terrified, my breath came in short wet gurgles that left me dizzy. Those were eggs, fertile eggs, the slimy tangled masses must have been clots of sperm, meant to leave me a fertile nest. Those eggs were inside of me, they would hatch.

It took four different worms to pack my intestine full. Four worms left my stomach packed to my abject horror. A fifth rose and tried, but my gaping anus had no room left for more eggs. It pushed and pried, it even slipped into my vaginal passage, but found no useful place to deposit. She withdrew, then rose a minute or two later above my right shoulder and leaned over my face.

“No,” I silently begged as waste drooled from opening petals onto my face and chest. That bulbous head settled onto my right breast and her ovipositor reached up, toward my slack lips. I tasted her sour flesh, then my breath was choked off with a wet slurp and down my throat she slid. My stomach ached, but that was nothing compared to the result of her laying. I couldn’t heave, I couldn’t struggle, I just watched as each mass of eggs was emptied down my throat.

Darkness inched in, my lungs and chest burned with need. She was only half done, that spiral of eggs along her bloated leathery body had so many more to go. I was unconscious again before she was done, suffocating upon her ovipositor as my stomach bulged sickeningly and empty vagina throbbed.

4

I woke to shouts, distant and near. A search party I realized through fever fogged thoughts. They came and went from the outhouse, waste and toilet paper wads piled on top of me until I was hidden. If any had looked down, any of them, they might have seen my panic filled eyes, but none had. No one wanted to look into a pit of sewage. I silently pleaded for someone, anyone to just look at me. As night fell, the search was called off and the beach grew silent again, with only the distant crash of waves and the occasional rush of wind through the grass.

I did not sleep, I could not sleep. My worst nightmares were manifested as the eggs began to jiggle and jump within me. I could not see, buried as I was, but I could feel every inch of skin now, every cramp, every torn crevice. I felt so cold, freezing in fact, even though I was buried in hot, rotting sewage. The fever delirium made it all worse. I could feel things crawling in and around me. Worms, Maggots, Spiders. My mind filled in the blanks. Every itch, every swollen ache, every putrefying inch of my flesh.

Dawn arrived, though I could only see a faint brightness upon the filthy paper over one eye, the first thing I’d seen in longer than I could remember. My thoughts came in ragged spasms, faint glimpses of coherence between the insane ravishing of fever dream. The wiggling eggs soon gave way to violent thrashings. My stomach rolled and bucked. My throat squirmed, even a few slimy eggs jostled back and forth between my teeth across the back of my tongue. Breath sucked and splattered between them, short and shallow, bubbling, lungs half filled with sewage and mucous.

They began to hatch, deep near my small intestine first, low on my right side. There was no numbing now, nothing to lessen the incredible terror as those squirming worms escaped with tiny pops and spluts. They had no where to go but inward, up my small intestine, and I could feel the movement of each and every one. My mind screamed and screamed, my lungs shook, my stomach squirmed, yet I still could not move.

More eggs hatched, more chubby little worms wriggled free into my digestive tract. Eventually they were close enough that they managed to push out through my torn and gaping colon into the sewage pit. Others followed at a gushing rush. I could feel them crawl over my thighs, up my stomach, down toward my knees. Then my stomach began to squirm as the other end began to hatch. It only grew worse and worse as they crawled their way down into my bowels and up my throat, even through my sinuses and out my nose.

In the end, my digestive tract was voided, every worm escaped one way or another, and my ruined colon stretched out between my legs, prolapsed. My stomach hung, empty, from my ribs and pelvis. The reproductive trauma ended, but the physical and mental trauma continued as my mind stuttered and body faltered. I felt so cold, and ached skin to bone. “So cold, why was it so damned cold?”

5

They found her remains two months later when the honey dipper truck drained the pit. Not one worm remained, no evidence of what had happened other than her rotting bones. Upon further inspection, they found fractures in her pelvis and jaw consistent with violent penetration. The case was put away unsolved, rape, murder, and disposal below the outhouse. Jim and Dave were taken in for questioning, but nothing could be pinned on them and their stories matched accounts by others.

As for the parasites? They returned to the muck near the bottom of the sea and hibernated for another quarter century or so. Some day they would find another fertile swamp—or sewage pit—to spawn.

03/13/2021

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