Chapter 2 by Gambio

Which one of these trash-fests do you want to read about?

My Roommate Is Possessed By A Brain Slug, by Zeebop

“A Brain Slug? Really. I know I say that a lot, but that is one disgusting username.”

“Actually, that is not an username, Gina.”

“What?”

“That last part is part of the title.”

“...what?”

“Today, we are reading My Roommate Is Possessed By A Brain Slug, by Zeebop."

“Of course we do. I’m not even surprised. Who else, but fucking dickgirl-guy could write a porn story about a slug who invades brains?”

“As it happens, with an amazing likes per chapter ratio of 31, this is actually Zeebop’s most popular story.”

“A story about a brain slug.”

“Yes, I am just as intrigued as you are, Gina.”

“So, not at all?”

“What could possibly garner such a positive reception? I am very curious what this story is about.”

“Geez, Marcie. I wonder what this is about. What could “my roommate is possessed by a brainslug” possibly be about?”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Gina. Anyways, we are not slugs, so without further ado.”

READING IN PROGRESS (BGM)

"I've had roommates before," Mel Arkwright said. "At the orphanage."

“Oh, look Marcie, finally a character that appeals to you. One with no parents.”

“Gina please. This guy is a loser. Unlike me.”

“Uhu. Is that why you ordered a bunch of dildos?”

“That is not part of the review! What is, is our protagonist Mel, who is roommate to a girl possessed by a brain slug.”

“So far we could have literally just stared at the title and would have received the exact same amount of information.”

“Then how is this for an interesting tidbit. Brainslugs are something akin to immigrants to this world. Only with more legal protection. I wonder if this is a reference to illegal immigrants.”

“The only illegal thing is everything in this fucking story.”

“Well, Jordan for one is not, because she let herself get infected willingly. Which is a legal thing humans can apparently do.”

“Weirdo.”

Did an alien slug love the smell after the rain? Or a drink of water so cold it made your teeth hurt? Could it appreciate long walks on the beach, or was that a waste of energy that an apex predator would rather preserve? Would a brain slug possess a host just because it presented the best option for survival, or was it smart enough to seek out a host who could have the experiences it desired?

“Mel is deeply intrigued about what makes these brain slugs tick and how much autonomy their host still has.”

“Again, weirdo.”

“Gina, please.”

“Oh, come on! This bitch is a vegetable at best, Marcie. The guy might as well go fuck a carrot.”

“I admit, Mel has some...interesting tastes when it comes to sexual gratification.”

“Coming from Marcie, that’s saying something.”

Mel rewound and watched it again. The tissues laid out on his chest. Jeans unzipped. Excuses momentarily forgotten as days of pent-up desire found expression in swift, **** strokes with fingers and thumb. Eyes locked on the screen as he replayed those few seconds over and over. Mel had never really had a thing for pregnant chicks, but stimulation was stimulation, and something about the changing body worked for him. The sight of those growing breasts, of that little parasite in her womb growing bigger and heavier, making her gait shift, the nipples darken and swell; her placid, serene face as her body grew…

“Is this fetus porn? Because if it is I’m calling the cops.”

“I think this is what is commonly referred to as a pregnancy fetish, Gina.”

“You mean the stuff those freaks in Harem Hotel are all into?”

“Not quite. These perverts enjoy the act of propagating. This one seems specifically about the child in the womb.”

“So...you want me to call the cops?”

“Not yet.”

Marvellous Mollusc Mating Rituals, a documentary in which a breathless Canadian woman narrated the reproductive habits of various slimy critters.

“I do like how Marvellous is spelled in British English or, well, Canadian. Regardless what you say about Zeebop, he is very diligent.”

“Isn’t that the name of that rich guy who owns a truckload of shares in our company?”

“Sir Caspian Marvelous, yes, But that has nothing to do with this review.”

“Ok, we’re about twenty chapters in and so far the most erotic thing is this guy jerking off and the brain slug sucking the sperm out of the trash. Which is to say not erotic at all but very, very dickgirl-guy.”

“I guess you could say...this story moves at a snail’s pace.”

“Wouldn’t sluggish be more appropriate, Marcie?”

“…”

“I’m just saying.”

“The story does a pretty good job at subtle worldbuilding. The place does not quite feel dystopian, but life is clearly horrible enough that people choose brainslugs as a form of legally allowed suicide.”

“Wow, Marcie. Put like this, this is pretty dark.”

“Perhaps, but one the bright side, there is an entire new genre of erotica porn born out of brainslug possessed obsessed people.”

“That is not very bright, Marcie.”

“And speaking of not very bright, we have Antonio.”

“Joining the ever growing list of characters named Tony that are assholes.”

“Well, Gina, perhaps this one is not so bad?”

“Nah, Marcie. Antonio proves he’s an asshole by making snails for dinner.”

“I concur. French Food. Brrr...”

"Tell her dinner's ready," Antonia said curtly. "Now."

“Sudden sex change?”

“Apparently, a genuine mistake on Zeebops part. His writing, while very good, does have the odd typo in it, every now and then.”

“It also has the odd dick in it every now and then.”

“Gina, please.”

Soong was on the floor, topless, screaming. Antonio was on top of her. The blade of one of those chef's knives at the base of where her brain slug met the skin of her neck. Blood, human and brain slug, oozed down her neck.

“FUCK YOU, TONY!”

“So, Antonio reasoned that he fancies his stupid slug slut Soong better without the slug sections and strives to surgically sever said slug.”

“Yeah, let’s attack the collective hivemind full of slug people! Might as well turn Tony over to the hive, he’s braindeath already.”

“Luckily Mel comes to the rescue and manages to prevent the slug homocide.”

“Mel’s pretty alright.”

“Indeed he is, I like how he still comes to work with his foot being stabbed because his boss demands. it. Now that is a model employee!”

“Don’t masturbate to it, Marcie.”

“Gina, even I have my limits.”

“Ok, so while Mel is busy being a wage ****, Tony gets murdered by slugs. It’s like that one scene from the movie.”

“Which movie?”

“You know, the one with that pointing screeching guy who goes all WEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH!!!!”

“Invasion of the Body snatchers?”

“Nah, it was something else.”

“I am pretty sure it is Invasion of the Body snatchers, Gina.”

“Whatever. Tony is dead! Good riddance! You fuck!”

“One of the funniest aspects of this story is the humanizing of things that are decidedly not human. The brain slugs do intend to ultimately take over earth and any restraint on their part is purely for strategic purposes. I do wonder if this is an allusion to the great replacement theory.”

“Yeah, I mean, I like sharks but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck them!”

“I...do not even want to begin to unravel your logic here, Gina.”

“Whatever! Jordan’s sister shows up! And she doesn’t have a slug. Finally someone with a functional brain.”

“Indeed. And because of that we learn a bit about Jordan’s backstory. It is basically what you expect it to be. Brainslugs are essentially a metaphor to suicide.”

“Great, this shit will just be fucking depressing, will it?”

"She tried to pick up the pieces, but it was like something went out of her. She lost interest in life, in eating, in everything. I wanted to get her to a psychiatrist, treated for depression—and then she started disappearing. Hours at a time. Out in the city. Then back at home, to sleep and spend hours online. I didn't know, then, anything about brain slugs. You can't just walk up off the street and join. They run a physical, and there's a government-mandated psychiatric exam. She told me about that. I thought she was getting help."

“Is this a reference to affirmative action?”

“Marcie, this is dickgirl-guy we are talking about. He doesn’t do any of this shit.”

“True enough, I suppose. Sometimes a story about brain slugs is just a story about brain slugs.”

Her boxers twitched. Something moved there, between her legs. Something black and sleek, semi-translucent as it pushed out through the front opening. The brain slug huge as it extended itself over his mouth. This close, he could see the small hole on the underside of the head that served the brain slug as a mouth, lined with teeth almost too small to see. A tiny lamprey mouth that could latch, hold, chew, suck—

“Dick-girl guy if your intention is to make fucking lamprey eels erotic then please stick you dick in one first.”

There was an old-fashioned clipboard, sheet, and pen. Rachel signed first; Mel bit his lip as he struggled with the letters and was unhappy at the result.

“There is a bit of interesting world-building that Mel is not very proficient in penmanship. As writing becomes less and less important I do wonder if a skill we once considered essential simply becomes a relic of the past.”

“That’s very cool, Marcie. But I got a bit distracted by Mel having a dream about being a brain slug. This guy needs therapy.”

“And now he has to deliver a baby. Mel really has his work cut out for him.”

“Oh, we hit fifty chapters.”

“Indeed, we have. I think we have reached a decent chunk so I say we stop this review here.”

“You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Well, what is your verdict, Gina?”

“It’s a story about fucking brainslugs, Marcie. What the fuck do you think?”

“I mean, you did not vomit. So, that is positive.”

“Yeah, fine. For a story about brainslugs, it was not as disgusting as I expected. I mean, it is pretty disgusting but I have read worse from dickgirl-guy. This one’s actually one of his tamer stories in that sense.”

“Really?”

“Compared to 100 candles, this is nothing.”

“There is quite a bit of slice of life quality to this. Mel gets to work, gets his penis milked dry by his slugroommates and repeat.”

“Which we didn’t talk about. Like at all.”

“Hmm, you want to talk about the penis milking, Gina?”

“You know what? I’m good.”

“Well, I would not go so far as to call it repetitive but I would like to see a somewhat tighter narrative.”

“Meh, we know how this ends, Marcie.”

“We do, Gina?”

“Mel’s totally gonna end up with a brainslug too. It’s one of those super depressing stories.”

“That would certainly be rather bleak.”

“That or he takes over the hive and becomes some sort of Slug Body borror Queen that is on 24/ impregnation duty.”