The Brain Infestation Path

Of course I knew what I would do with the worms. I had known for a long time what I would have done in a situation like this...which had always been just a dream, a wicked fantasy spawned by the fucked up erotica I stumbled upon on a cold fall morning.

Alone at home, I had been browsing porn websites, when, link by link, I swam through a river of mind-control erotic content. At one point, I struck gold. Or, more appropriately, I struck the entrance to a moist, dark, wretched cave full of parasitic beasts. The story I read head a girl encounter these parasitic worms who invaded all of her orificies... ALL of them. The pussy, the anus, the mouth...the ears...the nostrils...the nipples. Where would these parasites go from there? Inside the motherly embrace of her womb, first of all, kissing her ovaries, nestling beyond her cervix. Inside her intestines, where they clensed her flesh, wriggling with life down to up. The girl was loving it. No...the girl was in a hellish version of heaven, the pain had been overwritten by all the pherormones and adrenaline. She needed more. The worms that nestled inside her milk ducts spawned eggs which fed on the rich fatty tissues, activating her lactation. She tasted herself, she came to realize how delicious her body was. But she had more to offer. She had something so tasty inside of her, a crevice more private, more precious than her womb, intestines, and even bosom. The worms could sense it, her treasure, they felt its warmth from outside, as they wriggled around and then inside her earlobes.

Her brain.

She wanted to offer her brain to them. Unfortunately, those creatures in the story never ventured inside.

This created in me my most fetish...I needed to know what it feels like to offer your most valuable place to creatures that will make it its home.

I could barely contain my excitement. I had the hardest boner I have ever experienced for hours straight, trying to distract my mind from the wriggling babies inside my bag, which I so desperately wanted to hold. They were alive, real brain worms, real parasites like those in the story...they were twisting and turning with a box as their host. Soon, I could give them a better host...a warm host made of flesh. All I needed to do was wait: wait for the school day to be over, wait for them to be hungry, wait for them to receive their dinner.

The hands of the clock mounted on the white, sterile classroom wall dragged itself to the final hour. The school bell rang. I had paid no attention to any of the words spoken by the professor, barely acknowledging my friends, as I wave them goodbye in a hurry.

I swallow loudly as I pick up my back.

My babies...

Soon, I will give you a warm nest, all for you, only for you.