When she awoke, Chary was hungry. Starving, in fact; odd since she’d only eaten a few hours before. Her muscular abdomen churned with a greedy demand, and finding it only a little strange that it had become so hungry so soon, she went to obey its longing cries. Within an hour she had eaten several fish and a small shark, letting the bones drift away as she picked her teeth with her hunting knife. But a few minutes later the cry sounded again: more food, more.

A bit concerned now, as she had eaten plenty, Chary darted in between seaweed and around rocky protuberances, snatching stray fish and even the occasional crab. Sirens had no trouble eating their meat raw, but even Chary’s hardy stomach groaned as it was gorged beyond capacity. By the end of the day she’d lost count of how much she’d eaten, and beached herself on a sand bar to rub her aching, bulging stomach.

That night as she drifted in the current, half-asleep and bloated, unable to swim with her heavy load, the second parasite found her.

It was sheer bad fortune that landed Chary in this particular stretch of water at this particular time. Given the proclivities of the era, it is possible the gods had something to do with it, although many mortals would have argued that not even malicious Poseidon would inflict such invasive horrors on an innocent.

The second parasite, at any rate, was a variety of sea slug accustomed to living under the fins or in between the dew-flaps of seals and sea lions. It had not had a host for several days, and eagerly sought out the warm mass of flesh that was Chary’s drifting body.

It scurried over her frame, its tiny tentacles probing. The arms: too splayed, a current could easily wash it away. The breasts: too small, not enough of a refuge to hide under. But right around where the tail met the torso was a tender opening that looked like just the perfect size. . .

Chary woke with a start as something wriggled over her genitalia. The surge of adrenaline in her body awoke the worm, which had grafted to her tongue harmlessly and seamlessly. It patiently waited to see if its host was under attack, and if so, choose the proper moment to escape.

The sea slug for its part was halfway in by the time Chary grasped at its colorful surface. But the slime that the thing exuded was too viscous for the siren to get ahold of the creature, and it happily squeezed into her warmest orifice, its nearly liquid shape filling every crack and aperture.

Terrified and confused, the siren reached for the creature, grabbing inside of herself frantically. The slug’s defense mechanism kicked in: it swelled up, pulling in water to wedge itself tightly inside of Chary. The resultant sensation for her was both crippling and extremely confusing: on the one hand, it was a violation of her body, but on the other, no male had ever filled her up so completely and perfectly.

Then the slug began to quiver, deflating slightly, and the rush of now-warm water over Chary’s clitoris combined with the pleasurable vibration completely paralyzed her with confusion and lust. She groaned and bucked in the water, her tail thrashing in the moonlit sea.

The slug’s vibrations were due to its desire to warm itself and its surroundings further—and warm they did. Pleased in its own way, the slug maintained its pulsing motion until dawn, when the water warmed and it finally fell still.




Shovelling down shellfish meat the next day, Chary could only wonder what had happened to her. Powerless to remove the slug and at the mercy of her new chemically induced appetite, she could only writhe in embarrassed pleasure when the sea slug decided her inside was too cold and stuff herself even though she’d had enough food for a week at least.

The next few days passed in a blur of bizarre sensations and aquatic gluttony. Streamlined and slender by nature, the siren’s body was trained by ancestry to store all excess calories in case of a frigid winter current, and she rapidly began to put on weight. The worm in its hunger had overdosed her with the simple appetite stimulant it had introduced into her bloodstream, and she ate uncontrollably, often suffering the pains of indigestion right alongside the indescribable pleasure of sexual excitement. The two parasites, unaware of each other, continued their roles unconcerned with the mental state of their host, who rapidly despaired of ever returning to her siren clan. The hunger had driven her into strange waters to feed, and she no longer recognized the coastline or the seafloor.

So, unable to find any sirens to help her with her new “passengers,” she ate, and ate. As weeks passed by her svelte torso swelled and bulged into a cushiony thickness, and her slim tail became heavy and blubbery. All the while the worm grew, till it was large enough to reach out and snatch passing fish and drag them into Chary’s mouth while she slept, feeding her even as she rested.

The more she ate, the larger she got; and the larger she got, the slower and more cumbersome she became. Weighed down by increasing amounts of fatty flesh, Chary would have become easy prey for sharks if not for the repellents emitted by the sea slug, a far more symbiotic partner than the annelid. As it was, she went unmolested in her rampant grazing, and inside of two months had become a flabby cow of a siren, unable to stop eating and undisturbed by her natural predators. Her speed, hampered by the periodic vibrations of the slug and her own size, made her an easy mark for smaller organisms undeterred by the shark repellant.

Her breasts, petite and perky before, had fattened into round melons of flesh, the skin strained and stretched by rapid weight gain. This condition made her a target for a peculiar brand of mollusk, a creature that frequently attached itself to the teats of new mothers in the ocean to receive bolstering leftover nutrients. Finding no such materials, the irritated animals injected her with a chemical that induced mammary swelling, and clung on to her nipples so tightly she was afraid to pull them off. Night and day they teased her teats, patiently waiting for their cocktail of symbiotic hormones to take effect. And on the third night, it did, with Charey gasping as her breasts became first sore and then leaky. The mollusks eagerly suckled the milk and jetted off, leaving her to massage her painfully swollen breasts in an effort to relieve them.

The leak of milk into the water brought dozens of similar mollusks to her bosom, their hard shells jostling as they crammed onto her chest. She fought to dislodge them to no avail; they clung tighter than barnacles and her horror did not outweigh her reluctance to tear her skin in such warm, shark-filled waters. So she closed her eyes and went back to feeding, stuffing seaweed in her mouth even as countless shells fought for position around her oozing nipples.
It was truly a mercy that the milk-shells had not evolved to meld with a host; they simply came and went as they pleased. But there were so many that inevitably her teats ran dry at times, and those mollusks that found her empty angrily prodded her with chemical prongs, loading her breasts with the same chemical the first few had used.

In this way Chary became host to several different species, each of which inadvertently contributed to her growth. The slug kept her from too much physical activity: strong currents running over her vagina alarmed it and set it to vibrating to keep warm, preventing her from fast swimming or deep diving. The worm grew longer and larger, until she no longer needed to catch food with her hands: it could shoot out and retrieve fish for her easily. The mollusk colonies, of course, continued their cycle of injection and harvest until she finally passed out of their territory. By now her breasts were enormous, great bags of pale skin that swelled into boulder-sized globes overnight and needed to be squeezed and emptied every morning. Her endless feeding carried her weight well beyond anything a siren had ever achieved; inside of a year she weighed almost half a ton. She had become so grossly fat that her tail barely propelled her through the water: the worm did almost all of her feeding for her, and she often drifted mindlessly chewing and swallowing for days.

The day came at last when she was too enormous to swim. Beaching herself in a tidal rock drift, the immensely bloated sea-girl wheezed and jiggled during low tide, and fed on the myriad coastal organisms that passed by when the tide was high. Unwittingly she had parked herself in the middle of a major ocean current, and so food was plentiful, exacerbating her condition.

When the first Greek explorers found her, she had taken to sucking up enormous quantities of water to satisfy her unending appetite, filling her vast form and then expelling it from herself later. This flow eventually served to finally dislodge the sea slug, and it flopped away to find a new home.

Her reason slightly restored, she thus began to plan her escape from immobility. Though the worm had become large enough to actually fend off attackers, she needed to find some way to get her body to release its grip on the stored fat she had accumulated. Powerless to escape the rocks at her size, she settled for a new plan: the use of her long-dormant siren talents. Her ululating song roused people from their beds, and once in a great while, driven by the pheromones she emitted, sailors or fishermen would leave their boats and go to her, coupling with her in a fit of helpless lust. The worm did not appreciate these newcomers, so she made sure to stockpile food to give it while the men gave her the closest thing she could possibly get to exercise. After a year of such treatment, she had finally gotten small enough to langorously roll off of the rock shelf and into the sea. . . and the worm, fed to a gargantuan volume, at long last detached itself and slithered away.

Bloated and still riddled with stimulants, Chary returned to her home waters, barely escaping many predators.

But she found they had no place for her. Her appetite, still prodigious, and her strangely gigantic breasts alienated them, and so she did the only thing she knew how to do: kept eating. Lonely and despondent, she would often strand herself onshore and call out for love, mating with hundreds of mortal to assuage her lack of family or friends.

The mollusks, interestingly enough, followed her frequently through the straits, and their venom had a curious side effect: unnaturally long life. Many a grandfather warned his son of the lustful naiad and her carnal embrace that he himself had fallen into; and many a grandson disobeyed his grandfather to follow the scent on the wind and the sound in the air to where the sea-nymph lay, bloated and bleating, begging for the touch her misfortune had denied her from her fellow kind.

This is awesome. Thanks for writing this.

>>540

You really think so? What did you enjoy about it? I figured it was much too /d/eviant for the general populace, and was actually considering taking it to 4chan.

Very nice. :D

>>543

So much kink--

1. protagonist/victim some sort of humanoid cetacean
2. protag is fattened by invertebrates
3. protag is fattened against her will and drags men in against their will-- so there's some thrilling power dynamics.

also the descriptions were good and I was happy to find something that was so different.

Hope you find a job soon though. Unemployment sucks.

Wow, that was pretty awesome

delicious story.