The FT Virus - Chapter 1

Kylie was not, sadly, the type to fall down a conspiracy theory rabbit hole. As such, she came to the conclusion that it was both time to (and too late to) begin worrying about this issue around the same time as everyone else. When Lydia MacAverie was being railed on live TV by the same 'dick girls' who, just days before, most had been convinced, or were still convincing themselves, either didn't exist or were a non-issue, that was about the time it became too difficult for most to deny it to themselves any longer.

Her instincts were, like many, to distrust the fifth columnist broadcast she had just heard, and head somewhere safe. First stop would be her apartment, and the store below it, but after that... well, he'd think of a plan along the way. The whole walk home, she kept looking over her shoulder. Everyone around seemed the same. No one wanted to walk too closely to anyone else... fear was setting in.

Then it happened. At the corner of Maple Street, she saw a police van pull up and block the street which so many had been travelling down. Six massive, tall women in what could only be a porn-star's idea of a police woman's uniform, with utterly mind-boggling breasts and... to her dismay, ominously large bulges in their tight shorts, proceeded to round up a few dozen people, all the while with wide, knowing smiles on their faces.

Kylie managed, just in time, to duck back into an alleyway before she was spotted. She broke out into a full sprint after catching her breath, and proceeded to move through back gardens and alleys instead. Hopping fences, she was able to make good time, but in the distance the sound of sirens was echoing. She somehow knew that that wasn't the sound of the real government here to sort things out.

Taking out her phone, she found she had no signal. Well, her phone had a signal, but it wasn't the one she'd signed a contract for. “FUTA” was imprinted next to the bars, and the bars had been replaced with tiny erect cocks. When she tried to make a phone call out, she got redirected to an emergency help line, with a sultry woman's voice at the other end.

“Hello? How can you be helped?”

“Hi, look, um... I'm in Pemberton. There's... there's infected people here. The cops. They're all infected...” she stammered, barely able to rationalize all he had seen.

“Really? In Pemberton you say?” she replied, tongue against her lips.

“Yeah. Uh... look, there's... they're rounding people up. I need help. You need to send in the cops... no, they're gone. The army. The national guard! Something!”

“Calm down, sweetie. Just stop where you are right now, and take a deep breath.”

Kylie did as she said, resting against a stone wall which backed on to an industrial estate.

“Now, can you tell me where you are exactly?” she continued,

“I was heading home... I'm... right now I...” he began, before turning around. He had managed to get lost in the drive to put distance between himself and... them.

“That's okay baby...” she said softly, with Kylie starting to get a little annoyed at how overly-familiar her language was given the situation, “just describe where you are for me.”

“Listen, I'm serious. Do you know what's going on here? Do you not see Lydia MacAverie getting fucking pounded on live TV!?”

“You just told me dear, I promise, I'm listening and writing down every word you say... now... where are you...?” she soothed.

“It's an industrial estate, I'm-” she began, before stopping, a cold chill running down her spine. She held her phone at arms length, as if it was a dangerous serpent.

“Still there sweet thing?” came the quiet voice of the, she now realized, infected operator, “I can tell you're scared, but you have nothing to worry about. We only want to help you. Sit down on the ground for me like a good boy, and I can track your phone's signal, okay sweetie?”

Kylie dropped her phone to the ground and, with a moment's trepidation, began to stamp on it. Considering how easily smartphones broke when you dropped them, she was frustrated with how long it took her slight frame to destroy the device – at least to the point she was sure they couldn't track it any more.

She took off through the industrial estate, moving between trucks, careful not to be out in the open too long. She was suddenly aware just how far this conspiracy must have run to get to this point. The cops... the emergency lines... the phone companies... the news... how deep did it go?

Kylie ducked back behind a truck, before crawling underneath it, as she heard, before she saw, two large women approaching. Each sported what, again, could only in a wet dream be charitably considered a delivery driver's uniform, and seemed only to make each woman seem more naked than being nude. Kylie eyed them with suspicion, and listened in as they together lifted and removed a massive crate from the truck. Kylie almost squeaked in shock as the crate hit the ground, and one lifted it onto a loading cart, but managed to stay silent.

“Did you see that slut on the news?” said one, with relish.

“Oh my god... I've always had a crush on her... but now I might actually get a chance to fuck her,” said the other, and Kylie could swear she could hear the woman drooling.

“Looks like she was ready to give in before she even got infected,” the first added, stopping to stretch her back.

Kylie couldn't help but gawk from behind the crate at the massive figure of the woman, easily eight feet in height, and with breasts that were making Kylie's own respectable bust feel muted in comparison. She clenched her own chest defensively for a moment... before her eyes were drawn down to the monstrous shaft which was straining to break out of the feeble cloth prison its owner had it trapped in.

Kylie couldn't help but run a hand across her nipple for a moment, drinking in the sight of that breathtaking cock, before blinking a few times and feeling as if she had dozed off. She gasped as she pulled her other hand back, it having been only inches away from that gargantuan penis.

“What was that?” the first woman asked, and the other simply shrugged.

“Right, let's get this stuff inside. The faster we dump it the sooner the supply will be saturated.”

The two titanic women casually strolled back towards the building behind them, 'Municipal Waterworks'.

'Saturated?' Kylie asked herself under her breath, before retreating the way she had come from.

She could worry about it later, she told herself, and managed to scale the wall closer to the river. If she followed that, she'd be home soon.