Tapewyrmin’

A Sexually Transmitted Horror Story

By

Judith Sonnet

Copyright © 2023 Judith Sonnet

ISBN: 9798865009931

10/21/2023

Imprint: Independently Published

All Rights Reserved

Printed in the USA

Cover and wrap designed by Christy Aldridge (Grim Poppy Design)

The events, characters, and locations in this book are all fictional or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to reality is unintended and coincidental.

This book may not be reprinted without the author’s written permission, unless in part for the purposes of reviews.

Other Books by Judith Sonnet

No One Rides for Free

Hell

Summer Never Ends

Repugnant (The Goddamned Edition)

For the Sake Of

The Clown Hunt

They Want us Gone

Deep Dark

Toxic

I’m Your Papa

EELS!

Beast of Burden

Psych Ward Blues

WARNING

By holding this book . . . you have now contracted an STD.

Sorry.

PRAISE FOR JUDITH SONNET

PSYCH WARD BLUES

“PSYCH WARD BLUES by Judith Sonnet will take you by surprise. The violence is extreme, the action intense, and the emotions raw and honest. Apocalyptic horror with heart. What more could you possibly ask for?” Gord Rollo, author of Jigsaw Man.

“Judith once again succeeds in combining gore and emotion. There’s not a bad story in this book.” Aiden Messer, author of Pet.

SUMMER NEVER ENDS

“Wow. This book was something else. ( . . . ) This one has the potential to be a career defining book for the author.” John Lynch, author of The Warrior Retreat.

“As someone who was forced to go to church camp (aka the weekend from hell), this reading experience was CATHARTIC.” Mique Watson, author of Them.

“A dark and brutal novella with themes of religious hypocrisy and the lengths a parent might go through to protect their children, which in the case of this book is way, way too far.” Duncan Ralston, author of Woom.

THE CLOWN HUNT

“Love it. The opening scene is suspenseful and brutal, followed by a strong focus on the main character, Willow. Then the very fast-paced hunt begins. From this point on, if you’re looking for carnage, every chapter is practically written in blood. I know one of the deaths will stick with me for a looong time. (“Wishbone!”) I really appreciate that it did so much to change up the formula while still feeling like a slasher.” Jon Athan, author of Shared by Two.

“The author warned us that the book would be filled with extreme blood, gore, and torture. She most certainly delivered.” A.M. Molloy, author of South.

REPUGNANT

“This book blew me away. Well written characters, an interesting plot, and extremely gory descriptive kills!” Donna Latham, author of Finding Heaven.

“Halloween Kills meets The Resurrectionist.” Mique Watson, author of Them.

HELL

“So, what we have here is a goddamn Italian masterpiece. You like Fulci? You do? Cool. Then you found the right book. This is a great piece that gives you all the Fulci vibes and retains that Sonnet style.” Brian Berry, author of Snow Shark.

“If you enjoy extreme horror, transgressive fiction, or Italian splatter films, you’re gonna have an infernal blast with HELL.” Brian Bowyer, author of Flesh Rehearsal.

“If you’re a ‘70’s Italian Horror fan, this book is a MUST READ.” Michael Louise Dixon, author of Sick.

“When it comes to horror, Judith Sonnet fucking gets it. HELL reads like a doctoral dissertation on surreal splatter. But a lot more playful, illogical, and icky. This is one novel this year you don’t want to miss.” Lucas Mangum, author of Saint Sadist.

NO ONE RIDES FOR FREE

“Just know this book isn’t for you if you aren’t in the right headspace or can’t handle even mild gory horror. But if you want some extreme horror done by a master, this book doesn’t disappoint.” A.M. Molloy, author of South.

“Great story, totally icky, but has the power of good storytelling. This is extreme, so be prepared, but Judith does a great job of maintaining the dread throughout.” Chris Miller, author of Dust.

FOR THE SAKE OF

“Something like this is not that impossible in the real world. Every day a new atrocity dwarves the last one.” Otis Bateman, author of Maggot Girl.

“And I thought Edward Lee was grotesque. This book takes it to another level in a good way. Highly entertaining and not for the weak!” Keith Bruton, author of The Lemon Man.

BEAST OF BURDEN

“Interesting characters and prose that pulls you in leads to a climax of super-splatter that will have fans of Extreme Horror quivering in gooey excitation! Not for the squeamish!” William Schoell, author of Saurian.

“This is Judith Sonnet’s Stand By Me, and in turn, she wrote Stand By Me for the metal kids. As a metal kid myself, I appreciate it.” Lucas Mangum, author of Saint Sadist.

Shout out to my 10-dollar patrons!

Thank you for helping me keep my lights on!

Carrie White-Shields

Damaris Quinones

Sabrina Akley

Marc Scharbach (A Podcast on Elm Street)

Mary Curran

Don Taylor

Megan Fountain

Kris Bentley

Let me just start off by saying that I’m not a pervert.

I’ve never really done anything like this.

Hell, I was a virgin until my senior year of High School—making due with the odd hand-job and sometimes twice-daily masturbation.

My first time was actually with my cousin.

I know people think that’s weird—and maybe I do too—but that’s who it was and there is no changing that.

I’m not a pervert . . . I just like to explore if I’m given the opportunity.

I don’t think I could possibly say no to a girl–any girl. If a geriatric coated in sores and leaking snot opened her legs then I’d jump right in. I’m open to any kink, any figure, and any woman.

The problem is that I’m just not very fuckable.

I don’t take very good care of myself.

I mean, I shower every day, I wash my hair, and my complexion isn’t beyond bad. I’m just a weakling. My arms are scrawny and my belly is full. I’m not really ugly; I’m just unappealing and forgettable.

I’m excessively average.

This was why Amira’s attraction to me was confusing.

What did a junior girl that beautiful see in a gimpy freshman with crooked teeth, a premature beer belly, and arms like twigs?

How can I describe her without clichés?

She stood out.

Amira stood the fuck out.

Black hair cut to the nape of her towering neck, breasts that seemed to push out of her clothes, legs that looked unrealistically elastic. A cold smile and eyes that let you know that you didn’t deserve to look at her, much less imagine her naked.

I tried masturbating to her Facebook pictures but felt too guilty to finish.

Amira and I shared no classes, barely spoke, and sat on opposite ends of the dining hall.

She captivated me.

I would stare at her at parties when she was dancing and drinking with her friends. During freshman initiation, she had handed me a joint—I had never tasted pot before so I had no idea that it was just chamomile tea rolled into a cigarette. All of the freshmen were pretending to be high as we carried a group of heavy upperclassmen on our shoulders through the campus. Her fingertips touched mine briefly as she passed me the false joint and I accepted it greedily. Thankful to be holding something that she’d held in her perfect hands.

There was no way I could say “no” to Amira . . . even when every bone in my body told me I should—

×

I heard the rumor that she was into me from a buddy of mine. We were studying for a test on Ancient Greek and I was struggling. I’m not a smart kid—it was my parent’s idea that I go to a prestigious liberal arts college—and Greek was one of my weakest subjects. I was staring at the words and hoping they would make sense when Rodney threw a paper ball at me.

“Amira was asking about you.”

“Huh?”

“She was asking around about you. Wanted to know where you are from, if you have a girlfriend—”

“Huh?” I repeated. My eyes were huge.

“She could have been more subtle. She seemed desperate to find you. She seemed bummed when you didn’t show.”

I had skipped yesterday’s party. I had been tired of coming back to my dorm un-laid. I’d instead spent the night looking for YouTube videos of cute cats running into walls.

The one night I stay in and the hottest girl in school suddenly becomes thirsty for me?

Just my luck!

“What do you mean, man? What did she say?”

Rodney adjusted his glasses. “Amira came up to me last night and asked if you had a girlfriend. I said you’d be lucky to screw roadkill—kidding. I’m just kidding. Jeez. Lightin’ up, shrimpy. Anyways, she then told me that she’d do anything to fuck you.”

My jaw dropped.

Rodney may have been joshing me. But he seemed sincere so I gave him the benefit of a doubt . . . but his story was so unbelievable! I didn’t know what to say, so I went to my go-to:

“Huh?”

“I told her that you were free any time she was, but she just kind of drifted away. Maybe she was drunk. I don’t know, man. Hey, let’s go to the cafeteria soon. My stomach is growling.”

“Uhm—You go ahead.” I needed to think about what I had just been told, and I was worried that I may run into Amira in the cafeteria.

If Rodney wasn’t shitting me and she really wanted me that bad, there was no way I could run into her looking how I did that day. I had forgotten to shower and my body odor was giving me a headache.

I ran out of the library once Rodney left and darted across campus to my dorm. I stripped, ran through the shower, and stood naked with a towel around my waist in front of the mirror in my dorm.

I looked even thinner and wimpier than ever before.

What was worse, a circlet of pimples had started to form between my nipples.

My skin looked breakable.

I never truly hated myself until that moment.

I couldn’t imagine making love to Amira. She would laugh me away.

Rodney was a bastard for telling me those lies about her.

How could Amira ever see me as even remotely attractive? My red eyes and barbs of facial hair were sure to illicit the opposite reaction.

I was about to vow revenge on Rodney when a sound disrupted my thoughts.

There was a knock on the door.

I absentmindedly opened it, thinking it was my dorm-mate or RA—both upperclassmen and both losers.

“Rodney told me you were here,” Amira said.

I almost dropped my towel once I comprehended who it was that was standing at my doorstep.

“A-A-Amira?” I hissed.

“Hullo, Clyde.” Her huge eyes scanned my feeble body and—I swear to God—she licked her lips with genuine lust.

I felt as if I was under a microscope.

Naturally, my dick started to jump.

I pinched it between my thighs, hoping it wasn’t obvious.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because, I want you to fuck me.”

My heart froze. I couldn’t help but question her. How could she think I’d just accept that? Maybe this was a hazing ritual. I thought those formalities were done now that we were approaching our second semester, but maybe this was part of some weird last-minute prank.

“I’m . . . I’m confused.”

“About what?” Amira pushed past me and slithered into my dorm. I wished that I had had more time or warning beforehand. My room was a mess. There was a half-eaten apple on my desk, a smelly pizza box in the corner, and a pile of dust and tangled hair in each corner. My bed was unmade and the sheets had been pulled out, revealing the dirty mattress underneath. There was absolutely no way she would fuck me here. No way in hell.

Yet . . . she was unzipping the side of her skirt.

“Is this a joke?”

“No. I need you.”

“You . . . need me?”

Her skirt fell past her knees and landed in a rumbled ball by her ankles. My heart skipped a beat and I instantly memorized the sight of her backside. She was wearing tight blue panties that hugged the crease between her rounded buttocks. The faint dent of her crack peeked over the hem. The skin was paler and softer in this region. She looked at me over her shoulder. Her eyes flashed with actual desire.

Animal lust.

“Why?”

“Don’t question it.” She hooked her fingers underneath the hem of her panties and pulled them down. The sight of her buttocks—pressed tight and dark in between her legs—was enough to make me think that maybe this was a crazy dream and that I would wake up right when it started getting really good.

It's already really, really, really good!

“Oh my God.” I don’t know if I said it or thought it.

She turned around and placed her hands on the curve of her hips. Her vagina was tucked neatly between the thick tops of her thighs. I could see two lips peeking out from the folds of flesh. She had shaved recently.

Had she shaved for me?

I can’t even begin to describe how scared and excited I was.

She undid her buttons and pulled her shirt off. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were small and even, the nipples dark and stiff.

I watched the muscles on her neck bounce, watched her throw her shirt aside, and watched her run a hand down between her legs and up to the space between each breast.

I dropped my towel, waiting to wake up.

She was instantly on me, palming my balls and stroking my cock. My dick was pulsing. She let me slide in between her thighs and she closed them tight over the stern organ.

Then, Amira placed a hand on my backside and drew me towards the bed. Her thighs felt smooth along the sides of my cock. I was worried that I would cum right there . . . but my body didn’t betray me.

She fell backwards onto my bed and pulled me with her.

Only twenty minutes later, and we were done. I couldn’t believe that I had just made love to Amira. My cock was soft and my body was lunging for breath. I could feel sweet sweat cooling in the pits of my knees, along the ridges of my back, and between my buttocks. I sat up and looked over at Amira. She looked as if she hadn’t even broken a sweat. She had a hand resting between her breasts and a small smile scampering on the hems of her mouth.

I had made her happy.

She was impressed.

When I was ten, my father had caught me searching for porn on our family computer. I was watching a video of a woman walking into the woods to change with one of her friends. They stripped and started slapping each other for fun. After their cheeks and rears were red, the two started finger fucking their respective pussies. I had watched a wide variety of porn on the family computer and was beginning to experiment with different fetishes. I was thinking that I really liked watching spankings, but I wasn’t sure yet, so I was testing the grounds.

I was about to watch another video when my father clapped a hand on my back and said, “Son, we need to talk.” He wasn’t mad. He didn’t beat me with his belt and condemn me for my sins . . . instead, he had a long talk with me about how I should respect all women and not mistreat them by sexualizing them, and that porn was the fastest way to fall into the mindset that girls are nothing more than meat.

He also said that I was just too young to think like that and that I didn’t need to worry about sex until I was much older. 

It made sense, and I promised my dad that I would never look up porn again.

The next week, my mom walked in while I was engaged with a video about a sorority hazing—involving sex toys and a floor lined with plastic sheets. The video had been entitled Celebrity Sorority Squirters.

My folks weren’t so sympathetic with me after that.

I think they thought I was a deviant.

Maybe I am . . .

Although, bedding Amira was a fairly vanilla affair. She hadn’t introduced toys, hadn’t told me to slap her face or ass, and didn’t even encourage me to tug at her hair! It had been a simple dip and dive. And still, it was the most electric experience of my life.

Because Amira was gorgeous.

My cousin—the only other gal I’d fucked—hadn’t been. She’d had a lazy eye, a dead tooth, and her pits had been mossy with hair. She’d taken me into the barn with her and started fucking me without asking. I’d gone along with it, more out of curiosity than enthusiasm. When we’d finished, she’d said, “Yeah. Yer alright.”

I’d said nothing in response. I’d merely pulled my pants back up and left the barn. Shaken.

That had been exciting in its own way, but Amira . . . had been heavenly.

My cock in her pussy—

God. It had felt like she had a fist in there, which closed around me and tugged even when we weren’t moving!

Amira stood up from my bed, gathered her clothing, and began to slip back into it. I watched her slide her panties up her thighs and secure them around her bottom with a wild degree of fascination.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I have class at six.”

She smelled of sex . . . stank of it. I wanted to put my nose between her legs and breathe in deep.

“Hey, are we gonna do this again?” I asked. I instantly regretted it. I should have waited a few days, and then called. Isn’t that what you are supposed to do?

“Of course,” she responded. “If you want to.”

“Yeah.”

I wanted her endlessly.

I wanted her over and over again.

I wanted her to smell like me every time she left my room . . . and I wanted to smell like her.

I was hooked.

×

The next day, I ran into Rodney at the cafeteria. He could see my smile and he gave me a clap on the back.

“Did it go well?”

“Did it go well?” I grinned crazily. “Man, it went better than well. I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been.”

“That’s good to hear.” Rodney sipped his cup of tea.

I downed my breakfast as fast as I could and then stood to leave.

“Going so soon?”

“Yeah, man.” I smiled. “I’m going to the gym.”

Rodney threw his head back and laughed. I felt my face go red.

“What?”

“Do you even know where it is?”

“What? The gym? Yeah. Course I know.”

I didn’t.

I had to look at the campus map.

When I got there, I felt hopeless. I don’t know what I wanted to accomplish—maybe I wanted to get in shape for any future lovemaking with Amira.

Once I started pulling at cords and straining with weights, all eyes seemed to be turned on me. I decided to just jog a few laps, play a little solo-basketball, and head out.

Even after a short game of ball, my pits were dark, my hair was stringy, and my lungs became loudspeakers.

I was about to leave when I saw myself in a mirror and started to worry that I may run into Amira—or one of her friends—on my way to the dorm. I had to take a quick shower and clean up here.

I went into the bathroom, stuffed my clothes in a locker, grabbed a towel, and stood under the hot water for a few minutes. I didn’t have any soap or shampoo, so I just prayed that the water would clear my sweat away. It made me less grimy, but I still smelled a bit. I’d have to get to my dorm fast.

On my way to the locker, a figure suddenly barreled toward me. I felt strong hands lift me and pound me against the wall.

I squeaked in fear and shut my eyes. I expected punches . . . taunts . . . maybe even groping . . . but instead one thick hand grabbed me by the cheeks and a recognizable voice said: “Open ‘em!”

I did.

I was surrounded by Todd Clementine and two of his goons. Todd was the stereotype of a high-school jock, stuck in our expensive, prestigious, pretentious school.

He had only made it to college on a scholarship, I’d heard.

Todd wore a buzz cut, and his cheeks were full and all-American.

Another stereotype: for the past month, Todd had been fucking the hottest girl in school until they broke up dramatically only a week ago . . . and last night, she had fucked me.

Possibilities flowed through my head. Had Amira made love to me only because of some drama between her and Todd?

Was Todd about to punish me for her sin?

“Hey, faggot,” Todd said. “I just want to talk.”

“What . . . what do you want?”

“Imma ask two simple questions. You answer them as fast as you can, okay?”

“Okay! Okay!”

“One: did you sleep with Amira?”

“Yes!” I bleated. “Yes! I’m sorry!”

“Two: what did she tell you?”

I paused. What did he mean?

“Tell me?”

“Yeah. What did she say about last week?” He saw my confusion. Todd dropped his arms. “Look . . . I’m not mad at you, okay? Amira isn’t my girlfriend anymore . . . but Christ! Do you know what—” words suddenly seemed to escape Todd. “I mean, if you don’t already know then you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’m sorry?”

He looked at me and I saw tears gleaming in his eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Clyde Snyder.”

“Listen to me, Clyde, and listen close. Don’t fuck her any more. Amira is bad for your health. I can’t explain it . . . but you have got to trust me. I can get you any other bitch on campus if it’s just about sex. I’ll talk you up. Even the teachers will fuck you if I’m your wingman. If its love . . . don’t fall for it man. She’s just tricking you. If you don’t listen to me . . . if you don’t stop fucking her . . . and if things start getting really weird . . . call me, okay? I’m on the circuit board; just ask for my dorm phone. I’ll answer.”

I shook my head. I could feel the room spinning. I think Todd could too.

“I’m sorry. Please, listen to me.” He dipped his head and walked away.

I sat down and caught ahold of my breath. What had he meant? Was Amira a psycho? Was she a crazy ex-girlfriend? Had she hurt Todd somehow?

Amira was fit, but I couldn’t even dream of her—much less anyone—hurting Todd physically. But then again . . . how much did I really know about her?

I stood, gathered my clothing, and left.

×

That night, I waited for Amira. She didn’t show up. I picked up my dorm phone and considered calling Todd and asking for an explanation for his behavior, but I called Rodney instead.

“Hey, man.”

“Yo.”

“Can you give me some gossip?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“What happened between Todd and Amira?”

I could imagine Rodney shrugging. “I don’t know. But it didn’t end well. There have been rumors that Todd has been crying. A few days ago, he left class to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back. Someone went in and found him crying in the stall. Others heard him talking on his phone through his dorm. Apparently he’s been yelling at whoever he’s calling. I think its Amira. I think the poor boy is filling up her voicemail”

“What do you think broke them up?”

“I dunno. He isn’t that smart. Maybe she decided she needed brains instead of brawn.”

“Well, it’s just weird that she would move from him to me. I’m—you know—not smart or strong.”

“Hey, bro, don’t doubt this. This is a dream come true. This isn’t just the best you will ever have . . . this is the best anyone can get.”

There was a knock on my door. I hurried Rodney’s voice away and set the phone down. Quickly, I went to open it.

“Hello, Clyde.” Amira planted a kiss on my lips. One of her hands slipped down and frisked my balls. My legs instinctively closed and I backed away, giving her enough space to come inside. She was already stripping by the time my door was shut.

“Where is your roommate?” She asked, throwing her bra aside.

“Uhm . . . his girlfriend’s dorm.”

“All night?”

“Should be.”

“Mind if I sleep over?”

“No. Feel free.”

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m all vulnerable and you still have your jeans on!” She seemed actually irritated. There was no playfulness in her voice. I remembered everything Todd had said.

I should have trusted my judgment and told Amira to leave me be, just for the night . . .  but I would have looked crazier than Todd if I did that.

How could I reject anything Amira wanted?

I took off my clothes and laid down on my bed.

“Let’s eat out,” she said and climbed on top of me in reverse. She lifted my hard cock with one hand and began to work on the tip, sucking gently and moving the shaft. In her palm and in her lips, all my worries drifted away. There was no chance someone who could fuck this good could be as crazy as Todd had implied.

No way!

I began to part her pussy lips with my tongue and tickle the bud of her clitoris. Juices filled my tongue with spicy flavor and the acidic scent hit my nose with primal force.

I lapped her up.

“Do you want me to squirt on you?” she asked around a mouthful.

I didn’t know. That was an exciting prospect, but I didn’t want to ruin my bed.

Fuck the bed.

I gripped her haunches and pulled her pelvis into my face. I wanted to get lost in her vagina.

“Clyde?” she asked, removing her mouth from my rock-hard prick.

“Yes,” I said, my voice muffled against the folds of her sex. “Yes. Do it.”

Suddenly, there was a spurt of warmth. I could feel fluids filling my mouth and draining out of its sides, tracing trails down my cheeks and collecting around my chin. It tasted sour and sweet all at once.

“Oh my God. Can you do that on command?” I asked.

She snickered. “I can do lots of things.”

Amira wriggled around and another hissing line of juice fell out of her, spattering my eager face.

I closed my eyes and arched my tongue around the soft skin surrounding her slit, and then trailed back to the clit and—

—and I felt something dart across my forehead. It drifted, just against my brow, and then moved up to my hairline, imitating the motion of her hips.

I opened my eyes.

My heart went dead.

My cock turned soft in her mouth.

My breath fell short.

What I saw was never what I expected to see.

Trailing out from her tight anus was a worm.

It wobbled out of her hole for just a moment, and then began to recede back into her body. Her sphincter closed around it and she released a tiny moan, then the worm was just a white dot in the center of her wrinkled hole, then it was gone!

There was no denying what I had seen. A long, flexible, white worm had just crawled from Amira’s ass . . . and it had touched me before going back into her.

“Clyde?” she asked. “Why did you stop?”

I pushed her off of me, stood up and began to get my clothes. “You need to—”

But I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay and keep fucking me.

I just wanted to forget what I had seen.

“Amira . . . I saw . . . a worm . . . ”

“Clyde?”

“I’ll drive you to a hospital. We’ll tell them what I saw and they can take it out of you.”

“Clyde?”

“I’m sorry. I just got scared. I’ll take you to the hospital right now—”

“Clyde! I don’t want the doctors to take them out!”

My face fell.

“You won’t understand yet. They feel amazing!”

I spun around. “What? What do you mean?”

She stood up. “Call Todd and ask him about it. He can tell you. He can tell you how good they feel.” There was a strange sauciness to her voice. It was as if we were discussing a new fetish . . . not a tapeworm. “How about you call Todd . . . make up your mind . . . and I’ll be back in an hour or two and we’ll finish what we started.” She lunged for a kiss and I backed away yet accepted it and relished the taste of her saliva entering my mouth. For a brief moment—while our mouths met—I had forgotten about the worm.

Then, she was dressed and headed to the door. “Call Todd. He can explain it better than I can.”

And she was gone.

I looked at the phone, holding my arms across my breast and shaking. The disgust that flowed through me genuinely hurt. It seemed to shatter my ribs and rupture my stomach.

I felt like throwing up and jacking off at the same time.

My unstoppable sex drive was acting strange. It was recalling the wet tap of the worm on my forehead and making me think about kissing it, about sucking the worm out of her ass, like a noodle from a bowl. About—

I needed to call Todd.

This was the definition of crazy.

I dialed the switchboard and got connected to Todd’s room. He picked up the phone almost instantly.

“Hey, Todd . . . things got scary,” I said.

“Jesus. You should have listened to me.” He sighed on the other end of the line. “What happened?”

Using sparse detail, I described the event and what Amira had said.

“Okay. It didn’t get inside you, did it?”

“No.”

“Did you see any more of them?”

“It was just the one.”

“I’m about to get personal, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Has your dick hurt? Like . . . burns when you pee? Any warts or growths?”

“Not at all.”

“Stop fucking her . . . you are safe for now. Just stop fucking her and move on.”

“Wait! Wait! Man, you gotta tell me what’s going on!”

“What’s going on? I don’t fucking know how to describe it. Can you meet me?”

“Amira is coming back soon . . . ”

“You’re going to ignore her tonight. Don’t let her near you. Once she gets close to you, she has control, okay? Like, you won’t be able to stop yourself as long as you can still smell her.”

He was right. Her sex smell was still in my nose and her flavor was on my tongue—she’d squirted her musk onto my face—and she was all I could think about—had she been marking me?

I wanted to pull the worms out of her myself. I wanted to let them slide between my . . . Jesus Christ! I needed to know what was happening.

“Meet me outside the library. Now.”

He hung up.

I got dressed, put on a rain jacket, and went out. It was drizzling lightly and I could hear thunder in the distance.

I could imagine fucking Amira in rhythm with the rain beating on my window.

I could imagine us rolling in the mud outside, our heels kicking white worms out from the soggy earth . . . mud spilling out from her mouth . . . my penis moving with squirming life—

I swung by a water fountain and drowned my nose in it. I tried scrubbing the scent away, but fractions of it were left. I took a stick of gum out of my pocket, chewed it, then dabbed it against my upper lip, hopping the mint would attach to me.

I left the dorm and ran towards the library.

Todd was waiting on the steps. His hands were stuffed deep in his pockets and his cheeks looked sunken.

“What is this?” I asked, loudly. “What the fuck is happening?”

“Clyde . . . we need to kill her. She won’t stop . . . I know she won’t stop.” He seemed to be talking to himself, because after he said that he looked at me and jumped. “Okay! Good. Follow me.”

He stood and led me back towards the dorms.

“Where are we going?” I raced after him.

He stopped behind one of the dorms and pointed to a small, square hole that looked like it could barely fit me, much less Todd. “It will make more sense if I show you.”

“Wow, man . . . I’m not going down there! You need to wear a mask going in there . . . all that dust and the rats and—”

“Trust me; there are worse things than dust or rats.”

Todd sounded like he was trying to be strong and confident. He started to squeeze his body—one limb at a time—through the hole and into the underground passages that ran in a spider’s web pattern beneath our college.

The tunnels were forbidden for student entry and were usually locked, but the bolt had been smacked away from this one. No one had bothered to repair it.

The tunnels were old and you had to crawl on your elbows and knees against biting rocks just to get anywhere. I had avoided them, but some brave kids had gone through the whole path. One pervy guy even had locations for all the girls bathrooms memorized so he could peek at them through the ventilation system connected by the tunnels.

He was caught entering the tunnels by campus police one night and he stopped boasting after that.

I hurried after Todd, too intrigued to allow my gut to control me. Yes, I was scared . . . but I needed to know what was going on with Amira.

If Todd had answers, then I’d follow him.

I was surrounded by pitch blackness inside. I felt a cut imprint the palm of my right hand the moment it touched the ground. Suddenly, I was blinded by a bright beam and handed a flashlight—he must have been keeping them in his pockets.

Blinking the fuzzies out of my eyes, I trained the light ahead. I saw Todd’s ass, waggling as he scootched down the tunnel.

Todd started talking as he led the way.

“Last week, Amira and I were hanging out with Rodney Burrows.”

“Rodney?”

“Yeah . . . he and I knew each other in high-school. We aren’t buddy-buddy, but we get together every now and then. Amira came with and bought us some beers. It was a good night. It was just like old times. Did Rodney ever tell you how he lost his tooth?”

“No.”

“That was a good one. We attached a sled to the back of my truck and drove him across town one night. When the police flashed their lights I stopped and he slammed into the back of the car. Knocked his eyes black and took out a good-sized tooth! He was bleeding and moaning and threatening to sue the cops! He’s an idiot, but he’s a good idiot.” Todd paused. “Anyways . . . We were getting kind of hammered when Rodney told us he knew of a secret place to smoke. I asked him where it was and he said it was in the tunnels. There was a room, he said, where you could sit down and smoke as much grass as you wanted, and kids were leaving weed in there all the time that we could steal.”

I was starting to feel claustrophobic, but I kept listening to the story.

I tried to pay attention to the curve of the tunnels. There were pipes overhead and I could hear water running and air wheezing through them. My nose was already clogged with dust and I was sneezing repeatedly.

“We decided to go for it. Amira was nervous, but I told her we’d be fine and she trusted me.” There was pain in his voice.

“Rodney is a good guy,” I said during his extended silence. “He was the first one to be nice to me here. I mean . . . I wasn’t being bullied or anything but I really appreciated how cool he was.”

“He and I were on different paths. I know he wanted to be my best friend, but I didn’t ever see the use in it. I guess that’s on me.” He was talking as if Rodney was dead.

“Anyways, we came down to the tunnels and started sniffing about for the Green Room, as Rodney called it. I was so drunk I needed Amira to direct me. She was getting scared that we were too loud and we would get caught, but I kept telling her not to worry. We found the Green Room after an hour of hopelessness. It wasn’t exactly how Rodney had described it. Only two people could fit in it, and you still had to hunch over so low that you could barely move. There was nothing comfortable about smoking there, but there was a sandwich bag with weed and a lamp. We lit both.” He giggled. 

“Are we going to the Green Room?”

“No,” he said. “We are going to the cave.”

And there it was.

He shined his light forwards and I saw a hole the size of a fist in the wall ahead of us. “We found a bigger hole inside the Green Room. Rodney and Amira could fit through, but I couldn’t, so I just sat and waited for them to come back. They didn’t. I was high. I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight. The hole in the Green Room was in the darkest part of the farthest corner. I think Amira was just hoping to stand up. She was getting too cramped. Rodney just wanted to explore. I shined my flashlight inside, I yelled for them to come out . . . but I couldn’t hear anything. I started to think that maybe they were in trouble and that I should call for help, but I couldn’t get a signal on my phone, so I started toward the exit. I got lost, but made my way over here, Clyde. I saw the hole in the wall . . . I heard them . . . I heard them giggling . . . and I looked through.”

“What did you see, Todd?”

“Just look. I can’t describe it.” He shuffled aside, giving me enough room to squeeze past him.

I approached the hole cautiously, worried that this would be a horror movie moment and that something—a hand, or a ghostly face—was going to pop out at me. I kept the light on the hole but it didn’t offer much insight. The hole was like a laughing mouth, curved and cracked at the corners. I scooted towards it cautiously.

I looked through it.

“Do you see them?” Todd asked.

I did.

Inside, was a thin corridor, and the floor was filled ankle-deep with dirty water. Something white was squirming underneath the surface. Worms zipped back and forth, or scurried up the walls, or dropped from the ceiling.

This tunnel looked like the intestine inside the human body—pulsating, crawling, writhing.

I felt myself grow hard.

I felt my stomach turn.

Revulsion and attraction had become succinct bedfellows.

The worms smelled like putrid death . . . but they also smelled like Amira’s pussy.

“What were they doing in there?” I asked, tentatively.

“Rodney and Amira were fucking with the worms. They were eating them, shoving them into their asses . . . letting them crawl all over their bodies. They were in frenzy. She was fucking Rodney like she’d never fucked me before. He was growling, Clyde.” Todd sighed. “I left. I left in a storm. The next day, both of them were in class, pretending that nothing had happened. I broke up with Amira then and there. I didn’t know what I saw exactly, but I knew it wasn’t something I wanted to be involved with.”

“Then what?” I asked, predicting his next point.

“Then, Rodney called me. He said he was going crazy. That it was like an STD. He said his dick was rotting and that . . . that he was finding worms everywhere. He thought he was dying.” Todd breathed through his teeth. “But he also said he wanted more. He said it was the worst and best feeling he had ever experienced in his whole life. That it was explosive to have these things inside of you. That he wanted everyone to feel it. He said that he and Amira wanted an orgy. They wanted the whole campus to taste the worms.”

I looked back through the hole. The worms were about as long as my arm. They spun around each other, rubbing against their slick surfaces, using the water and their own slime as lubricant.

It looked to me as if the orgy had already started.

I turned the flashlight back to Todd.

“We need to kill them,” Todd started.

Then, I saw the figure coming for him. It was crawling on its hands and knees, but at a faster pace than us. It moved fluidly behind him, took him by the hair, cracked his head back, and then tore into his throat with its free hand. Each finger ended in a curved, black talon. They speared through his skin easily and quickly, then shredded it.

I heard Todd blubber for help, then a splat of blood hit the wall beside him. A crimson wave gushed from the hole in hard, rhythmic spurts. It painted the ground.

The creature took Todd’s shoulders and dragged him backward.

I could tell by its short hair and succulent flesh that it was Amira.

I shined my light on her and was hit by the smell. It took control of me before I could help it.

She smelled like garbage left in the sun. Like a bloated animal, ready to fester. Like rotten eggs and ripe gas.

She also smelled like my own semen.

She smelled like breast milk.

She smelled like love-sweat.

She smelled like lubrication.

My cock was sticking up between my thighs. It felt like an iron rod had been speared through its core.

Amira opened her mouth and three worms flopped out. They writhed in twirling circles down her chin and between her breasts before plopping like wet turds onto the floor.

I saw worms leaking from her vagina. They swayed like strands of seaweed.

I could see them swimming beneath her skin. They fanned out beneath the surface of her neck. She was as white as they were. In fact, the only color I saw was the dark of her nipples, the pink of her sex, and the blood splashed down her front.

Todd’s blood.

He was pinned beneath her, gurgling loudly as his mouth filled with his fluids.

“What’s the matter, Clyde?” Amira said in a voice that didn’t belong to her. It was deeper—full of liquid—and meaner. “Don’t you wanna fuck?”

Her face cracked open. A smile seared up her cheeks and toward her ears, splitting her head in half like a gruesome Pez dispenser. I saw drill-sharp teeth protrude from the ragged, bloodied muscles.

I screamed.

She lurched down and chomped into Todd’s head. His cranium burst apart like a stomped pumpkin. Gobs of squiggly gray matter leapt from the fissures in his skull and crawled on the craggy ground, scuttling toward me like desperate citizens running from a scarlet tsunami.

Amira rocked her head back, flinging a gory cloud into the space between us.

I felt hot blood stipple my face, giving me ghastly freckles.

She chewed slowly, her mouth working around more worms, which were fighting to wrap around pieces of Todd and pull him down her gullet.

Todd’s body writhed on the ground, moving automatically while the last parts of him gave in to death.

“I’ll show you how good it feels—” Amira’s voice was robotic. It came from within her, despite her mouth being incapable of speech—despite her throat being clogged with worms and bits of skull.

A worm as thick as my arm erupted the hole behind me and wrapped around my neck, pinning me to the wall. My flashlight fell and broke apart, driving me into complete darkness.

Then I felt more worms . . . and Amira’s lips.

×

I woke up in the tunnels.

I was in a daze.

I found my way out by touch.

The sunlight almost blinded me.

I made my way back to my dorm and slept painfully for about an hour before my cock started to burn.

I sat up and began to claw at my belly.

It was itching.

It felt like I had swallowed poison ivy.

I moved my blanket aside, tore down my shorts, and looked at my cock.

There was a white worm head sticking out.

I took ahold of the shaft and pinched the worm.

Instantly, my body was battered with unearthly pleasure.

My mouth fell open and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

Whatever these parasites are . . . they please their host so that they can continue to stay inside of them.

I pulled at the worm and it began to slide out from my aching dick.

I was hard, but it wasn’t easy pulling the out.

It was a little longer than my arm, and it started carrying blood with it.

The worm writhed in my fingers, squirming and coiling into a corkscrew spiral. I sat up and pried at the beast, hoping to God that I could extract it without tearing my dick away from my body.

The pleasure was insane.

I can’t even begin to describe it.

White hot streaks of orgasmic mirth filled my brain and entrapped my eyes. I went blind, then my mouth watered, and then my hairs stood on end, and then—and then—and then—andthenandthenandthen—

RELEASE!

After the last bit came out, my dick spurted red juices and cum for about five minutes.

That’s right.

I came for five minutes straight.

Without stopping!

I lay back and I pressed my bloody, semen spattered hand against my nose.

The worm writhed between my naked legs, stroking my thighs and filling my head with desire.

I thought of Amira, Rodney, and me in the center of a campus-wide orgy.

I imagined everyone leaking worms, sharing them, pulling them, stroking them. I thought of everyone moaning and screaming.

I had to spread it.

It would be such a ride, wouldn’t it?

I didn’t realize it until I was at the party that night, but I smell the same way Amira did.

Now that I smell like this . . . it’s a LOT easier for me to pick up girls.

THE END

Afterword

As always, thank you for reading another one of my weird stories.

And if you’re new here . . . no. I won’t apologize.

Tapewyrmin’ was actually one of the first “extreme” ideas I’d ever conceived. It was a story I wrote shortly after dropping out of college. Then, I got distracted by real life and gave up on writing for a while. Which was definitely a bummer.

I’m glad I got back into it.

I remembered the story recently . . . and realized it had been lost in an old laptop, which crashed on me.

So I tried to write it from memory.

I think I actually got it pretty dang close to what my original version had been.

Then . . . I found the original version. It ended up being stuck on an old thumb drive.

I wound up mixing the original and the new version together, forming something of a “supercut” between the two.

If you have a trunk of old stories, why not pilfer through them?

I decided to release this one as its own short. Just because Christy Aldridge had designed a cover that fit the tale, and I didn’t want to release another short story collection immediately after putting out Psych Ward Blues. Besides, collections are—unfortunately—a hard sell any more.

I have to be careful when I put one out.

This also marks my first time including a list of Patreon supporters in one of my books! I just started my page and have been thankful—and grateful—for the response!

You guys rule. Thank you for supporting me and helping me pay my bills!

From Utah—actually, I’m writing this afterword in Missouri because I’m visiting my parents—

With love,

Judith Sonnet

JUDITH SONNET is a very sad girl. She writes gross and disturbing horror books and she collects old paperbacks as well as 70’s action movies. She grew up in Missouri, but now she lives in Utah. She’s trans, asexual, and is an abuse and suicide survivor. If you want to know more about her, check her out on Facebook . . . or contact her through your nearest Ouija board.